AN: Insomnia + Spotify playing Kamelot's latest cd = a new Walking Dead fic. Originally I had intended to use this song as a chapter inspiration for my other fic, Cold Kiss, but was inspired into another direction which manifested into this particular fic. I hope you enjoy and please review!

A passing life each day a carving on the wall
It's like a night without awakening
The truth is lost and maybe never to be found
Like the shadows of my pantomime

It was amazing to think that given the current situation the world found itself with the dead and death unleashed and amuck that nightmares could still exist. As shitty as reality already was, somehow the mind was still able to conjure up even more horrifying images to shake oneself to the core. Merle Dixon was finding this phenomenon to be particularly true in his days of late. For the past few weeks now he had woken up in a cold sweat, his mind flashing images of the dead. His dead, to be exact. Every night, it seemed the faces of all those he had killed while under the command of the Governor came to pay him a visit, destroying any semblance of peace or bliss his subconscious attempted to conjure. He'd feel it not only in his mind, but on his chest. That horrible, staggering weight would slam unto his chest, as though attempting to suffocate the life out of him in an effort to repay his blood debt.

When all the world is gathered for the final feast
Will there be someone to believe in me?
The voices echoing in my distorted mind
Is this for real or just a dream?
(Am I losing my mind? I am not afraid, my dear)

He was never able to go back to sleep after that. Instead, he'd find himself lying in bed, drenched into his sweat, replaying the images and sensations again until he'd give up on sleep all together and engage in some other task to occupy his mind. Sometimes he'd read, lighting the small lantern at his bed, but more often than not he'd head out on a walk outside, which was where he found himself this particular night, upon one of the watch towers.

"Shit." He hissed silently to himself as he leaned upon the railings heavily. "Here I am, a grown ass man, pissin myself over a dream, like a goddamn pussy!" Even in his own mind to himself, Merle tried to keep up the badass mask.

No… it ain't just a dream. You know it ain't that simple… Another voice would reply inside. Merle had no idea where this particular voice came from. He'd like to think and argue that it was his conscience hollering through the Dixon stubbornness but lacked the faith in himself to believe he even possessed one. No, only the good ones had such things. Consciences, were ways the Almighty called his special ones back to him. Bastards like Merle who Hell would even be too good for were denied such things, left to rot by their own hands. He wasn't worth living, so why would he be worth saving?

It was a funny thought, really. Folks always said that no one could kill Merle Dixon except Merle himself. But who would save him when he couldn't save himself?

"Merle?" a soft, gentle voice called out, a cadence in the cool night air.

Sing for me angel of afterlife calming me down
Chaos inside my nebula
And may the wrong turn to right in a celestial light
Forgive my sacrimony

Beth didn't even have to speak for him to have known she was there. He could feel her presence long before even hearing her. Still though, despite knowing precisely who his company was he kept his gaze towards the fields and his back to her. Truthfully, it was his company's identity that kept him from turning. He wasn't ready to make eye, or any, contact with her just yet. "It's late." He replied. "Whatta ya doin' outta bed at this hour?"

She gave a soft smile, despite knowing he couldn't see it. He didn't have to see it though, for her smile managed to lightly sprinkle her reply. "I rolled over in bed, expecting to curl up to you but ended up falling unto the floor instead."

Merle replied with a slight snort of a laugh in reply. "Is that right, sugah?" Her voice had softened his demeanor, but by no means had he let down his walls yet. He did allow a window upon the walls himself, however, and one that she spotted immediately.

Slowly, as though not to startle him, Beth approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist. In a very Merle-like fashion he stiffened, as though attempting to oppose such an intimate touch. He was Merle Dixon, after all. He had a reputation as the state of Georgia's certified Asshole to consider. He couldn't be cuddling with a girl, much less cuddling after he was all set and spooked by a nightmare!

But she knew better. She knew Merle better, and she refused to yield. Instead, she rested her chin upon his shoulder, waiting. As she waited, she took the time to close her eyes, savoring the touch and scent she had grown to recognize as Merle's: a blend of gun oil and powder lightly tinged with soap and cigarettes. It didn't take long before she won out and Merle softened, relaxing to her touch. Inwardly she smiled at this small victory, nuzzling his ear in reply. "What happened?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer right away, opting to take his time. Truth be told, he didn't want to tell her. No man wants to admit to someone, let alone a girl, that he's getting shaken up by nightmares and especially not Merle Dixon of all men. He spat at and called other men pussies for less. Still though, it was different with Beth. It was different with Beth because of many various reasons, though the current first and foremost thought being her ability and willingness to nag. She seemed like a quiet, demure one from the outside, but at the heart of all things, when she wanted to speak her mind, that girl could nag better than an old granny.

"I dunno." He eventually replied after a bout of silence. "I just… been seein some stuff, lately…"

Tell me what they say that I'm supposed to know
Tell me every little detail
Make truth appear for me as distant memories
Like pictures on a silver screen

This time it was Beth's turn to stiffen. A flood of thoughts waved over her mind as she attempted to process what Merle was trying to tell her. In confused shock, she dropped the grip she had on him, staring at him in perplexity. "Wh- Wait, what? Merle, I- Whattaya mean? What do you mean you've been seein' stuff?!"

Merle sighed, inwardly groaning. This was exactly why he wanted to keep things to himself. He shouldn't have done this, unloaded it like this, to her. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to be burdened with his bullshit. She put up a lot from him already without tossing this in the mix. In his mind he gave himself a mental face-palm Dixon-style, using his blade hand.

"Relax! That di'int come out right. I didn't mean it that way. Don't be gettin your panties in a knot!" he snapped. "I ain't like Officer Friendly. I ain't fixin to go frolickin after butterfiles in the fields and hollerin' at dead people's ghosts if tha's what your picturin' It ain't like that at all…" Seeing the lingering knot of confusion upon her brow Merle grudgingly added, "It's just these dreams, is all… Things I see at night sometimes."

Comprehension dawned on her face, softening the tension that had formed. "Oh… So you've been having nightmares?"

He stiffened at the word 'nightmare', having attempted to avoid the particular wording. "… Something like that." He replied lowly.

She released the breath she had been holding it and reached for Merle's hand. He resisted yet again, but she fought back, forcing him to look at her instead of anything else other than her gaze. "Merle…" she whispered. "Merle, nightmares aren't anything to be ashamed of… I-It happens, to all of us. Especially times like these with death everywhere."

He scoffed in reply, "You don't understand a damn thing, missy." He attempted to pull away once more, but stopped mid-way. He was more than capable of breaking her hand of, and he knew if he tried that would be the end result. There was no way in hell he'd let that happen. He'd rather cut off his remaining hand and be the Redneck Edward Scissorhands than hurt Beth.

Seeing his attempt at pulling away Beth raised his hand. For a brief moment Merle thought she was about to slap him, only to see her do the exact opposite. She rested the palm of her hand against his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze once more. "Then let me understand." She commanded in a hardened whisper. Merle might have seen no tears, but he certainly heard them in her voice. "What do you see?" she pleaded, begging for him to open up to her.

"Them! I see all of'em, alright?!" he hollered back at her face. "You wanna know so much? Fine. I see all of'em. I see all those damn folks that fucking Governor had me kill back when I was his bitch! .Every. Single. One. Always!"

And now leave me alone
Erase my memory
Don't want to hear, don't want to see
Don't want to think about the lie that follows me

She stared at the man before her, frozen and unsure of what to say or do. What could or should she –or anyone for that matter- say? She couldn't say she understood how he felt. That'd be a flat out lie if there ever was one. She didn't understand. How could she? And she couldn't say it was all right. Both of them knew damn well it wasn't. What was there to say? Or better yet, what did Merle want her to say?

All becomes clear
But no one will hear my testimony

Interpreting her silence as disgust, Merle pulled away with the intent to storm off, shaking his head at the situation. "I knew it. I knew you'd think I was a monster once you heard it. Heh. Karma's got a way of kicking all out asses, don't it? All my life, not once have I ever apologized to any asshole that crossed my path. Now? Well, now I got good reason to say sorry for once, but no one I can sorry up to. Fuckin' hysterical, ain't it?" he laughed dryly, shaking his head.

"Stop it…" she whispered softly in reply, her eyes stinging with tears; tears that he would feel, but only she would release. Her pleas went unheeded though, for Merle kept on going.

"And that's how its gon' be. Just ole Merle, rotting away with this fucking weight, this goddamn weight-"

"Just stop it!" she nearly screamed. Faster than either could blink she sent her hand flying. The hand that had previously held in tenderness now flew across Merle's cheek. Shock bombarded Merle's features while rapidly falling tears drenched Beth's.

"Now you listen and you listen good, Merle Dixon. You're right. There's not a damn thing you can do for those people. You apologizing to them now isn't going to do any good, but you know what? Neither is blaming and hating yourself . Yes, you made a mistake. Many mistakes. We all have, in some form and extent or another. No one is perfect, but no one, no one is a monster. You need to forgive yourself." She wept, crying freely. "I can't help you, Merle. I want to help you so bad, but this isn't something I can help you with I-I can't do anything..."

She paused, breathing heavily at the end of her rant and glanced at him, staring at her in a silent enigma. Nothing in his features gave any hint of his thoughts, a thought that was both a torment and relief. Taking a deep breath, she took the side of his face into her palm, lightly pressing her head against his, her tears falling unto him as well. She spoke no more, and turned to return to her cell, Merle to his silence and thoughts.

He came to her cell before the early morning light could break the night and found her upon the bed, lying their silently but awake. With a pang of awareness he realized the trails of tears upon her face were still fresh. Softly, he padded his way into the cell, taking a seat upon the bed. "You were wrong." He whispered.

This caught her attention instantly, causing her to sit up and face him with an inquisitive frown. She opened her mouth to reply but was halted by Merle's finger upon her lips. "You said you can't help me, that there's nothing you can do. But you're wrong. You've given more than anyones ever given me before." The finger upon her lips migrated, caressing her cheek. Leaning in closer, he whispered into her ear, "I am a better man from having known you, and try to be a better one every day because of you. It's all because of you, sugah bean. For you. You're my reason."

Tears cascaded down her face once more, though this time they were not of sorrow. "Merle…" she breathed out, smiling.

He closed the remaining distance between them, crushing his lips to hers. It wasn't long until they found themselves fueled and firing up in passion. As typical of his nature, Merle was usually one to take control and mount her. This time was different, however. This time, he yielded to her. Gently, he placed her on top of him, trailing a set of kisses along her jaw before whispering heavily into her ear, "Love me strong, sugah bean. Show ole Merle no mercy tonight…"

She said nothing in reply, but showed everything. There was no need for windows this time around, for all walls between them were gone.

I am your angel of afterlife
Calming you down
Silence inside your nebula
And when the wrong turns to right in a celestial light
I'll heed your testimony