Missing Merle already in season four, so here we go.
I do not own The Walking Dead. Obviously, this is an AU, 'cause Merle survived his ambush with the Governor.
They Call Him Pookie
Merle had bear witnessed to a lot of things in his life. He had met a lot of people, and dubbed them with ridiculously fun nicknames, but he never saw this one coming.
Ever since the remaining Woodbury residents came to stay in the prison, everything seemed right good. They had built a tiny community, just like they had in Woodbury. Everyone seemed remotely happy, despite being in an apocalypse. Even Merle was starting to fit in, believe it or not. While his relationship with Glenn and Maggie was still poor, Daryl tried his best to keep the air clear between the three of them. There was no way that his big brother was leaving, not after he almost lost him for good.
The elder Dixon brother saw Daryl over by the fence with Carol, no doubt flirting with each other. Merle was proud of his little brother for finally coming out of his shell and actually flirting back with this woman. The former came up to the two of them, walking in on an interesting part of their conversation.
"Isn't that right, Pookie?" Carol cooed, smiling up at Daryl.
Merle couldn't hide the grin spreading across his face. Oh, this was too good, he thought. The elder redneck didn't speak yet, he just watched as his little brother bumped his woman's shoulder.
Daryl saw his older brother from the corner of his eye, and he visibly tensed. He would never be able to live this down, now.
"Heeeey, li'l brother. What are ya up to?" Merle greeted, glancing between Daryl and Carol.
"Nothin'," the younger Dixon murmured, "jus' talkin' to Carol's all."
"I heard, Pookie," his brother teased, unable to control his laughter. As he brushed past the two of them, he looked back at Carol and told her, "you have my baby brother whipped, don't ya?"
Carol looked back at Daryl, who just shrugged. "He's never going to let that go, is he?"
"Nope," he deadpanned, "but that's Merle for ya. He'll hold something against ya for years."
"So," the former housewife smirked, bumping into his shoulder, "does that mean that I can still call you pookie?"
Daryl snorted. "I guess so, if that's what keeps ya going."
"Good," Carol stretched on her tiptoes to kiss Daryl's cheek, "I gotta have some fun with you around here," she whispered in his ear.
Merle kept walking, taking in everyone and everything as they moved about. For the most part, breakfast was just being served. He was actually waiting for someone. Michonne had been gone for a while, looking for the Governor. After what had happened with Andrea, she was looking for revenge. Merle couldn't say that he blamed her, but that didn't mean that he wasn't worried about her. The elder Dixon brother had tried his damndest to get her to say that he could go with her, those attempts in vain.
Now he was just pacing and playing the waiting game. The two of them, like Daryl and Carol, had formed a much stronger bond over the recent months. Theirs was more of a sexual relationship, or at least that was how it started, anyways. Merle found himself caring now more than ever. Considering who she was looking for, she'd be lucky if she came back with all of her limbs intact.
When he finally heard her coming, he made his way over to the front gate. She got off of her horse and headed over to where Rick and Carl were. She hadn't even seen Merle making his way over as well.
The elder Dixon waited for Michonne to hand over the razor that she had found for the former deputy. Merle grabbed his woman with his good arm and spun her around to face him.
"Woman, you don't know how happy I am to see your ass," he greeted her, a wicked grin in place. From the corner of his eye, he could see both Grimes boys resuming what they were doing before. It only took them a quick moment to snap out of that trance. For everyone, it still took a while getting used to Merle and Michonne being together.
His Nubian Queen smiled at him for a split second, pulling his mouth down to hers. He tangled his good hand in her brown dreadlocks for better leverage, his lips moving into a faster pace as their kiss continued.
After a moment or so, when Michonne realized that they probably had an audience, she backed off and pushed him away from her lightly. "Well, I guess I missed you too, Merle."
"Mmm," Merle laughed, turning away from his girlfriend as he heard his motorcycle's engine rev up. It must have been time to go on that group run to the Big Spot. "How did it go?" he asked her, his eyes finally coming back to meet with hers.
"Not very well," she sighed, her gaze retreating to the ground. "Macon is the next best bet."
"Macon?" the redneck repeated, testing it on his tongue. "The hell are ya thinkin'? Yer nuts if ya think that I'm lettin' go there by yourself."
"I don't care what you say, Merle," Michonne told him, slowly gazing back up at him. "I'm doing this for Andrea."
Merle sighed, hooking his bayonet through her belt loop to pull her closer. "A'right, a'right. But I'm goin' with you this time."
"What about your brother?" Michonne asked him, one eyebrow cocked up.
"I think he can handle himself long enough for us to do this," the elder Dixon rasped, taking her dreadlocks into his hand again. "I gotta look after you too, ya know."
The katana-wielding survivor leaned into her lover's touch, her eyes relaxing shut. "Fine," she murmured, a smirk tugging at her lips, "just don't slow me down."
Merle laughed at her, tipping her chin back up with his bayonet. "Now, what's the fun in slowing you down? I like you quick on yer feet," he rasped, lips hovering over hers again.
Just as the two were about to indulge once more, Daryl came driving down the prison yard, revving his engine at the embracing couple. Merle thought that he was going to mess with him and Carol? It was time for a little payback, big brother.
The elder Dixon let go of Michonne and gave his little brother a rude gesture. "What's wrong, Pookie?" he roared over the engine.
Daryl turned off the motorcycle engine and glared at Merle. "That was for earlier wit' me an' Carol."
"Damn, li'l brother. Can't ya take a joke?" Merle asked, "ya jus' remember that that's ol' Merle's bike yer riding. Ya best be nice to me, I could keep it all to myself…. Pookie."
Michonne looked between the two Dixon brothers. "…Do I even want to know why Merle keeps calling you 'Pookie'?" she asked the younger of the two.
"That's Carol's li'l pet name for my baby brother over here," Merle chuckled, being swiped in the gut for good measures by his girlfriend. "The hell was that for, woman?"
"Just shut up," the dark-skinned survivor chided, and then asked Daryl, "where are you going, anyways?"
"Group run," the younger Dixon brother answered. "We could use some extra hands. Got a lotta shit to get."
"We're in," Michonne answered without a beat. Her boyfriend glanced over at her, trying to register what she had just agreed to. He was hoping that they could sneak back into their shared cell and make up for lost time but no.
"We, who?" Merle grumbled, "you always sign me up for crazy shit."
"That's because I'm the only one that can tell you what to do," his girlfriend patted him on the chest, smiling slightly.
Daryl snorted at his little brother's expense. "And you say that I'm whipped? I think the tables have turned, Merle."
"At least no one calls me Pookie," Merle teased his baby brother.
Michonne just rolled her eyes and tugged on her boyfriend's arm. "Come along, MerleyBear."
The elder Dixon swore that his baby brother laughed for days at that nickname. If Merle didn't like Michonne so much, he coulda killed her for coming up with a name so ridiculously endearing.
And so, there they were: Pookie and MerleyBear, forever whipped by their respective women. Occasionally, Carol and Michonne would sneak high-fives about the whole situation. Neither Dixon boy found it hilarious, but the girls surely did.
So, I needed some comic relief in my life. Hope you all got a good kick out of this! Reviews are loved!