A/N…Not much to say this time. Just a big hello to you all and a thank you to those who review. You all make my day shine a little brighter! I'll answer reviews from the last chapter in a bit, want to get a jumpstart on the next one. This fic is still evolving, more ideas coming to me every day. Hope you enjoy this one! ~~ Megan

Part 13

When Sanctuary is a place filled with monsters…

As he hid his bag in the trunk and settled several guns out of sight in the front seat, Merle was glad for the brains he'd been blessed with that had had him preparing to leave this town for as long as he had. As far as he'd wheedled his way into the boss's good graces—became the Governor's right hand hacksaw—he knew it was only a matter of time before he'd have to leave and take his chances on his own. He'd never been averse to taking what he needed from those too weak to defend themselves, but when he'd been asked to kill the few survivors that were left in order to take everything they had, his conscience had struggled. He wasn't averse to taking whatever supplies he found, but everyone deserved a chance to survive these days. He pulled his shots as much as he could allow without getting caught, but sometimes he had killed, showing his loyalty and ruthless persona whenever he felt it was needed.

The second he'd seen that little girl stumble right out in front of his vehicle, and then recognised her as one of the few kids from the quarry camp, he knew his time left in Woodbury was limited. He could have left her to die in the road, using her location as a clue and started his search for Daryl straight away, but he didn't think he'd make it very far if his brother was still attached to the Atlanta group and Merle let slip how he'd found them. Besides, didn't seem right to let a little girl die alone on the road. He knew Milton had been cooking up all sorts of experiments, and if anyone had half a chance to know what to do with her, it'd be him.

And Merle hadn't been disappointed. The wily little brown-noser had come through after all, bringing the girl back from the brink of death. He stood over her now, and Merle's gut clenched, striding faster to reach him and make sure the scientist wasn't trying to kill her before he was able to get her out of there. Up close, Merle could see the conflict his conscience had created. Milton wasn't a bad man, Merle knew, just too terrified of the Governor to be disloyal, no matter what the cost. Even if that cost was a little girl's life.

"You're really going to take her out there and kill her?"

He'd been there the same time as Merle when the order had been issued, and Merle wasn't about to let the pussy know he wasn't going to do anything to this kid except use her to help find his brother, but he had to act tough, be the Governor's man, and leave this place without any suspicion aimed his way.

"You heard the Governor. You wouldn't be suggestin' I mutiny over a slip of a girl, would ya?" he cackled nastily, eyeing the scientist with contempt. "You got bigger balls than me, little man."

Merle scooped her up into his arms, and she stirred, moaning quietly as she turned her face into his chest and went back to sleep. Merle froze, concerned anew she might wake up and spill something she shouldn't, as well as how comfy she was getting as he carried her out of there. He avoided Milton's troubled gaze as he left, looking carefully to make sure no one was out during curfew to see them. He carried her to the car that he always used to do the Governor's dirty work, relieved the man himself had refrained from coming down and giving him a personal and private send-off.

Merle laid her across the back seat, haphazardly draping a blanket over her body before slamming the door and quickly sliding into the driver's seat. It had been prearranged for someone on guard duty to open the gates and let him out, and he gave a casual salute as he steered out of the town, barely breathing until he heard the gate clang shut behind him and he gunned the accelerator.

Biters veered into his path and he just knocked them out of his way with the car, driving intently until he was a distance from the town and about to join the main road. A movement in the rearview mirror made him grin and he chuckled.

"You can sit up now, kid. We're safe enough for now."

Sophia slowly sat up, her face a pasty shade of pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on her top lip and forehead, and her eyes wild with fear.

"You're that man that used to shout and cuss a lot when we were at the quarry. The one that didn't come back when they found Carl's dad in Atlanta."

Merle's lips thinned as he reigned in his temper. Leaving him on that roof was a sore point, and as the memory played in his brain he tapped his stump angrily on the steering wheel. There was a whole lot he could say on the subject, but somehow he didn't think it would do anything but scare the girl.

"Are you gonna kill me?"

Without thinking he slammed on the brakes, hanging on like hell when the car fishtailed. Struggling one-handed to straighten it on the road, he was aware of the kid being thrown around in the back and he grit his teeth together, silently relieved when the car finally came to a stop and the smell of burnt rubber teased at his nostrils. Slamming the car into park, Merle twisted around in his seat and glared at the girl.

She'd shrunk up against the back corner, her hand squeezing the door handle and Merle realised she was about to bolt. As weak as she was, he knew how much fear could compel a person when they were on the run. She didn't have to be afraid—at least, not of dying by his hand—and Merle knew it.

"Not gonna kill ya," he admitted roughly. "Fact is, I saved your walker ass. You an' me are gonna find my brother and your mamma, if that's alright with you?"

She stared at him with her big, blue eyes and after a few beats, she finally nodded, relaxing against the door.

"You wanna ride up front?" He patted the seat when she nodded, but then thought better of it when she went to get out of the car. "No. Can you climb through? There's walkers outside."

She looked out the window, terror making her breath ragged as the first walker pounced on the car, making her squeal. With little evidence of how close to dying she'd been, she dived across the middle of the car and sat in the passenger seat, snapping the seatbelt in place and panting with fear as two more walkers descended on the car.

Merle shifted back into drive and on they went, leaving geeks chasing slowly after them with no hope of ever catching up.

"So," he said after an awkward silence. "Where's your daddy? Why isn't that asswipe out searchin' for ya?"

"How do you know he isn't?" she snapped back at him and he chuckled.

"You're a sassy little thing, ain't ya? Believe me, girly, I know. I'd've seen if someone was out there lookin' for ya."

She nodded, her shoulders hunched and her eyes focused on her hands that sat stiffly in her lap. It was hard to see the expression on her face as they drove through the dark. "He's dead. And Amy, Jim…others. Daryl went back with Rick and T-Dog and Glen to get you. T-Dog said he chained the door so the walkers couldn't get to you, so they thought you'd still be alive," she said. "Walkers attacked the camp before they got back and my Dad was in the tent. He…wasn't feelin' right." She shrugged, like losing her daddy wasn't high on her list of things to grieve over.

"Well, shit." Merle thought about what she'd said, knowing for sure Daryl would have gone back but a little surprised the black prick would have dared show his face after dropping that key down the drain. He barely spared a thought for all those that perished in the camp. Wasn't like it was his fault. He was too busy trying to survive after being forced to cut off his own damn hand.

They travelled in silence for a time, Merle darting quick looks to the side to check she wasn't about to turn when he wasn't watching, but her eyes remained glued to the road and her body sat stiffly beside him.

"So, what was ya doin' out on the road all alone? Is your mamma dead, too?"

Her hands clenched into fists and she ignored him. Then, when the quiet stretched too long for even her nerves, she decided to start asking questions of her own.

"How am I not a walker? I know I had the fever, just like Jim did when we left him." She was watching him through narrowed eyes, narrowed because of the dark he suspected and he grinned.

"You believe in magic?"

"Not even a little bit," she sassed back and he chuckled, enjoying having the kid along a whole lot more than he'd ever thought he could.

"Back at Woodbury, dull as ditch water scientist type does experiments. Thought if you had any kind of chance, he'd be the one to make it happen. Abracadabra, an' here you is, lookin' for all the world like shit but far from dead." Mirth was a wonderful thing, Merle was discovering. He hadn't felt so good in months.

"You think maybe you found me for a reason?" Sophia asked and he contemplated the question with a seriousness he didn't employ often.

"You mean, like did God drop you in my lap so you could help me find my baby brother?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, rolling the idea around in his head.

"Or my falling in front of the only car in the world that could have taken me to someone who could stop me becoming a walker," she stated boldly.

"Looks like we both had a good reason to find each other. Maybe it was God, or maybe jus' dumb luck. Ain't no difference to me."

"I…I just thought…if God led me to you so you could help me get cured…maybe He didn't hate me for praying for Daddy to die."

Merle's eyes snapped to hers, an impressed grin on his lips. "Well ain't you a bloodthirsty little bitch."

Her eyes went wide and she flattened herself against the door. "I just wanted him to stop hurting my mom," she cried and Merle could have kicked himself for making the kid cry.

"I'm thinkin' that daddy o' yours got 'xactly what he deserved. Don't go losin' your water over it. What's yer name, anyway?"

She sniffled and shot an irritated glare at him. "You don't remember my name?" she accused, voice haughty , snapping from tears to temper in two seconds flat.

"Rememberin' names wasn' high on any of my priority lists," he admitted, sheepish. Her shoulders raised in a slow shrug and Merle took a good look at her, frowning when he saw the exhaustion settling around her mouth and her drooping eyes. He slowed the car to a stop, reached over the back to snag the blanket left there, and gently tucked it around her. "You best get some sleep, little lady. You can grant me the privilege of knowin' your name when you wake up."

Her eyes were already closed as she snuggled into the blanket—a big, fancy crocheted one he'd found in one of those dressers many of the houses and apartments in Woodbury had. This one had a splash of pink and he was damned if he could think of why he'd thieved it in the first place, but now, seeing it settled around the girl's shoulders, he figured maybe he'd somehow known all along.

Before she fell completely into unconsciousness, perhaps jolted as he pushed the car back into drive, she opened one lazy eye and focused on him, though he could tell he must be little more than a swimming image in her sleepiness.

"Sophia," she said, then, as if the effort of that one word had sapped every energy cell in her body, she slumped against the seat and slept.

Merle nodded, the name ringing a few bells now that he'd heard it again. Sophia. He remembered now the softness of her mamma's voice as she'd say that name and guide her daughter away from the sack of shit that was her daddy. The fool did little else but sit on his ass smoking cigarettes all day long and staring daggers at his wife while she worked to put food on his plate and keep his clothes clean. Merle had been waiting for the prick's supply to run short because he was just itching to see the lazy prick go on a run to get some more. He knew withdrawal would make the guy twitchy, probably resulting in an escalation of the violence toward the wife—and Merle had just been waiting for a legitimate reason to put the sonovabitch on his ass. If there was one thing Merle knew intimately—other than the fairer sex—it was withdrawal, and he knew that woman and her kid wouldn't be safe once the ciggies ran out. But then he'd popped his own little high and got himself locked up on that roof and it had all gone to shit. Didn't mean he didn't feel a measure of satisfaction that good old Ed had come to a fitting end. He just hoped his little brother had been there to spear his brains and make that death stick.

A quick glance to his side to check she was still breathing had Merle release a relieved sigh. He wasn't keen on Jesus's methods more than half the time—losing his hand being the one he struggled with the most—but for the most part he was solid with the plan. He'd survived being left alone and at the mercy of those biters straining at that door to flood onto the roof and make him a fresh meal. He'd survived being saved by a lunatic like the Governor, adapting to be his lieutenant so he'd always be one step ahead of everyone else, and now he'd been delivered the one best chance of finding his little brother—a little miracle of her own. Yeah, he might struggle a little with the directive, but he couldn't deny that when he'd needed them to, the solutions had come to him. Couldn't deny that Jesus had his back—even a screwed up, drug-addled motherfucker like him.

He had no doubt he'd find his brother—he was just unsure about what else he'd find.

Carol had barely slept the night before. Not surprising, really, when she'd slept away the entire day. Wanted to sleep what was left of her life away until Daryl had appeared like some mythical knight in dirt and sweat and threw her into the lake. She was sure it was the best wakeup call any girl could have received, and the kiss she'd planted on him before she'd run scared had all the makings of her very own fairytale.

Her heart thudded painfully every time she relived the kiss. His lips had been so warm against the chill of the water and his skin had burned against her hand as she'd skimmed shaking fingers up his neck to tangle in his hair. He'd smelled fresh and earthy and reminded her with an earth-shattering certainty what it was like to be attracted to a real man—something she'd banished from her life many years before when Ed had become ugly and started to paint a canvas of colourful bruises on her flesh.

His hands had never touched her, his lips remaining mostly immobile and when he uttered the smallest whimper against her that sounded too much like some kind of pain, she'd darted away and ran, somehow managing to find most of her clothes in the dark and taking him up on the offer of his shirt. She'd run back to camp with her cheeks burning, her stomach swirling with a frenzied butterfly fight that would put kick boxers in a ring to shame, and an ambition to hide from Daryl for the rest of her natural life.

But as she'd lain in bed that night, completely unable to sleep, she relived that kiss until it was burned in her heart. Relived those moments of them bathing together, and hoped that she hadn't managed to scare him completely away.

Rick knew he should be appreciating the relaxing sounds of breakfast. They were all gathered together like family, sharing the first meal of the day around the campfire, everyone safe and with food in their bellies. Carol looked more nervous than usual, he noticed, seeing her fill Daryl's plate with eggs before going back to the fire to make up some more. She hadn't looked at the man and just barely managed to tip the pan in the direction of the plate before she was racing off, Daryl swearing under his breath at the dregs of eggs that missed the plate and fell in his lap instead. Something was up with those two, and he knew it had stemmed from the dumping she'd had at the lake, but when Carol had returned looking fresh and clean and sporting Daryl's shirt, he'd thought maybe something else had come of it. Daryl's attempts to catch her eye and her refusal to give in made Rick suspect something entirely different must have happened and he was slowly heading to the conclusion that he'd have to step in and take the redneck to task for upsetting a grieving mother.

He clenched his jaw, knowing that anyone that looked at him right now might get the impression he was burning inside with anger, and they wouldn't be straying too far from the truth. But as he skipped over the Carol and Daryl show, and skimmed over his wife as she helped their recovering son with his breakfast, his eyes drifted past their camp and settled on Hershel's old farmhouse. He could see Maggie on the porch in the distance, shaking her head, and he wondered what that was about. Was she looking at their camp and getting steamed that they were still on her father's land? Rick knew Herschel wanted them gone, seeing them as a nuisance now he'd finished his good deed and patched up Carl, but he also knew that Herschel was at heart a good man. A God-fearing man and if he really knew what life was like out on the road, he wouldn't be so quick to push them back out amongst it.

The plate in his hand came back into focus and Rick dragged in a shaky breath. Life was so precarious now—they'd already lost Sophia so stupidly, carelessly. He'd almost lost his own son and no matter how relieved Rick was that Carl had made it through, he couldn't help feel the guilt lodge deep in his soul that he'd not been able to protect Sophia for Carol. One little girl and he'd been so completely useless and now, on the edge of being kicked off the farm for good, he recognised how very helpless he was to save all these people.

He'd just have to fight harder, Rick decided, scooping up the last of his eggs and wishing for a few more grains of salt to flavour it. There were no options back out on the road. Lori and Carl would be at risk wherever they went and Shane was a loose cannon, and the rest of them had already lost too much to go back out there and lose some more. He'd just have to convince Herschel that they could be useful, that they could…

"Everybody?" Glenn's voice cut through the calm, leisurely breakfast and everyone stopped chewing for a moment to listen to him. Taking centre-stage was something the young pizza-runner had never really attempted before, but as Rick watched him fidget nervously before all their eyes, Glenn took a deep breath and blew a massive hole in their newly safe world.

"The barn is full of walkers."