Jack And Honey - I do enjoy Merle's blunt way of putting things.
Guest - I always enjoy a mysterious Guest review. ^_^ Thanks for it.
MollyMayhem84 - Yeah, like the guy in the pink bunny suit is going to scare a girl wearing a $7 pair of PJ bottom's into saving a character? Come on! (Only funny if you watch Arrested Development) ^_^
Merle's Right Hand - You'll get my AD joke. I trust you to laugh. ^_^
peonies01 - I have a soft spot for Merle accepting Carol as a member of the Dixon clan.
HGRHfan35 - You read my mind...if they both survive, I can totally see them sitting there bickering...well Daryl would be bickering, the Lt. would probably just be egging him on.
laura - You're very welcome. ^_^
itsi3 - Bubbitty? Is that English? O_o Thanks for the review! XD
GG - Yes, it's a flurry of excitement is it? Don't worry, from here on out the chapters go by group scenes, so...it should be a lot easier to read.
Brazen Hussy - Yeah, she's a real peach, isn't she?
Lilone1776 - Haha, taking a belt of grandma's old cough medicine huh? Classy. ^_^
Aphrodite2 - I agree, I feel that way about so many shows that won't be back until the fall now.
Ms Q - I agree. We need to blow his ass up...we didn't get that satisfaction yet.
basically-a-fangirl - Haha, I'm glad you caught that. I sometimes like to slip things into the story that amuse only me, but it's nice to know you were amused as well. (For some reason I seriously think Merle would think that of Daryl...like if he's not pulling his weight and just lying there like a piece of meat, he'd think of him as a hot dog).
Surplus Imagination - Nothing is ever easy, is it? Even though it seems that way. There's always a 'but'.
Chapter Seventy-Eight: Fréquenter
**Carol**
They parked the truck far enough away from Woodbury that they could safely approach it without arousing suspicion.
Merle was leading them, though Carol kept a close eye on Michonne, she heard the woman had a penchant for wandering off to deal with things on her own and with Merle looking for blood for his brother, Carol didn't want to be left holding the proverbial bag on her own.
The oldest Dixon had explained to them earlier that it was probably in their best interests to try and sneak into Woodbury through the East side, where the brick buildings hid the narrow alley from those at the gate, where no one patrolled due to the wall being higher.
Michonne had growled out a question about how they were expected to scale the wall if it was high and Merle ignored her with a smug grin.
Gripping her rifle tighter as they approached the East wall quietly through the woods, she struggled to crouch, the bag with extra ammo heavy on her back.
Merle had an extra rifle slung on his back his remaining hand empty in case he needed his pistol, Michonne wore her sword on her back, so Carol was left wearing the pack with the spare ammo.
She didn't mind the weight, it just made crouching and moving awkward for her. She wasn't used to the military part of their daily life.
"Alright, you two hole up here for a bit," Merle whispered.
"Why? Where are you going?" Carol demanded.
"I'm going to sneak around the front, get a good idea if the Governor's inside or not."
"How?" Michonne asked.
Merle blinked at her. "Polite inquiries," he stated, before a broad grin broke his sombre feature.
Carol chanced a glance at Michonne and found her glaring at the man as he scurried off into the woods, leaving them behind.
"Do we follow him?" She asked.
Michonne shook her head once, but didn't look happy about him leaving them.
..-~-..
..-~-..
It felt like an hour before he returned, Michonne had dispatched two walkers quietly as they waited, but when he finally moved back to their position, he was grinning widely.
"We're in luck," he greeted softly, "we got the Woodbury equivalent of Beavis and Butthead on the gate."
"Which means?" Michonne growled.
"Which means, brown sugar, daddy ain't home and he took all his best gunslingers with him on the road. He only puts those two jokes on the gate when he's out of options."
"So? What kind of threat are we looking at?" Carol asked.
"Other than a few armed civilians, which may or may not know how to use the guns given them and some fairly rowdy seniors, we probably have a pretty clear shot of pulling this off without coming under fire."
"And how are we going to get over that wall, redneck?" Michonne asked.
Merle beamed at her. "Jesus, good question." He turned to eye the wall. "Well, only one thing to do." Stepping forward he took hold of a piece of the plywood that had been used to make some kind of barrier with his remaining hand, he pulled with brute strength. It didn't give, but as soon as Michonne and Carol moved to help it, it began to give, pulling away from the outer wooden fence nails and all.
Behind the plywood, they came face to face with an inner chainlink fence and Merle eyed it for a moment, before grabbing hold with his hand and hauling himself up it.
Carol followed second as Merle reached the top and scrambled over gracelessly, his lack of two hands making it a little hard for him to dismount the fence like a pro.
Swinging her leg up and over the top, she scurried down the other side and waited as Michonne followed them.
Once on the other side, they hurried to press against the back wall of a brick building, in the event someone strolled behind the main street of Woodbury.
"Alright," Merle whispered. "There are three places the Cajun would be, the clinic, the arena holding cells or in the incinerator."
Carol drew her mouth in a grim line, but nodded. "Let's check the clinic first."
"Good thinking, sister," Merle smirked. "Wishful thinking, but good enough, follow me and behave yourselves, right, brown sugar?" He winked at Michonne.
The woman blinked at him.
"I'm not the one who has a thirst for blood," she purred.
Merle scoffed. "Are you so sure about that, sweetheart?"
..-~-..
..-~-..
**Noah**
By the time he returned with Mrs. Douglas, he was beginning to feel that familiar tightness in his chest and had to stoop over in the doorway of the clinic to wheeze deeply in the hopes of getting back his breath.
Mrs. Douglas hurried over to the table with his mother, as Karen shot her son a concerned glance.
"Calm down, Noah, remember to breathe deep," she coached as Noah continued to wheeze.
"What happened here?" Mrs. Douglas asked, immediately touching a hand to the soldier's throat on the side that didn't have the scissors, feeling for a pulse.
She was one of those prim old women who had perfectly coiffed hair, didn't matter if it was the end of the world, she was always immaculate and neat. But she also looked like a good wind would turn her to dust, her head wobbled on her shoulders like a bobblehead and her hands shook something fierce.
"The Governor's fair trial, I'm guessing," Karen said. "What do we do?"
"Mom," Noah gasped, "maybe we shouldn't…he'll get mad when he comes back."
"Noah," his mother warned. "I raised you better than that."
"I've never seen anything like this," Mrs. Douglas said. "They missed the spinal cord, they missed the windpipe, they must have missed the jugular. There's only a very, very small area where those scissors could be stuck in that wouldn't cause serious damage."
Puffing, Noah finally calmed enough to join them, still forcing deep breaths. "What do we do, then?"
"We have to remove the scissors," Mrs, Douglas said. "My hands shake too badly, you can remove them, Karen."
"How?"
"When you pull them out, pull them out slow and straight, if they missed his jugular, then you don't want to nick it on the way out, just hold on though. Noah, cut that needle and fishing line on his shoulder, we'll need it for his neck. How long has he been like this?"
"About two hours," Noah said.
"The scissors are stopping a lot of the blood loss," Mrs. Douglas said. "This boy is lucky."
Retrieving the needle and fishing line, Noah approached the old woman with them.
"You think I'm in any shape to stitch?" She demanded. "Give them to your mother, she'll do it, you remove the scissors."
Noah moved to stand beside his mom, handing her the needle.
"Once the scissors are out, Noah, drop them and place your hand just there and put pressure until your mother is done stitching, I'll walk you through everything."
..-~-..
..-~-..
**Merle**
Using the back entrance, they kept low and hurried through the dark halls.
The 'clinic' had once been just some office building, a realtor's office or something like that, but they had moved in all the medical equipment they took from a nearby hospital to serve their purpose.
No one ever entered the building without being broken or bloody.
They moved slowly.
While the two most useless gun-toters were put on the gate, Merle wasn't sure who was left behind with the Cajun or if the Cajun was even there.
For all he knew could be any number of Woodbury residents in the clinic.
Creeping up to the room where they usually kept the injured, he slowed down, gun out and ready for a confrontation.
"That's it, just keep a steady pressure there. Make sure the stitches are close together, you don't want those ones coming loose."
Moving to press himself against the wall beside the open door, Merle slowly peeked around the doorframe into the room.
He spied Mrs. Douglas standing over the Cajun's body, Karen and her son Noah there as well doing something to the man.
Pulling his head back he pondered his options. He could bust in on them now, but it looked like they were giving the Lieutenant medical aid, so he decided to wait it out.
He gave Carol and Michonne the hold signal and they knelt beside him, taking up roots until he gave the OK.
The thing about Woodbury that both worried and pissed him off was how easy it had always been to infiltrate the place.
Phil's hubris blinded him to the fact that his home was left virtually unprotected, the people inside it had no idea how to protect themselves, because they always had harder men and women with guns to do that for them.
Hell, he'd wager he could stroll out into the main street and the only ones who'd take shots at him were the two left at the gate with the guns.
Glancing into the room again, Merle scowled at the three hovering over the Lieutenant's body and made a quick decision, setting his pistol on the ground and standing up.
He commanded the other two to stay behind, before he stepped into the doorway and into the open.
Slowly he approached them.
Noah was the one to glance up and finding him standing there, his eyes widened.
Merle stuck his hands up to show he was unarmed.
"Mr. Dixon?" Noah asked.
He had everyone's attention now, but his own gaze was on the pale Cajun lying on the table, a pool of blood beneath him. His chest was rising and falling, which was always a good sign in his mind.
"I don't want no trouble," Merle said. "I just came for him."
Seeing as no one was making a move for any kind of weapon, Merle put his hands down and moved in closer.
Karen went back to stitching the Cajun under Mrs. Douglas' careful instruction.
"He one of yours then?" Karen demanded.
"Yeah."
"He shot two of our men," she went on.
"And you seem to be trying to patch him up," Merle replied.
"The Governor promises a fair trial," she growled. "Does this look like one to you?"
"No."
"You know what he is, don't you?" She went on. "It's why you left?"
"I hear you're all having some hunger pangs," he ignored her question. "Why would that be? Haven't I taught you anything?"
"How to drink and make lewd comments at women," Mrs. Douglas replied. "Other than that I don't recall you being very open with your knowledge, Mr. Dixon."
Merle beamed at the woman. "They haven't put your dry old ass in the ground yet?"
"Unfortunately for you," she replied.
"If you were sixty years younger I might put you in the running," he replied. "I like a woman with a sass mouth."
"If I were sixty years younger I'd slap you," the old woman shot back. "But if I do that now I might break my wrist."
"You shouldn't be here, Merle." Karen stated. "If I had a gun and a free hand it'd be trained on you."
"I like old woman Douglas' sass better, less real threat of bodily harm," he replied. "He gonna live?"
"He should, got real lucky though."
"I see that. Coonass luck."
"Are you back for good, Mr. Dixon?" Noah asked.
"Hell no, this rat knows when to abandon a sinking ship."
Glancing up for confirmation of a job well done from Mrs. Douglas, Karen stepped back from the Cajun, wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans. "If we let you walk out with the man, what will the Governor do to my son? He was supposed to be on watch."
"Oh, I don't know, what's he like these days?"
When no one said anything, Merle stooped to look Karen in the eye.
"Stench of a madman clinging to him?" He inquired. "Bet you're all living in silent fear. Can't run, got nowhere to run to, can't kill him, he's got his dogs. What does a pack of soft, weak willed Woodbury residents do?"
The woman didn't say anything, but he could tell his words sunk in.
She turned to the cabinet behind her for more gauze and medical tape.
Merle turned his eyes on Mrs. Douglas who stood by quietly, head wagging, before he took in Noah who was pale and silent.
"You want a place to go?" He asked.
"Be with your prison group?" Karen scoffed as she folded a piece of gauze to tape over the Cajun's wound. "The terrorists?"
Finding all eyes on him, Merle sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Fine, you want me to impart some wisdom? Here's a little something," he motioned to the gauze she was using with his blade arm. "That gauze you're using, came from a group of five survivors we found holed up in the hospital. Philip ordered me and the other men to gun them down and we took everything they had squirreled away. Didn't even hesitate. That Marine on the table, he didn't belong to the prison group, he came from a group that took ours in, no questions asked. The sisters, the nuns, gave us food and shelter and protection, they didn't worry that we could march in and take what they had, they were honestly trying to provide sanctuary. That soldier there, he saved me and my brother's sorry asses, dragged us for a mile on a makeshift stretcher, didn't even hesitate. If you're worried about the prison group being terrorists, then just know that the man there, he's probably the last person left alive in the world who'd lay down his life for yours and your son and old sour-puss over there. This Marine was the only one who stood up for you lot, he didn't want us to just come in here guns blazing, because he still thinks he has to protect the innocent. If he shot your men, then it was self-defence and believe me, the dumb ass will feel bad about it, but for now all you have to do is just let me walk out with him."
Karen set the gauze down, moving to finish stitching his shoulder.
"Hell, I don't want any trouble," Merle said. "I owe a lot to this group." He winced. "If you tell anyone that I'll deny it, but…this is still the group I feel responsible for. Now you're trying to save this man's life, that makes you responsible for it. Are you going to let ol' Phil come back and take it in another botched, undignified way? Or are you going to just let us walk away?" He figured it didn't help to put their cards on the table about the ambush, just in case ol' Phil came out victorious.
Karen's hand stilled. "If I let you walk away, you take Noah with you."
"Mom—"
"The Governor will think that the soldier kidnapped him, he'll be safe from punishment," Karen said.
"You can come too," Merle said.
"I need to stay here," she argued. "They need me here. If the Governor is really losing it, I need to be here to help them."
"Don't be so stupid," Mrs. Douglas said. "The people here are useless, they'll just run you into the ground. You go with your boy, I'll slap them back into shape around here. It's about time they started listening to me for once."
Merle smirked.
"You swear your people will take us in?" Karen demanded of him. "We'll be safe?"
"Well, you'll be safe, but you're both going to have to start getting your hands dirty in the real world."
"I'm not worried about that." She replied, the remaining blood on her hands a testament to that.
Setting her hand on the Cajun's rising and falling stomach, Karen took a good, long think, her eyes focused on nothing.
"You know, a lot of people around here always said you couldn't be trusted," she finally said.
Merle grinned. "But I have such an honest face," he replied. "It's handsome too so that's a bonus."
Karen glanced over at her son.
"Okay," she said. "We'll go with you. But you better hope you're on the level."
"Which way did you come in?" Mrs. Douglas asked.
"Over the East wall," he said.
"Well you're not dragging that poor soldier over it, going to have to find a better way out," she replied.
"You're all sorts of helpful today, aren't you?" He demanded.
She smiled. "What? You thought you were just going to toss his body up and over?"
"In all honesty I wasn't expecting to find him alive enough to care," he replied.
The Cajun Dialect
Fréquenter – To be a regular visitor to a place. To visit a place often.