Previous Chapter if skipped - Wren was kidnapped and hurt.

Merle had tracked the drag marks until they turned into tire tracks. It took hours, but thankfully the dumb fucks had stuck to the dirt/grass, making following them easy.

It was getting dark when he heard the first scream way off in the forest. There was an increase in walkers, but nothing that worried Merle, With his new prosthetic hand-blade, dispatching them was easy as pie and those fuckers were noisy bastards in the scrub. But something had their attention and it sounded bad.

He picked up the pace, ducking behind and around the dead as they followed the screams as well. The screams were different now, high pitched and feminine and Merle felt a fear he hadn't felt in decades.

Wren.

As suddenly as they had started, the screams stopped and an expectant hush fell over the whole forest. The sun had disappeared long ago and the dead were moving faster.

Abruptly, the sounds of gunfire rang out and Merle figured that the dead had finally caught up with whoever was making all that racket. He sprinted, shoving walkers out of the way and stabbing those that looked like they were going to be a problem to him.

Feeling a bullet whiz past his ear, Merle ducked down and crept forward and felt his blood boil.

Walkers were attempting to overrun some camp, but the men had some serious weaponry and were being successful at keeping them at bay. Someone hollered from the truck and the last few men scrambled on while still firing. But all Merle saw was the hanging woman, naked as the day she was born and walkers getting close. Looking up, he saw that the tree was a big ass one so without another thought, he was scaling that sucker like a babe to it's momma's teat. Within moments, just as the first walker pulled Wren in for a bite, Merle yanked on the rope, unbalancing the walker who knocked his neighbour over and hauled Wren up into her beloved trees.

It took him about an hour to scale up high enough with the wounded girl that the geeks couldn't see them and he found a nice deep bracket in the tree where several branches had spread out, making a nice concave platform. It was just big enough to lay Wren down, tiny ass little thing that she was. By the light of the moon, Merle would have gagged if he had been any other man. Blood covered her literally head to toe. He couldn't see a single bare patch of clean skin. Running his hands over her body, he could feel fresh blood all over, but none was running or pumping and with the night dark forest full of walkers, ain't much he could do anyway. So he pulled off his hunting pack he always took with him and he carefully wrapped her up in his old army blanket, tight as he could and he hoped it would be enough to keep her until morning.

It had taken a few days to clear out all the walkers that had gathered. Wren's blood didn't help as the geeks could all smell the fresh scent so eventually Merle ended up climbing down and using a long sharpened stick several times a day, stabbing the walkers from above until they were all done.

After that, he gathered everything that had been left behind by the group, reclaiming most of their stuff and surprisingly nearly half their food stash along with some the others left behind. He then carried her back to the cabin he had so proudly found days before. An old miners cabin, it was imbedded in the side of a hill, where someone had obviously not wanted to be far from his claim and literally built his cabin over the mouth of the mine. Once Merle boarded up the one window and strengthened the door, he turned his attentions to Wren.

If Wren's nursing of Merle had been long, Merle's shot at nursing Wren was longer and harder.

She bounced in and out of consciousness since he hauled her up into the tree, the first time had been as the sun crept up and Merle had woken from his light doze to find Wren gagging. He pulled her to a sitting position, leaned her head forward and whacked her on the back. A chunk of flesh had flown out and landed right in the centre of her lap and Merle poked it with his finger, not believing what he saw. He glanced at Wren and saw a satisfied smile on her face as she peered at him through massively swollen face. She grinned, the action pulling at the splits on her lips and bringing fresh blood to drip, but instead of telling her to cut it out and rest, he rested his forehead to hers.

"That's my girlie!" He whispered proudly and she rubbed her forehead against his once. " My HillBill." she whispered, the words merely air across her lips, but enough for Merle to catch and then she was out again. Merle looked at half a fucking penis sitting in his Wren's lap and suddenly grabbed it and stuck it on a stick next to him. It was Wren's trophy, she earned it, up to her what she wanted to do with it.

It was a toss up which was worse, her neck or her back. Both required a ton of stitches that made Merle curse and thank whatever was out there that she remained unconscious for the entire time. They had obviously flogged her - and hard too, the familiar looking stripes and patterns crisscrossed her back. Some were really deep and Merle was worried they wouldn't heal at all. Her neck was also a concern. A knife wound started at the point of where her right jaw and throat met and crossed down her throat to stop at the left side of her trachea. Whoever had done that had missed vital blood vessels, but she still bled like a stuck pig if she jolted the wounds. But more worryingly, the knife had clipped her trachea and Merle had no idea if she had sustained any injuries to her voice or esophagus. Once she started healing, she could drink the soup he made if it was cool and water, but she was slow and complained that it hurt constantly and refused any solid foods for a long while.

Not that she said it in so many words. His Wren was no longer chattering away. It took weeks for all the swelling to go down and the healing to start. Broken bones were harder to work with so Merle was glad that she had only gotten a slight infection on the deeper wounds on her back. Merle thanked his grandma for teaching him herbs and healing shit if nothing else, useless bitch she was in all other things.

Now Wren truly was the dull little bird as he had once privately thought, all faded browns and greys, like before he knew her better. Somber and silent, she lay in her bed eyes shut, sleeping for at least half the time Merle reckoned, the other half off away in her head. The first thing she had done when she was finally able to sit up and feed herself, was to motion for Merle's knife.

He looked at her askance.

"Wren, iffn ya're plannin on doin something stupid and undo all my fine ass nursing shit, I'll beat you girlie." He warned, only half jokingly. She didn't even blink but simply shook her hand out demandingly.

Hesitantly, he pulled his knife, flipping it and catching the blade, offered it to her handle first.

Then watched as she viciously hacked off all her hair, leaving it looking like a toddler had scalped a doll. Defiantly, Wren stared at Merle, daring him to say something, as her once long hair now lay in dark muddy coloured pools around her. He merely shrugged and silently asked for the blade back. He pulled her in to sit between his legs and set about tidying up bits she missed.

As before, they quickly fell into a routine. This time it was Merle who chatted and Wren who grunted or huffed in response.

As she had gotten better, she had taken to demanding Merle teach her how to fight. But teaching her to fight didn't hold the terrors at bay at night.

The first time a nightmare had struck Wren was about a week after that awful night. Merle had jolted from his sleep, sure that walkers had gotten into the cabin. He quickly realised that ..

Wren's voice seemed well enough to scream at least and

If she didn't hush up, there really WOULD be walkers at their door.

Placing a hand on her mouth had gotten him punched in his mouth, so he changed tactics and carefully hauled her up on him in an all encompassing hug and put her face into his chest, crooning her name quietly as he muffled her cries. He knew the second she woke as her entire body tensed like piano wire and he was about to let go when she grasped herself to him and broke down.

Now Merle wasn't any good with crying women. Hell, up til now, his longest relationship was 6 months with Tilly and she was tougher than boot leather and about as mean as a rattle snake.

So he followed Wren's lead. He held her as she sobbed her anguish and terror into his chest, stroking her head and holding her close, crooning her name, but never saying any bullshit platitudes.

Hours later and a drenched shirt, Merle sighed in relief as he felt Wren finally hiccuped once more and totally relax into sleep. He went to slide her into her sleeping bag, but her hands clutched convulsively at his shirt and a whimper crossed her lips. Merle huffed but pulled her back to his side, tucked his arm under her head and held her close as he himself caught up on his much needed sleep.

The first few nights after that, the nightmares would have Merle hushing Wren the same way, pulling her from her bed to his and hugging her tight. Twice she even called walkers to their door. So without a single discussion, one night when Wren went to bed, so did Merle, pulling his little Birdie in tight, her head tucked up under his chin and her arm around his waist and his arm keeping her close.

And that was that