Hey all! This one-shot picks up directly after "Arrow on the Doorpost".

I claim no ownership to The Walking Dead, or any of its characters.

Sound of Madness

Merle stormed out of the prison, unable to contain his volatile temper any longer. These damn idiots were going to get him and his brother killed! If he had've gone when he wanted to, Phillip would be ten feet underground, rather than upright and talkin' about shootin' people left and right. He kicked the wall and swore under his breath as he bolted towards the back fence that separated him from at least half a dozen walkers.

He was so mad that he could just go off, all by himself, and take the Governor out once and for all. They could blow up Woodbury; that way, no one else could try to rise to the top to take the bastard's place. Walkers would come, of course, but at least the remains would make good distractions…

Unfortunately, no one would ever go along with his plan. They were all about teamwork or some bullshit like that. Even Michonne told him that, individually, none of them really had a say so anymore. It was what Rick said that mattered; that much practically boiled the redneck's blood.

He dug into his pocket, where he had stolen the half-full carton of cigarettes from his brother and shoved it in there before he could get caught. The elder Dixon brother just chuckled to himself as he leaned up against the fence and lit himself a cigarette.

Merle froze when he heard the back shutter open and then slam shut. He spun around on his heels, surprised to see Michonne coming towards him.

"Well," he greeted, smug as always. "If it isn't my Nubian Princess."

"Why do you call me that?" Michonne asked, regarding the redneck carefully. "I find it funny that you refer to me as yours anyway."

"It's just a thing, darlin'. Don't worry none too much about it," Merle told her, pushing himself off the fence. "Unless you want to be my princess, hmm?"

"Merle, just shut up," the katana-wielder gave him an amused smirk. "What are you doing out here?"

The redneck shrugged without hesitation, taking a particularly long drag. "Keeping myself from killing those idiot friends o' yours, I reckon."

"Why?" Michonne asked. "Surely, you should know better than to think you will get anywhere if you do…" She stared at him, waiting for an immediate answer.

"You know I was right, sweetheart," Merle began again, leaning closer into the other survivor's personal space. "You, me, and my brother. We go out to Woodbury, kill the Governor, blow up the whole fuckin' town, and leave the rest of 'em as walker bait."

"You plan to kill innocent people, only because we want one man dead?" Michonne asked, incredulously. "That hardly seems right."

"It ain't about what's right anymore. It's about surviving. In my world, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive," the redneck explained. His eyes raked up and down the dark-skinned survivor's lithe frame. It wasn't a wonder why he was attracted to this woman. She was damn baddass and even more gorgeous up close.

She just stared at him mutely, tilting her head just a fraction. "Is that what you keep telling yourself? You can't deal with the guilt?"

Merle took his last drag from his cigarette, just starting back at the Michonne. He flicked the butt onto the ground and stomped on it before regarding the younger fighter once more. Merle just chuckled and grabbed a hold of Michonne, pinning her tightly against the fence. "Ya think you're a real smart gal, huh?"

Just as Michonne was about to reply, she felt something pull her by the hair. She went to turn away from Merle to deal with the member of the undead herself, but she was surprised to see him jumping into action. The elder Dixon grabbed her with his good arm, pushing her out of the way long enough to stab the walker with his bayonet arm. When the walker fell to the ground, the two of them just stared back at each other. Both of them started to breathe more deeply as the moment went on. They were even closer now that she was actually in his arms.

"How about we take this little discussion somewhere else, darlin'?" Merle asked, his voice slightly raspy. He inhaled her scent, that sweet jasmine scent that seeped through her pores whenever she was fresh out of the shower. (And he swore up and down that his fascination with Michonne wasn't that serious.)

"I thought you wanted to kill the Governor…" Michonne told him, a devious glint in her eyes.

"His ass can wait," Merle murmured under his breath. He pulled her closer, millimeters apart from their lips touching. "I think you and I make a pretty good team, Mi chonne. What do you think?" he asked, tipping her chin up, gazing down into her dark brown eyes.

As their lips met, Michonne led them backwards, in hopes to find this cellblock relatively empty. The group—minus Daryl, of course, wouldn't be too happy about Merle and Michonne sleeping together. If this happened on a regular basis, then she supposed that they would find out eventually. But not now. It would just be too much of a hassle to get the others to shut up about it.

"Just let all of it fade away, darlin'," the redneck soothed, almost like he was able to read her thoughts. The shutter door slammed down shut, and he had his one good hand tracing all over her body. He kissed her bare shoulders as he slid down her tank top straps one by one.

o—o—o

"We gotta have strategy here, ya'll," Rick told his group, who were all surrounded in the main foyer of the prison. They were all looking towards him for any words of wisdom. "I want to get rid of this son of a bitch as much as the next guy, but—"

"But, we're just gonna dilly-dally around for the next few days," Merle countered, venom dripping from his tongue. "We're gonna wait for the fight to come to us. No, he doesn't want all of us as good as dead."

"Well, what are you suggesting?" the former deputy asked, glancing around the room to all of his fellow survivors. "It's not as easy as you think."

"Guys, come on!" Beth interrupted the two men, glaring at the both of them. She was just damn tired of everyone arguing. "If ya'll don't stop, this is gonna end up like the Randall situation like back at the farm!"

Michonne quirked an eyebrow as she watched the fight go on from a far. She stood a little ways away from Merle, but they could still keep an eye on each other.

"She's right," Hershel agreed. "Some of us want to go about this the humane way, but we all know that humane really isn't the answer we are looking for anymore."

"Well," Merle snorted, "Farmer Hershel obviously knows what's going on around here…"

"I still believe that we should move, as does Carol. But, like I've said before, we're all willing to do what it takes to stay together," Hershel continued, kissing the top of his younger daughter's head. Beth, like always, never left her father's side.

"This prison has been our safest harbor yet," Rick began, shifting his weight onto his other foot. His gaze was directly on the floor this time. "We cannot just leave it all behind. Where else is there to go?"

"Okay, then we stay here," Carol added from atop of the catwalk. She and Daryl were looking after Judith a.k.a. 'Little Ass-Kicker' while the discussion was going on.

"But that still doesn't answer my question," Merle finally piped up, pushing himself off of the pole he had been leaning against. "When are we going to war? We can't just wait for it to come to us!"

"We won't. But we have to strategize before we go in all half-cocked!" Rick called back to the irate redneck. "You, of all people, should know about strategy. That's the most important part of being a soldier."

"Strategy my ass," Merle murmured under his breath as he retreated from the meeting. When he brushed past Michonne, she had to fight the urge to follow him out again. But he really did some space, and she knew that. "We're all gonna die, no thanks to your sorry ass!"

Seeing his brother storm off, Daryl handed Judith back to Carol and hurried after Merle. If there was anything that Daryl knew about a pissed off Merle, it was that things started to break, and his older brother would end up being a bloody, aggravated mess.

The younger redneck expected the cursing, the threats, even when he started to throw things across the cell, but he was taken for a loop when Merle asked if he could go get Michonne for him. That much, he definitely wasn't expecting.

And that's where I'll end that. Review if you wanna see more!

P.S.: To those of you interested, there is a new poll on my profile, as to what pairings ya'll wanna see next. It's a very lengthy list, but you can choose up to two. I'll take prompts for any of those pairings. Just shoot me a PM!