Nox: Kittens I bring you my Vixen. If you'd like to get to know her before all of this then that means you need to head over to The Bad, the Ugly, and the Dixons; Ch 22, 24. Not necessary to read though. Would be nice all the same.
I've been harboring this bad girl for a long time. This isn't intended to be AU, but I use the time between those winter months to my advantage. That is where this is set.
I owe a lot to letmefallasleep - this would not have taken off like it did if she hadn't been here to encourage me, and to give me her input whenever I needed to pick her brain. You are my favorite person to go to for Merle. Go check out her Merle/OC story Cajun Queen when you get the chance. It deserves all the love and affection.
The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.
Rated: M for Merle's foul mouth, Bigotry, Racism and Sex - I won't be putting any more ratings up in further chapters. Merle is self-explanatory.
Dreams
He kept sawing and sawing and sawing. And the god damn hand just wouldn't come off. Damn hand, damn pipe, damn fuckin' hacksaw. He was fuckin' stuck. All he needed was fer this fuckin' saw to fuckin' work.
"Don't need ya," he panted, feeling dizzy, mouth stuffed with cotton balls.
"Come on brother." He ignored him, moving the blade, every tooth of the edge bumping over the bone like the twitch he had in his left eye. Sweat dripped down his face, makin' his skin itch. Weren't gonna let nothin' stop him from gettin' outta here.
He'd already been left behind, weren't gonna waste no more time with nothin' else.
"Should a cut the damn pipe."
"Fuckin' know that! Already tried ya little smartass!" he screamed, looking up to find no one there. He blinked once, and then started sawing again, this time with renewed strength.
Goddamn little shit comin' round like that. Talkin' like he knew somethin'. Little brother was always talkin' like he knew shit, always tryin' to make him feel worse than he already did.
He was always doin' what he could. Fuck everyone, he always did what he could. People always be assumin' he didn't know shit cos a what he looked like, or what he fuckin' said.
Shit, he couldn't even remember really what he'd done to them fuckin' pussies.
But goddammit. Did they had to leave him cuffed to some fuckin' roof with those dead fuckin' geeks just snappin' to get at him? He weren't no wild animal, foamin' at the mouth. Hell he could show'em what that looked like.
He growled as the hacksaw bumped and scraped along his bone.
"Fuck it," he mumbled, and grabbed his wrist. He took a deep breath, counted to two, and then snapped it.
He couldn't stop the scream that ripped from him, or the blood that poured from the wound like a pipe that burst. He grit his teeth, and finished sawin' the motherfuckin' thing off. He had nothin' to lose now. He'd already lost the hand, and he'd already lost too much blood.
Fuckin' hand had to go.
So he sawed through the tendon that was still left, and the bone that jutted out through his skin. Was fuckin' sick, and he felt the world spin for a moment at the sight. But then the saw slipped through the last bit a skin and the hand was gone.
The minute the hand dropped to the ground, he screamed out, and jumped up. He'd never felt so fuckin' free before. And he'd done that his fuckin' self. He teetered for a minute, and then held his arms out, and turned around.
"Tha's right bitches!" He went to the edge of the building, stood up on the edge. "Merle's fuckin' free!" And then the door started bangin' again, hands reachin' through the cracks. His vision hazed and his legs went limp beneath him.
He laughed as he stepped off the ledge, moving for the other side of the building, blood dripping from the stump.
"Don't need no one to save me," he murmured, vision hazy. "Merle don't need no one." But he couldn't stop himself from seein' the piercin' gaze of those blue eyes from starin' back at him, or that voice from callin' out to him.
"Never alone brother." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and continued to stumble forward, pushin' passed the sudden guilt.
"Merle's comin' fer ya," he muttered, zigzagging across the roof, and down the side.
"Merle."
He stumbled down the escape ladder, to the other building. He shimmied into the window. Buncha dead freaks in there too. Ugly sumbitches.
"Merle," someone breathed into his ear as a hand ghosted across his hips, across the scars. He tried to hold onto whatever it was he was rememberin'. But didn't want to all the same. He loved what that hand was doin'.
"Yer dreamin' Cowboy," she whispered, resting her hand on his side and pressing her body flush against his. Fuck.
Dreamin'. He brought his arm up, resting his short arm against his eyes, groanin'. Goddamn dream. He'd been havin' the same one for the past couple a weeks now. She licked his ear, sending a moan passed his lips. His thoughts scattered as her hand trailed over his stomach and under his waistband.
"Fuck Red," he grunted as her fingers curled around his cock. He turned on his side, wrapping both of his arms around her, gripping her hair in his hands.
"Shh," she whispered, stroking him twice, "I'll help ya forget," and his lips captured hers, sucking on her bottom lip viciously. He didn't even bother to open his eyes as her hand stroked him, back and forth, sending a groan through him.
"Ya know I hate that fuckin' name," he forced out, burying his face in her neck, nibbling the soft flesh between her shoulder and throat. A breathy laugh escaped her, and she gripped him softly, and he jerked in her hand. He reached down to grip her ass hard, as his hips moved with her. Her other arm wrapped around his neck, her hand burying in his short-cropped hair, and massaging his scalp.
He hissed as her thumb circled over the head. He was gonna cum. He was gonna cum and he wasn't even inside the bitch. Woman was a god damn sin.
"I want you inside a me, Merle," she growled, releasing him suddenly and pushing him down, climbing over his chest. She raked her nails over him, over his nipples and she leaned down to capture his lips with hers. Her tongue twisted with his, roving over the roof of his mouth, and he growled.
Hell if he were gonna let this shit fly.
He flipped her over, kneelin' between her legs and looked down on her. At her red hair splayed out over the pillow, her flushed cheeks, her bare chest heavin'. God was she fuckin' beautiful. And that was the problem, sleepin' naked like she did. She was always ready fer him, like she was his fer the takin'.
"You talk like that, yer askin' fer it," he murmured, reaching up to stroke the skin at her shoulder. The memory a that scar's history was still fresh in his mind. Her hand curled around his arm, an' he could see her eyes go distant, a small smile on her lips. But then she reached down between her open legs, strokin' herself. He felt himself get harder.
"I said I wanted ya Merle," she moaned huskily, hookin' a leg around his back an' pullin' herself closer to his cock. He bumped against her hand and they both groaned in unison.
He chuckled, and yanked her up against him, his hand and arm splayed out against her scarred back. She smiled, lickin' her fingers clean an' then wrapped her arms around his neck, her tits rubbin' up against his chest. She moved her chest up and down, her hard nipples rubbin' against him, her eyes slidin' closed at the motion. Her nipples rakin' against his skin made his blood run hot, made his cock throb. God damn did he love what she could do.
"Then I'm gonna fuck ya," he growled, watchin' her work herself wet. He pulled his shorts down and she twisted her ass until she slid over him, the breath escapin' him at her tight, hot pussy closin' over him. He lowered her to the bed, thrustin' into her gently all the way to his balls. He groaned and buried his face in her neck as she wrapped her legs round his hips.
"Red hot," he murmured into her, and she laughed breathlessly.
XXX
"She's gone."
He turned to look at the Governor, feelin' a growl work its way up his throat. Gone. What the fuck did that mean? Like she were dead gone? Bit gone? Walker gone?
"Hell you mean she's gone?"
Or gone as in…
He watched the Doc exchange a look with the Governor, one she would a snorted at and called'em out on. Woman was always gettin'em in trouble. Prob'ly why he…
"Merle, we know you two were close." Now it was his turn to snort sarcastically. Assholes didn't know the meanin' a close when it came to them. Woman knew just how to stroke him in all the right places.
He felt his pants tighten, an' he cleared his throat before their morning tussle came rushing back to him.
"Doesn't explain what the fuck happened to'er," he barked out, feeling somethin' else slither its way through him. They were avoidin' his fuckin' question, avoidin' lookin' at him.
Gone meant a lot a fuckin' things an' they didn't need to sit there and coddle his ass.
Shit. And he was worried. They weren't tellin' him somethin' and he was fuckin' worried. He started pacing, runnin' a hand over his head. He'd never worried bout her 'fore. Never needed too. She'd always been right there where he could keep his goddamn eye on her. Hell, he knew she could take care a herself so what the hell had happened?
"What the hell happened?" he yelled, watching as the little monkey, Milton, flinched in fear. He loved the way the little creep was scared a him. Governor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.
"She volunteered to go on a run this morning," he offered sympathetically.
This morning. This morning he'd fucked the shit outta her. This morning she'd been in his bed, givin' him everything that he'd ever wanted. This morning he'd never wanted anything more than her.
Volunteered. Like his woman volunteered to do fuckin' anything. The only fuckin' thing she volunteered her services fer was to fuck him. And if she didn't want to fuck, hell she'd let him know.
Fuck no, his woman didn't volunteer fer shit.
Somethin' bout this weren't right, and it made his neck itch.
"We was together this mornin'," he said gruffly, unsure of what this all meant. Governor stepped forward, lips pinched together tight. He looked like he was fuckin' sorry fer somethin'. But he'd learned better. The Governor was never fuckin' sorry. The Governor always knew what was happening in his fuckin' house. That look meant somethin' else.
"Martinez said it all happened fast-" He turned on his heel, not even bothering to finish listenin' to what the Governor had to say.
Martinez. That fuckin' beaner thought he was some kind a hot tamale and that his fuckin' woman wanted a piece a that.
"Merle!"
He just kept walkin', movin' fast, ignorin' little Miltie. He was gonna beat the shit out a that asshole, if it was the last thing he ever fuckin' did. No one was gonna stop him.
Man just hadn't been able to keep his hands to his self. Talkin' to her, touchin' her, lookin' at her. Couldn't keep his hands off a what was his. And he wasn't gonna stand by and let that go no longer.
He'd find his fuckin' answers. He'd find his woman.
His arm hurt like fuckin' hell. Burnin' the shit had been a dumb fuckin' idea, but at the time? Hell, he didn't know what else to do. Shit kept bleedin', an' he was losin' feelin' all up his arm. Couldn't stop himself from screamin' neither. Could hear the damn geeks comin' an' he knew he had to go. Had to keep movin'. Mothafuckers just wouldn't give'im a break.
"On ya feet Marine," he mumbled to himself, teetering slightly. And then he laughed, manically, an' slapped his forehead, again and again.
"Jar heads couldn't handle ol' Merle," he crowed, stumbling forward. Nobody could handle ol' Merle.
And he hauled his ass out the window, catchin' his side on the broken glass, an' stumbled out. Fuckin' freedom. 'Officer Friendly' thought he could lock his ass up on that roof, leave'im to die? They thought they'd gotten rid a him? They thought he was gonna die up there on that fuckin' roof?
"Got another thing comin'!" Merle Dixon weren't no goddamn pussy. Assholes thought they could git away with this? They was wrong.
"'Nother thing comin'," he muttered with a grin.
A/N: I would never use the term 'Jar Head' because it's really negative towards Marines, unless they choose to use it themselves. I have Marines in my life and I respect them, and I support them. Thank them, thank you all for your service. But for the purpose of this fic, Merle is delusional, and therefore being himself. Tell me what ya think. Real shit starts next chapter, swear.