Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.


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A thin and thready light weaved its way through the boarded up window, sending pale little tendrils that whispered at her skin. Heat, soothing and comforting held her in its blanketed grasp. She snuggled more firmly into it, not wanting slumber to drift away, her eyes refusing to open. She couldn't recall a time that she had felt so warm and safe. A soft little sigh escaped her, and she slipped her arm more tightly around the solid presence that cushioned her.

"Was it as good for you, as it was for me, darlin'?" a voice drawled so close to her, that she could feel the soft little exhale of breath brush against her skin.

Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring up at smoky blue eyes that watched her intensely.

Oh my God...Merle.

He was leaning above her, was so close that their noses were almost touching, his breath soft and warm, tickling against her lips. Carol felt her cheeks heat and redden. She swallowed thickly and suddenly, her eyes widening as his head moved fractionally nearer to hers, his mouth now so close to hers that she wouldn't even have to move for her lips to find his. Her heart beat an almost frantic tattoo in her chest and she froze, the sudden realisation that her arm was still bound tightly around his waist. She blinked rapidly, half wondering if she was still asleep, but his face was still close to hers, and she fought against the paralysis that gripped her, even though she felt warmth start to course through her veins.

"For Christ's sake, stop it Merle," she hissed, her hand loosening its grip from about his waist. She let her hand slip away, and placed it firmly against his chest, pushing him from her, feeling him move easily under her hand.

He chuckled next to her, "Don't flatter yerself mouse. I ain't never forced myself on a woman that wasn't willing, an' it sure as hell ain't happenin' now."

She thought she could hear disappointment in his voice. "I didn't mean that..." Mentally she kicked herself, wondering why she'd said that.

"Well hell, ye really are Daryl's' little bitch, aint'cha?" he grinned at her. "Your jus' the same as him."

"How dare you!" Carol shoved herself from the bed, sudden anger flashing hotly through her. Her feet hit the wooden floor, and she pushed herself away from him, away from his comfortable warmth. She paced across the room and stood there with her arms banded tightly about herself. "I don't care what you think," she spat.

"Makes two of us sweetheart," Merle drawled as he sat up, his eyes flashing at her darkly. He retrieved his prosthesis from where it lain, and strapped it back on, ignoring her as she watched him. He stood up slowly, stretching to remove the kinks and ache from his limbs. She was still stood there regarding him warily, and he brushed past her as he walked to the doorway, his elbow coming out and knocking against her. He bit down a laugh as she glared at him.

"We're leaving now?" she questioned as she stepped across the floor, picking her backpack up, her eyes still following him.

"I gotta take a piss, unless ya wanna come an' watch me do that too," he pulled the chair from the door, and turned his head, smirking at her.

His boots rattled down the rickety steps and she just stared after him, shaking her head as she pulled the straps of the bag over her shoulder. Stepping out of the shack, she paused, taking a last look behind her. She saw a dark object laying on the floor, and bent to pick it up. A ripple of sadness coursed through her as she realised it was the gun that the former inhabitant had used to end his life. With a small sigh she dropped it into her bag and followed after Merle into the woods.

She stood in the morning light, feeling the first rays of sun warm and pleasant against her skin. A twig snapped to her left, and she turned on her heel watching as Merle walked towards her. He quirked an eyebrow, and she bit at her lip, not wanting to smile at him.

"Disappointed ya didn't come and enjoy the view mouse," he chided her, reaching out and pulling the bag off her shoulder. Her hand snaked out and grabbed at the strap, stopping as he sighed, "Let me carry that."

"I thought you said only pussies carry bags," Carol reminded him.

"An' I told you that I can be nice." He hoisted the straps over his shoulder. "See? Ain't I behavin'? Maybe if I keep doin' this sorta crap, you can put in a good word with our Darlina."

"Will take more than carrying a bag, Merle," she laughed as they walked. There was a worn path that they hadn't seen the night before, and she saw it lead right through the thick expanse of trees.

"Mhm, maybe. Ya wont take me up on any other offer darlin', I'm getting damn well disappointed. Yer missing out on some good ole Merle lovin'."

Carol glanced at him walking at her side, her head tilting to one side, "You don't ever quit, do you?"

He smiled at her briefly, the lines around his eyes crinkling, "Ya only have to say 'yes', sugar."

She rolled her eyes at him, choosing not to answer and encourage him. They walked in silence for a while, stopping only twice to put down three walkers that had ambled through the treeline, low throaty growls breaking the heavy stillness.

The sun was now beaming overhead, and she felt sweat prickle at the back of her neck. "Merle, stop a minute, need to take a break." He looked at her grunting in reply, and she walked over to him, unzipping the bag and taking out two water bottles. She noted regretfully that they didn't have much left. "Here," she handed him the bottle that had the most water in it, flipping the lid on hers and swallowing it gratefully. She let herself lean against a thick tree, thankful of the heavy foliage that shaded her.

He drained his bottle, and stuffed it back into the bag on his shoulder.

"So, what happened at Woodbury?"

"Ain't nothin' to tell," he turned brusquely from her.

"You never said, and Daryl hasn't said much about it either..."

"What the hell you want me to tell ya?" Merle looked at her."I found my baby brother, an' we fuckin' lived happily ever after? Is that what ya wanna hear?"

Carol shook her head, ignoring his sarcasm. "I just want to know."

"You don't know jack shit," Merle spat, "You don't know what he did. What he is capable of. The Governor."

Carol looked at him sympathetically, "I don't know unless you tell me."

Merle paused for a few moments, looking at her thoughtfully, his hand rubbing at his face. His mouth twisted in to a sneer."You know, for a while...I was somebody there. Woodbury. I mattered. Now I ain't worth nothin. I'm a dead man walking. There ain't no good for me no more. All I had was my baby brother, an' now I reckon I about lost him too."

"Daryl wouldn't just write you off..."

"What the fuck you know? You reckon you know my little brother?" He shook his head, scowling. "Sister, yer fooling yourself, an' your wasting your time with me. I done plenty bad things, some I ain't even proud of. Shit. I don't even know why I do what I do."

"Merle," Carol stepped nearer to him, despite the hammering in her chest warning her to move away. She found she just couldn't. Something about him compelled her. "What happened?"

"You really wanna fuckin' know? Do ya?" He barked, his voice heightening in tone. Carol knew she should just drop it, but the look in his eyes pushed her further. She wanted to know, and she wasn't prepared to let him intimidate her.

"I do," she said, her voice a soft lull against the roughness of his anger.

Merle glared at her, before pushing her abruptly against the trunk of the tree. Her back hit the wood solidly, almost painfully and despite the widening of her eyes, she refused to back down from his angry gaze. He had to give her kudos for that. The woman had balls. His hand pressed hard against her shoulder, and angrily he smacked his prosthesis against the wood above her head.

"Tell me," she insisted, her voice nothing more than a low soothing whisper.

Merle leaned his prosthetic arm against the tree trunk above her, his arm pressing hard against her shoulder, pinning her. He looked down at the ground, his breath harsh, before raising steely eyes to hers. She met his gaze unblinkingly. "He got an 'arena'. The Governor. Two men fight, while he got a whole goddamned captive audience watchin, an' he pushes biters in to the mix. You know?"

Carol frowned, "I wasn't at Woodbury, so no I don't know. What do you mean, walkers?"

His eyes narrowed and he sighed in impatience, "The Governor keeps biters jus' for that arena. Pulls their teeth out, keeps 'em chained. Pits two fighters against each other."

"That's sick," she said faintly.

"You don't know half of what went down in Woodbury. He'd got my lil brother. Put a sack over his head. Demanded that we fight to the death. Blood against blood." He laughed bleakly, and she could see sorrow chase briefly across the blue of his eyes. "He called me a traitor, said I'd led them all to Woodbury. Bullshit, I never did any such fuckin' thing. But that Governor? He's there, pitting me and Daryl against each other, winner walks free. I maybe a fool where my baby brother is concerned, but I ain't stupid. Was no way I was gonna let anythin' happen to him. Sure we took a few licks, we both hit good, but no way was I gonna bust his ass."

"He made you and Daryl fight?" She asked quietly, the thought making her feel nauseous.

Merle let his arm drop loosely to his side and let go of his grip on her, stepping back a pace instead. He felt confused as to how her closeness made him feel, and he didn't want to dwell on it. "Is what I said sister, ye gone deaf?" he growled.

Carol stayed leaning against the tree, her hand rubbing at her shoulder. "What about Glenn? Maggie?" She asked quickly, not really wanting to understand his reasoning, but wishing to drive the conversation while his mindset was focused.

Merle scowled at her largely, "Glenn? An' that sweet lil thing of a farmers girl?" He laughed again, "Shit, I don't owe them nothin'. Fuck all. I don't regret what I did, and don't go expecting me to."

"You beat Glenn up!" Carol choked out. "You almost killed him."

"Whatcha expect? I was pissed off! Kim chi left me up on that rooftop with Mr. Yo and the rest of them spineless fuckin pussies. You really expect me to forgive them for that? I lost my fuckin hand 'cause of 'em. When I found them, that chink kid was hardly gonna volunteer where Daryl was. So yeah, I took 'em both right back to Woodbury. I wanted answers, so I tried a little 'friendly persuasion'. Kid did surprise me though, beat off that biter I threw at him. He looks so small an' sneaky, but he's a tough lil son of a bitch. He'll get over it."

Carol felt sick at his answer, felt sick that he had felt the need to resort to violence to achieve his ends. It seemed that was all he knew, and she felt sadness sneak up inside her. Daryl and Merle both, what their past lives before the turn must have been like. She wasn't surprised to feel a sudden bolt of anger and sympathy surge through herself. They were all victims, herself included.

A sudden sound reached her and she moved her head trying to locate its source. She felt the skin on her arms prickle, her breath catch in her throat. "Merle," she hissed suddenly, "Shut up."

His eyes flashed angrily at her, "Woman, don't ya tell me to shut..."

She turned on him, grabbing his arm and touching his lips with one finger. "Listen."

Merle cocked his head, his ears straining, then he heard it. Voices, male, coming through the trees, slightly muffled, and from the sound of it, there were a few of them. He looked at her grimly, "Stay here mouse, let me check this out."

"No, I'm coming with you," she let go of his arm and stood back from him, waiting, her hand skimming and then resting on the gun tucked into the waistband of her pants.

"No, you ain't. I'll keep you safe. Jus' you stay here an' wait for me, I ain't gonna be gone long." He stared at her in warning, and then he nodded curtly before creeping towards the voices, palming his gun to his hand.

...