/Warning: The following chapter depicts rape and/or attempted rape. Read with caution./

MERLE

"Bright" was not a word Merle would normally associate with any of his plans, but this was the only plan he had and he had no other options open to him within his very tight time frame. It was the largest vehicle he figured he would come across, but also small enough that it wouldn't do enough damage to the point that it would go completely through the building he planned to crash it into.

The decision came to him about five minutes after he'd let Andrea leave just like he'd let Milton leave. He was sick of watching people go to their imminent doom while he stayed behind to fend for himself. It finally clicked with him that Andrea and Milton were the two best things to happen to him since the world went to hell because Andrea had managed to salvage the parts of him worth saving and Milton made him consider the many ways in which he was still needed and useful to less-capable people. If his purpose was to be the helping hand, so be it, and if Andrea and Milton could see him as nothing but a cowardly asshole…well, there were worse things in life. This was something, the one thing, he knew he had to do. It wouldn't redeem him for every other horrible thing in life he'd ever done, but if he let this one pass by, he wouldn't be able to live it down.

He had to take a very rough side-road so that he could approach Woodbury from the back and then, when he was within sight of the town, he put a bag full of weights he had found on the gas pedal and kept the wheel on course as the semi sped headlong toward the town. When he was only a few yards out, Merle took his weapons in his hand, kicked open the driver-side door and threw himself out, landing amidst the shoulder-height weeds.

Keeping low, he watched the semi smash into the brick wall and made a considerable and sizeable dent in the apartment building where Wes and Tate used to reside (and if Tate was still in Woodbury, he wasn't going to remain there for much longer). The rear wall guard sounded the alarm, firing at the semi and Merle ran bent-double to a weak spot in one of the fences. Struggling to get a good handhold, he clawed his way over the top of the fence and nearly wiped out face-first on the concrete ground on the other side, but managed to catch himself on his elbow at the last second.

He pressed himself against the thick ivy-strewn wall and waited until the sounds of running footsteps faded before he darted across the alleyway to the lab door. His assault rifle was at waist height as he pushed open the door and proceeded down the dark hall that would take him to one of two side rooms that the Governor used for some of his questionable experiments on biter bodies when Milton wasn't willing to explore that far into the reaches of humanity.

Hoping that the ruckus outside would keep the remaining guards occupied long enough for him to search the lab in its entity for any of Merle's acquaintances, he chose a passage and at the end of the hall, cracked open the door on the right just a smidgen so he could see inside. Someone had been strapped down to the operating table in the center of the room and as Merle pushed the door open further and darted into the room to check behind the door for anyone who might have been hiding there, the person on the table gave a strangled sob.

Of all the horrendous things the Governor could have done, Merle wasn't expecting this. Milton was bound flat to the table with zipties to replace the straps that had broken long ago. His upper body had been stripped bare so that Merle could see the three shallow lacerations across his chest. His wrists were already chafed from where he had been fighting against his bonds in the short time it had been since Merle had last seen him and blood was pouring freely from his nose while a small trickle of it dripped steadily out of the corner of his mouth. On the floor beside him were his glasses, broken at the bridge as if they had been snapped in two. In the chill of the early autumn evening, he had managed to build up a sweat as his bangs stuck to his forehead.

Merle didn't know to what extent Milton was able to see him or even recognize him without the assistance of glasses, but as Merle moved in, Milton tried to violently overturn the table.

"He's hurting her," he said desperately. "In the next room—go!"

Merle hesitated, trying to think of how long it would take him to free Milton and if Andrea had that much time left. Milton, however, made Merle's decision for him by kicking him in the chest when Merle tried to come closer. And as he massaged the spot where Milton's heel had hit him, Merle saw trails of hot, salty tears running through the grime on Milton's face.

"Stop him," Milton pleaded. "Don't let him hurt her anymore."

Merle sliced through the zipties on Milton's left wrist and Milton rolled onto his side, exposing his back so that Merle could see at least six or seven lashes where it looked like someone had beaten him with a belt across his bony shoulder blades.

Grabbing the corner of the table to steady himself, Merle flinched away from an opponent who wasn't there as he was reduced once again to a child under his father's hand. He had tried to run, but his father had cornered him, torn off his shirt, and taken a belt to him until Merle screamed for his mother. He never called for her when his father beat him because she would always cower away, but the beatings had never hurt as much as they did now. He didn't know what else to do but cry for her, ashamed to shed tears to deal with the pain because if he didn't scream, he knew he would die. The pain surged through him with such intensity that he could never wish it upon anyone else except those who had wronged him. And so when he had seen the marks of a beating on weaker victims like Andrea and Erica by Crowley or Janine and Nina by Wade, his role changed from solitary survivor to protector. He acted as a devoted spouse and a defensive parent, like how his parents should have been. He dealt punishment to the abusers and nearly killed Crowley while successfully killing Wade because he couldn't abide by any of it.

To see Milton now with marks nearly identical to the ones Merle had on his own back, Merle harbored such irrevocable rage on Milton's behalf. As pathetic of a human being he was, Milton had still chosen to come back here in a last-ditch attempt to protect Woodbury's people and he had been beaten for it, beaten for being innocent. Never had Merle been able to relate to this man more than he could right now and he hated that it took Milton being in pain, being subjected to a vicious lesson at the Governor's hand, to finally connect with him.

Now, Merle had to see this through to the end and not only kill the Governor for what he had threatened to do to Andrea, but also for the war he had staged out of jealousy and the pain he had inflicted on Milton.

"Merle, please, go to her," said Milton, hugging his waist in shuddering pain.

With calloused, bloody fingers, Merle touched one of the welts on Milton's back, but Milton didn't move at his touch, perhaps because he was in too much pain to feel something so gentle. Even as a grown man, Milton looked so small and frail with the scars on his back like Nina had when Erica forced the girl to show Merle the marks Wade had left on her legs. The same marks Daryl bore, the same ones Merle carried with him since he was six years old, were now painfully fresh on Milton's flawless skin. Merle knew what it was like to feel so utterly helpless as it was being done to him because he had been a child, unable to fight back. Milton was an adult with the innocence of a child and Merle felt responsible for him now that they shared this mark of brutality.

Milton looked back over his shoulder and Merle saw that the blood from his mouth had stained his teeth red as well as smeared across his lips.

"I'm comin' back for you," Merle promised.

He shoved his spare knife into Milton's free hand and darted back out into the corridor, and faced the left door. He kicked it open, leveling his automatic.

Andrea's back was pinned to the Governor's front with the front of her thighs pressed against a wooden table. She had on only a bra and the Governor's pants were undone to the point that Merle could see his boxers pressing against Andrea's backside. From the look on her face and the sweat coating the Governor's, Merle knew he was too late.

"Should I say that this isn't what it looks like?" asked the Governor.

Andrea had tears cascading down her filthy cheeks as the Governor held her upright with one hand both cupping her chin to keep her in place and holding his knife against her mouth and the other hand pointing the handgun at Merle.

"I hadn't finished yet. Y'wanna wait outside?"

Merle had no words, but his finger was on the trigger-

"Now, I wouldn't try anything when we're in this delicate position."

The Governor made a thrust with his hips and Andrea cried out.

She knew. She knew from the moment she decided to go after Milton that this was what lay in store for her, but she kept going anyway, and now she was paying the price for it. Her face was flushed and bruised in the short amount of time it had been since Merle had last seen her, which told him that the Governor worked quickly. But she wasn't broken yet. There was defiance in her, but Merle had to do something before the Governor snatched that last bit away from her.

"I know this makes you burn with jealousy, doesn't it?" asked the Governor. "Another man claiming your woman, feelin' her up, penetratin' her."

"She ain't my property," said Merle. "But she is mine t'protect."

There it was; the look on Andrea's face that displayed what she had been hoping for since their one night together. She realized that Merle would go to world's end for someone else besides Daryl, and though that realization had an astounding resonation with her, it was too little, too late. He'd failed to do what he set out to do.

"Not doin' a very good job, are you? You're not worth shit to anyone, Merle. You wanna be a good person, but time after time, you just fail everyone. Gettin' those people killed at the prison, sendin' your brother off t'slaughter, lettin' me get my hands on Andrea here. And I heard you comin'; I know you've seen Milton and I know that rattled you. His back looks familiar, doesn't it?"

Merle had to wonder for a moment how the Governor knew what his back looked like, but then he remembered that he had been practically stripped naked upon entrance to Woodbury after he'd been found dying of dehydration. As Dr. Stephens patched him up, the Governor would have seen the stretched scars which were a product of his father's brutality.

"You should've left Milton outta your plans and just let me do things my way from the start," the Governor continued. "He mighta come outta this alive if you had."

"Merle, go…" said Andrea. "Milton—"

The Governor nicked her throat with his knife and she fell silent.

Merle sensed his breaking point coming as his heart beat in his throat and hot liquid longed to squeeze out of his eyes. It was killing him inside that he couldn't help her. He thought that the Governor would stop as soon as Merle entered the room and that he could at least spare Andrea any more pain, but here he was in a standoff with the Governor still in the act and with a knife to Andrea's face so that if either she or Merle tried something, the other would die.

He knew his eyes were brimming and he tried to blink away his emotion, but the Governor caught sight of it and smiled.

"Well, I'll be damned. You actually surprised me, Merle. I thought I'd seen everything I could expect from you. 'Course, I shouldda seen it when you near killed Crowley because he felt her up, but then I thought she'd just been a one-night stand for you when she left and you stayed. But no, she actually got t'you, didn't she? Gotcha feelin' somethin' more than just a need to fuck her raw. Dare I say it, love? Is that somethin' you know how to do, how to feel? It's gotta be, otherwise you wouldn't have just nearly broke the door down t'get in here when y'heard her screamin'. And I gotta tell you, she's more than a good fighter; she feels good too."

Merle cocked his pistol. "I fuckin' swear t'God, I'll put two in your balls and four in your head. Get the fuck off've her."

The Governor made Andrea lie down and then he slowly slid out of her, keeping his pistol on Merle.

"Y'know what I did to Milton when I found out he'd betrayed me? I started openin' him up. Cut by cut, piece by piece, I'mma rip into his flesh so that he'll feel every second of it. You haven't seen half of what I plan t'do t'him. That is, if you don't get t'him first. You can't save 'em both, and it's only a matter of time before someone else comes in here after your colorful entrance. Either you have this standoff with me, or you go and try t'save Milton's worthless ass."

"Merle," Andrea whispered, "please…"

Please, what? Help her? Help Milton? Kill her and go to Milton? Kill the Governor like Merle should have done from the fucking start instead of dicking around for his own intents and purposes?

"If one've 'em could go free, who d'you think she'd chose?" asked the Governor, stroking Andrea's hair.

"Don't let him hurt Milton anymore, Merle," said Andrea.

"There's your answer, Merle. She'd prefer to stay here and let me have my way with her than t'suffer any more've Milton's screams 'cause I've been takin' turns with them so that they'll hear each other and know what's comin'. They wanted t'plot behind my back; they've suffered together for it."

The Governor shoved Andrea's head down onto the table in front of him and she yelped. Next door, Milton called out to her in a wretched, abused voice.

"Andrea!"

"Go," Andrea begged Merle. "Before he calls for help, go get Milton—"

A giant crash came from the room next door and the Governor turned toward the metallic wall, distracted. Merle rushed him, hurtling himself against the Governor's broad chest and knocking Andrea out of the way. As the two of them flew into a table full of equipment, the resulting collision caused an even greater din than the one that had just come from the neighboring room.

Merle used his blade to stab the Governor in the thigh and the Governor grabbed a handful of Merle's hair, pulling hard to make Merle remove the blade. Eyes watering, Merle tried to draw back, when a boot came out of nowhere and collided with the Governor's face. Coming onto his feet in a wobbly dance, Merle saw Milton standing there with his undershirt staining red beneath his coat that he had thrown over himself to hide his wounds. Behind him, Andrea was struggling to put her clothes back on.

"Go help her," Milton told Merle. "I'll deal with this."

"Someone'll be comin' t'investigate them crashes," said Merle. "We gotta git goin', Milton, let's go."

Andrea did up the button on her pants and slipped her own coat on without bothering to put on her shirt first. She took the Governor's pistol from the floor, avoiding Merle's eye as she pointed to the door.

Milton, however, was still standing in front of the Governor as he held his pistol in firing position.

"Milton, we gotta bail out now, son, lessgo!"

Milton's hand was shaking so badly that every second, the gun was pointed in a completely different direction.

"Milton, now!" said Merle and Andrea together.

Merle had turned away, pulling at Milton's sleeve just as he heard the shot go off. Arching in such a way that the wounds along his back wouldn't rub against his torn flesh, Milton took Andrea's good arm as Merle put his hand around her waist and the two of them escorted her down the hall to the back exit to the lab. Merle checked that the coast was clear and then led them out to the fence, prying at the metal sheets to create an opening for them to squeeze through. His stint with the semi still had the townspeople occupied, but for how much longer, Merle didn't know or want to gamble on.

Finally, he managed to clear a section that was just big enough for him and more than spacious enough for Andrea and Milton to slip through. Milton went out first to guard Merle's back while Merle pulled Andrea as gently as he could into the open. The trees were a long way off and the nearest cover was the car graveyard, but that put them in view of the front gate and if they took the long way around, some other wall guard was bound to spot them. Their dilemma was solved when a rhythmic metal clanging sounded off behind them. Then, someone shouted on the wall and gunfire churned up dust at their feet.

"Shit, there it goes," said Milton. "Someone must have found Phillip and raised the alarm. Keep going!"

"What do you mean, 'keep going'?" asked Andrea, but Milton had shoved her and Merle ahead toward the cars and turned back around to fire at the shooters on the wall. He managed to keep up this brave-but-dumb heroic act for all of four seconds before his left side jerked back with the impact of a bullet hitting him and he fell over into the weeds. Merle placed Andrea behind one of the cars, ordered her to stay put, and crawled back to where he had seen Milton go down. Concealed by the wall of weeds, he was able to creep forward without attracting gunfire, but he didn't dare raise his head higher than it was as he called out to Milton.

At last, he found Milton as he nearly flattened the other man underneath him, for Milton lay right in his path. The bullet had gone completely through Milton's shoulder in a clean flesh wound very similar to the one Merle had left on Andrea, but the pain was enough to lay him flat on his back with his eyes wide open in shock. Merle tried to pull him into a sitting position, but Milton fought him off with his hands flailing.

"No, get away. Leave me and get her out of here—"

"Giddup! I can't do this on my own, now getcher ass up an' help me!"

"You have to do it yourself," said Milton, crying out as Merle made him sit up straight. He grabbed a fistful of Merle's overshirt and pulled him in closer to rasp out a few blood-choked words. "I was never going to make it, Merle; get her out now while you can."

Merle almost couldn't look Milton in the eye as the latter nodded in resignation and licked blood from his lips. The understanding complexion he gave Merle was the single most selfless thing Merle had ever seen from a human being, and it destroyed any delusions Merle had about getting Milton out of Woodbury alive.

It's okay, Milton mouthed, concealing his face behind Merle's shoulder so that Andrea couldn't see, if she happened to be looking around the car.

"Ready?" asked Merle.

"Help me up."

Merle pulled on the front of Milton's jacket and Milton held onto Merle's forearm with both hands as Merle hauled him to his feet. Merle then placed the pistol in Milton's hands.

"Go," said Milton, checking his clip and turning back around to face the opening gate.

"Milton, no—" begged Andrea, but Milton wouldn't look at her as Merle ran back to her, put his arm around her waist, and dragged her away.