Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead…
Author's Note: So I had several requests to do something with the "real" season 3 deleted scene with Carol and Merle, which I had never seen before. (If you want to see it, go to YouTube and search for "Carol and Merle deleted scene." It's about a minute and forty seconds long) I haven't watched TWD on DVD, only Netflix and TV, so ironically enough I wrote 47 chapters of fake deleted scenes for this show and had never watched any of the "real" deleted scenes! Somehow it never even occurred to me. So I'm giving it a shot and playing with that minute and a half-ish long scene, weaving it into the middle section of this chapter, and just kinda guessing where it would have fit in in the timeline – I'm the first to admit that I may have it in the wrong place, but it's all for fun, right? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.
Season 3, after episode 13
The Prison, Day
Merle was irritable, and had been since he'd woken up that morning. If he was being honest, it was probably fair to say that he'd been irritable since he'd arrived at the prison with Daryl. He didn't like these people that Daryl had become so friendly with, these people that he'd wanted so desperately to be with that he'd chosen them over him back in the woods. Merle was still harboring a lot of ill will towards the assholes who'd somehow changed his brother while Merle himself had been "MIA" for a few months, only discovering him again by chance.
Okay, so Merle had been the one who hadn't made it back for Daryl back at the quarry… he didn't like to think of it as deserting him, exactly… Merle hadn't expected Daryl to go off on his own all that time or anything. He must have known that he'd fall in with someone… Still, they were brothers, and that was supposed to mean something. These dumbasses? They were just that, and now his brother was acting like one as well, after being with them for only a few months. And that was really pissing Merle off. Where was the loyalty? Be that as it may, Daryl had made it clear where he wanted to be, and that Merle could take it or leave it. The more he thought about it, the more he hated these people who'd somehow taken his brother away from him.
There was a clanging noise nearby, and he turned to see a young blonde at the doorway of the caged in area he was currently occupying. She looked at him nervously, as if she was trying to pretend she wasn't more than a little bit afraid of him. He noticed that she was clutching a worn out paperback book in one hand. She walked forward slowly, keeping her eyes on him as if she expected him to spring at her without warning the moment she looked away. Someone had clearly told her something about him, probably that he was dangerous, that he was a monster. It was probably that stupid bitch he'd taken to the Governor. He realized that he was scowling at the girl without trying to, but didn't bother to change his expression. He nodded at her, but just kept staring. She was young, probably too young… but kinda hot.
Beth knew that Maggie and her father would kill her if they knew she was there, but as afraid of Merle as she was, she wanted to at least try to be civil to him. From watching the rest of the group since he and Daryl had arrived, it seemed like she and Carol might be the only ones who would even make the attempt. Beth, like Carol, always tried her hardest to be polite and kind. It wasn't about how the other person behaved, whether or not they deserved it, it was just the right thing to do. It was how just in her nature to be kind, even as the world fell apart.
She managed to look him in the eye, though it wasn't easy the way he was staring at her. The look on his face was making her uncomfortable, and she wished she was already finished with her errand and back in the cellblock. "I thought you might be bored," she choked out nervously, and held the book out to him. He looked at the book in her hand. It was some stupid mystery and the title didn't sound remotely interesting to him. She felt herself hold her breath while she waited for him to take it, unsure of what he would do.
Merle paused, as if inspecting the book, watching the girl in front of him. Finally he took it, nodding at her once, as he had when she'd approached him in the first place. Beth recognized the nod. She'd seen Daryl do it many times, both as a hello and a goodbye. He kept his eyes fixed on her but said nothing.
She tried to smile, since it was the polite thing to do, but only managed a half of a smile before turning and retreating from the cage. She moved as quickly as she could without looking like she was running, wanting to be away from this man who'd been described to her as "a monster" by her sister and Glenn. Realizing that he was being rude even for him, Merle grunted what was supposed to sound like "Thank you" to the back of the fleeing girl, unsure if she even heard it.
He watched her go, then, when she was out of earshot, threw the book across the cell, satisfied with the clang it made when it hit the metal on the opposite side and then the thud it made as it hit the floor after that. He hadn't read a book since the last time he was forced to go to school, more years ago than he wanted to admit, and he sure as hell wasn't gonna start now.
As if out of nowhere, Daryl appeared in the doorway. "What was that about?" he asked his brother, walking slowly into the enclosure.
"Wasn't nothin', Merle replied, amused that Daryl seemed bothered by the short conversation he'd had with the girl, whose name he didn't even remember. He'd been calling her Blondie in his head since they'd arrived at the prison. Basically any chick with blonde hair was Blondie, as far as he was concerned.
"What was Beth doin' in here?" Daryl looked at him suspiciously, sitting down in the chair.
"That's her name?" Merle looked surprised, as though he'd imagined her name to be something else. "Came to give me a book," Merle replied, spitting out the last word as if it tasted bad. Daryl rolled his eyes, knowing all too well how Merle felt about reading.
"She was tryin to be nice to ya, which is a wonder what with the shit you pulled with her sister,"Daryl told him impatiently. He immediately felt the need to be protective of Beth, who wouldn't hurt a fly.
"Who the fuck's her sister?" Merle asked, now annoyed that they were still talking about the exchange brought on by a book, of all things.
"Her older sister's Maggie. Ya know, the one ya dragged in front of that psycho, the Governor? Ya best not let Maggie see ya talkin' to her little sister," Daryl advised him. "What'd ya say to her, anyway?" he asked.
"Nothin. She gave me that damn book and all's that came outta my mouth was "thank you," right before she got through that doorway as she ran outta here. I ain't said nothin' to her. Ain't did more'n look at her."
Daryl raised an eyebrow at his brother. He knew what kind of look Merle had most likely given Beth, and he didn't like the idea. By now she was like a little sister to him. "Probably better if ya keep it that way, least for now," Daryl advised him. Merle groaned inwardly. He wasn't sure how much more of this place, and these people, he could take. They were all just so goddamned annoying, his brother included.
"And she's only seventeen, by the way," Daryl added, giving Merle another reason to stay away from the girl besides what he'd already done to piss off every member of her family that was still alive.
Merle rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Told ya, I ain't done nothin'."
Daryl stood up to go, giving his brother a stern look. "I'm goin on watch. For fuck's sake, stay outta trouble for a few hours, will ya? Maybe even be civil to these folks?" Merle could see how much Daryl wanted him to play nice, and he didn't consciously want to upset his brother… it was just that they pissed him off so badly, and he'd never been one to hold back anything. Why should he? Especially now, with the world gone to shit. What was left to lose?
"No promises," Merle mumbled. If these assholes can leave me in peace, maybe… he thought. He slouched lower on the bed, content to do absolutely nothing for the moment. After all, what the hell was he gonna do?
…
Merle was laying on the bed in what felt more and more distinctly like a cage to him, one arm behind his head. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular. In fact, he was trying not to think about much, if possible, as if all of this was a bad dream that would disappear if he just concentrated hard enough on ignoring it all. He looked over at the slight noise of approaching footsteps, wondering who would be brave enough to approach him. He was surprised to see Mouse, er, Carol approaching with a tray.
"I brought you some food," she said, holding a tray out to him. He remembered Daryl's pleas about playing nice and decided to make an effort, maybe just this once. He reached out and took it.
"Thank you." There, that wasn't so hard, was it? he asked himself. Never mind that it nothing on it looked particularly appetizing.
"I figured, you're part of our family now…" She trailed off, and he motioned for her to sit down on a chair against the "wall," which was actually just a thick wire mesh. He sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.
"It's not much, but given what we're had, it's a lot," she told him apologetically. She gave him a small smile, then looked away as if she were thinking. She was clearly in the mood to talk, though he wasn't sure why. But it wasn't as though he had anywhere else to be. "I should've been dead several times over," she began suddenly.
"Ain't that the truth for us all," he replied seriously, and she looked back at him for a moment before looking down at the floor.
"I think part of the reason I'm not is, because people underestimate me." She looked up at him suddenly before continuing, her expression serious. "Don't underestimate me." It was definitely a warning.
His face reflected the confusion he felt all of a sudden. What the fuck is she talking about? he wondered. He managed to put his question into more polite words. "Excuse me?" he asked.
She looked at him intently. The look on her face told him that she was not afraid of him, as she had appeared to be – not just of him, but of basically everyone, including her own shadow – back at the quarry outside Atlanta. He'd also noticed since his arrival that that husband of hers wasn't around anymore, and imagined that might have had something to do with it.
"I've seen you making the rounds. Trying to play nice," she continued evenly. Footsteps echoed ever so softly in the distance as Daryl came down the steps not too far behind her, outside the "cage" they were sitting in. "If you screw this up, mess with Daryl… I will slit your throat while you sleep." Her voice was soft so that it didn't carry outside of the immediate area, and just as calm as it had been when she had been talking about how their meager food supply was a lot compared to what they'd had, or how she should have already been dead several times over.
Where the hell did that come from? he thought. He glanced over Carol's shoulder for a split second and saw that Daryl had stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed, watching them. As surprised as he felt, he didn't allow it to show in his face as his eyes flicked back to hers.
He stared at her for a few more seconds before scoffing ever so slightly and smiling at her for a few seconds. His face returned to a neutral expression, but his eyes remained focused on her face. She held his gaze for a few seconds more before getting up. "Enjoy your food," she said pleasantly enough, with no trace whatsoever that she had just threatened to kill him in his sleep.
Well I'll be damned, he thought, more amused and surprised than anything else. She ain't no mouse no more.
…
Carol walked calmly out of the enclosure and headed around the corner toward the kitchen area. Daryl caught up with her only a minute later, in the large common room.
"What was that about?" he asked with concern. "Merle behave himself?" He knew what an asshole his brother could be, and he didn't like the thought of him talking to Carol. He trusted Merle as far as he could throw him, no matter that they were brothers.
Carol waved her hand to signal that it had been nothing. "He was fine," she replied easily. "I brought him a tray of food since he doesn't eat with the group."
Daryl smiled slightly and shook his head. Everyone else wanted to kick Merle out of the prison and leave him for dead – and he could understand why a lot of them felt that way about his brother – and here Carol was bringing him food. The woman really was too much sometimes.
"Ya sure he behaved himself?" Daryl asked skeptically.
Carol just nodded her head, unsure of whether she should admit what she'd said to him. She still couldn't quite believe it herself, and it made her smile unconsciously.
"What ya smilin' 'bout?" Daryl asked, now genuinely confused. They were talking about Merle – Merle – and she was smiling? Something didn't add up.
Carol bit her lip sheepishly. "Well… I may have just told him that if he screwed things up around here, or messed with you, I'd slit his throat while he slept."
Daryl tried to react, but he couldn't get any words to come out. His mouth just hung open as he stared at her, as she stood there before him smiling sweetly. She just said what?
"I wouldn't really do it, though…" she continued, seeing the look on his face. "Well, probably not…" she added upon further reflection. Am I making this worse? she wondered fleetingly. She decided that maybe she should stop talking now and wait for him to say something. She bit her lip, unsure of how he'd react. She knew the two brothers didn't get along, but they were still brothers, after all. Had she gone over the line?
A grin slowly spread across Daryl's face as he considered just how far she had come since he'd met her. He shook his head, and she looked at him with a puzzled expression. He raised his eyebrows at her and said, "Ya sure are full of surprises." She relaxed then, relieved. "Guess maybe you can hold your own with Merle, huh?"
She grinned at him, obviously proud of herself. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" she replied, completely amused by the look on his face.
With that, they walked the rest of the way to the kitchen together. Merle had been right about one thing: the nickname Mouse sure didn't fit her anymore.
