Merle stood outside the cell, listening to Lucy tell Carol about her miscarriage. He could hear the pain and sadness in her voice. He remembered the night at the hospital, when he had found out.

Merle sat down on a chair in the waiting room. His elbows rested on his knees and he put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and sighed. He had never wanted to be a father. He knew how his own was, and he didn't want that. Plus, with his lifestyle, there was no point in bringing an innocent child into it. But if Lucy was going to have a baby, he'd have to change. If it was a boy, his name would be Merle Junior, and he would teach him how to fish, and hunt, and fight. If it was a girl, they'd name her Dharma, after Lucy's mom, and he would teach her how to fish, and hunt, and fight.

He heard the footsteps and looked up to see his brother, "You knew. You knew she was pregnant, and that she was leaving, and you weren't going to tell me."

"Merle, I wanted to, but it was her place to do it."

"You're my brother, my flesh and blood. You should have told me."

"What good would it have done?"

Merle didn't say anything. His lips pressed together and he looked down at his dirty boots. "Do you still have the key to dad's old lockbox?" he finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah."

"The ring still in it?"

Daryl nodded, "Yeah."

Merle remembered the night of the miscarriage. The way Lucy crumpled against him, too weak and scared. He had held her through the night, even in her sleep her body shook with sobs.

Merle reached into his pocket, and he pulled out the ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. It was simple. I white gold band with little diamonds encrusted around it. It had been his mom's, and his grandma's. And he had intended to give it to Lucy, but he never had a chance. After the miscarriage, no time ever seemed appropriate. If she wasn't crying over the baby, he was drunk or stoned.

He sighed and placed the ring back in his pocket. He had carried it with him every day since the night at the hospital. After he had lost Lucy in Atlanta, he had refused to get rid of it. Even though he had never given it to her, it was the only thing that tied him to their past.

He walked away, deciding not to bother Lucy.

Lucy sat outside, keeping watch. Night had fallen, and there was a slight chill to the wind. She shivered a little as the wind blew her hair. She heard the door open and close behind her, but didn't turn. She kept her eyes on the prison yard, her bow and arrow in hand, ready to strike if necessary.

"I was looking for you earlier," Merle said, standing beside her.

She pursed her lips for a moment, "I was with Carol. I was…I was feeding the baby." She glanced up at him; his eyes were on the walkers clinging to the fence.

"I've been thinking a lot lately…" he trailed off for a moment.

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded.

"About what?" she pried.

"What you were saying earlier."

"About?"

"The Governor, and sneaking into Woodbury."

"Well, do you want to?"

"It would be risky."

She nodded and looked up at him, "I know."

"We don't have to tell anybody. We can slip out of here tomorrow. Maybe go hunting with Daryl and sneak away."

She smiled, "It would probably be the easiest way."

He nodded.

She turned her attention away from him.

"I've been thinking about other stuff too."

"Like?"

He shrugged, "The past."

She looked away, bringing her attention back to the walkers. They were moaning and gnashing their teeth, wanting on the other side.

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded, "Remember that time you poisoned me?"

She scratched behind her ear and tried to fight off the smile, "You mean when I cooked chicken fettuccine?" She glanced at him, "I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know, but I was thinking about how you took care of me. How you held my head in my lap and sang to me. No woman, not even my momma, took care of me like you did when I was sick."

She didn't say anything.

"The way I treated you though, I think maybe you should've used arsenic rather than under cooked chicken."

She turned away from him, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. "I thought it was done."

He laughed and shook his head. "You would have made a great mom," he almost whispered.

She shook her head.

"I know it was my fault. If I hadn't of acted like I did, you wouldn't have fallen—"

"Merle, stop. It doesn't matter now, it was for the best."

"Not once have we ever talked about it. You'd sit there crying, but you wouldn't say a word. You know, I lost a child too!"

She tilted her head down, trying to hide the tears that were starting to form.

"Dammit! Lucy, I wasn't trying to make you cry." He reached up and rubbed the side of his chin.

She wiped her eyes and looked up at him. "What if we had of…" she trailed off but he knew what she was asking.

"We would have named him Merle Junior, and I would have taught him how to hunt, and fish, and fight."

"Him?" Lucy asked. "And if it had been a girl?"

"Dixons don't have girls."

"Well, Thornton's don't have boys." Because of her lineage, her mother had kept her maiden name, and her mother before her.

Merle laughed. "We would've named her Dharma."

Lucy looked up at him, her eyebrows knitted together. "After my mother?"

He nodded. "And I would have taught her to hunt, and fish, and fight. Hopefully she would've been as pretty as you though."

Lucy turned her attention back to the prison yard, shocked by his confessions.

Merle stuck his hand in his pocket, his hand closed over the ring.

"We would have been terrible parents."

Merle shook his head, "You would have been great," he told her again. "I can't say the same for myself."

Lucy didn't reply.

He watched her jaw tense.

There was silence for a while. When she finally heard the door close, she looked and he was gone. She spotted the little band on the ledge, glinting in the moonlight. She picked it up, rolling it between her fingers. She slid it onto her left ring finger. It was too big. She slid it back off and slipped it in her pocket.

When Michonne relieved her from guard duty, she walked into Merle's cell and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She reached towards him, her hand in a fist. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her, before extending his arm. She opened her hand, letting the little ring fall. "It's too big," she told him, her voice barely audible.

"That's because you have child hands."

"I do not! It's not my fault I have skinny fingers."

He just stared at the ring, "I was going to propose after I found out you were pregnant. And then it just never seemed like the right time."

"It was for the best," she said.

"You keep saying that." He closed his fingers over it and looked up at her.

She looked away.

He stood and walked to her. His fingertips lightly grazed her cheek. She closed her eyes and he watched the muscles in her neck as she swallowed. He tucked her hair behind her ear, but his hand didn't fall away.

They stood in silence before she finally started to walk away, "Are we still going to Woodbury tomorrow?" he asked.

She nodded.