Well, I'm a horrible person. When I don't have severe writer's block anymore, I'm like "NO, MOM I DON'T WANNA WRITE". So yeah, I'm just awful.

BUT. Here is the next chapter and I did something VERY, VERY different with it. I've had it planned out for a long while, but the words weren't coming. Concept was there, but not much else. So 60% of this chapter was written TODAY. In the last HOUR.

I hope it doesn't disappoint you guys. I know there's no Daryl OR Pru in it, but... There's someone else =)

Thank you so much, everyone who's been hanging in there with this story. You don't know how much your patience means to me. Welcome and THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU to all my new readers and reviewers, too. I hope I manage to keep you guys around, haha.

After this... I'm thinking you may love this next chapter I have coming up. I'll never tell what's gonna happen though.

LOVE TO ALL!
-Laur

"…Alright. Get back out there, then. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious… They're probably either dead or miles away by now, but I'm not taking any chances."

"I don' think them girls fool enough to come back 'round only after just escapin' last night."

Merle watched at the Governor, on his way to the far end of his catalogue-perfect living room, stilled his too relaxed amble abruptly and slowly turned to the men at his back. A smile spread across his face as he hooked his thumb into his belt loop and strode back. When he came to stand again at the table where Merle and Deacon sat, he grabbed the back of one of the rustic wooden chairs and casually leaned his weight onto his arm as he turned to the picture window overlooking Main Street.

"Deacon," he smiled as he turned back to his burly henchman, "The moment I start letting you do the thinking around here, is the moment I willingly stick my hand in the mouth of a biter, you simpleminded fuck!"

He punctuated the sentence by roughly sweeping the chair back and throwing it to the floor behind him. Merle stiffened a bit, but didn't otherwise react. He just kept his eyes to the soft finish of the wood in front of him. He heard Deacon suck at his teeth and lean back, tipping his chair on its back legs defiantly. No one said a thing for a moment as the Governor leaned over the table, glaring daggers at both of his men until Deacon reluctantly looked over to his superior and righted the chair without a contrary word. At that, the Governor relented, straightening back to his full height and as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, Merle brought his eyes back to his superior before he bent to right the chair and tuck it neatly back into its place at the table.

"Now if those girls are as good at getting out of a bind as they've proven, I'd like to not take any chances. Do you understand me? Because the safety of this town and our people are at stake. They're armed. They're angry. Injured, or not, I wouldn't put it past them to wanna seek a bit of vengeance for what you animals did to 'em."

At that, Deacon scoffed as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and rub at the side of his head with his uninjured hand. Slowly he turned back to where the Governor stood with a smirk at his lips and a furrowed brow.

"Animals, huh? You know, I coulda sworn I heard you say 'anythin' goes as long as we kept them on a short leash' when we brought them girls in here the other night." He challenged. The Governor paused for a moment, and then nodded a bit, pursing his lips before looking back up to where Deacon sat.

"You're right, Deacon. I did say 'anything goes'," He continued to nod as he pulled the chair back out for himself slowly, "…But I also to you to put your goddamn toys away when you were done. You were in charge while Merle and I were gone, Deacon…You were supposed to hold down the fort and keep the people that call this place home safe. Those women got out…They killed people for Christ's sakes!"

He ended on a biting, angry note as he sat heavily into the seat. It was plain to see that he was growing weary of arguing with his underling. He locked eyes with Deacon again to force him down, deep and back into submission. After a long, tense moment Deacon seemed to realize that he was going head to head with the man who ran this small stronghold. He slowly averted his eyes down to the floor beneath the table.

The Governor uncoiled visibly once he was sure Deacon's willfulness was back in check. He wiped his clean shaven cheek with his palm and sank back into the well-loved dining room chair. The room fell silent and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife despite the Governor having put his foot down. Merle, long silent, had sat between the two looking on with a tired, annoyed expression the entire time.

Shit like this made him anxious; arguments he wasn't involved in but played audience to. They'd always made him feel uneasy. Like he had no control of the situation. He ran his only hand along his jean clad thigh, wiping off the bit of sweat that was forming in his palm. As he sucked on his teeth, he looked back over to the younger man at his right and then back to the Governor. Their eyes connected for a short second before those that were glaring back at him were ripped away with a disgusted headshake.

"I need this mess dealt with… Cleaned up." The Governor finally said as he looked back to Merle, "I want one of you to go check on Lynne. Her husband just survived this whole mess only to be killed by some lunatics. Let's be thankful Ross didn't have any family left…I want Lynne to know she'll be taken care of."

"Yes sir." Merle replied as he shifted his weight to stand.

"I'm not finished." The Governor snapped as he shifted around slowly to look at Merle. Merle stiffened where he stood, gritting his teeth a bit, but he managed to swallow down his annoyance enough to sit back down into his chair.

"Eli…" the Governor uttered under his breath. The low volume did nothing to prevent the name from reaching his ears. Instantly, the image of the man's undead body—hole the size of a grapefruit from the assault rifle's blast in its chest—chained and lunging in one of the darkened warehouse rooms came to mind. He knew from square one the man was stupid. 'Educated' people always tended to be. Too concerned with thinking things through, weighing out every damn option, making sure everyone else was caught up and on the same page to recognize when their own ass was about to end up in a world of hurt. He sneered at the thought and the feel of the blade attached to his arm sliding from the skull.

"…Do you hear me?!"

The shout pulled Merle back out of his mind and into the room. He shook his head and rubbed at his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I hear you." He lied automatically as he straightened again.

"He already sent 'em over there. Said there's almost nothin' left." Deacon said as he nudged at Merle's capped arm. It was then he realized what the Governor was talking about. Eli had been the one man in town with more than basic first aid experience. All the medical supplies were kept in his care. Unfortunately, over the months of picking up new survivors and caring for their own injuries, the supply stock was beginning to dwindle. Merle nodded and looked back over to the Governor, who was visibly seething.

"Eli was an idiot. I wonder when he was plannin' on lettin' us know we were just 'bout out of the basics… We're better off." Merle nodded to himself.

"Better off?" the Governor glared, "Tell me next time you lose a limb how much 'better off' we are without him!"

Merle looked up and caught the dangerous glare fired in his direction. He nodded, feeling slightly cowed, but his own defiant streak rose up to the surface in that moment. He stood, tired of the lecture and the tension on the room, and nodded again.

"If I end up losing another limb, I hope one'a ya'll will be kind enough to feed me a bullet."

"Weather's 'bout to take a turn," he began, low gravely voice scratching its way out his mouth and around the otherwise silent room,"…What's left in our stock pile'll get us through a couple more bad injuries, maybe. Enough medicine and sutures to get us through the worst of the winter. We been out enough within the last couple weeks. I say we hold tight til winter's done an' over with… Head out in the spring when people start goin' outside, doin' stupid shit again."

The Governor turned towards the grey light that shone through the apartment's window and slowly walked over towards it as he silently considered Merle's proposal. He picked up a picture frame that sat atop the small, antique table.

"All the hospitals in the area have been cleaned out. Where exactly were you planning on searching for medical supplies 'come spring'?" the Governor huffed, setting down the picture as he turned back to the other two men seated at the table.

"I got a place in mind… Probably gunna need a whole heap'a muscle and ammo if we wanna get in, though. Willing to bet my good arm the place is overrun still. But it should be worth it. There'll be more food an' weapons inside than we'll know what to do with." Merle hinted with a bit of a confident smile. The Governor, seemingly unimpressed with his playful attitude pressed further with only a look as he bent forward to rest his palms flat on the opposite side of the table. Merle's smile slowly faded and he rolled his neck before turning back to his still seated cohort.

"Where you said you was locked up before all this, again, Deacon?"