Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, or the Dixon brothers, sadly.(If I did, Andrea would have killed the Governor in his sleep and Merle would never have died).

a/n: This story is set at Season 3:11 (I ain't a Judas). I have taken the liberty to moderately increase the time frame, to allow Team Grimes a few more days to recoup before the meeting with the Governor at the barn, while trying to keep the main plot as near to canon as I possibly can.

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The Wrong Brother

Carol had been greatly surprised to hear that Merle had been allowed to go on a supply run. She had asked to go, on Hershel's whispered insistence-he had wanted her to try to keep an eye on the men, and Rick amazingly had agreed. Carol could only guess that Hershel wanted to try to give the group some sort of reprieve from Merle. The last few days, the atmosphere at the prison had been extremely fraught, tensions were running sky high since the Woodbury incident. Tempers might cool a degree, if Merle was off the scene for a while.

The night before, she had been cooking for the group, lost in thought and not overly paying attention to what was being said, until she had heard Merle pipe up suddenly, "My my my, ain't you a lil cutie, what's your name sweetums?"

Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd peeked around the corner, spying Beth sat on the steps with the baby.

"Her name is Judith," Beth said, cradling the baby on her lap.

"Wasn't talkin' 'bout the babe," Merle smirked, obviously enjoying the way her eyes had widened in surprise. "Ah, Officer Friendly."

Carol had dropped the spoon in her hand with a clatter, rushing across to the young girl just as Rick strode in with Daryl.

"I see the babe has her father's good looks," Merle said laughing, staring at Rick, "Shame I hear he's dead."

"Shut it Merle," Daryl warned, glancing at the former sheriff.

"Meh," Merle said sourly, "See our friendly local neighbourhood officer has your balls tightly rammed in his pocket, baby brother. Say Daryl? When did ya become his bitch?"

"I ain't nobody's bitch," Daryl spat.

"Could'a fooled me."

"Merle? Could I have word?" Carol had interceded then, hurriedly taking a plate of food across to the man in the cell.

And so, it had seemed then, at that moment...an ideal situation for Merle to be away from the group, from the prison, and Carol wondered just how crazy she must have been to actually to agree with Hershel. Although lately her days seemed to consist of laundry, caring for the tiny baby, cooking and seemingly never ending guard tower duty. Maybe being away from the prison would do her some good too. Especially after Axel's and T-Dog's shocking deaths, her time spent in the tombs...she had tried so hard not to think about it, any of it, the way that T-Dog had sacrificed himself for her...the way her heart had broken as she had watched her friend fall under the weight of the walkers that had surged at them both... the hateful claustrophobia, the dense darkness, the heavy fetid stench of death...

So when Rick had announced suddenly to all of the group that he was going on a run, (which was a rarity in itself), and that he was taking Merle of all people with him, she had wanted to go, and of course, and if Merle was going, so was Daryl. Hell would have to freeze over if Daryl wasn't going to go anywhere where his brother was included, and not himself. She didn't really care for Merle, she only too well remembered the hot headed redneck at the quarry, remembered that half of the time the man had been high on drugs, was foul mouthed and foul tempered, and not for the first time, she wondered how he and Daryl could possibly be related. She was curious. That was part of the reason why she wanted to tag along, what with Hershel's insistence and of course, the other reason she had wanted to go was obviously Daryl.

Hershel had recently bemoaned the lack of fresh medicines, the small amount that Carl had found, and the amount in his own bag were dwindling rapidly what with injuries sustained by the group, his own recent disability included. And even though they took out most of the walkers with hand weapons-knives, daggers, anything that could be thrust through a rotten pulpy undead head...ammunition for the pistols and rifles were quickly being exhausted.

Merle's insistent scathing warnings of the Governor preparing for a retaliatory attack were naturally being taken very seriously. He had been party to the Governor...inside man and all of that. But even so, Carol couldn't help but wonder what exactly Merle's game was. Could be that it is was only out of sheer concern for his brother, knowing now all to well that Daryl wouldn't abandon their group again-she still didn't know exactly what had happened between them after Daryl had found Merle at Woodbury, but she thought it was more than that. Knowing what she did of him, it had to be. Merle never seemed to do anything unless something was in it for himself.

Sighing, and not really knowing-anticipation, frustration and curiosity boiling within herself, she sat on the bed in her cell, pulling her boots on. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her worn jacket, slipped it on, stooping to grab her backpack quickly. Her knife was sheathed at her waist, she always wore it. It didn't pay to let your guard down, even for a second. Reaching up to the top bunk of her bed, she grabbed her pistol, slipping it quickly into the waistband of her navy blue pants. Her fingers had grazed across the small paperback laying there next to her gun, and Carol smiled sadly, remembering that Maggie had given her the book some time ago, with a knowing smile and wink, some silly romance novel that Carol never had the time or inclination to really be bothered to read. But not wanting to hurt the younger woman's feelings, she had graciously taken the book.

And now both Glenn and Maggie were hurting, even though Maggie fought so hard to try to hide it from everyone else. Merle had a lot to answer for. Carol felt the smile slide from her face.

Slinging the backpack across one shoulder, she stalked her way through the prison. Impatience to be away gnawed at her, and walking determinedly, she stepped through the heavy prison door and out into the courtyard, eyes squinting against the sudden beams of sunshine that assaulted her senses.

Rick was already there waiting, offering her a small tight smile as she strode across to the Hyundai. Carl waited at the gates, ready to open them to allow them out, and she saw a sickly worried cast to his face. She raised one hand and waved to him, smiling reassuringly as she did so. She thought she saw him briefly smile back, head bobbing up in the sheriffs hat he wore, his one hand lifting up quickly, returning her greeting.

Daryl wasn't there yet and she tried to ignore the way her heart thumped quickly in her chest at the thought of him.

Carol stood with her hand resting on the back door of the car, glancing quickly up at Merle as he stood there leaning lazily against the trunk of the car, watching her through half lidded eyes. He noticed her observing him, and slowly peeked the tip of his tongue out, running it lasciviously across his upper lip. She narrowed her eyes at him in disgust, seeing the way his eyes crinkled humorously, the sardonic smirk painted across his lips, the way he slowly looked her up and down. She felt herself flush, and hated herself for it.

"Hey little brother! Was wonderin' when you was gonna show ya pretty face," Merle grinned as Daryl stomped heavily towards them.

"Merle," Daryl grunted in reply, his eyes swiftly moving from his brother to her. He shifted the crossbow on his back, one hand tugging at the straps. His other hand held his battered backpack loosely. He nodded at her briefly, but his eyes hesitated over hers for a split second longer, and she felt herself smiling at him, nodding back at him in an unspoken greeting.

"Carol here said she's more than happy to share the back seat with me," Merle said. "I dunno how that's gonna ride with Sheriff Rick there...say Darlina, ya reckon he gonna cramp my style?"

Carol gaped, "I said no such thing..."

"Shut it Merle," Daryl grimaced, "She ain't gettin' in no back seat with ya."

"Ain't that a shame," Merle sighed, opening the car door and climbing in.

Carol stepped to the front of the car, pausing as Daryl stood next her. His head was facing downwards, his boots scuffing the ground, and glancing up, his eyes smoldered at her through the tangled curtains of his hair, a sudden flash of intense blue, then swiftly removing his crossbow, he climbed into the car beside his brother.

For a second, Carol just hung onto the door, her knees feeling weak, and she felt mildly alarmed at the effect that just that one simple look from Daryl gave her. Although, when it came down to Daryl, nothing was ever really that simple. Raising her eyes to the sky, she breathed a silent shaky sigh, and climbed into the car next to Rick.

...