Hello there. Remember me telling you about all the Caryl stories that I was working on? Well... this isn't one of them. There will be Caryl eventually but this is basically a Merle story in Merle's POV. It was a prompt from a friend and I wanted to get it started. She's a bit busy so she doesn't mind if I can't update daily. I thought maybe a few of you would be interested so I'm posting.

I am still scrambling to get one of the Caryl stories finished! No worries there. Thanks for reading!

Chapter One

He must have blacked out. Coming down from the drugs was bad enough but coming down from them while he was cuffed to a goddamn pipe in the searing sun must have been unbearable because he'd passed out as soon as he had the fucking saw in his hand.

He sat up, wincing when he tried to swallow. His throat felt like sandpaper as it constricted. He could still hear the walkers clawing at the door. Their groans penetrated the rush of blood behind his ears and he cursed and then cursed again, rolling over and kicking the pipe. His wrist felt broken. He must have did a lot of damage to it earlier when he had been trying to get free.

He stopped kicking and laid there for a few seconds, knowing he needed to calm the fuck down and clear his head. He had the hand saw. He knew there was a way out but he was reluctant to do it. He was a tough mother fucker. Everyone that knew him knew that. But goddamn, man. Could he really saw off his own goddamn hand?

He sat up, thankful that the sun had gone down. He was dying of thirst but at least he wasn't trapped under the sun anymore. He would probably end up bleeding to death if he managed to saw through his wrist but there wasn't shit he could do about it. He had to get off the roof and bleeding out would be better than dehydration or getting torn apart by those dead fucks that were...

Movement out of the corner of his eye had him shifting so he was on his knees. At first he was sure that the door had finally gave and they were coming for him. He was about to become chow for the sons of bitches. A second later he realized that it couldn't be them because whoever was approaching him was coming at him from the other end. Not from the door at all.

"Are you alive?" A hushed feminine voice asked from the shadows.

His head shot up as the sound of the woman's voice reached his ears. The voice wasn't a familiar one but it was definitely the voice of someone alive. He needed to make sure he kept himself in check and not piss the woman off before she could help him get the fuck out of here. "Yeah, I'm alive." His voice was barely recognizable because he was completely parched.

"Why did those people cuff you to that pipe?"

He could see that she wasn't a whole lot closer than she had been when she had first made her presence known but it wasn't easy to see anything at all. There was no moon, no light bouncing up from the streets below. Just dark. "You see that, did ya?" He asked, keeping his voice as calm as he could as his eyes flicked from her shadow to the door.

"I saw. I was in a building across the street. I watched you until it got too dark to see. There's a fire escape on the south side so when the street cleared up I took it. Long climb."

"You risk your ass just to save some stranger?" He asked, clearly skeptical. He wasn't ashamed to say that if their positions were reversed, the most he'd do for someone he didn't know was snipe them from the safety of the other building. And that was only if he felt like wasting a bullet on a stranger.

"It's rough out here alone. I thought maybe if I saved your ass then there was a possibility that you would feel like you owed me one and cut me some slack. Even if you were a dangerous psychopath."

He squinted into the darkness. "I'm no psychopath and trust me, you get me outta here and I'll owe your ass more than one."

"I have a gun. I don't wanna use it on anyone living. I haven't had to so far but I'll do what I need to. You understand that?" She asked, her voice sounding sure.

He nodded and then realized that she couldn't see him so he muttered a quick yeah. He wasn't too keen on getting talked down to by some bitch but he wasn't in any position to start stating his opinions at the moment. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a guess that you don't have a spare handcuff key on you. Am I right?" He asked.

She moved a little closer. "I know how to pick one, if that helps."

He snorted and shook his head. He knew this was too good to be true. He was probably hallucinating again because no one was really stupid enough to think they could pick one of these damn things...

"Here," she said, sounded much closer.

He hadn't realized he had shut his eyes until they snapped open. He felt her pushing something into his free hand. He blinked in surprise when he realized that both of his hands were free. "What the fuck? How the hell did you do that?" He asked, tightening his grip on what he hoped was a bottle of water.

"You passed out for about thirty minutes. I just now got you free. Picking a lock isn't as easy when you're doing it blind."

He unscrewed the cap and turned up the bottle. To his surprise, it wasn't water but luke warm Gatorade. He was glad for it too. He hated the shit but he needed to get his ass hydrated so he could get the fuck off this roof and back to that camp. He was gonna find his little brother and then he was going to kill that piece of shit bitch that showed up and fucked up his whole goddamn day.

"You might wanna take it easy. You don't want to throw that back up since you seem to need it," she said quietly.

He lowered the bottle and narrowed his eyes. He was about to tell her not to worry about what the fuck he was doing but then his stomach swirled with nausea. He kept his snide remark to himself. "So, you're alone out here? No group?"

"No. It was me and my sisters. That was it."

"Sisters, huh? Where the hell are they?" He asked, willing the sick feeling to pass so he could drink some more.

"Dead. And that's all I'm gonna say about it." Her tone was matter of fact but Merle guessed if there had been enough light to see her, her eyes would have spoken more than her voice could. It was one of the drags about being sober. He was a lot more observant when he was sober and it usually proved to be a pain in the ass. He had his own fucking problems and he didn't feel like he needed to feel sorry for the rest of the world. Out of habit he checked his pocket for his meager stash but there was nothing there.

He was going to hurt Officer Friendly even more for that dick move. Throwing his shit over the side of a building. Who the fuck did that to people? He huffed out and breath and took a few more drinks before he said anything to her. "So, now you just wonder around alone and rescue strange men that's gotten themselves cuffed to buildings?"

"Actually I was out there when somebody started shooting down in the street. Those things came from all over so I managed to get into the building and hide out. They passed right by because of the idiot with the gun. I got to the roof in time to see that guy hit you in the face with his rifle and then you got cuffed to the pipe."

So she had missed the part where he had beat the shit out of T-dog. That was a plus. She would have probably left his ass to rot if she'd seen that. Not that the smart mouth mother fucker hadn't had it comin'. Maybe he hadn't had to beat him that bad but he'd been wired, fucked up and he had been itching for one of them to start talking shit. "Those people you saw leave me here, that's the group my brother's with. There's a lot more people than that at camp. You get me off this roof I'll take you to them and then I'll get my brother and split."

"I don't want to stay with a group that would just cuff a man like a dog up here," she muttered as she sat down a few inches away. He still couldn't see her. "And I don't think we're gonna make it down tonight anyway. You're dehydrated."

"Don't tell me what the hell I'm capable of doing girl. I'll be just fine. Matter of fact, I was damn close to sawin' this hand right off before you showed up."

"I'm not a girl. I'm thirty years old for Christs sakes. And that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. I'm sure you're some big tough guy or whatever but my God!"

He scowled but kept his mouth shut, remembering that she was the one pulling the strings for now. Instead he pulled himself up off the ground, reaching out to grab the pipe to steady himself as he cursed under his breath.

He was surprised when he felt her grip his arm. "Easy there big guy. We'll have to take a ladder down a few stories before we even get to a landing and can take the switchback stairs down. No need to rush."

"I need to get to my brother," Merle growled, forcing himself not to shove her away.

"And I intend to get you to him but I won't be able to do that if you black out on the ladder and end up a stain on the sidewalk. Take it easy."

He pushed himself off the pipe and ignored the vertigo. He hated to admit it but she was right. He needed a minute; or more. "What's your name anyway, hero?" He asked, glad to hear that his voice sounded a lot stronger than it had before.

"Madison, but people that don't mind getting on my nerves call me Maddy," she said, only a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"You got a last name?" He asked, taking another bottle that she pushed into his hand.

"That's none of your business. What's yours?"

A million quips popped into his head but he simply wasn't in the mood to fuck with anyone. "Merle."

"What's your last name, Merle?" She asked.

"You don't get free information, Maddy," he said just to annoy her. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." Well, there goes his plan to not fuck with her anyway. He expected her to get offended and huff around like the blonde bitch always did but she didn't. He was surprised to hear her quiet laughter.

"You swear you won't laugh?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Nope." He had enough respect to not stand there and lie to her.

She blew out a heavy breath. "Fine. My last name is Clutterbuck."

Merle snorted. "Goddamn, that's rough. You must have had a hell of a time in school. I can't see what you look like yet but I'm hopin' you're at least one hot fuckin' number with a name like Clutterbuck."

"Don't be a dick, Merle. It's unbecoming. What's your last name?"

He chuckled, feeling much better than he had before. "Dixon."

"Damn it," she cursed. "That's a great last name."

He sat down on the pipe, willing to wait until he felt one hundred percent before he risked going down. She was right. He wouldn't admit it to her but he'd admit it to himself.

I read the other day that Andrew Lincolns last name is actually Clutterbuck and I laughed for like thirty minutes. I had to use it, just for the hell of it. Lol