Nox: So I wrote this…thing. Sweet Jesus have mercy on my soul. I have no idea what I've done. It started out as something sweet, and sentimental, and then it just…wasn't. Pretty much, this is for you Marolers. You hardcore fans.

Yeah.

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

A Beautiful Burn

"Ya wanna kill somethin'?" he screamed, his voice echoin' off the walls. Not like he cared if he lived or died.

"Ya wanna take the blame out on somebody?" They all stood round him, like he were crazy. Not as if he were any crazier than the fuckin' Governor.

"Go ahead then!" Because he was done. He was done tryin' to live. He was done tryin' to be somethin' he wasn't. He'd given his whole fuckin' life to one person, an' now?

Now he was gone.

"Fuckin' kill me!" Coz he couldn't live one more day in this hell when the only person he'd ever lived fer had given his life fer nothin'.

He pulled the gun out, aimed it between each a them. They backed up, pullin' they women behind'em, faces tight with emotion.

He wanted one a them to fuckin' do somethin'. He wanted one a them to just give him what he wanted. Coz he was tired a bein' the only one left. Tired a facin' the day with the single thought a just makin' it through, without feelin' this pain.

And then a hand slid over his arm.

"You can s-"

He jerked awake to the feel a somethin' warm restin' on his arm. He glanced round, feelin' foolish fer fallin' asleep when he should a been on watch. The hell would he a done if a goddamn walker had come on them?

"Nightmare," she mumbled next to him, her hand at his elbow. He looked down, could see she were still half asleep as she rolled over onto her other side, facing him now. She squeezed gently.

"Go back to sleep," she murmured, burrowing her face against his side. Her hand never left his arm as she drifted back to sleep. How she knew he'd been asleep, when she were knocked out cold herself, he didn't know. But she always seemed to know. How she could have enough faith in him to let them both sleep made his head fuckin' spin. She always seemed to know just when he needed the sleep, when they were safe enough to go without watch. Sometimes, he still couldn't understand why she'd stayed, why she smiled, why she would lie with him.

Why she was always so kind to him.

And it was that calm, that gentleness that he'd grown to rely on all these years. Wouldn't never admit to her, but hell if he didn't love that bout her. How she could calm the demon ragin' inside him. How she could make him see the light, when all he searched for was the darkness.

How she made him feel like a man, like he was human instead a the monster his ol' man had made him feel like he was his entire fuckin' life.

"You can stop," she said gently, taking hold of his arm firmly. He turned so fast, in the heat a the pain consumin' him, and brought his blade to her neck. She didn't flinch, but she did close her eyes softly.

"I want to die too," she admitted quietly, bringing up her other hand, wrapping her fingers around the metal. She laid her head against the end, and he watched as the tears slipped down her cheeks silently.

"But we can't," she stressed, her blue eyes open, now holding his. She shifted closer, slowly. His chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. He didn't want to feel that. He'd rather feel his ol' man beatin' the life outta him, beatin' him til he couldn't feel no more.

Coz he didn't want to feel. Didn't want to know what this was.

"What he did, he did for us," she said hoarsely, raisin' her hand to his face, restin' it against his cheek.

And her hand was warm.

"Don't you leave too," she murmured, her voice catching at the end.

He hadn't a course. Still here, still watchin' out fer her. Hadn't been the first thing on his mind, maybe. But he'd come round to that eventually. Took some convincing on her part.

He'd been a mess then. Damn near lost himself in a thing he'd never felt before. And hell, she was feelin' just the same. Lost the same person. 'Cept he couldn't see much further than up his own ass. So far up, all he saw was darkness.

He don't know how she did it, how she managed to stay so strong. If anyone else should a been as fucked as him, it should a been her. But she weren't. She was there, just waiting fer him. Somehow, she kept her head above the water. Somehow, she was the only thing bright light in that fuckin' darkness.

She was the only thing savin'em both.

"What are you doing?" The hell did it look like he was doin'? Packin' his fuckin' bags is what he was doin'. He weren't gonna stay somewhere he weren't fuckin' wanted. Weren't gonna stay somewhere he could see his brother in every goddamn corner.

Not when everybody looked at him like he was the wrong person.

"Leavin'," he grunted out, shovin' the leather jacket into the bag. He hated the thing, couldn't stand the sight a it, the smell a it, the feel a it. But he couldn't fuckin' git rid a it either.

He was fuckin' weak.

"Where?" He snorted. Where the hell did it matter? Anywhere but here. Any other goddamn place was better than these walls that kept all the fuckin' memories locked in, surrounding him, holdin' him down.

He'd never liked the concrete walls of a prison before.

"Don't fuckin' matter," he growled. He stood and turned to the corner. Stared at the thing restin' against the wall. The only thing left he couldn't touch. Only thing left that hadn't ever been his.

"You don't have to do this," she whispered behind him, her hand ghostin' across his shoulders. He flinched, movin' away fast.

"The hell I do!" He snatched up the thing, an' tossed it on the bed like it burned. He couldn't even look at it without it makin' everythin' come crashin' down around him again. "Ain't got nothin' left here, ain't nothin' worth livin' fer."

Her fingers curled around his elbow, pullin' him around. He didn't have the strength to fight her, couldn't hurt her. Coz if he did, he'd hate himself fer it. "Yes you do," she whispered, her eyes holding his. He didn't miss the way they shined, or the way she gripped him tight, her nails diggin' into his skin.

"I already lost one Dixon," she said, choking on the name, "hell if I lose another." And there was that fightin' spirit he was just beginning to see was hers. Just beginnin' to see why his brother had taken a special interest in this one.

He took a step toward her, closing the tiny space between them, and brought his face to hers. "Don't make promises ya can't keep," he whispered dangerously.

She swallowed hard, and for a moment, he wanted to take it back. The fear in her eyes was enough to make him remember all the reasons why everybody thought he was the goddamn monster. But it didn't fuckin' matter. Coz he felt like himself. An' that was better than all the pain that he'd been feelin' fer so fuckin' long.

And he laughed, like he hadn't since his brother had gone.

"Fuck woman," he said, gripping her jaw tight, and pulling her even closer, chest to chest. "Think ya can stand to ride with tha other brother?"

He don't know why she'd ever stand to put up with his ass. He knew there weren't nothin' good bout him. There weren't nothin' left worth savin'.

But she'd seen somethin'. Or she was so fucked up from the loss a his brother that all she wanted to do was stick close to the only things that was left a him. And he was takin' all that away from her.

Whatever the fuckin' reasons, he couldn't say he weren't glad she came.

Coz havin' her here, next to him, when shit got real – it made him think. Think about all the fucked up shit he'd done his whole life. He'd let his emotions, his temper, all a it, take hold a him. Let it control him. But she never let him go beyond that line.

Never again.

Made him wonder if she was what made Daryl change all those years ago.

"Fuck this," he murmured, an' slipped further down till he was lying next to her. He weren't gonna stay awake when she were cozied up next to him like that. She didn't wake. She didn't wake from most things most nights. Less it were walkers or humans. She always knew when it were trouble. But if it were just him, she never stirred.

He slid closer to her, an' she burrowed in to his side as he wrapped his arm round her shoulders.

He laid his head back over his stump, wrapped in a shirt to keep the metal out a their way. Shit got real uncomfortable when ya were sleepin'.

Course, it'd taken'em a long way to git to this too. Woman might a been good bought managin' feelings but she sure as hell couldn't manage touchin'. Especially when she was conflicted about'em.

He watched her shiver, huddled close to the small excuse of a fire they had. She sat near him, but not close enough to make a difference.

"Fuck woman," he barked, shiftin' closer to her. He pulled at her hip, and she flinched; her body goin' still as he dragged her against him.

"Ya keep up this stubborn shit, an' ya gonna freeze ta death." He wasn't gonna admit that her body against his was like fuckin' torture. She felt so fuckin' warm and soft. He knew he shouldn't be havin' them thoughts but goddamn. He was a man weren't he? He were goin' to hell already, and to fuck if a few thoughts about his brothers woman took him a little further down the pit.

Course, it'd been a year since Daryl had died, an' why the hell should he feel guilty anymore. Little brother would understand wouldn't he? Man had needs, and sometimes ya just couldn't control what they wanted.

Sorry brother, he thought.

He stiffened suddenly as she leaned into him, uncertainly.

"I…I don't know…" she didn't finish her thought as she stared off into the fire. She looked up at him then, blue eyes shining.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered desperately. "When I look at you," she started, her hands twisting in her lap, "I don't see him anymore," she murmured so quietly he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"What?" She bit her bottom lip, and he couldn't stop his blood from boiling at the sight.

She reached up to rest her hand against his cheek, and he could feel it tremble. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. But he knew what he wanted to know.

"An' does that make ya sad?" She swallowed hard, and caressed his cheek with her thumb, searching out his eyes.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. She dropped her hand, and laid her head against his shoulder, letting out a shaky breath.

"It scares me," she admitted quietly.

And he didn't want to admit it himself, but he understood. He understood it all too fuckin' well.

Watchin' her now, sleepin' in his arms, he would never have thought that just a few years ago they had started out as enemies in a way. She'd not liked him in the beginning, he knew that. But now?

Now she was his.

That had taken time too. She didn't just come into his arms willingly. Once she could look at him without seeing Daryl, she started to him as a man. Fuck, he didn't deny it was a bitch waitin' fer her. There were some days he'd wanted her more than he'd ever let her know.

But she was different. Different than he'd want to admit.

"Just let me take a look," she said defiantly. He grunted, avoiding her gaze. He moved around their small camp, picking their shit up. They need to get the fuck out of there. It was one close call too many.

"Merle," she said softly, her hand on his arm suddenly. He jerked, pulling away from her fast. Her lips pinched together as he backed away, and stared at her.

"Don't need none a ya fuckin' help," he said harshly, turnin' his back on her. Woman was gettin' to be a pain in his fuckin' ass. Always wanting to take care of all kinds of fuckin' shit.

"Merle," she started, her hand suddenly resting on his back. He flinched, and whipped around. His arm swung out, only meanin' to ward her away from the things he'd kept hidden for so long, when his hand connected with her face.

He froze as she doubled over, groaning in pain.

What the fuck had he just done?

"Fuck!" He screamed, turnin' round, feelin' like a caged animal. Why the fuck didn't he just let her take care of it? Why the fuck didn't he just say a simple fuckin' no?

"Fuck," he ground out, angled away from her. He couldn't face her. Not now, not after what he'd just done. She'd never forgive him. He remembered what her husband had been like. At one point, he'd not thought twice about it. But now, he knew he was probably just like him.

"I'm okay Merle," she said, walking toward him. He looked up, shocked. Why the hell was she comin' at him? What the hell did she want?

And he couldn't not look at the blood on her lip, or the way her cheek was already swellin' up.

"Goddammit," he moaned, clutching at his head, and movin' away from her. He couldn't do this. Not with this woman. She was fuckin' different. He hated that he hurt her. Didn't want to hurt her.

Hated himself for hurtin' her.

She meant too much to him. Had meant too much to Daryl.

He felt her hands on his back, again, and this time he didn't move. He just let them rest there. If he wanted her around, he was going to have to get used to that. He was going to have to let her in.

"I'm…"

She came around to face him, and he couldn't even say it.

"Don't," she said fiercely, holding his gaze firmly. "Don't." She pulled his hand into hers, and gripped his hand tight.

"Just let me take care of you," she said instead, eyes intent on him. He'd never seen her look that way at him before.

And so he just nodded, and let her guide him to sit down where he pulled off his shirt and let her see him for all that he was.

Some days, he felt guilty fer it. What did Daryl think of it, wherever he was now? Was he fuckin' watchin' them?

He shivered. Didn't like the idea of Daryl watchin' him and her, livin' their lives out together. Gave him the fuckin' creeps. He hoped that his brother were in heaven, or whatever shit that was.

Carol liked to think so. She liked to think he was up there with her little girl, Sophia. Sometimes, he liked to believe that too.

But what he knew was that right then, Carol was in his arms, and she was alive and they were together. He weren't gonna let nothin' change that as long as he could help it.

Daryl was probably laughin' at him. Coz if he were fuckin' honest with himself, he loved her. And he hoped Daryl were okay with that.

"Sleep Merle," she murmured against his chest, wiggling closer to him. His breath stuck in his throat.

Hell, he thought she'd been sleepin', and here she'd been awake. Probably been waitin' fer him to fall asleep.

A rush of things came over him that he'd never known before Carol, and he couldn't stop himself. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in the loose waves of hair that had grown over the years and he kissed her hard.

Her eyes popped open, surprised, but she responded with a sigh; opening her lips to his gently, coaxing him into something sweeter.

She slid her hands up his chest, across his nipples, her fingers tickling through his chest hair making him groan, and then around his neck and into the short-clipped curls that settled there. She pulled on them gently, kneading her fingers along his neck, and down to his shoulders.

He moaned, letting his hand slide down her spine to rest at her hip. And when her tongue slipped into his mouth, just barely, his hand jumped to her ass where he cupped her. She let a moan slip passed her lips as she slipped her hand around his waist, and up into his shirt.

He felt the blood rush to his cock as her fingers worked over his nipples, her nails grazing them slightly; and then trailing down to his hips where she teasingly wiggled them over his waistband. He couldn't help the way his hips shifted forward against her.

And then her hands trailed over his side, and around to his back, soft as ever.

He froze for a moment, like he always did. He'd never let a woman touch him so intimately before, and never across the scars that he kept so close. Those were pains he kept hidden, secret, and he'd never wanted anyone to know them.

But then her fingers traced each one, gently, in a caress, and he sighed against her, his mouth opening further to capture hers.

He lifted her shirt up, his hand finding her breast quickly. He thumbed her nipple through the fabric of her bra and she moaned deeply against him, thrusting her chest forward into his palm.

He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips.

He slipped his hand from her shirt and the whimper that left her made his cock harder. He grabbed her by the hip, his other arm held firmly against the other, and lifted her onto his lap.

"Merle!" He pushed up against her, his hand slipping up into her shirt to find her breast again, and she moaned. Her hands found his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons, and then she was undoing the buckle at his pants.

He loved it when she was hungry for it.

He pulled her shirt over her head, one-handed, and she deftly unclasped her bra for him. He let the disappointment of doing that himself roll of him as her breasts came free and he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking the hard bud with his tongue.

She gasped and pulled his head against her, running her nails across his scalp.

"Merle," she moaned, pushing down on the shoulder of his shirt, baring him. She pulled him away from her chest, panting and captured his lips again.

He didn't miss her hands frantically pulling at the button on his pants or the hiss of the zipper being pulled down. His cock throbbed with the need to be inside of her, and she seemed to be just as hot for it.

He slowly unbuttoned her pants, and this time she let him, just staring into his eyes. The longer he took, the more she ground her hips into his. He could feel the heat comin' off a her, and he wished he could move his fingers faster.

But he couldn't deny he liked the tease.

He flipped her over, and pulled her shorts down, her panties going with them. He dipped his head to kiss her belly, swirling his tongue in the dip near her belly-button. He could smell her already.

He let his hand drift down her thigh, towards her center. Her heavy breathing told him she was anticipatin' this. She was fuckin' ready. But he didn't want to make it fast, didn't want it to be over already.

He wanted her. He wanted her hard and long.

He licked and nipped his way down her stomach, and then across her thigh. When he licked her core, she groaned deep, and he couldn't stop from clutching at her thigh. That fuckin' sweet voice of hers made him want to take her right then.

"So fuckin' sweet," he murmured, flicking his tongue against her clit. She bucked against him, digging her fingers further into the ground.

"Fuck Merle," she whispered, her hips shifting closer to him. He couldn't stop the chuckle. He loved it when she started cussin'.

He pushed a finger into her, and she clenched around him and he couldn't help the groan that slipped passed his lips. He pumped into her slow at first, keepin' the rhythm easy. She moved with his hand and he shifted over her body, leanin' on his bad arm. When he slipped another finger in, she started to grind against him harder, panting faster.

He dipped down to take her nipple into his mouth, and she cried out, wrappin' an arm around his neck. She clenched around his fingers tighter.

What he wouldn't fuckin' give to put his cock into her. To feel that sweet, hot pussy caressin' him. He let a growl loose as he imagined being inside of her, instead of his fingers.

"Merle," she breathed, pulling him up to her mouth and kissin' him hard, twisting her tongue with his. "Inside of me," she panted, "now."

He weren't gonna object. He pulled his shorts down just far enough to pull his cock loose and he watched her eye him greedily. He'd a never thought this mousey woman would ever look a man like that; like he was some fuckin' thing she wanted to consume. But fuck if it didn't turn him the fuck on.

She grabbed him by the shaft and he froze, the breath stuck in his throat. She smiled a little, and pulled him forward slowly toward her open legs. He licked his lips. He choked and almost cummed when she rubbed her thumb over the head.

"Goddammit woman!" She laughed, her chest shaking with the action. It stirred something within him and he couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her forward onto his lap, where she settled her hips over his like they were always meant to fit there.

Her face was the perfect expression of ecstasy and excitement as she slowly, slowly slipped over his cock.

She sighed when their bodies connected, and he was fully inside of her, wrappin' her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. Sweet fuckin' jesus, he'd never felt so goddamn good before. This was better than any fuckin' high he'd ever had.

She wrapped her legs around his hips next, and then licked his ear, sending another growl through him.

"Fuck me," she whispered, twisting her hips against him.

And he'd give her whatever the fuck she wanted.

He let her fall back to the ground, and let himself slip almost out of her. She clutched at his arms, tried to pull him back inside of her with his legs, but he didn't let her. The friction was fuckin' unbelievable and fuck if he didn't want to. But not until his arms surrounded her did he slam back into her with all the force of a man who'd been deprived for years.

She screamed out, arching off the ground and into his chest. And he didn't stop. He kept goin', each thrust harder than the last.

She reached up, and ran her nails across his chest, over his nipples; drawing a low growl out of him. She trailed them over his shoulders to his back where she pulled herself against him; her hard nipples rubbing against him.

The slapping of their flesh, and their moans echoing throughout the night should have worried them both. But neither of them cared.

He could feel himself reaching that point; the moment of the high. His body reachin' the fuckin' climax, and he knew he was gonna cum. He started to thrust harder, and he knew she was close, so fuckin' close because she started to moan, and whimper and she clutched at his arms, digging her nails into them.

"Faster," she begged, and he couldn't do nothin' but grunt. Couldn't do nothin' but go any faster. "Faster," she breathed, rising up against him. He could feel her clutching at him, feel her walls clenchin'.

She was gonna fuckin' cum.

"Merle," she moaned, reaching up and grabbing his neck, pulling him closer. He let his head fall against her chest, and he felt it; the moment she came. He looked up in time to see her face melt into something sweet, and twisted, and she gasped out.

"Beautiful," he murmured. There weren't nothin' like a woman in the heat a passion. And he knew he wasn't far behind as his cock stirred and he thrust into her one last time, harder than before. She bucked beneath him, and bit into his shoulder as he released into her and he growled out her name, burying his face in her chest.

He rode out the wave slowly, lying across her until he caught his breath. She held him, breathing heavily, kissing him once on the side of the head. He flipped them over, pulling her onto his chest.

She sighed contentedly, her leg tossed carelessly over one of his.

"Walkers," she muttered lazily, burrowing into his side, clearly not concerned about it.

He grunted, pulling the discarded blanket over their naked bodies. "Ain't worried now," he said gruffly.

He looked down at her dozing form, and knew that what he had was nothin' to fuckin' be ungrateful about. She'd stayed with him, through the pain a their loss, through the hard shit of this life, and they'd come to have something. Maybe not love. But a simmering heat that consumed them both, and marked them forever.

This beautiful burn scarred them both. He'd never once wanted to know any of his scars, but this - this burn was something he wanted to hold onto. He wanted to make it last, to feel the heat of it for a long fuckin' time. He would wear this burn with pride.

"Carol," he said, quiet, wonderin' if she were awake, hopin' at the same time she weren't. When she didn't stir at his voice, he just continued.

"What if I told ya," he started, and then paused, unsure of how to continue. He let his head fall against hers, inhaling the scent of her, burying his nose in her hair. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever said it to anyone.

Couldn't remember if he ever had.

"What if I love ya," he murmured, so quiet he wasn't even sure that he'd said it. She didn't move next to him as he held his breath, waiting for her to respond. He was surprised to find that he wanted her to say it back.

"Pussy," he whispered under his breath to himself. He didn't need her to say it, didn't need nothin' from this woman but exactly what she gave him.

She showed him all that he needed to know.

He shifted next to her, restin' his bad arm under his head and closed his eyes to the night. He wouldn't have any nightmares now. Not when he'd have the sweetest dreams to fall asleep to.

"I'd tell you I love you too," she mumbled next to him, running her lips across his chest.

He didn't say nothin', but he couldn't stop from smilin' as he drifted off to sleep.

A/N: I'm probably better at writing foreplay than the act of sex itself but…well. This is my first actual attempt at it. Be gentle, haha.