AN: Hi everyone, here's a little update for you. This is a Merle/Michonne chapter, so sorry, no Daryl/Carol here…but the story needs more than just the two of them in it…at least it does if you know anything about my stories.

For everyone who is celebrating tomorrow, Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Merle was pretty damn happy that he'd found a shit ton of liquor in the storage room of the prison that no one else seemed to even be paying attention to…and at the moment, he wasn't exactly turning down any happiness that he could find, no matter how small.

At least having sucked down a good deal of a bottle this morning in lieu of breakfast had relit his feelings from the bottle that had put him out the night before and had made the first part of this day, at least in some ways, a little bit easier.

At Rick's bidding he'd done the dirty deed the other fucker was too chicken shit to do himself. He'd lured Michonne into the tombs…a little sorry for it since he'd asked the bitch for a truce of sorts if they were going to be living together and now here was doing this shit…and then he'd knocked her ass out, tying her up good with a phone cord and barely getting her ass out to the car he'd chosen to take with him without anyone else knowing that he was leaving. He figured the watch people might notice him leaving…if they were doing their job…but they weren't likely to see more than the car…and it would take Daryl long enough to put two and two together that the boy would stay out of the way for the time that Merle needed to make the drop.

Rick knew, though…Rick was well aware that Merle was sneaking out the prison that morning with a woman tied up like fucking contraband in a car. Rick knew that he was making a break for it before everyone else started to stir so that they'd hopefully never notice him driving right out of the prison without explanation.

What Rick didn't know, though, was that Merle was having second thoughts…or third thoughts…or maybe even fucking fourth thoughts if he could have counted through the saturation of alcohol seeping in his system.

Merle knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the fucking Governor wasn't going to leave their asses alone. He'd been out on the man's assassination teams before. He'd gone out to take out entire groups that the Governor didn't know anything about except their supposed whereabouts and the fact that they might have something he wanted. If he wouldn't let those poor assholes live…people he had not a single damn bone to pick with…then he sure as shit wasn't going to walk away and leave the little group standing.

And Merle knew what the hell he'd do to Michonne. Or at least, he could somewhat imagine, though it was disturbing, even to him, to imagine it.

Thinking of it made him wish he'd tucked the damn bottle in the waistband of his pants. At least then he could suck on it a little more and get the shit out of his head.

Merle was an asshole, and he'd never denied that fact one time in his life, but even he thought what the Governor was likely to do to the unconscious woman in the seat next to him was probably inhumane and ungodly even.

When Michonne started to stir, Merle knew she was going to probably freak out and he anticipated a reaction by pulling the car over to the side of the road and dropping it in park. She was tied up, yes, but that didn't mean that her ass wasn't likely to lose it.

And when Michonne did start to gain consciousness, she did start to fight, tied up as she was, and Merle nearly had to sit on top of her to stop her from trying to kick him and squirm loose in the tight confines of the car.

"Calm ya fuckin' ass down," Merle growled at the woman. She was stronger than he'd anticipated, but she wasn't strong enough to get the best of him, especially not without use of her arms. "Ya might as well stop fuckin' fightin' 'cause ya ain't gettin' outta the damn car."

After a moment more of silent struggle, Michonne seemed to accept her fate and stopped fighting against Merle. He slid himself back into the driver's seat and glanced over at her, leaning against the window, panting, her eyes fixed on him like any animal that found themselves in a trap with a hunter nearby.

And Merle didn't drop the car into drive immediately. He sat there, watching her watching him…his mind a swirl of unsober thoughts of what he should do…what would be the right thing to do…and if he was a man who wanted to try to do the fucking right thing after so many wrong damn turns.

"What the hell are you doing?" Michonne finally spat, her breathing not as ragged from the fighting as it had been.

Merle cleared his throat and broke the eye contact between them, reaching down to throw the car into gear. He glanced at the gas tank, well aware that the car wouldn't make it to Woodbury…along the way he was going to have detour and siphon some gas if they weren't going to go prancing up there asking to be shot for trespassing on the Governor's precious personal property.

"You an' me gonna take a lil' trip," Merle said.

Michonne shifted around in her seat as the car lurched forward until she was sitting more like a real person typically sits in a seat and less like the slumped sack of potatoes she'd appeared to be when he'd put her in there.

"What?" She asked. "Where the fuck are you taking me?"

Merle chuckled to himself.

"Startin' ta realize they ain't no one gon' come after ya, ain't'cha princess?" Merle said. He chuckled again. "Hell…I'm just the angel a' death…weren't even my idea. Was Rick, see…made a damn deal with the Governor."

"What are you talking about?" Michonne asked.

Merle sucked his teeth. He eyed the gas in the car and chose to take a road that detoured off the one they were on, hoping to find gas somewhere that could handle both the double back and the rest of the trip to Woodbury. He wasn't feeling up to trying to find the place based entirely on his semi intoxicated sense of direction.

"Governor…" Merle growled. "Wants ya…so Rick, he asked me ta make a lil' delivery."

Merle could hear the woman's breathing quicken. She was slowly realizing what he already knew. She was realizing that she was on her way to a fate that was probably going to be way worse than death.

And Merle felt the nagging again that had plagued him all the day before and throughout the night. The voices that he'd tried to drink down but somehow they'd managed to keep talking to him right on through the whiskey haze.

He didn't have to do this…

It wasn't going to work any damn way…

The Governor was still coming for the prison…he wasn't going to stop.

And really only Rick believed he might. And for that he was willing…to what? To take a chance? To turn her over for the shot that maybe…just maybe…when the Governor was done making her wish she'd never been born he'd be too damn tired to come and get some more.

But blood thirst was a thirst that was never really quenched. Like chugging down alcohol, it only made you want more.

"You don't have to do this…" Michonne offered. "You could take me back…we could go back."

Merle chuckled again.

"Ain't no goin' back…only one direction ta go in, an' that's straight ahead…after we find some fuckin' gas, though, or ya gon' be walkin' inta Woodbury," Merle said.

But he knew what she meant.

"He's still going to kill you, you know?" Michonne said. "He's still going to kill you for leaving. Nobody's safe as long as he's alive."

And Merle did know that. He knew it was the truth even if he was the only one, besides the woman tied up next to him in the car, that knew that shit.

"Says he'll leave the group alone," Merle said, feeling out his riding companion. "Ain't gon' attack the prison, long as I drop ya off all nice an' pretty…like a Christmas present from fuckin' Santy Clause."

Up ahead Merle saw a cluster of cars where some people had, once upon a time, obviously lost their shit and rammed each other like it was some kind of demolition derby. If they hadn't been drained already then the mess of them ought to give him enough to get where he was going.

"You don't believe that," Michonne said. "No more than I do. He'll kill everyone."

"Either way," Merle said. "Reckon you'll be dead…ya won't even have ta know what happened…"

Michonne chuckled this time.

"Yeah…by then I'll be dead," she said. "At least I won't go to my grave with a conscience like yours…"

Merle pulled the car to a stop near the ones that he had already eyed and got out, opening the back door to the rickety piece of shit that someone had likely dragged into the prison from one run or another. He hoped to hell there was a hose of some sort back there and he chuckled to himself when he found one tucked between the seats with one of the stupid ass plastic gas cans that you could buy for a buck from a convenience store before the world had gone to hell.

He pulled it out and cast a quick glance in the direction of Michonne who was watching him through the gaps in the seat.

"You don't have to do this…" she repeated.

Merle stood up and slammed the door shut. While he worked draining the tanks of the cars one by one into the cheap ass plastic gas can and then filling the tank of the car that he'd stolen for his road trip, he thought about what she'd said.

And he thought about every shitty thing he'd ever done so far in his life.

He hadn't lied to her. There wasn't any going back. There wasn't any going back to the prison without dropping her off with the Governor. Rick would load her ass back up and take her there…or he'd find a way to wrestle Daryl into it, using that little Mouse of his for leverage.

And Merle wasn't having blood on his brother's hands as long as he could keep him from it. There had been a lot of shit in his brother's life he hadn't stopped from happening…but this was something he could keep Daryl from having to do. What did it matter if he had one more strike on his soul when it was already blacker than coal dust and doomed to a Hell he wasn't even sure he believed in anymore?

There wasn't any going back anywhere, though. You didn't get to go backwards. They were fucking humans, and their clocks were stuck on running in one damn direction…forward.

Still, Merle didn't think that this was going to solve a single damn thing. Truth was, if he served this woman up on a platter, she was right…the Governor was still coming for him and every damn person at that prison. They weren't going to be safe just because she lost her head for whatever she'd done to become such a prized possession for the crazy ass fucker.

There was only one damn way the Governor wasn't going kill every last one of them…and it wasn't going to be dropping Michonne off to meet her maker.

Merle got back in the car, satisfied the tank was as full as it was going to get, and cranked it, sitting there for a moment while the vehicle idled.

He swallowed, thinking over one last time what he was about to do. Then he leaned over and quickly slipped the end of his bayonet through the cords that bound Michonne's wrists with a movement that seemed to surprise her and left her sitting there, holding them out as though they were still bound, not believing her own freedom.

And Merle chuckled again.

"I'm goin' ta kill the fucker…" Merle said. He shrugged a little. "He ain't gon' stop…not 'til he's killed ever' last one of 'em. Rick ain't got the balls ta do it an' he ain't got the damn balls ta let it be done…he's only got the fuckin' balls ta let me haul ya ass on in there…an' I ain't his fuckin' henchman."

Michonne sat there, still frozen, her hands out in front of her, but she turned her head just a little to face him.

"And if the Governor kills you first?" She asked.

Merle chuckled again, wishing he hadn't been stupid enough to leave his bottle of whiskey back at the prison. It would make a good last meal, he thought. A little liquid courage to see him through.

This could very well be the last fucking thing he did on this Earth, and he knew…the irony not escaping him…that it could very well be the only decent thing he ever did.

And he wasn't doing this shit for a single other living soul except his brother. He had seen something in his brother…some spark of happiness, despite all the worry of the passing time and the Governor…that he'd never seen before. And whether he bought him another damn day of it or another fifty damn years…he figured he could give him whatever the hell he could. Maybe it would make up, some damn way or another, for all the shit he never saved him from when he was younger.

Merle swallowed.

"Ya can get the hell out now," he said to the woman. "Go…get'cha ass back ta the prison. I got shit ta do."

Michonne didn't move from her position. She held strong.

"Get the fuck out!" Merle yelled at her.

She jumped a little at his voice but she made no move to leave the car.

"If you're going to Woodbury," Michonne said, "and you're going to kill him, then I'm going too."

Merle chuckled.

"Don't want'cha fuckin' blood on my hands, alright?" Merle said. "Get'cha ass out, Midnight."

Michonne laughed, gritting her teeth at him.

"Ohhh…that's not going to work either," Michonne said. "I'm not doing this for your sorry ass, don't get me wrong. I'm doing it because I want to go…and whether you put me out here or you drive on with me…I'm going to Woodbury."

Merle turned and narrowed his eyes at the woman.

"Said I ain't takin' ya with me," Merle said. "Ain't got time ta be tryin' ta save ya ass."

Michonne smiled.

"Give me back my sword, and I'll save yours," she said.

Merle narrowed his eyes again, but didn't say anything.

The woman wasn't going to get out of the car without a fight, and that much was evident. He knew she was a formidable adversary. For a woman she was one hell of a fighter too, and he couldn't deny that.

"Don't know what the hell's gonna happen," Merle said.

Michonne swallowed audibly and nodded her head before responding.

"You're going to drive this car to Woodbury…" she said. "Outside of it…not up to the gate. We're going over the wall…out of sight. We kill the Governor. You can go then if you want…"

Merle chuckled. She had thought this shit out, even if she hadn't known her head was supposed to be on a silver platter this morning.

"An' ya stayin' behind, princess?" Merle asked, curious to know what the woman had going on in that head of hers now.

"I've got to get someone…but I don't need your help," Michonne said.

Merle sucked his teeth.

"Goin' back for ya lil' girlfriend?" Merle asked.

Michonne didn't respond, but the way that she shifted in her seat told him that he was right.

"Ya think ya can forgive Andrea for ridin' the Governor's cock all this damn time?" Merle asked.

Michonne shifted again.

"If we can both forgive Rick for this…and we can kill the Governor…then I can handle my shit with Andrea. Don't you worry about it," Michonne said.

Merle cleared his throat and nodded, grunting to himself as he realized that this woman must really have feelings for the blonde.

"Fine…" he growled. "We get'cha fuckin' lil' pussy girlfriend an' then we get the hell outta Dodge…'fore anyone knows we was fuckin' there."

Michonne turned her head toward him and after a second she chuckled.

"And then what? We ride off into the sunset like Bonnie and Clyde?" Michonne asked.

Merle chuckled.

"Last damn chance ta get'cha ass out," Merle said, dropping the car into drive but keeping his foot firmly planted on the brake.

Michonne echoed his chuckle.

"Then I'd say let's go, Clyde…" Michonne said.

Merle grunted and turned the car around to head back to the main road that would lead them right on into Woodbury…for better or worse.