Thank you all for reading, reviewing and favoriting! I am so happy others are enjoying a Merle/OC story.

I had a couple people ask if I was going to hook Daryl up with someone, I won't be adding a love interest for Daryl as of now. I really wanted to focus on a Merle-cetric story so am only developing his character further.

I don't own the walking dead, its characters or storylines. This story will contain quotes form the show, I don't own any dialog written by the twd writers.

Again thanks for your support!

ENJOY!

Sam woke up as the sun shined through the thin curtains in the living room. She glanced over at Rick who was still sleeping on the sofa in front of the door. Her eyes scanned the room not seeing any sign of Carl. Sitting up she called out, "Carl?"

The house was silent except for Rick's rattily breath. Sam coughed into her elbow, the congestion still settled in her lungs but not nearly as bad. She strapped on her machete belt and put her handgun in her waistband. Standing up she stretched with a groan and rolled her shoulders to rid her body of its aches.

Two gunshots brought Sam's head up and kicked started her heart. She ran to the front window her eyes searching out the source of the gunfire. A third gunshot went off and then silence. Moments later Carl strolled up the path looking confident and calm. Sam narrowed her eyes and met him at the back door.

"What the fuck Carl?" She hissed, "What were you doing out there?"

"I killed three walkers. They were at the door. They were gonna get in, but I lured them away." He announced brushing past her. Sam followed closely and grabbed his shoulder, "Carl you can't just leave like that. You should've woken me."

"I can take care of myself. You said I can make my own damn decisions." Carl repeated her words from the night before.

"Yeah decisions but going off without telling your group is stupid. Not to mention you left me and your dad asleep with no protection." She explained hoping he would see how wandering off wasn't safe for any of them.

"I was protecting you! I killed them. I saved you." He shouted his hand pointing at Rick angrily, "You're just like him! I didn't forget while he had us playing farmer. I still know how to survive."

Sam crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the door frame . She realized Carl needed to vent. He was still a teenager after all and despite his age he'd been through more than most adults of the old world. Carl was pissed and nothing Sam said was going to cool him off so she let him rant. The kid needed to let off some steam before he exploded.

"I don't need him or you anymore. I don't need you guys to protect me anymore. I can take care of myself." He growled pacing angrily in the living room. He rested his hands on his hips looking very much like an angry version of his dad.

"He probably can't even protect me anyways. He couldn't protect Judith. He couldn't protect," he sighed loudly and wiped his eyes roughly, "Hershel or Glenn or Maggie. Michonne, Daryl, or Mom." Carl looked at her his eyes red and tight.

"All he wanted was to plant vegetables. He just wanted to hide. Governor knew where we were and he didn't care! He just hid behind those fences and waited for …" shaking his head he muttered, "They're all gone now."

Sam moved forward putting a hand on his shoulder, "Carl.."

The teen shook her hand off and pointed at his father, shouting in his face, "Because of you! They counted on you! You were their leader! But now you're nothing."

Carl backed away picking up the canvas bag of supplies and dumped it on the floor. Placing the straps on his shoulder he looked over at Sam and said, "I'd be fine by myself. I don't need you and I don't need him. I'd be fine if he died!" He growled stomping out of the house with an empty canvas sack. Sam watched him stalk out and move down the street.

"Rick you're kid is a little shithead." Sam remarked with a smirk and looked over at the sleeping man. Rick lay silently on the sofa, his breathing barely discernable. Sam laid a hand on his forehead and felt for a fever but didn't detect one.

"Fuck Rick I don't know what to do with kids. Do I go after him or let him figure shit out?" Sam asked the unconscious man.

"Damnit." She sighed rubbing her fingers into her eyes before peeking out the front window and moving to follow the teen. "Probably shouldn't let him get himself killed. You'll probably be pretty pissed off at me huh?" she asked without expecting an answer.

Sam made sure to block the back door with some lawn furniture hoping it would be enough deterrent to keep walkers away. She strolled down the street looking at the kid's tracks in the leaves, her machete out at her side. The street was a straight shot so she had no problem watching his path. Soon she came to the front walkway of a large white house with wrap around porch much like the one they were staying in. Sam listened to the surrounding and then watched as Carl climbed out of a bedroom window carrying a large can of something and a spoon.

His eyes connected with hers and she saw something like guilt flash across his expression.

"Want some pudding?" he offered his voice quieter than before he left their shelter. Sam cleared her throat and said, "I fucking hate pudding."

Carl laughed and said, "You know what I like about you Sam?"

"My charming personality?"

"Besides that, the fact you talk to me like an adult."

"That's not what you were just saying." she remarked looking up at the kid sitting on the edge of the porch roof, his foot missing a shoe.

"Where the hells your shoe?" she asked with a bemused expression. Carl chuckled and tipped his head to the walker currently trying to get out of the bedroom window. "He got my shoe but he didn't get me."

Sam smirked and asked, "Guys got a thing for size 5's huh?"

Carl scooped a heaping of chocolate pudding in his mouth while humming. Sam laughed and announced, "I'll be right up."

Sam did a quick search of the house and found a couple first aid items and a couple new shirts for Rick as well as a coat. Packing everything into a backpack Sam crawled through the window Carl exited from and walked over to the barely open window with the shoe thief. Peeking in she saw he was bleeding from the head already but not a wound that would kill.

"Bullet grazed him." Carl remarked through a mouthful of pudding.

"Don't talk with your mouthful, ya look like a Dixon." She joked pushing the window up enough to stab the corpse in the forehead with her machete. The body fell back and Sam lifted the windowpane completely. Climbing through she grabbed Carl's shoe and then searched the drawers for anything of use. There were a couple lighters in the bedside table and a few tea lights they could use in the house at night. Finding nothing else Sam crawled out and sat next to Carl, her feet swing next to his. Handing him his shoe she watched as he kept eating pudding until his belly ached.

"M'sorry." Carl mumbled after wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Sam shrugged, "Yeah well I get it. You're stuck being a kid but needin' to be an adult. You're Dad just wanted to protect you. Keep you from havin' to make those life and death choices."

Carl chewed his lip and looked around the neighborhood.

Sam decided to continue since he seemed to be in a more receptive mood. "Rick did a lot for your group. I wasn't with you guys in the beginning, I've heard things but really I can just know from personal experience, you do things in this world that change you. Sometimes for the better but sometimes for the worse. And sometimes even if it's for the better it's still for the worse."

Carl furrowed his brow and asked, "What do you mean? How can it be bad if it makes you better?"

Sam chewed her cheek and explained herself, "Well something may make you a better survivor, give you better chances at survival but…. they might not be good for you as a person. Some skills take away parts of your humanity."

Carl raised an eyebrow asking silently for an example. Sam sighed and rubbed her neck before replying carefully, "I've had to kill to keep safe. Kill to keep others safe. My uncle… I was with him in the beginning, before the Governor… anyways. I did things… killed people to keep him safe. I had to do it again to save Merle, save me." She stops and thinks about how long ago everything seemed. "Anyways. This world takes little pieces of you. A little bit at a time without you even noticing but eventually they add up and you can become something you never thought. Your Dad just wants to keep you from changing too much. From losing your chance at not having the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Carl nodded and looked down at his shoes, his feet kicking out a couple times. He turned back to Sam and whispered, "Do you think anyone's alive?"

"Yeah. I know they are. Just gotta keep living and looking. We'll find 'em." She said hoping if she said it out loud it would come true. That they would all find each other eventually.

'Please Merle, Please find me.' she repeated.

The two of them cleared the block of supplies and headed home before nightfall. Sam hoped Rick was still resting and nothing happened while they left. She couldn't let his son run off and felt Rick would feel better about her choice than stay to baby sit him as he slept.

"You're gonna have some interesting shits kid." She said with a grin as they walked home. Carl scrunched up his nose, "Shuddup. That's gross."

"Just sayin'. You're the one who ate 112 ounces of pudding." She explained her eyebrow cocked up and a smirk hiding behind a bit lip. Carl rolled his eyes and climbed the steps to the back porch, helping Sam removed the lawn furniture. Once inside they found Rick still sleeping on the sofa, his breathing still deep and rough.

"I'd say eat some dinner but I'm sure your full." Sam said pulling out some first aid supplies to clean Rick's face again. Carl moaned and rubbed his belly, "Yeah I think I'm gonna be full for a month."

Sam laughed and knelt by the sleeping man and whispered, "Rick."

He didn't move an inch though, his breathing steady. Sam shrugged and cleaned the cuts on his face and knuckles. After bandaging him up Sam sat down to eat some food. She let her mind drift to Merle and Daryl, wondering if they got out together. Those thoughts led to questions about the others left behind. Michonne being the other person she considered a close friend. They had spent countless occasions talking about everyday shit or deeper conversations about the world and all that it entailed. There were many nights spent drinking whiskey and eating looted Twinkies on the rooftop. Sam hoped that she got away. She hoped that Michonne got her wish and killed the bastard.

'Bastard,' Sam thought angrily. Her mind imagining the horrors the Governor inflicted on Hershel and in front of children. 'I hope that fucker is in hell.'

Leaning back Sam looked out the window at the fading light. She watched the blue sky fade to black and the black become speckled with bright lights. Carl joined her and said, "I'm going to sleep, wake me in a few hours ok?"

"Sure. You sleeping down here or upstairs?"

"Upstairs. First door on the left." He said moving toward the staircase. Sam nodded and watched the kid climb the stairs. She could tell he was less pissed off and happy he got it out of his system.

Earlier that day

Merle followed a set of tracks that seemed far too human to be a walker yet still amongst the path of the herd. They weren't rushed footsteps like they were running from the herd and they were from the same time period as the herd. Merle's sixth sense was prickling that they were from someone he knew and he didn't have any basis for the thought other than his gut feeling. If there's one thing a Dixon was good at it was gut feelings. They just knew shit.

Merle reached the beginning of a clearing and found a dozen dead walkers cut into pieces in the shape a circle. It was obvious someone had plowed down a small group with ease while standing in one spot. The floor wasn't full of struggled prints or cluttered steps of a fight. The walkers were all slayed where they stood. It gave him a sense of familiarity and at first he thought of it being Sam but then two walkers stood out to him. Two walkers missing arms and jaws. Two walkers wearing leashes.

"Michonne!" Merle blurted out his calculating eyes roaming over the forest floor looking for her path away from the dead. She had killed her bodyguard walkers for some reason. Merle walked in circles finally locating her path away from the corpses. He felt the first glimmer of hope since the bus the afternoon before. She wasn't Sam but anyone was better than no one, something that Merle never would've thought before. He sure as hell would not have been so ecstatic about finding someone like Michonne. His born and raised racism would never have allowed him to see Michonne as anything but a lower individual. Now Merle was half tempted to hug the shit out of her if he found the damn ninja. Her prints led Merle towards a dirt road and hopefully they could find the others together.

He let his thoughts roam as he trudged up the dirt pathway. He thought of Sam's blue eyes and pale pink lips. The sound of her laugh and the feel of her cheek pressed into his chest when she slept in his arms. Merle's mind drifted to the thoughts of Sam being his wife again. It wasn't something he would ever have considered. Not until Sam. If it were ever to happen it would be Sam. It could only ever be Sam.

'Girl,' Merle thought with a shake of his head. 'Got me all kinds of soft.'

As he moved through a washed out part of the road Merle caught a scent in the wind. Rotting meat. Scanning the trees he saw a long line of dead trampling through the brush.

'Goddamnit,' he grumbled realizing he had to abandon Michonne's trail to escape the incoming herd. Turning around he moved quickly away from the large group of dead to find shelter until they moved on. All Merle could do was hope they didn't destroy all of the prints he was following.

Four hours later Merle was finally able to escape the large tree he climbed. It wasn't his favorite technique because climbing with one hand was tricky. However there hadn't been much choice in the matter. Luckily the branches were close enough to use his blunt ended forearm as leverage.

Merle walked back to the road he had been traveling on and scanned the ground for who he believed was Michonne's prints. Glaring at the now stomped path Merle sneered angrily. The herd had reached the road and followed the path of least resistance. It meant the group of dead not only covered any and all prints but were also aimed right at Michonne and anyone else she met up with.

Deciding he would just follow the road and hope Michonne hadn't detoured Merle continued his search. It was getting late though and in an hour he would need shelter again for the evening. He was become frustrated by the speed time was passing and the lack of progress. Despite finding prints and signs of a possible familiar face Merle still felt desperate. Sam was out there somewhere without him. She was possibly by herself, still recovering in a world full of not only walking dead things but humans capable of savage acts. Merle needed to find her. He needed to keep her safe like he promised. The longer it took for him to find her, the more likely something terrible was going to happen.

The sun was dipping and Merle pulled himself off the road towards a building that looked like shelter. It was a terribly derelict shack but it would be a roof over his head so Merle blocked the windows and set up some perimeter noisemakers. Sitting on the bare mattress on the hard floor Merle ate a can of steamed potatoes while drinking the last of his water. He needed to find a creek somewhere and get his stash refilled.

The night was quiet until Merle saw the glow of a large fire thorough the woods. It was something big blazing a few miles away, its orange glow lighting up the woods and it's black smoke blocking out the stars. He could smell it on the breeze and soon Merle heard walkers moving through the woods. The fire was attracting them and eventually the area was going to be filled with biters.

'Goddamnit,' Merle grunted packing his bag to get ready to move. If the woods filled with biters he may need to run. The fire was pulling them but it wouldn't keep them from noticing him. Merle kept his eyes on the trees watching the corpse shamble by, their undead eyes focusing on the glowing light through the brush. For the most part they kept moving without a glance in his direction but a few stumble his way. Merle shrugged his pack on and rolled his shoulders a few times to stretch out his sore arms. Moving out the back door he found a path without any incoming dead bodies and took leave of the measly shelter. It was a couple hours until daylight and it wasn't the best idea to travel in the darkness but his gut was telling him to leave. He tried to keep his path parallel to the road he had been traveling but the corpses kept coming and pushing him further away from his goal. The frustration of the last few days was finally breaking Merle's limited grasp of his temper. Growling loudly he pushed the closest walker to the ground and stomped on its rotting head, the gore splashing up and over his boots. Merle swung his blade out cutting another dead man's head into two while pulling his boot out of the downed corpse's head.

"Fuck You, FUCKERS!" he snarled into the dark woods not giving one shit about attracting more attention.

Merle was done. He was done controlling his frustration. If one more setback pulled him off his path to find Sam he was going to snap and burn the whole damn forest down. He was going to stomp every undead motherfucker's head in. Merle wasn't going to stop searching for his woman. He wouldn't lose the best thing to ever happen to him. Sam would be in his arms again and he would ask her to be his wife. Nothing could stop him. Nothing would stop him. Nothing and no one.

Sam was awakened from a deep sleep by a groaning. Her head shot off the couch and she looked across the room at Rick's shadowed shape. He was rolling to his side and seemingly trying to climb to his feet. Everything in her was screaming danger. The sounds coming out of his body sounded remarkably walker-esque.

"Rick?" Sam stated her voice sounding far from confident. Another groan made its way out and Sam instantly brought her knife up, rising to her feet. The dark shadow that was Rick fell off the couch and reached for her. Swallowing thickly Sam took another step forward and prepared to put down someone who had become family.

She took a breath before repeating, "Rick?" Turning her knife to prepare to sink the sharp blade into his forehead Sam steeled her nerves.

"Carl?" Rick's voice croaked out his hand finally reaching Sam's arm. A relieved breath rushed out of her lungs as Carl entered the room. Rick fell to the floor and wheezed, "Don't go outside. Stay safe."

"Dad?" he asked hurriedly rushing forward. Sam put her knife away and helped him back to the sofa. Carl grabbed his feet lifting them off the floor.

"Is he ok?" Carl asked quietly, his eyes wide with concern. Sam nodded, "Yeah I think he's just delirious. He doesn't feel warm like a fever, so that's good. It looks like he got a pretty good concussion though so he's probably having some vivid dreams."

Carl sat down across the room, "Why'd you have the knife out?"

"I thought…. He groaned and it sounded… bad." She stammered feeling kind of terrible for almost killing his dad.

Carl smirked and then black mailed her, "What will you give me for not telling my dad you almost stabbed him in the head?"

Sam laughed and sat down heavily. "Umm I don't know what do you want?"

"How about if you find something good on our scavenges I get first dibs?" he suggested with a cocky grin in place. Sam glared and sighed loudly, "Fine. Not a word."

They shook hands to seal the dead and laughed before Carl took his spot again in the front window while Sam went back to sleep.

Sam woke to Carl and Rick speaking quietly. She kept her back to them and listened to the father son moment.

"You shouldn't have risked it, going out there like that. It's dangerous." Rick rasped his voice rough from sleep, his breathing wheezing slightly.

Carl scoffed, "I was careful. Besides Sam followed me." Sam heard a shifting of fabric and possibly the supplies they scavenged.

"Glad she found us." Rick said quietly, "Gives me hope we'll find others."

Sam strained to hear what Carl was saying and caught, "She says we'll find 'em. That we just gotta look. I think she thinks Merle will find her."

"If anyone's gonna find anyone it'll be Merle and Daryl." Rick stated a smile evident in his voice, "It's good that you found more food."

Carl laughed a little and he confessed, "I found even more….. But I ate it."

Rick hummed and asked, "What was it?"

Sam listened to Carl laugh slightly and say, "112 ounces of pudding."

Rick snorted and said, "You didn't share with Sam?"

"Nah. She told me she fucking hates pudding." Carl repeated which made not only Rick laugh but Sam couldn't hold it in, her shoulders shaking with laughter. She rolled over with a grin and explained, "Carl, you're not supposed to repeat my foul words. You're gonna get me in trouble."

Rick chuckled and spooned some beans into his mouth. Carl shrugged unapologetically and started to say, "I was just…."

A loud knocking interrupted the conversation. Sam jumped to her feet grabbing her handgun and peeking out the window. Rick cocked his revolver and looked through the peephole. Sam glanced over at him with a smile and they both looked at Carl.

"It's for you." Rick said sitting down heavily, his injured leg outstretched. Sam tipped her chin to the backdoor, "Go round, say hi."

She watched Carl jog through the house and out the backdoor. Sam smirked at Rick and wandered to the kitchen to wait for Carl to return. He came in with a huge grin, his hand wrapped tightly around Michonne's gloved one. Sam smiled widely and scooped her friend up in her arms, lifting her off her feet.

"Thank fucking god. Good to see you Mich." Sam choked out feeling overwhelmed with finally seeing a sign of hope. Pulling back she wiped her cheeks and smiled at Michonne's watery eyes.

"You too. How are you feeling? You just finished your meds when shit happened." Michonne asked walking to Rick and giving him a hug.

"I'm fine. Coughing up blood still.. it's sexy." Sam responded before plopping down on the sofa. Rick frowned and apologized, "Shit Sam I forgot. Are ya ok?"

"I'm fine. I finished the meds I just haven't cleared my lungs yet. All the running after got a bunch up."

"So what happened? You guys got out together?" Michonne asked siting next to Carl on the floor. Carl went back to eating and tipped his chin gesturing for Sam to answer. Sam smirked and told her escape story.

"Merle put me on the bus since I was still pretty weak. A couple people died on the bus and turned. It…." She chewed her lip and looked away remembering the screams and gunshots. "It got ugly. The driver got shot and we just… I barely got out. Got knocked out and woke up to Lilith biting my shoe."

Michonne's eyes widened and looked over at Rick. Sam continued, "I ran and then stumbled onto these two. We've been here that last couple nights."

Rick shook his head and rasped, "Did you see anyone Mich?"

Shaking her head she sighed, "I…" Michonne swallowed thickly and whispered, "I took care of Hershel… he was."

Rick held up and hand to stop her, clearing his throat he croaked, "Don't."

Sam felt a lump form in her throat thinking about the kind man who treated everyone with the utmost respect, the man who had saved many of their lives. Looking at her lap she felt tears sting her eyes and couldn't sit still any longer. Moving away from the others she decided to check the windows for any movement. She kept her eyes scanning and her mind focused on protecting the group. Sam couldn't let herself think of the people they lost or the missing man who she'd come to depend on. She just couldn't think about it without wanting to break.

"Please Merle, please be ok." She murmured under her breath.

"Carl and me are going to go scavenge for more supplies," Michonne told Sam who was still propped in the window seat watching the road. "You should get some more rest." Sam sighed and shook her head, "Nah. I slept last night. I'll keep watch while Rick rests more. His ribs and leg wound are going to slow him down if we move on." Michonne watched her with a critical eye but eventually conceded, "Ok. We'll be back in a few hours."

An hour later Sam moved into the living room to find Rick sitting up his head propped on the sofa arm, his neck looking rather uncomfortable. "Rick let's get you in a real bed. You're gonna suffer sleeping like that." Sam ordered her hand reaching out to help him to his feet. Rick grumbled but let her get him up the stairs. Sam wrapped an arm around his waist and took some weight off his leg. Once up stairs she got him laying down and found him a bottle of water.

"Ok get some sleep. I'll wake up when they get back, ok?" Sam instructed with a smile. Rick rolled his eyes and muttered, "I'm not a little kid. I don't need a nap."

"You need to rest your broke ass so I don't have to carry you on my back." Sam quipped causing Rick to chuckle. She turned to leave the bedroom but a loud thump downstairs made her freeze and turn back to Rick. He sat up quickly and listened with her as the front door was kicked in.

"Shit," she hissed peeking through the doorway to see a couple less than savory characters making their way inside. Sam looked out the window quickly to see a few more circling the house perimeter. Moving back to Rick she whispered, "Gotta hide. I see at least five."

"Bed," Rick rasped quietly as he dropped to the floor and rolled underneath. Sam slid under next to him, her eyes locking with his as her heart sped up. Her breath was coming in quick pants and a panicked tremor ran through her. Sam's biggest fear besides Rick and her being found would be Michonne and Carl coming back while the men were there. They needed to get out and away before all hell broke loose. Rick grabbed her shaking hand and whispered, "Be very quiet."

Thanks for reading! Sorry for the cliffhanger but such is life. :) The good news is I have some of the next chapter already written.