1. I forgot to say last week, the novel Merle spoke of is The Ruins by Scott Smith.
2. Warning: Major character death in this chapter.
Maggie is on fence duty when she sees the convoy come back, driving fast, too fast for anything but an emergency. Fear grips her and she finds herself running toward the gate. She stands there on tenterhooks as people exit the vehicles. They're all blood spattered, tired and exhausted. And tears streak her sister's cheeks as she comes toward her.
"No." Maggie shakes her head as Beth holds out her arms. "No."
"Maggie…" Beth starts as she looks around and jerks her head at Patrick. He nods and takes off, in a jerking, limping run.
"NO, NO, NO, NO…" Maggie continues to scream the word though she knows, she knows already, deep down inside. Didn't she know when it happened? Didn't she feel that lurching, jerking, sudden absence in her heart when Glenn had been taken? She had, she knew she had. "Where is he?" She screamed now.
"He's in the back." Beth took hold of Maggie when she ran and held her in surprisingly strong arms. She always forgot how strong her sister was. "No, he's not fit for you to see, not right now." She murmurs, holding Maggie's flailing arms as she tries to get free.
And then her father is there, holding her, soothing her. Except she doesn't want to be soothed.
##########
More months pass and Maggie becomes a shadow of her former self. Withdrawn, silent, more deadly than she was before.
It is Merle that she talks to most now.
No one is more surprised by this than Merle himself. And it's not that they talk exactly. More that he rambles about any shit that enters his head and Maggie sometimes answers him. When she'd started to shadow him, he'd thought she was crazy. It was a while before he realised that she knew he didn't expect anything of her.
Plus, he was never going to ask her if she was okay. If there was one thing he didn't do anymore, it was ask superfluous questions.
Even more time passes before she surprises the fuck out of him by kissing him one evening as he sits cleaning the weapons. It's a mindless task that most people hate. Merle is one of the few who enjoys it. Because it is mindless, he can think on other things as he cleans.
How Michonne's skin gleams more than the black metal he's now polishing. How the old, worn wood of this particular handgun's grip is the colour of her eyes.
Soft full lips press on his and Merle blinks.
They're not Michonne's lips. They're…different. Less full, less warm, more pliant.
Drawing back, he looks at Maggie. "Why?" He asked her simply.
"Because." Is all she answers.
"Ain't good enough. And I've got someone." Merle returns as he stands and leaves Maggie among the dismantled weapons he hasn't finished cleaning.
Settling down that night, Maggie's kiss weighs on him. He turns to Michonne to find her watching him quietly. "What's on your mind?" She asked simply.
"Maggie kissed me." Merle says to her.
"Why?" Michonne asked him now.
"Because, all she said." He answers.
"What did you say to that?"
"That it wasn't good enough."
"It's not, I'll talk with her."
Merle frowned. "Why? Ain't like she's gonna do it again." He is puzzled now, his times of sleeping around and contracting sexually transmitted diseases are well and truly over. He's more preoccupied with just surviving these days. With his brother, and now Michonne.
"Maybe." Michonne says quietly. She rolls over and snuggles into his chest, her round ass pressing into his sated cock.
"No maybe, you don't get to say who I fuck. I do and I ain't interested in some fucking mouthy, opinionated girl." He growls in her ear when she murmurs non-committally.
"Fuck this." He rolls out of bed and dresses in irritated silence. It's the first time they've had words harsh enough for him to leave. On the whole they didn't argue which surprised the hell out of most people.
Wandering down the prison hallway, he comes upon Beth and Patrick sparring. They do so quietly, neither holding back. Beth's boyfriend is watching them intently. Beth speaks quietly, talking about moves they're doing, counter blocks and such. It surprises Merle and he stands to watch silently, forgetting he was mad.
When they finish and head off, he returns to his room. Sighing, he lies down, still dressed as he thinks on what Maggie had done. He knew why she'd done it, he knew better than anyone he thought.
"Shit." He muttered as he got up again.
"You going to see her?" Michonne asked him quietly.
"Yeah, no time like the present." Merle muttered. He strode out of his room and down the hallway. Moving through the place he knocked rapidly on Maggie's door. Just as he was about to knock again, it opened and she was staring bleakly at him. "Can't be doing that shit to me again. I got a woman. Understand?" He asked in an irascible tone.
He was sorry he'd used it when he saw Maggie's face close off. Before she could slam the door in his face though, he palmed it and shoved inside. Looking around, he saw the Chink's stuff still around, like he'd be back any second. "Fuck. This shit ain't healthy woman, you got to get rid of it." He turned to stare at Maggie as she stared back.
"How did he die and you lived?" She asked him, her voice cracking on the last word.
"I'm fucked if I know Princess but it happened and I ain't gonna say if I could take his place I would, you know it'd be a fuckin' lie."
"I know. And if I get rid of it, he'll be really gone." Maggie answers his statement about why she still had Glenn's stuff, clothes and belongings lying around like she did.
"Makes sense, ain't true, but it makes sense." Merle said as he sat down. "You ain't gonna be kissin' me again are you? If you ain't I'll help you bag his stuff when you want. Distribute it or take it away so you never have to see it again." He offers not knowing why he's trying to ease her burden. Merle Dixon wasn't made to ease anyone's fucking burden.
"Whatever." Maggie said as she went back to the bed they'd scrounged together and fell face down on it. Merle watched her in the dim light of the single lantern she'd lit. When he heard her breathing deepen, he went to the lantern and turned up the light and then began to gather the man's stuff. Glenn's stuff. He threw the clothes on the chair he'd sat in and the weapons he placed carefully on the table. Other stuff he sorted as well.
##########
Rolling over in bed, Maggie groans a little. It's a groan of grief. These past several mornings, she's woken already knowing Glenn is gone. Before that, she'd wake most mornings reaching for him, wondering where he was before she remembered and had to grieve all over again. Maybe she had Merle to thank for remembering he was gone. Or the three piles of belongings he'd left that night.
She had yet to move them, but she would. The clothes she'd use. Maggie was practical. She and Glenn hadn't been too different in size, she'd use his clothes. His weapons she'd pass on. The other stuff though, she knew she had to sort through it. There wasn't much. Had never been if she was being honest.
Once Glenn had lost his baseball cap, he'd lost his need for belongings. He carried what was useful for the most part. It was only once they'd defeated the governor that he'd started collecting personal things again. Taking a deep breath, Maggie stood, stretched and dressed. She put some toothpaste on a brush, cleaned her teeth, swallowed, rinsed and swallowed again. She couldn't be bothered going all the way to the bathroom to clean her teeth of a morning.
A bit of water on the toothbrush cleaned it too and she put it back on the shelf. She looked at, but didn't move Glenn's toothbrush or comb. They were small things, things she could afford to keep. Grabbing her laundry basket, she takes up Glenn's clothes and moves out the door. She takes them with her to breakfast and then moves on down to the laundry where she washes and hangs them to dry.
"You giving them away?" Beth asked her quietly as she came to wash beside Maggie.
"Nope, I'll wear them myself, they're not too much larger."
Beth nods. "I agree, I'll help you take up the pants." She says simply. They leave their baskets there and head back outside. Maggie looks at the roster. She's on fence duty today. With Merle. With a grimace, she heads over and grabs up a pitchfork. Jogging to catch up to where Merle had already started, she began to shove and thrust with him.
It was monotonous work. They're silent, not conversing. And Merle's usual taunts to the zombies are absent today. When they've finished all who were along the fence, they move to the jeep still in silence. Maggie drives and Merle drags them onto to the back. When they've piled them up, they take them to the pit to burn them.
Standing there together, Maggie finally speaks. "Sorry Merle." She didn't know what had come over her to kiss him like that. She knew she loved Glenn, would always love Glenn, but something in his face had drawn her in.
"'S okay Princess." He answered her. "I get it, I'm the total opposite of him. Ain't gonna remind you of him in any way. Kinda' normal I expect. And if it was a few years ago I'd a fucked you and been on my way before you'd stopped comin'." He huffed, as if ashamed of that comment. "But times are different now." He finished with.
"Not times." Maggie looked up at him, shading her eyes with her hand so she can see his harsh, unforgiving face. "Just you." She watched him jerk. "And that ain't a bad thing." She touched his arm and moved back to the jeep.
##########
They all develop a routine. It takes a while, stops and starts. But a routine nonetheless. Even Merle and Michonne. Michonne watches Merle interact with people. He was gathering friends. Slowly but surely, he was gathering them. And she knew he didn't even realise it. Few people who weren't his friends probably did.
Feeling the warm spring day on her face, she decides to do something they rarely do. Take time for each other. Heading to the kitchen, she gather's some food, packs it and then taking her own weapons along with Merle's she wanders outside to him.
"Hey, let's head out for a bit. I've got some provisions." She looks at him and raises an eyebrow.
"Sure." He answers amiably and follows her out of the smaller entrance, grinning at someone and laughing a little. They walk for a while until Michonne comes across the clearing she'd found some time ago. She spreads out the blanket and sits down. Merle stares at her dumfounded.
"A picnic?" He asks, sounding shocked.
It makes Michonne laugh. "Why not?" She questions him as she sets out the little food she'd brought along. "It's mainly the company. Feel like I haven't seen you for ages." It's true, even though they sleep beside each other every night, she feels like she hasn't seen Merle in a long time.
He sits, crosses his legs and slides his huge hand up her thigh. "I've missed you too." He wasn't one to admit stuff like that, her man. But she was glad he had, she realised she needed it. Nowhere near as often as she imagined most women did, but still. Sometimes was nice.
They eat companionably and in silence. When they've finished, Michonne pushes Merle back on the blanket and straddles him, making him raise an eyebrow in question. "What, so I may have had an ulterior motive. You going to say no?" She questions him mockingly as she undulates over his cock, feeling it rise, hot and thick inside his pants.
"Nope, not me. My mama didn't raise no fool." He goes so far as to put his arms behind his head. Then his face tilts and that eyebrow rises again in question this time. An arrogant statement of 'well? Aren't you going to get on with it?' making Michonne's arousal go from a slow simmer to a raging inferno of lust as she leaned down and kissed him.
As a couple, they were kind of a misnomer. Most people when they dared to hint a question about their sex life assumed it was rough and violent. That couldn't be further from the truth. It had been a slow awkward beginning, touches, and hesitant kisses. Strokes that led to arousal and then orgasms. Sex, intercourse when they'd finally got there had been tender and affectionate.
It had shocked her that Merle Dixon had it in him. She'd gone looking for a quick, hard, bruising fuck and he'd told her in no uncertain terms if she wanted that to hit up Rick. She knew his reputation and she wasn't having any of it. Michonne went along with no herd unless it suited her purposes. And Rick didn't, despite their blossoming friendship. Besides, back then she still hadn't truly forgiven him for thinking about sacrificing her to the governor.
Now though, Michonne wanted to take Merle apart. Make him writhe and moan and let himself go. Let himself be taken. Pulling back, she rested her palms on his forearms where they were still behind his head. "Keep them there, don't move them until I say so, got that?" She asked him huskily.
"Hmm." His answer rumbles in his chest, making Michonne's nipples harden from where she's lying on Merle. He was like a big cat, all warm and purring almost from her attention. She knew that of all the women he'd fucked, none of them had shown him real attention besides a blow job.
"I ever tell you how much I like these?" She questioned as she pulled back and sat up, her fingers unbuttoning Merle's shirt and stroking over his pale pink nipples teasingly. "I love how sensitive they are, how you can almost come from my playing with them." She speaks in a low, intimate voice barely above a whisper. But Merle hears her, his ice blue eyes gazing up at her as she sees arousal bleed into them.
"I mean, if I… flick them, just like so," He arches and rumbles at her again, this time in approval, "They just get harder, like little tiny rocks almost, so hard. And when I… bite them, they get even harder." She demonstrates by leaning down, letting her dreads stroke over Merle's bared chest, through his grey chest hair and over his nipples before she opens her mouth over one and flicks the other with her fingers.
Focusing her attention on them, Michonne teases him mercilessly, her mouth working them, one after another, tongue flicking them, teeth nipping at them, fingers rubbing her spit into his skin. Not pulling back until Merle's rumbles are a constant noise, vibrating against her own nipples as he breathes harshly now.
"Naked." His rumble this time is a word.
"Okay." She agrees and stands to strip down economically. They both pause and listen but hear nothing remotely dangerous.
Then she straddles Merle again, this time her back to him as she opens his trousers and pulls out his thick erection. "Oh, nice. You've made a little drink for me." She grins at his slightly disgruntled rumbling this time as she leans down and licks him clean. Merle is so aroused his cock is already fully extended from his foreskin.
"You can touch me now." Michonne murmurs as she opens her mouth and takes him inside. It is her turn to moan when she feels Merle's large hand cup her backside and move her around so he can slide his tongue into her.
Michonne feels Merle's tongue slide over her sensitive flesh, she knew she was aroused, she could smell herself. She flinches a little at the cool metal of the prosthesis pushing into her flesh slightly, spreading her a little and then fingers slipping inside her.
Rough and callused, they still somehow glide over her inside walls like silk. She knows they're not, but with her arousal it feels like it. A tongue slurps obscenely over her clit and she jerks as it pushes under her hood and touches her directly.
A rumbling laugh answers her jerk and Michonne curses Merle making him laugh wetly against her skin. He presses a biting kiss to her inner thigh and she jerks again. But two can play that game. Michonne stops sucking on Merle's cock, when she pulls off, she sees his skin, wet and glistening with her saliva.
Keeping a hand moving steadily on it, she moves lower, sucking on his balls, opening her mouth and drawing them in to roll around, one at a time and then pulling them out of the way with her other hand too, that leaves Merle's perineum and lower exposed. With a smile of her own, Michonne licks and sucks at Merle there, letting herself wet him thoroughly.
Pushing up, she pushes Merle's pants down his thighs and over his knees and pulls his legs up so he can spread properly for her. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Merle looking back at her, his face shiny with her juices. The smile she gives him makes his eyebrow raise curiously this time. But Michonne doesn't answer, just turns back around and leans down further, her strong fingers digging into the back of Merle's thighs at the crease of his buttocks, pulling them apart further. Exposing his hole to her.
It was a deep pink colour, surrounded by sparse grey hair and as she watched, it winked at her. "Well, that's an invitation if I ever saw one." She said to herself as she leaned down. Pausing, she gathered spittle in her mouth and then spat, the globule landing perfectly on Merle's hole making him flinch.
And then, Michonne opens her mouth and slides her tongue over Merle's hole, around the puckered pink skin, smearing her saliva all over it.
"Fuckin' Jesus woman." Merle breathed into her own body as Michonne felt his cock jerk against her breasts where she'd pinned it, she could feel pre-come pooling as well making her shiver in anticipation.
Not answering, Michonne focused on Merle, his tangy, sweaty taste. How it was like all of his scents pooled here, she tasted all of him in the one place. Moving her arms forward, Michonne uses them to spread Merle's legs further and he obliges by pulling up his ankles, so his boots and trousers bunch there too.
Licking and sucking, Michonne rolls her tongue and begins to push on Merle's entrance, forcing her way inside slowly. She feels Merle's own fingers inside her, stroking her walls, massaging her g-spot and making her writhe in return. They were both close she realised,
Pulling back, Michonne let herself wallow for a few seconds as she fisted Merle's cock and stroked it now, she licked her lips and could still taste Merle on them, just like he'd taste her if he did the same. When she feels the prosthetic pushing on one of her rounded ass cheeks, she moves forward and turns around. Re-straddling Merle, she waits while he fists his cock himself to hold it steady and then sinks down on him.
Arching up and crossing his arms around her waist, Merle slides his left hand up and pushes on her skull, forcing Michonne's head down so they kiss sloppily. She grins when Merle inhales sharply as he realises he's tasting himself on her. "You're not going to pussy out on me now are you?" She asks him impishly as she pulls back.
"Nah." He answers as he licks a stripe up her neck, before moving back to her mouth and eating it so thoroughly, Michonne can't do anything but respond helplessly, moaning. He was like that, despite his unexpected tenderness, Merle was voracious.
Flooding on Merle's cock, Michonne rotates her hips, slowly clenching down and winds her own arms around Merle's broad shoulders. She clings to him as she allows herself to cling to no other. Never thought she'd ever cling to another person.
Feeling a wide, warm palm sliding up and down her back, Michonne feels the cool metal of Merle's prosthesis holding firm against her back as well, resting on the swell of her hips as he hugs her to him. Moaning a little, Michonne feels Merle's cock throb inside her, matching her heartbeat.
Leaning her forehead on Merle's neck, Michonne feels his pulse beating rapidly in his neck, he is as aroused as she is. "Mmm, you feel so good, like fuckin' warm honey." He muttered as he leaned into her neck now, lips questing over her skin, tongue laving her tendon's.
"I'm a bee?" Michonne wheezes around a breathless laugh. He could always do that to her, make her laugh in the midst of her arousal. Something else she'd bet no other woman had ever had the benefit of when they'd been with him.
"Oh yeah, a bee with the best, wettest, snuggest, fuckin' most beautiful, pink graspin' honey pot it's been my pleasure to flood." Merle's words were a growl now as Michonne continued to move her hips on his cock. Working them both off. "Fuck with your clit for me, let me see you work it good." Base words now. They only made her wetter.
Merle groaned and Michonne followed him, her right hand dropping down her body to her clit. Both of them drop their gazes to her fingers as they glide through her springy curls and pull her lips back so she is exposed to their gazes, pink as Merle had said and glistening damply. "Beautiful." Merle growled now.
Looking up, Michonne works her middle finger on her clit as her dark eyes catch Merle's glowing ones. She leans in as he does and they kiss slowly. Tongues winding into each other's mouths as Michonne feels herself tighten as she works her clit toward orgasm.
Moaning into Merle's mouth, he answers her as his left hand smacks sharply down on her ass, throwing her over the edge into a long spasming orgasm. "God!" She exclaimed as he slapped her again, her finger is a blur on her clit, her head falling back as she relies on Merle's strength to hold onto her so she can keep coming.
Feeling heat inside her, Michonne clenches down hard on Merle's cock making his hips jerk uncontrollably underneath her as he comes as well.
Winding herself down, Michonne lets go of herself and lifts her fingers, Merle sucks on them, his tongue slipping over them as he licks her essence off them, their eyes not blinking as they stare at each other.
Watching Michonne's eyes return to their normal colour, Merle feels himself soften and slip from her heated warmth. She pulls back a little and he helps her to stand. Not that he wouldn't like to keep her naked and on the blanket, but they'd been stupid enough fucking out in the open without thought as it was.
When she is dressed, Merle stands and puts his own clothes to rights. They pack up the blanket and water bottles having eaten all the food and slowly begin to make their way back.
"We should do that more often." Merle mentions casually as they walk side-by-side, shoulders bumping occasionally.
"We should, we don't make enough time for us I think. Most people don't probably." Michonne answered him. They're about halfway back when they stop, watching as a flock of birds lift suddenly into the air ahead of them.
Hearing the rasp of Michonne's katana as she un-sheaths it, Merle clicks his bayonet on his prosthesis into place at the same time as a zombie lurches around the bend ahead of them. His face is a rictus of feral animosity. Before either of them can do more than take a step toward him, he is followed by a dozen more, coming from the path and the woods either side.
"Fuck." Michonne swore as she rarely did, they turn to run but are suddenly stopped by more coming from the side of the path to their left.
"A fucking herd." Merle swore, low and vicious. "Let's get the high ground." He said as they abandoned the path for the woods. But it is useless. They're everywhere. How they'd managed to stay upwind of them when they'd been fucking Merle didn't know, but they weren't upwind of them now.
For what feels like hours, they evade, thrust and parry their way through the thinnest spots. But whenever they gain ground, they find themselves forced into another direction. They're getting further away from the compound, not closer. Not that they're trying to get there especially, neither want to have the herd against the fences they still don't trust.
Michonne stumbled and Merle sliced her arm as he reached for her with his right arm. "Shit!" He exclaimed now as he saw the blood well. "Gotta clean it."
"No time." Michonne responded as she dragged herself up, her katana sweeping around to behead a zombie reaching for them, arms outstretched. It falls like a tree when she severs its spinal cord.
It is the beginning of the end though. Merle feels himself turn feral with rage, something in him refuses to lay down and die and he sees the answering rage in Michonne.
It is too late.
Moments later, a child gets under both their guards.
They're rare, child zombies, whether because they have trouble keeping up, or because they don't attach themselves to herds or whether people end the children before they can turn. No one has been able to figure it out, but this one had died, turned and managed thus far to stay around.
Their decomposing fingers, skin shredding from them even as they grasp Michonne's waist are cold and clammy, despite the heat of the day. Their teeth when they sink into the lush curve of her body somehow feel as if they burn her when the flesh is torn from her, shirt and all.
The scream that bursts forth though, doesn't come from Michonne but Merle.
Adrenalin burst through Merle as he sees Michonne bitten. His bayonet pierces the young zombie's skull with ease and he kicks it away. He cannot help but notice there is a piece of flesh in its jaws as it flies backward, taking down two adult zombies in a parody of life-size ten-pin bowling.
Danger is still around them, but the child had cleared a path. Merle yanked on Michonne and took her with him.
And they began to run. No more fighting. They were on borrowed time. He knew there was nothing he could do and he cursed his impotence even as he dragged what would soon be a corpse behind him. He'd be fucked if he didn't get to at least say goodbye to her.
##########
Night has fallen by the time they clear the herd. Michonne is feverish, her skin shedding sweat as if her pores were raining. Merle finds his bearings and a track and sets off toward the compound as he keeps Michonne close.
##########
"I'm not going to make it." Her voice cracks even as she keeps up with him, one dogged step at a time.
"I know." Merle answers her.
"Alive I mean." She clarifies.
"I know."
##########
"Give the katana to Carl." She requests some time later as they continue on.
"Yeah." Merle wouldn't even contemplate giving it to anyone else. He knew it was what she would want.
##########
A vehicle looms ahead in the dark. An abandoned four-wheel drive on the side of the road. Merle flashes their torch briefly. Propping Michonne against the open back door, he reaches in and yanks out the contents littered on the floor without even looking.
Pushing her in, he moves around the vehicle. Winds up the driver's side window and shuts all the open doors. The keys are in the ignition, so he takes those and locks them inside after having put the back seats down so Michonne can lie flat.
Finally, Merle sits down, stretches out his legs and lets her rest her head on this thigh as she breathes harshly.
She was dying.
Each breath brought her closer to taking her last.
"Breathe with me now, slow it down, c'mon woman, slow it down, you don't gotta hurry to die." He murmurs to her as his hand strokes her dreads back from her face.
Her body is decaying already. He can smell it. Death is rank in the air, the fucking grim reaper is standing there, front and centre, waiting to loose his scythe on the one woman who was his match in life.
"Fuck." Merle said as he looked down into the bottomless depths of Michonne's darkening gaze.
It was the last word she heard with her heart still beating.