It's been too long and I feel pretty shitty about it. Here's some Merle and Sam.

I don't own the Walking dead etc etc. OC and non canon is mine.

ENJOY!

After spending the night with Sam in the infirmary, Merle began helping with the clearing of the town. All hell had broken loose while he was beyond the walls with the herd and now the safe zone was more like a war zone. They piled the dead in the streets, to be loaded and burned the following day. Some helped secure the walls, while others cleared and cleaned the houses. When Merle finally returned to the home he shared with Sam and a few others, he was beyond exhausted. Needing a shower and a fresh set of clothing before returning to Sam's bedside, he hadn't been expecting the scene he found in their bedroom.

Someone had removed the body of the man who had attacked Sam, but the bloody mess had been left behind. His chest heaved at the sight of her bare footprints smeared in blood across the wood flooring. The gruesome prints were all over the bedding, area rug and wall, the sticky smudges stretching underneath the bed. Crouching down, Merle peered under the box spring and saw what she was reaching for, a handgun laying just out of grasp.

The man had unarmed her and stabbed her, plunging a knife straight towards their unborn child.

Rage wasn't a strong enough word for the emotion Merle felt, as he took in the sight of his wife fighting for her life, smeared all over their bedroom.

A throat clearing behind him had Merle spinning around with his blade ready. It wasn't often someone got the jump on him, but the wrenching terror twisting his guts in knots distracted him. Daryl stayed stock still as Merle lowered his bayonet and turned back to the horrific scene without speaking.

"Jesus." Daryl rasped, sliding inside to look over the room. "Lil' woman fought hard."

"Alotta this blood's hers." Merle grunted, reaching under the bed to grab her gun. Pulling it out, he tucked it in his waistband, before heading into the bathroom. Slamming a few cabinet doors open, he grabbed a couple towels and cleaning spray to take care of the floors. Sam would come home soon and he wasn't going to let the blood sit and stain the wood floors. She didn't need to see the reminder of her attack.

"Don't need to see this shit everyday. Gonna stain." Merle muttered, when Daryl questioned what he was doing. He was mopping up a huge pool of blood when Daryl crouched down next to him with the bed sheet already splattered red, wiping up a large smear.

"Don't need your help, Darylina." Merle growled, his voice hoarse as he scrubbed a perfectly shaped handprint the size of his petite wife's palm. He could barely contain the bubbling of emotions slowly building inside, a strange loss of control unhinging him.

"Merle." Daryl drawled, his voice low and gruff. "Hey, Merle."

"Fuck off." The gray haired man barked, his red eyes rising to meet his brother's sharp gaze. "Said, don't need ya help, boy."

"She's gonna be a'right." Daryl ignored his brother's rage and cut straight through his bullshit. He wasn't one to push conversation about ones feelings, but Daryl seemed to want to fix the turmoil slowly unraveling his brother.

Merle swallowed around a knot the size of a trailer hitch, in the center of his throat, before responding, "No shit."

"Just sayin', it looks bad but she's a'right. Littl'ns gonna be just fine too." Daryl drawled, chewing on his lip as he avoided Merle's angry gaze. Nodding his head a couple times, Daryl finally made eye contact with his older brother. "Bes' clean this shit up 'cause ya know she'll kick your ass if it stains."

"Shut the hell up, man." Merle huffed, tossing a towel at Daryl. "Fuckin' get to scrubbin' then, Darylina."

They cleaned in silence, both men wiping away the gruesome scene with deep scowls on their faces. Merle couldn't stop picturing everything that happened while he was away from his wife and kid. It was driving him insane to see it smeared everywhere.

Trying to get his mind off the sight before him, Merle rasped, "So what's up with those assholes who jumped ya?"

"Which fuckin' ones?" Daryl grunted, rolling his shoulders awkwardly. "First was this trio, real scared, real stupid."

"But they got the jump on ya?"

"My fault for thinkin' there's still good people out there. Ain't nothin' but assholes out to fuck somebody over." Daryl huffed, tossing a towel into a bucket of soiled cloth.

"The other ones?"

"I think it was the ones those three were runnin' from. We killed 'em."

Merle pursed his lips while collecting all the dirty towels and bedding. "Think they'll be a problem?"

"Not for us." Daryl muttered, standing to help haul the load of laundry downstairs. "Took out a dozen, can't be much more. Said the leader's name was Negan."

Grunting at the opinion, Merle replied, "Bes' go lookin' for signs, ain't good not knowin' whose settin' up shop in our backyard."

"Head out tomorrah." Daryl nodded, handing over a load of bloodied towels to Merle as he tossed them into the washing machine.

Sam lay in bed while everyone else cleaned the town of bodies and repaired the destroyed wall. She felt so useless lying around as everyone worked hard to secure the town again. Obviously, she was laid up for good reasons, she wasn't being lazy but it didn't make her feel any less guilty when looking at everyone's exhausted faces.

Glancing across the room, she looked over Carl, who'd been shot during the invasion of the dead. His face was bandaged thickly, covering the grievous injury to his eye socket and temple. Sam hadn't seen it yet, however the looks on anyone's faces that had, was enough for her to realize just how horrible it must be.

Michonne kept a vigil over his prone body, while Rick was out killing everything in sight, the man returning in the morning covered head to toe in gore.

Turning her gaze towards the door as it opened, Sam watched as Daryl entered the home. His eyes narrowed as he looked over her bruised face and arms, before sliding over to Carl's equally troubling state.

"I'd ask how ya feelin', but ya look like dog shit." He rasped, slouching in a chair pulled to her bedside by Merle the previous evening.

"Thanks, Dixon." She replied, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying the day before. Daryl frowned at the sound and pulled a small white flower from his jacket pocket. Setting it on the bedside table, he avoided her softening eyes and huffed, "Shuddup."

"Dixon did you bring me a flower?"

"Said, shuddup." He grumbled, chewing on his calloused thumb.

Snickering, Sam reached out and plucked the flower up between two fingers and smelled the tiny rose bud. "Definitely smells better than you." She offered with a teasing smirk.

Rolling his eyes, Daryl's lip twitched but he kept his grin at bay as usual. After a few minutes of silence, Daryl informed, "We uh... cleaned up your place."

"Oh." She replied hesitantly. "Was it bad?"

"Don't remember?"

"I wasn't exactly paying attention to anything but the knife plunging into my guts."

"Yeah, suppose not." He huffed, his blue eyes turning darker. "Place was a fuckin' horror show. Merle's..."

"Upset?"

Snorting at her assessment, Daryl replied, "Lil' more than upset."

"I don't blame him."

"Me neither but thought I'd let ya know. Prob'ly won't be such great company today."

"When is he ever." Sam joked but felt her eyes prickle at the thought of the man. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. Just gotta get shit in order around here. Get the walls up and safe for ya again."

"Is he working himself ragged?"

" 'course he is. He's got y'all to take care of."

Nodding, Sam chewed her lip and asked, "Could you keep an eye on him, make sure he's eating and drinking water?"

"Ain't no babysitter."

"You and I both know you've had to do it for him in the past. Just keep him from over doing it."

"Fine." He grunted, standing up to stretch his back and roll his shoulders. "Bes' get back. I'll take care o' your man. You relax and fucking sleep. Alright?"

"Will do, Dixon." She replied, putting the flower to her nose again. "Thanks for the flower."

"S'nothin'." He muttered, shuffling his feet towards the door before pausing to glance back at her. "Glad your both alright."

"I'm glad you are too. Be safe out there."

"Pfft." He scoffed, looking over at Carl sleeping shape. Scowling at the sight, he looked back at Sam. "If he wakes up... tell 'im we're all pullin' for him."

"Will do, D."

Carl woke up soon after Daryl left, the teens remaining eye fluttering heavily for a few moments. Sam watched him raise a hand to his face tentatively.

"Don't touch it." Sam rasped, her voice husky from sleep.

"What happened?" He muttered, his brow furrowing, as he seemed to search for a memory. Sam frowned at the questioned but figured he probably suffered a concussion or swelling from the gunshot.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"The dead got in... we were... in a house." Carl spoke hesitantly, his blue eyes searching her for confirmation.

"Yeah. I was here but you and some others were at Jessie's house." She explained cautiously, hoping she wouldn't upset him. Nodding, Carl scratched his temple gently and he asked, "They're all dead huh?"

"Your dad, michonne and Judith are good." Sam offered, keeping her eyes on his troubled face. "You're fine too."

Carl seemed to think a moment before he spoke, "I was shot. He shot me."

"Yeah, he did. Michonne killed him."

"He always hated me."

"Because of Pete?"

"And Enid."

"Where is she?"

"She left." He rasped, groaning a bit as he shifted in bed. "Am I blind?"

"You see me don't you?"

"You know what I mean."

Sighing, Sam murmured, "you lost your right eye."

"It's gone?"

"Yeah."

Carl let the knowledge sink in, his hand twisting the blanket anxiously. Looking over her bruises, he asked, "Are you okay, the baby?"

"We're okay."

The front door opened, unveiling Merle and Rick, both men remarkably cleaner than last time.

"How you feelin', sugar?" Merle asked while sauntering towards her with a stack of clothing on his arm.

"M'good, handsome." She smiled softly as he leaned down to kiss her temple. "You look better."

Chuckling, Merle sat on the edge of the mattress and laid his hand gently on her stomach. "How's our littl'n?"

"No changes which is good."

Rumbling with unconvinced grunt, Merle stroked the uninjured side of her belly with his thumb while he looked over her bruised face. "Saw the mess ya left."

"Sorry about that." She grimaced, the memory of the man clobbering her, as she bled everywhere. Sam could still feel the warm liquid smearing across the floor below her feet, her fingers clawing for the out of reach weapon. The terror she felt, greater than ever before as she scrambled to save herself and unborn child.

"Don't ya dare apologize for fightin' for your life or my kids." He drawled, leaning his forehead against hers. "Ya did good, darlin'."

Smiling at him, Sam tipped her chin towards the clothing. "That for me."

"Figured ya might want some of your own stuff."

"You'll have to help me." She muttered, her eyes flicking to Rick and Carl as the spoke quietly. Merle grunted at the realization they weren't exactly alone, his eyes scanning the room for a solution. Grabbing a privacy screen, Merle set it up to give them a barrier as he helped her change.

Merle's hand would lie gently against her bruised skin, his eyes tightening as new black and blue marks were unveiled. Kissing along her shoulder, he rasped, "Ain't nobody gonna put bruises on ya again, sugar. M'sorry I wasn't here."

"You were savin' us by being out there." She replied, cupping his face after he got her settled back against a few pillows. Pulling him close, Sam kissed him slow a deep, the man's low growl twisting her stomach. Merle's tongue slid inside her mouth, curling with hers in an unhurried way, the man tasting her thoroughly before retreating to a hair's breadth away. Panting into her mouth, his forehead pressed against hers, he spoke hoarsely, "m'gonna treat ya real good when we get home, shug."

"Promise." She murmured, kissing his lips softly.

"Soon as doc says it's okay." He replied, his hand splayed across her belly. "Gotta make sure the littl'n is a'right."

"Hey, Dixon. Wanna wet your whistle." A voice hollered over Merle's shoulder, the gruff Texas accent barked out from a nearby front porch. Smirking at Abraham as he wiggled a flask in Merle direction, he rasped back in his own southern grit. "Do horny coons hump in the woods?"

The redhead snickered, while chewing on a thick stoggie, his eyes twinkling, "Speakin' of the woods, how's mama bear?"

"All claws and teeth on the outside. Ain't too sure about what's knockin' around inside yet."

Abraham grunted at that, his thick arms crossing over his chest. "It's the good shit, got it from Spencie's stash."

Merle snorted before throwing back a mouth full of liquid fire with a satisfied hiss.

They passed the flask back and forth a few times, the expensive bourbon burning away the day of hauling corpses and burying the dead. Merle kept his eyes on the house across the street, the light on in the bedroom his wife almost died in. She was up there reading or trying to knit, the project turning into her worst enemy. He wasn't sure how she could stand it, being there in the spot she fought for and near lost her life. She was the strongest woman he'd ever met and he was continually surprised at just how much she could stand up to and conquer.

"Nothin's taking that woman down." Abraham drawled, a sweet tobacco smoke filling the air. "Ain't sure how ya landed that one, but she's a keeper."

Snorting, Merle lit a smoke as he recalled the moment he met his wife. The image chilled him to the bone still. Pale split skin, blood and leather. The sick black eyes of the Governor gleaming back at him.

"Take it's not a fairytale howdy-do?"

"Found her at the feet of a real sick prick. Guy I worked for. Used to go out, catch 'em. Round 'em up. Take their shit. If they were useful, we'd bring em back. Mostly we killed em."

He hadn't ever spoken to anyone about his time as the Governor's right hand man. Daryl knew what he believe he'd done and he was probably mostly right. Sam knew more and specifics, but nothing like what was spewing out to the fellow marine.

"Man was a sick puppy. Like to keep pets. Human, dead.. didn't really seem to matter which. Both were just things to play with. Liked fuckin' with people. Poke around, push buttons. Twist things to his liking."

Sucking a deep drag before flicking his spent butt away, Merle explained, "We had these bait spots. Was my idea, ya know put out some bait salts. Bring you in a nice fat doe or stag, easy shot. Ain't real huntin' but a man's gotta eat, so ya cut corners. Had some quality goods waitin' and the trap set. Snatched her up like nothin'. I don't really remember much about her then because my job was to track her prints back to her camp. Count heads and guns. Kill the leftovers."

Drinking another long pull, Merle handed it back to Abraham. "Next I saw her, she was beaten bloody and back all tore up. Curled up at that prick's feet."

"This story better end with you cutting him taint to tongue."

"He's dead but not before he took more than his shoulda."

"That explains it then." Abraham huffed out a laugh, his eyes shining with humor.

"That explains what?"

"Why Sam's with you, she's indebted."

Punching him in the shoulder, Merle growled at the joke but suppressed a laugh. It wasn't something he hadn't thought of before, back in the beginning when she'd seemed so young to him.

"Fuck you." He grunted, yanking the flask back and chugging a bit more liquor.

Merle was about to head home when Abraham drawled, "I had kids once."

The words felt like frozen stones sinking into his guts, as the idea of losing his kid rose to the surface again.

"They uh… saw me become what a man's got to become in this fucked up shithole. The little woman couldn't handle it, she got scared, ran away and got them all killed. I loved her, still love her but she wasn't made for this place. She was too scared. It's good that Sam's a different kinda woman. She'll keep them safe."

"M'sorry about your kids, brother."

Abraham dipped her chin and furrowed his brow as he peered down the street. "Me too."

Merle could see the man spiraling a bit as he reminisced about his children. After a moment, he asked, "you have boys or girls?"

"Both." Abraham chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of his kids. "Man, hope you don't have a girl. I was like a first day recruit shittin' in my shorts every time she cried. Always thought I'd hurt her, she was so damn small and pink. Could barely stand to take my eyes away."

"We're thinking of names still."

"Fuck, I remember those arguments. Couldn't believe some of the shit Martha thought of. Ended up with Abraham jr and Abigail Mae."

"Chose some good ones." He rasped, his hand scrubbing his jaw in thought. They really did need to decide on something.

"Alright brother, get some rack time. Go cuddle up to mama bear for me." Abraham joked, his shit eating grin almost slapped by Merle's lazy swing.

"M'leavin before I kick your teeth in." Merle growled, stomping down the steps.

"Nighty night asshole." Abraham shouted, his fingers saluting him sardonically.

"Fuck off." Merle chuckled.

Sam rested against the headboard reading the latest maternity book Merle had uncovered during their scavenger run. She was half way through and could feel the nerves of the upcoming birth itching the underside of her skin. All the information was overwhelming and every new possible complication they spoke of was made worse by the fact that the solutions they spoke of were ones of the old world. They needed to find books on home birth in order to prepare more thoroughly, she would mention it to Merle and he would hunt them down efficiently.

Hearing the front door close, Sam couldn't stop herself from tensing at the slow footsteps coming up the stairs. Ever since the Wolves broke in and she was attacked, the fear of who was entering the home was incessant. Merle slide inside carefully before seeing she was awake, his lips curling up as he found her in her pajamas.

"Evenin' sugar." He drawled, slowly removing his sleeve and kicking off his boots. "How's lil mama doin'?"

Sam smirked at his new nickname, her lips pulling into a pleased grin every time he said it. "I'm good. Reading this before bed is probably a mistake though."

"Whys that?" He rasped, changing out of his work clothing and into a new tshirt and boxers. Climbing into bed with a groan, he settled down next to her and kissed her temple. Sam curled into his side and nuzzled into his neck.

"Stressing me out."

"Well we don't want that." He murmured, his lips meeting hers as they sunk lower into the covers. Sam moaned as his hand slid up her loose tshirt, the rough fingertips and palm causing goosebumps to break out along her arms and chest. Her nipples puckered as he cupped her breasts, his thumb circled them.

"Merle." Sam gasped as he ducked further under the covers to join his mouth to her chest, his wet tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.

"Mm. Sugar." He grumbled, his tone gravelly and deep. "You're so warm 'n sweet."

"Please don't stop." She begged, the man having kept them waiting until she was fully healed to touch and tease her. Merle chuckled into her breasts, his mouth moving down to lavish her growing stomach with kisses and licks. Pausing at the new scar stretching across her side, he brushed his nose along the mended seam. Kissing it once before peering up, her husband rasped, "ain't never happenin' again, Sam. I'm gonna protect ya both."

Smiling softly at him, Sam cupped his cheek and replied, "I know."

Soon she was divulged of her tshirt and panties, her body spread out as Merle devoured her core with a greedy mouth and fingers. Sam squirmed under his tongue, her hips writhing as he crooked two fingers inside her.

"Goddamn, baby." He growled into her, delving for the center of her soaked parts. "You're sweeter now."

"Merle, Jesus." She shook her head back and forth against the pillow, her chest bowing from the mattress as she came long and hard against the rumbling growls. Sam's hands sunk into Merle short hair, her nails scratching along as she rocked into his mouth.

The low hum of her orgasm came in waves, her eyes fluttering open to find a satisfied smirk latched to her hood.

"Fuck." Sam hissed as Merle continued to suck a slow rhythm while flicking his tongue.

"Gonna cum again." He rasped, the grit in his voice causing shivers up her spine. "One more before I fuck ya, lil mama."

Sam flushed at the pet name, the look in his eyes and ministrations of his mouth pushing her over the edge once more. She kept her eyes on him as she shuddered and shook, her body curling around Merle's neck and shoulders.

"Mm. Mm. Mm." He hummed while climbing up her body, his eyes wild and tongue wicked. "Ain't nothin' sweeter than you're peach, lil mama."

"Merle." She gasped as his fingers continued to thrum against her clit. "Need you."

"Ya got me, sugar." He murmured, nuzzling into her neck and shoulder. "Now ya gotta tell me what's gonna be best for ya, don't wanna hurt ya or littl'n."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. Just tell me woman." He growled, nipping at her neck as his hand massaged her breast.

"On my side." She replied softly, her eyes dropping away feeling embarrassed at the need to accommodate her injury and size.

"Mmhm." He bumped his nose against hers while kissing her slowly. "Gonna make ya cum hard baby."

Relaxing on her side, Sam felt Merle pressing against her back. His hand moved her leg forward, opening her up for him. She moaned as his fingers swept through her soaked lips, the coarse pads dipping inside.

"Fuck." Merle growled into the back of her neck, his breath hot and moist against her scalp. "Ya so damn ready for me, shug."

"Please." She begged while angling her hips to press into his groin. He rut against her soft curves, as he moved lower and into position. Sliding inside her with ease, Merle bottomed out with one steady thrust.

"Fuck." He cursed into her shoulder, his mouth sucking bruises into the delicate skin. "Tight as hell."

Rolling her hips with his plunges, Sam moaned into her bent arm as his fingers plucked at her nipples. "Merle."

Growling at her exclamation, Merle snapped his hips harder and deeper. His hand gripped her hip as he ground against her ass, his dick pulling low moans from her body.

"I got you, baby." he growled into her heated skin, his teeth pressing against the reddened flesh. With a few more rolling thrusts from Merle's strong hips and Sam was crying out into her pillow. She could feel the waves of pulsing heat start from their connection to her arched back and curling limbs. Her toes clenched and fists balled, as he snarled into the nape of her neck and pushed into her as her walls fluttered and flooded with arousal.

"Holy fuck." Merle rumbled against her scalp, his breath hot and wet. "Sweets, oh damn. So hot. You feel that darlin'?"

"Merle." Sam moaned, her ass grinding into his continuing thrusts.

"Watcha need, lil mama? Hmm? Greedy woman." he rasped, the gravel of his voice shivering down her spine deliciously. His hand gripped her hip, his fingers curling into her curves.

"Merle." She gasped, as he pressed her further into the pillow.

"Come on, sweet girl." Merle growled, teeth and lips attaching to her shoulder and neck. "Gimme another squeeze."

The drag of his thick head, through her wet lips had Sam groaning huskily, the sensation pulling a slow moving flush through her body. The feeling of her flexing walls had Merle cumming right along with her, his plunges stuttered and desperate.

"Fuckin' hell, darlin'." He huffed, his breath coming in pants against her shoulder blade, his tongue lapping at her skin. "So damn tight."

With a few adjustments, Merle had Sam curled into his chest, his hand brushing hair from her face. "There she is. My girl."

Humming at his affectionate touch and words, her lips twitching as he nuzzled into her neck.

They lay quietly, both stroking and kissing as they settled in for the evening. Sam was dozing when he rasped, "Gotta think of names for the littl'n."

"Yeah. You think of something you like?" she murmured, her eyes fluttering tiredly.

"Ain't got anything in mind yet. What about you?"

"For a girl, I was thinking Madeline.. it was my grandmother's name. We could call her Maddy." Sam spoke softly, her fingers stroking his chest. "For a boy I thought maybe James, we could call him Jimmy or Jay."

"Mmm." Merle rumbled against her ribs, his hand smoothing up and down her back. "I like 'em… James Dixon sounds like a good outlaw name."

Chuckling at his statement, Sam tipped her face up to look at his crooked grin. "That a good thing."

"Hell yeah. My kid's gonna be a badass."

"Even if it's a little girl."

"Obviously. She'll be just like her mama."

Thanks for reading. Please review!