SQUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Wren felt warm and safe and comfortable. She vaguely remembered a night terror starting, but something had chased it away, like smoke on wind and she had had the best sleep she had had in… ohgod, she couldn't remember.

She snuggled down and drew in a big breath and yawned. Then froze. Breathed in deep again. Ohgod! It wasn't a dream? She smushed her face into the hard surface and simply breathed until a rumbling chuckle bumped her nose and caused her to look up. Into blue eyes. Blue eyes she hadn't seen in forever, with the crinkles in the corners and the smirk she knew better than she knew her own face.

Raising her fingers, she ran them all over the face in front of her, exploring every dip and crest until the eyebrows creased and the smirk went away.

"Birdie, why ya cryin ya stupid thin'?" Wren blinked and realised that her face was indeed wet as was the chest underneath her head.

"You real?" She asked, her voice crackly and broken after so long of no use.

"I'mmas real as they get, Sugar Tits." Merle bragged, puffing out his chest and he got what he was aiming for. Wren grinned her tiny half smile and a quiet giggle escaped her lips. She looked around and noticed that they were in Carol's room. She looked at Merle with a confused face. At once,Merle went from bragging joker to furious redneck.

"They ain't been treatin you right, have they birdie?" Wren just blinked at him, her face falling into its passive, I-don't-know'-what-you-mean-and-if-I-do-I-ain't-saying look and Merle swore at her.

"Fuck that Wren. you can't pull that shit with me. Those idiots might fall for it, but you and I know better, don't we."

Wren shrugged and Merle saw the look of loss and being lost and decided to do a bit of digging around before he pressed her further. She was a cracked as a dropped vase and one false move and Merle could see her simply falling apart, never to be fixed. How on earth these so called 'good guys' would do this or let someone else do this…

So it was with some surprise that Wren was the one to drag Merle up and out of Carol's room and into the main areas. She wanted to show him everything, but when they wouldn't open the gate to let her and Merle out to the courtyard, Wren got confused and then pissed.

She stamped her foot and glared at the guard, one of the younger men who had arrived after the Shower incident and had heard the gossipy version of what happened. He visibly swallowed and stepped away from the gate and it's tiny furious demander.

"He ain't allowed out. He's one of those that attacked us." He stammered.

Wren turned to look at Merle curiously, her head cocked, the question clear on her face.

Merle shrugged - not like he could deny it.

"Survival Wren, you do what you gotta." Wren thought about it for a second then shrugged. It was too much, she hadn't done too much deep thinking in a long while and she just wanted out out out.

She glared at the young man and pulled her knife.

"Rick, now," She rasped and the look of complete shock on the boy's face was enough to prove to Merle that they hadn't been lying about her silence.

A few minutes later, both Rick and Daryl arrived and Wren pointed angrily at the locked gate.

"Open. Now." She rasped again and Rick blinked in astonishment.

"You talking now Wren?" He asked with a smile and she just shrugged. "Look Wren, Merle can't just wander about, he's done some things…"

Wren put her fingers in her ears and to everyone's surprise, started chanting

"La la la laaa!"

When she opened her eyes and saw the look of consternation on both Rick and Daryl's face, she laughed. Out loud and both men jolted. Merle wondered just how damaged his Wren had been and was now.

Daryl was talking to Rick and assuring him that he would keep an eye on him like he needed some kinda damn babysitter, but hell, if it got him out of this place, he'd take what he could get.

Finally they were out and headed for the Cook house and Merle could feel his stomach rumbling. He hadn't been able to let go of sleeping Wren - he told himself it was because she would have been woken up - and was dying for some grub. But Wren glanced at the cookhouse then walked straight past and was heading to the fenceline.

"Birdie? You ain't gettin anythin' to eat, baby girl?" Merle called out and watched as Wren twitched as though she just got hit. Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she turned and had that blank look on her face that Merle already hated. Daryl stepped up beside him and looked at the cookhouse then Wren.

After a few moments, Wren sighed and looking like she caved in on herself a tiny bit, came to Merle's side and nudged him and Daryl to the bench. Behind the bench three of the communities women were busy making food and cleaning up and generally being chatty cathy's with each other.

Daryl grabbed one of the plates from the pile and motioned for one of the bits of meat on the grill.

As soon as the women noticed Daryl was there, the fluttering and flirting began and all three women busted a nut trying to serve Daryl. One even went so far as to say that she had been saving him a special bit just for him. Merle's snort of amusement got their attention and suddenly the area got a little cooler. Obviously word spread fast, but as Merle was Daryl's brother - as one woman actually asked, trying to be flirty with Daryl - they were polite if nothing else. Merle handed his plate over and got the same sort of serving, meat, veg and gravy and even a biscuit. Stepping over to the table with Daryl to wait for Wren, Merle glanced back to check on Wren, even as he crammed the gravy soaked bread in his mouth.

Wren was clearly visible as she laid her plate on the bench and Merle swore he heard her sigh. He definitely saw her bite her lip and the beginnings of a flush start on her pale cheeks as her eyes seemed to flick to him then back to the front.

Nothing. Wren knocked her knuckles on the bench to get their attention and one woman looked over, saw Wren and turned back to whisper to the other two ladies. All three laughed and Merle definitely saw Wren's face redden more.

Just as Merle was about to step over, one of the women sighed this massive, oh-god-must-I sigh, snatched up Wren's plate, dumped a spoonful of porridge on it from a deep saucepan at the back of the bench and slid it towards Wren. Without a word, smile or anything, she turned back to the other two women and continued their chatting as they puttered around. Wren looked at the plate and turned away, not even touching it as she strode quickly off around the corner.

Merle, gritted his teeth and glanced at his brother.

"What the fuck was that, man?" Merle's fists were clenching around his fork and plate as he glared at his brother.

Daryl wasn't even there. He had snatched a kid running past, yanked him up and told him to get Rick and be fucking quick about it.

Daryl stepped over to the cookhouse bench and threw his full plate of food at the women, who all squealed and flinched as the hot food splattered everywhere.

"You fuckin dried up old cunts! What makes you any better than anyone else here?" One of the women suddenly realised what had happened and the blood drained from her face and she literally whimpered. Merle watched as his brother went to town on those fuckedup bitches until Rick and several others appeared and forced Daryl back from where he was leaning over the counter, screaming at the cowering women.

Rick finally managed to get Daryl to talk to him.

"Those fuckin bitches in there, they been doin Wren wrong Rick. Dunno how long, but I'mma guessin ages from how she was."

Rick shook his friend by the shoulders.

"Daryl! What happened?"

Merle noticed that the women were sliding out of the cookhouse and waved his finger at them.

"Ah ah ahhhh, don't you fucking go anywhere ladies." He cooed and all three women shuddered.

Daryl fought to bring himself under control and was pacing from side to side.

"They gave Wren the pig slop."

Merle felt his stomach clench. Excuse the fuck me?

Rick turned just in time to see one of the women go to snatch up Wren's plate and got to it first.

The women were stammering, their faces white and bodies shaking.

"It was just a joke, no harm, just a silly joke." One of the ladies tried to brush it off but her voice dried up at Rick's dead eyed look.

"This is a matter for the council to deal with. For now, I think that seeing as you ladies seem to find pig slop funny, you've just found yourselves reassigned to the pighouse. I do believe it's mucking day." Silently, the three women quickly filed out of the cookhouse and disappeared into the prison.

Merle growled.

"This the kinda place you have huh, Officer Friendly? My guess it these 'jokes' have been goin on a fair while." and Merle turned to his brother.

"And you? What you didn't notice this shit? What the fucks wrong with you boy? Don't take half a brain to see she trusted you!" He yelled at Daryl who looked away over the field. Why hadn't he noticed this shit? Because he had gotten too big for his boots, as his old man would have said, right before taking his belt to him.

It didn't take long to find Wren. Rick, Merle and Daryl carried on around the corner she had disappeared to and then there was the sounds of groaning, a squishy thwack and a thud. Thwack, thud. Thwack, thud.

Standing at the corner of the fence, where courtyard met field, Wren stood with a metal bar she had grabbed from somewhere, and was systematically clearing out the gathering walkers. All three men watched silently for a few moments. Wren had a flow and real beauty to what was a horrific task, turning it from a sickening act to almost a dance. Merle watched as more and more walkers drifted up to this isolated part of the prison yard.

"She always like this?" He nudged his brother who nodded.

"She's the best clearer we got." Was the quiet reply.

"What the fucks that mean little brother?"

Rick replied instead.

"The walkers push on the fences, so until we can get the entire fence line protected, groups take turns to go out and clear out the herds before they get too big. Wren's one of the few who don't mind doing it."

Merle crossed his arms.

"And lemme guess, no one ever fights her on her doing their share, do they?"

It was like watching a robot and Merle suddenly got a sense of what life had been like for his Wren.

"How do they know to come here? I don't see no callers or chimes or nothin like that?" With that question, even Rick and Daryl looked around and noticed Merle was right. It had simply always been that way. Wren cleared and walkers bunched near her.

It was Daryl who finally noticed. The walkers all watched and reached for her right arm, the one she used to hold the pole closest to the fence. With a snarl, he stormed over and snatched at her arm. Expecting the reactionary protective swing, he caught the pole, wrenched it from her hands and yanked up her sleeves. Her arms were littered with old and new scars and a fresh one that was slowly dripping blood as they watched. The dead at the fence clawed and groaning in a fresh wave of frenzy and with a snarl of his own, Daryl dragged Wren away, ignoring her struggling until he felt her blade on his arm and he froze. Merle was there in the blink of an eye, sliding the blade from her hand and easing his own hand onto her arm, murmuring to her so softly that Daryl couldn't hear. But after a moment, she looked away and sheathed her knife and suddenly turned back and wrapped her arms around Merle and held on fast.

Hershel didn't say anything or even look disappointed, he merely smiled and patted her and bandaged her up and she felt relief at that. She knew that she was going to hear it from Merle and to be honest, she wasn't upset about it. It meant he cared. To the others, she always felt like a chore, an added weight, but Merle had never made her feel that way, not even when he was yelling at her in frustration when learning to track or fight.

She walked out of Hershel's little office and saw both Dixon brothers - she finally knew their last name after all this time - waiting for her.

But instead of the yelling she expected, by the time she got up to the men, Merle slung his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight.

"Wren, life's been a real bitch here I'm guessin. Good on ya for fightin luv."

Daryl nodded his head, glancing at her through too long hair.

As they walked down to the cell blocks, Merle kept his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.

"Why you never nark of any of them?" He asked casually, Wren shrugged.

"Imma freak, weirdo, everyone hates me enough." Merle noticed that Daryl stared at Wren from the corner of his eye.

"And what's this shit I hear about you not talkin? I never used to be able to shut you up! And you're talking now..."

Wren looked away. After a long while, as they traversed the darker corridors, she pulled Merle close and pressed her face against his body.

"Nothing worth saying with a voice like this."

Suddenly she noticed where they were headed and her eyes leapt to Daryl's, the gut wrenching look of betrayal on her face made Merle snarl and grab her as he felt her muscles tense, ready to bolt. Daryl merely looked confused until he heard the sounds of water and it clicked.

"Holy shit Wren, you ain't been in there since?" Merle was now struggling to hold the wildly flailing woman as she sobbed her fear.

"No no no no" she repeated, her husky voice echoing along the corridor.

With one final desperate twist, one that would be sure to leave a brilliant bruise, Wren was free and in a flash, had disappeared into the darkness.

Merle called after her, but knew he would never catch her now. Instead, he turned to his Brother and grabbed him by the shirt.

"I'm done playing 20 questions Darylina. You are gonna tell me what the fuck is goin on here or imma gonna kick your ass like it's never been kicked before!"