Haze... Fog...

She tried to blink her eyes but the bright light was causing her temporary blindness. She kept on blinking though, in the hopes of eventually being able to see. She knew if she kept trying, she'd be able to see more clearly.

She felt a faint nausea too – a low, vicious rumbling in her stomach that almost caused her to hurl. She tried to lean to the right to vomit, since she didn't want to hurl on herself. But something held her back. She tried again. And again, she was unsuccessful.

That's when she realized her hands were tied behind her back. But she was still dazed and couldn't see straight.

She lapsed into unconsciousness again.

.

Time passed. She woke up again, but this time, was a bit more alert. She realized she was in a room of some kind. There were four walls and an open window. There was no door. A shed, perhaps. She wasn't sure! The sun was bleeding through the window, temporarily blinding her. She turned to the right and realized that once again she was tied up.

And then, the pain. Shearing, twisting pain in her wrists. Bound for several hours, the pain coursed through her arms and twisted her shoulders.

Andrea was in a chair. Michonne was nearby on the floor, still unconscious.

Neither woman was gagged. So, Andrea called out…

Only, her voice was staggered from dehydration and a series of coughs erupted out of her mouth. And that's when she saw movement from outside.

Fearing a walker, Andrea tried to scream. But when the movement stopped in the entranceway, that's when she realized who was approaching them.

Merle.

Something about campfire singing…

Beef jerky…

More singing…

More beef jerky…

Dizziness…

And suddenly, Andrea realized what had happened. Instantly, her eyebrows furrowed in anger and confusion.

"Thirsty?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Rage and a dry throat prevented her response. But that didn't stop Merle Dixon from slowly approaching her, water bottle and her own special twizzly straw of her own, undoubtedly something to remember him by. At least, she hoped that's all she'd remember.

He stopped maybe two feet away from her and dropped into a low squat. From this angle, he had to look up at her slightly. Andrea glanced at a still unconscious Michonne and then right back at him.

Merle chuckled. "I gave her a stronger dose." And then, he scooted closer and closer until he was inches from her face. "I wanted more time with you."

Andrea tried and failed to prevent a shudder running through her entire body. Merle picked up on it and grinned.

"Now, I'll bet," Merle began, standing up and towering over her. "That you're thinkin' the worst."

Andrea said nothing.

"Oh yeah," he continued. "I'll bet you're thinkin' I'll strip your clothes off, have my," he eyed her up and down, eyes lingering a little longer on her acorn-shaped breasts, "way with you. But that's not what's going to happen. Oh, it crossed my mind of course. But no. I wouldn't do that to you…blondie."

"Wha-" Andrea began until an enormous coughing fit overtook her. She turned away as violent coughs erupted out of her mouth. Merle finally forced the straw into her mouth along with a full water bottle. He smiled down at her.

"Suck it, baby."

Andrea fiercely glared at him, but took the offered drink anyway. She watched the clear liquid twist and turn in the twizzly straw until it finally reached her mouth. Despite the situation, this water was the best she'd tasted and drank in a long time. That, of course, didn't help her anxiety any. As she sucked, she glanced protectively at Michonne. She almost looked peaceful in her drugged sleep – more peaceful than normal. Andrea frowned. Finally, she pulled her mouth away from the end of the straw and finished swallowing. Merle set the water container down and returned to her face.

"Better?" he asked.

Of course, had Merle been closely watching her, he would've seen that she didn't swallow the last swig. Suddenly, a combination of some water and newly formed saliva was spat on his face! He quickly blinked and recoiled a little at the sudden action. Merle took a step back and wiped his face, an appreciative chuckle bubbling out of his throat.

"Gotta hand it ya' girl. You got spunk." And then, he licked his lips. "I like that." And then, he lowered his eyes to her breasts. "I like that…a lot."

Andrea turned her head away from him and muttered, "You're sick."

Merle bolted upright, offended. "I am not! I'm not!" Angrily, he turned, walked over to Michonne, and kicked her thigh.

"Get up!" he screamed. "Wake up, you dumb bitch! Wake up!"

Michonne possibly moved her head a little, but otherwise gave no notice of consciousness.

"H-how much," Andrea began, still a little dehydrated, "did you give her, you sick fuck?"

"Sick?" Merle asked. And then, he sauntered over to her and got right back in her face, in spit-firing range. "Girl, you don't know the half of it. You don't even know what my plans are."

"Yeah?" Andrea challenged. "Well, what are they?"

Merle stood upright but made no other movement. Instead, he played with one of the loose strings on the rope binding her.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Merle almost sadly said.

"Try me."

He looked up into her blue eyes, feeling the hostile sincerity. He studied her for a long moment, weighing his options of what to do next. Then, he abruptly smiled.

"It's been," he began, "a long time since anybody believed anything that came out of my mouth."

"Merle," Andrea exasperatedly began, "just get to the point. What's going on here?"

"Not much for ceremony are ya'?" And then, he laughed – a cruel, oddly high-pitched sound that pierced the shed. Andrea looked up at him like he was insane. But then, a shadow crossed behind him and Andrea's eyes widened. Merle didn't even need to look behind him to know what it was. So, he just casually took a long step to his right, eyes still glued on her, and unsheathed Michonne's sword. Eyes still on her, he swiped it behind with surprising strength and speed.

The walker never saw it coming. It was split in half, like a cruel magician's trick. Blood and guts oozed out of its body. The upper half was still alive as it maniacally reached for them, eyes wide, jaws opening and closing. The lower half finally came to a chicken-headed stop.

And the entire time, Merle stared at her with a cocky expression.

"Sword's sharp, isn't it?"

Merle finally tore his eyes away and stabbed the halved walker. It came to a complete stop, finally dead. He appreciated his work before resheathing Michonne's Girl. He tossed the sword in the corner of the room and sauntered around. Merle Dixon faced the window, the sunlight showing the deep creases in a once handsome face.

"You know," Merle almost dreamily began, "you'd be amazed at people nowadays."

Andrea said nothing.

"There are some…different people." He said. "And yet, they're not."

Andrea coughed once and spit in his direction. Merle chuckled.

"There's that spunk again…"

Andrea checked on Michonne again, who still hadn't moved. Merle didn't even notice or care.

"There's a town." Merle confidently began. "It's called Woodbury. It's run by this…well, I don't even know his name. All I know is that he's called…" And then, Merle turned around and faced her. "The Governor."

Andrea looked confused for a second before neutralizing her features. She urged him to continue.

"Oh, now you're listening to me Andrea?" He playfully asked.

"Do…do I have a choice?"

"Like I said, you probably won't believe me –"

"What's this town?" Andrea asked, changing the subject.

Merle sauntered over towards her as he spoke. "It's a town of about thirty or forty survivors. Everybody works in some way. Place is pretty secure from walkers…unless a herd would come through." And then, he looked away as he came to a stop just inches from her. "He insists…on getting anything he wants.."

Andrea watched him, no longer in awe of this man who once saved people in Atlanta. She was completely disgusted with him and didn't hesitate to show it.

"Why are you telling me this?" Andrea asked.

"Because…" Merle took a step back. "He wanted you."

Andrea's jaw dropped.

"That's right. When I told him about you and Meechonne…oh, I'm sorry. Michonne, he wanted you both right away. But he wanted you…especially. You see," Merle chuckled, "he has a thing for…smokin'…hot…blondes."

A completely visible shiver crushed Andrea. Her binds seemed even tighter and she couldn't resist struggling.
"Oh, don't worry," Merle casually began, "I'll untie you soon. You and Michonne. But I have to make you listen to me and this was the best way I could do this."

"You couldn't," Andrea countered, "just come up and talk to us?!"

"Keep your voice down, girl," Merle warned, "One walker came in here. Another might…if we're too noisy."

Andrea opened her mouth to say something, thought for a second, and closed it.

"But," Merle turned towards the center of the room, standing in the open doorway's sunlight. "you deserve an answer to your question." He cleared his throat. "Like I said, nobody ever believes me when I'm telling the truth…"

Merle almost appeared sad and Andrea almost developed a Stockholm Syndrome-like sympathy for him. But she didn't. She refused. This once admired man quickly became a hated one.

"Do you know what I was before all this?" Merle asked.

"No, and I don't care –"

"A drug dealer."

Andrea huffed and shook her head. "Of course you were."

"And not only that, but I was a crook and a thief." Merle continued. "I may have looked like I was tryin' to be helpful in Atlanta." Andrea raised her head towards him in surprise. "But I really wasn't. I just did…what came as natural."

"That proves," Andrea surprisingly began, "that you do care."

Cruel, suppressed laughter filled the shed or whatever it was they were in. He tilted his head towards the ceiling, his buzz-cut hair almost touching.

"Oh no…" Merle softly began, as he turned his torso back towards her. "I just…I don't know what got into me to help total, fucking strangers risking their dumbass lives in a city filled with the dead." He then turned his whole body and Andrea couldn't help but notice how his frame nearly filled the door. "But I did…and I probably got praised for my actions, didn't I?"

Andrea didn't answer.

"That's a good enough answer." He finished. Then, he shook his head and walked towards her. "But you have a choice ahead of you right now."

"A… choice?" She asked.

"Yeah. You have a choice. And I'm gonna tell you about it right now." He came to a stop and stooped down to her eye level.

"What is it?" Andrea asked, a touch of fear in her voice. It suddenly dawned on her that The Boys were nowhere in sight. He followed her eyes as she scanned the room.

"What are you lookin' for?" Merle dumbly asked. "Michonne's over there and I'm right here and you're –" And then, Merle realized what she was looking for. "Oh…them." Merle smiled. "I killed them."

Andrea was appalled! "Those belonged to Michonne, you idiot!"

"Who cares? They're fucking dead! And we all want them dead!"

Nobody said anything for a few minutes. Merle stood back up and began to untie Andrea's ropes around her ankles. He moved very slowly and methodically, as if he were simply untying a twist-tie from a loaf of bread.

"You need," Merle firmly said, "to make a decision. You need to either submit yourself to Woodbury," Her feet were finally free – tingling sensations roamed her lower body as proper blood flow rescued her sleepy feet. "Or run, baby. Run… But be careful. He'll hunt you down…forever."

Andrea looked more confused than ever. "What? Are you sayin' this…this Governor or whatever…wants me as his…"

Merle nodded, a sad smile on his face. Andrea looked away in disgust.

"Or, you can run." Merle finished. "He knows where you are by now." He stood up. "I threw him off the chase, though…for a while."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

From across the way, Michonne groaned and her right leg twitched, but otherwise did not wake up.

"I told him you and Michonne traveled north. But once he realizes that was a distraction, he'll come after all three of us…with a vengeance."

"So," Andrea angrily began, "you put her and I in danger?"

"You were already in danger, girl!" He replied. "Do you really want to be his plaything, puttin' the sticks to you? Or have your freedom and go wherever you and your sword-playin' friend were headed?"

Andrea looked away, wiggling her toes to wake them up further.

"So," she began, "you drugged us to tell us this information and put a greater distance between him and us?" Merle nodded. "And you drugged us and tied us up so we'd be quiet and listen?" Again, Merle nodded. "And you don't see that as just a little bit insane?"

Merle smiled. "Would you have listened to me otherwise?"

"Yes!" Andrea all but screamed. "Yes! I would have! You saved people's –"

"Nobody!" Merle screamed back. "Nobody ever believed me before all this happened or since!" He towered over her now, his anger getting louder and louder. "I had to knock you out and tie you, don't you see? I had to! I just had to! It's worked in the past and it'll work –"

BANG!

Everything became slow motion after that. Blood spurts from Merle's forehead splashed against Andrea's face. She squinted at it and dared to look up. Merle seemed frozen as the fresh bullet hole oozed blood from his forehead and he fell to the floor, almost on top of her. Stunned, she looked at him as his body shook a few times and then finally went still.

Andrea looked up.

And in the doorway, stood a tall, dark-haired man, a .45 calibre pistol in his hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

.