Author's Note: Thank you ever so much for the support, reviews and follows! I know Marol is not a popular ship, so it's nice to know people want to read it. I want to give a HUGE thanks to my Beta for this story, Vickih. She is my cheerleader and also gave me the title to this story. She is the one who encouraged me to start writing fanfiction. If it wasn't for her, I'd still be lurking anonymously, reading stories and wishing I could share my own. She's also a fantastic writer herself and supports pretty much every single Caryl story out there.

This chapter is from Merle's POV. This is huge for me because if you've ever read my other stories, I write exclusively in Carol's POV. So this was a struggle but I hope that once I get used to it, the writing will flow. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

XOXO Pamela

2. Lay of the Land

He had only been with them a few days and he already wanted to strangle almost every single one of them. They were the most uptight, joyless bunch he had the misfortune to have to put up with. As much as he despised that prick Phillip and the rest of those Woodbury pussies, at least there people had respected him. No matter the respect came from a place of intimidation and fear. At least he had a real roof over his head, a soft mattress, hot showers and decent food. Now he felt like a rat in a cage, surrounded by grey walls that were as cold as the assholes he was surrounded by now. Daryl was as bad as they were now. The entire time they had been in the woods after escaping from Woodbury, his baby brother had fussed and fretted. Merle knew he had been missing his pseudo family and it chapped his hide. Daryl cared about them, felt more loyalty to them than he did his own flesh and blood. Merle seethed inside when he thought of how Daryl submitted to that sheriff prick that cost him his hand and nearly his life. Instead of trying to track him down, he made himself a cozy little existence with this band of yahoos.

Daryl tried to give him the lay of the land since they settled into the prison. Merle was gobsmacked to learn that the skinny brunette bitch that Shane had been laying the pipe to was actually Officer Friendly's wife. That boy was his and the new baby, well, let's just say it's a good thing Maury Povich wasn't around with his DNA results. It's not like Rick was paying any attention to the squalling brat, he was a man on the edge. Merle wondered sometimes if Rick would eat his gun one of these days. The other one he worried about was the Nubian Queen, Michonne. Andrea's buddy gave him the creeps. He knew she would take any opportunity to slice him up with her katana. He didn't begrudge her that, he did try to kill the bitch. He had approached her once while she was working that banging body out but he was pretty sure that the half assed apology he gave her didn't pass muster. He kept one eye out for her at all times, but he had to sleep so he asked Daryl if he could bunk with him. It was a punk move, but he knew Daryl wouldn't let Michonne come anywhere near his brother if he thought she'd try anything.

Glenn and the farmgirl were a problem, too. When Merle would end up in the same area as Glenn and see the bruises and wounds that marred his face, even he would wince. He knew he did wrong with the kid. But the little shit wouldn't give him any info on Daryl. Merle had lost his mind and ended up throwing that walker into the room with him, but the kid had balls. Merle had to hand it to him, Glenn hulk smashed his way out of the chair and downed that walker just in time. It was impressive. He would have liked to have seen Glenn out in the arena with him or Martinez, fighting the biters in front of the crowd, like gladiators. He guessed finally getting some pussy made the boy grow up into a real fighter. And it was fine, grade A pussy. Maggie was a spitfire. She didn't seem to be harboring a grudge that Merle was there, she and Glenn were going through their own soap opera drama. Merle had banked on the fact Phillip wasn't a rapist but when she came out topless, he had to swallow down the bile that rose when he saw her trembling form. Glenn and Maggie needed to work through their own shit and seemed to have put him on ignore for the most part.

Merle had taken a liking to the old man. Hershel had been one of only two people to acknowledge his presence since he joined them. He liked the old coot, who wouldn't like someone who lost their own limb just like him. It was nice to have someone to talk to about the phantom feelings he would get at times, like his hand was still there, good as ever. Even though Hershel should have beat Merle with his crutches for what he did to Glenn and his girl, he didn't. He could tell the old man had his own demons he must have wrestled with during his life. He actually seemed like he was interested in giving Merle a chance. He figured he'd better keep his eyes to himself when it came to the little blonde daughter of his. He wasn't a pervert. The girl was sixteen, seventeen at the most and Merle certainly wasn't interested in a child. Pretty face, decent voice even though most of the time she was scared of her own shadow. She and Carol had taken the bulk of the baby rearing since Rick went off the reservation.

Carol Peletier. When he got to the prison he recognized her face but it took him a while to place her. Then he remembered she was the mousey thing that was knocked around by that fat abusive prick of a husband. He and Ed had kicked it around the campfire back at the quarry and one night he saw Ed try to wail on his wife. She had been such a meek, grey little thing. Grey like the godforsaken walls of the prison. He distracted Ed that night with a nice fat joint and some whiskey and the big bastard had passed out on a log. Merle saw the wife gather up her little girl and whisked them away to the tent, relief painted across her face. He figured that had been his good deed for the century, giving that woman one night away from that asshole. The next morning his plate had an extra helping of eggs and spam, for which he was mighty grateful. That morning was the day he headed to Atlanta, the day everything changed.

Things really did change, if Carol was any indication. Instead of a mouse, she was a lioness. She came right into his cell, in his face, and threatened to kill him if he screwed things up for Daryl. At first he wasn't sure why she was so passionate, but then he spied baby brother eyeballing their exchange and things clicked into place. Somehow, someway, those two became something to each other. Daryl had told him Ed died along with Andrea's sister at the quarry. He had asked Daryl about the kid but Daryl shut him down with just a simple "Dead." But the way he said that one word and the emotion that flickered across his face gave it away. Something terrible must have happened to the little girl who never left her mama's side. It had affected his little brother, Merle could see the grief on his face, deep and haunting. Now he knew why Carol was so different. It was change born of loss, a loss that could either break a person or make them rise from the ashes, stronger than ever. Merle knew she was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to Daryl. The two fools seemed to love each other but from what he could tell, Daryl wasn't warming her bunk at night. It made the grey haired woman all that more intriguing.

His musings of her must have been a siren's call. Suddenly, the lioness herself appeared at his cell door, leaning one shoulder against the steel bar. "I wanted to talk to you about this meeting Rick, Daryl and Hershel went to today. You think negotiations are going to work? Is your Governor a man that can be reasoned with?"

He huffed at her. "He ain't my Governor, darling. But I'll tell you, your friend and his concubine, Blondie, she's just delaying the inevitable. War's brewing. When Phillip wants something, nothing will stop him. Not Rick, not my brother, not an old man with one leg. No amount of negotiating and bullshit promises will keep him from coming after us. This ugly ass prison might as well have a giant bullseye painted on the front." He stood and walked towards her, reaching out and grabbing a bar near where her shoulder leaned.

Carol's mouth was set in a grim line and she lowered her eyes as she spoke. "When Andrea was here, I told her to kill him. To do it while he was sleeping." Merle couldn't keep the shock from his face. "Oh, don't look at me like that," she scolded. "Do you know how many nights I lay awake in my bed next to the bastard that made my life a living hell and thought of that same scenario? I went as far as bringing a knife to my bed and stuffing it under the mattress. But I never could do it. I was too weak." She looked Merle in the eye. "I'm not weak now. I'd kill the Governor myself if I had a chance."

Merle grinned at the woman so full of fire standing in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and eyed her up and down. He couldn't deny he felt a stirring within himself when she was near him. There was something about her that made him want to give in to his primal desires. There were a couple of women at Woodbury he had fucked. Neither particularly wet his whistle so he never went back for seconds. The mouse was different. She didn't need to be fucked, didn't want to be fucked. If she did, Merle was certain his brother would have been the lucky recipient of her desire. One thing was for certain and that was that woman made him feel itchy. No wonder his brother was so jumpy when he was near her, if she made Daryl feel the way he felt right now. His grin faded as they continued to stare at each other, the air seemingly as thick as molasses.

The moment was cut short when the sounds of the returning party reached the cell block. Carol blinked and stepped back to the railing, looking down to watch the men enter. Merle followed, standing next to her at the railing. Rick had stopped to talk to Glenn and Hershel had hobbled over to Maggie. Daryl's eyes found theirs as the stood on the second level together. Merle glanced over and saw Carol give him a soft smile. Daryl nodded his head towards her, a signal of sorts between them. As she turned to head down the stairs towards his brother, Carol's hand briefly touched Merle's upper arm. "Come down and let's hear what the diplomatic delegation has to say." She smirked and tugged at his arm before letting go and descending the stairs. He watched her walk towards his brother and the itch grew stronger.