Hello all. I am nearly two days behind and I feel that a week to write is not enough for my schedule. So, it will probably be a week and a half to two weeks before I can update. This chapter is longer and I wanted more in it, but it was too long so I had to split it up. More chapters for all! (Cheers) This is a long anticipated chapter and while some are going to be really thrilled with me, others will not, but the events to occur in this chapter are what I feel to be realistic reactions on Daryl's and MaryJane's parts. There IS a substantial amount of cursing in this chapter so everyone has been warned!

I would like to thank those who have reviewed chapter 11...mrskaz453, texasbelle91, thewalkingdestroyer, igottoomanyloves, ifrickinlovenarwhals, Vixxie13 and an anonymous reviewer, Guest.

Thank you who has favorited and followed my story!

Please Enjoy and Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters. They belong to their respectful owners. I only own my OC(s).

AN: I have a poll on my profile that asks what franchise story I should write. Everyone's input would be lovely!

Chapter 12

Previously on Blackbird Song...

He dropped his bow, his hands curling into deadly, iron fists. His blue eyes darkened to black, his face drawing up the blankest expression that would turn Medusa to stone. He broke into a full run, like a bull charging for the kill. And kill he would.

His voice broke out like the booming thunder of Thor's fury. "Hey! Get tha fuck offa 'er!"

With inhuman strength, Daryl ripped Jeremy away from her, sending the kid stumbling back, almost losing his balance. His hand gripped MaryJane's arm tightly, making sure there was separation between her and her attacker.

"Mind your own fucking business, redneck!" Jeremy snarled back, his hazel eyes wide and alight with fury.

Ignoring him, Daryl stepped in front of MaryJane protectively, his body coiled tense like an infuriated venomous snake. Keeping his enraged eyes on the Germ, Daryl inquired after MaryJane, his heart needing to know that she was alright.

"Ya alright, MaryJane?"

He risked a glance at her to see her pale and shaking. "I-I'm fine."

Daryl knew she wasn't, but he had no time to grill her. His dark eyes shot back to Jeremy and if looks could kill the kid would've been dead or suffering in a fiery pit. He made to lunge, but MaryJane held him back the best that she could. Her touch made him stop, but all he wanted to do was wrap his hands around the kid's throat and throttle him until he turned purple. No one touched MaryJane. No one.

"Ya keep yer goddamned hands offa her!" He yelled, pointing warning at him.

MaryJane curled her hand around his arm, assuring herself that he was there, protecting her, like he always did. And the other side of her was trying to hold him back, knowing Jeremy was good and dead should she loosen her grip. Though, she knew well that if Daryl wanted to fight then he'd easily throw her off his arm.

Jeremy scoffed, his own hands curling into fists. He was tense as well, almost ready to throw a punch. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

"Fuck yeah, dip shit!" The tracker snarled, his bangs falling dangerously into his eyes, shadowing the deadly glare.

MaryJane stepped closer to Daryl as a cruel grin spread across his lips and her heart almost dropped from her chest. He looked so maniacal. He wasn't her friend, the Jeremy she knew. What was happening to him?

"MJ's told me all about you. I don't know how she could love a dirty piece of shit like you." He grinned, but spoke masked confusion.

That broke MaryJane's weak voice. No one spoke to Daryl like that!

"Jeremy! Stop it!"

Unfazed by his comment, Daryl saw his little game. He was trying to get a rise out of him, wanting to break him down mentally. Oh, tha little shit don' know me. He decided to play along, give the little asshole a taste of his own medicine. If the Germ wanted to play then Daryl was more than willing to play. He was good at playing mind games.

"At least she wants me. She ain't ever gonna want yer skinny ass like she wants me." Daryl fired back, his hard face never wavering.

MaryJane was a smart girl. She could see what was occurring and if it went on something terrible would happen. She didn't need an all-out fist fight in the prison yard. Hell, she was sure Michonne was watching at that very moment. Maybe she'll get Rick or Con!

"Daryl! Cut it out!" She snapped, hoping they would both shut up.

Nope, neither would shut up and Jeremy wasn't ready to back down. He had a whole list of things to fire off back at the redneck. He wasn't going down without a fight. Besides, he had surprise on his side. He's gonna regret everything.

"She would've wanted me if your dumbass brother hadn't come and ruined it! She would've learned to love me." He glowered, sending a possessive stare towards MJ.

Daryl stepped in front of her protectively, breaking the kid's look at her. Jeremy just scowled.

"Keep thinkin' that, kiddo. She's mine." Daryl said darkly and possessively MaryJane felt her blood chill.

The youngest Dixon felt a deep swell of triumph in his chest when the kid hesitated for a quick moment before his face darkened with a sneaky expression of pleasure.

"MJ and I have gotten close, very close since she's been with me. She's told me things she's never told you." He replied, his voice not as stand-offish as before, most like he was trying to make nice conversation.

Daryl scoffed. "Oh, really? I've known 'er longer than you, pretty boy, I know jus' 'bout everything 'bout 'er and I've known 'er in ways you can only dream 'bout."

That struck a chord in Jeremy, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

MaryJane watched Jeremy and his reactions. If he were a time bomb he was about to explode. Daryl was now egging him on and she knew only something deadly would come from it. She had to stop it.

"Daryl! Stop it right now!" She yelled, tugging on his arm.

Smoke was almost coming from the kid's ears and Daryl couldn't help but let out a cruel chuckle.

"If you hadn't showed up she would've been mine! I would've fucked her and the memory of you out of her!"

Now it was Daryl's turn to lose it. He broke from MaryJane's grasp and lunged for the kid, slugging him across the face. Jeremy fell to the ground, grunting at the hard impact. Jeremy lifted his torso and wiped the blood from the side of his mouth. He gazed at the blood for a few seconds before grinning up at Daryl challengingly. MaryJane stood motionless as he rose and threw a punch at Daryl which he avoided easily. In his red haze of rage, nothing else mattered outside of this fight. He was gonna make the kid pay for touching his woman. Any man who laid a hand or sodomized a Dixon's woman was going to witness hell on Earth. He laid a punch to Jeremy's gut, making him groan in pain and stumble backwards.

Suddenly, finding her voice MaryJane cried out. "Guys! Stop it! Daryl! Cut it out! Jeremy! Guys!"

Ignoring her, Daryl lifted his fist and slung it across Jeremy's already bruised face. Like an expert fighter, Daryl grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and slammed his face down on his knee. The grunted and in his rage, Daryl grabbed the top of his jeans and threw him away from him like he was common filth. And to Daryl he was just that. Jeremy landed on his back, grunting deeply as he made impact with the grass. Daryl, not missing a chance to teach the kid a proper lesson, straddled him, his fist grabbing his shirt to hold him in place as he laid into him, sending punch after punch to his face. His mind was black, all he knew was to defend what was his and to make the person who hurt her suffer. He didn't want to stop even as Jeremy began quietly pleading for mercy. He wanted to laugh at his pleas. The Germ started it and Daryl was going to finish it.

His vengeful concentration was broken when he felt something soft grab his uplifted arm. He whipped his head around to see MaryJane near tears, shaking and begging him to stop. The red began to fade and consciousness began to return as he soaked in her beautiful face. Sweat made his bangs cling to his forehead, his dark blue eyes almost invisible beneath the curtain of hair. Jeremy was limp beneath him, but breathing heavily. Daryl gazed into her eyes, seeing the pure, unadulterated fear, fear of him. Something in him rejected that look and that's what made him stop, her power over him. MaryJane, seeing that he had returned to her let his arm slip from her grasp. Daryl turned his head back to Jeremy and pulled himself up to stand. Though, as he gazed down at the son of a bitch on the ground he lashed out, making MaryJane jump behind him.

He grabbed fistfuls of Jeremy's shirt and lifted his torso from the ground. He glared into the kid's eyes, seeing the fear from beneath the blood and bruises.

"Ya fuckin' touch 'er or try ta again I'll kill ya." He warned sinisterly.

He shoved Jeremy onto the ground and returned to full height. MaryJane looked Daryl over, relieved to see that he was unharmed. Then again, Daryl was an expert fighter…he had Merle as an older brother so Daryl would be good at fist fighting. His eyes softened as they rested on her face, the nefarious expression on his face growing more to normal, but MaryJane felt the anger rolling off him in waves and she felt a momentary thrill of fear. She'd seen him punch someone for her, but he never punched someone out on the ground. He never lost control like that and seeing how violent he could be was rather terrifying for her. Though, he did it to protect her and that above all made her fear vanish, knowing he'd never turn on her like that. He'd never hurt her.

Daryl took a step towards her, as if wanting to comfort her. In the corner of her eye she saw Jeremy stumble as he stood, seeming to take the pain of Daryl's beating well, but it's what he said made her blood run cold.

"Too bad it's already happened, Dixon." Jeremy snarled wickedly, smiling through the blood.

MaryJane saw Daryl's eyes darken and Mr. Hyde return. Daryl lashed around with murder in his eyes, but MaryJane gained strength from a sudden spike of adrenaline. She grabbed his arm, putting herself between the man she loved and the boy who claimed to feel the same.

"No!" She cried, her eyes growing watery again. "Stop it! You guys can't do this to each other without hurting me too!"

Daryl glanced down at her, but seemed to ignore what she said. When Daryl had his mind set of violence it was going to stay there until the second party was gone or unconscious. Giving the crossbow wielder a soft, but firm look she turned her brown eyes to Jeremy who was favoring his stomach, a lean hand draped across the right side of his torso. In the back of her mind, MaryJane was surprised that Daryl had grown silent and hadn't yelled anything derogatory to Jeremy.

"Jeremy...you know we could never be like that. You're my friend and I care for you, but it's always been Daryl, always...and it'll always be him…I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right. I'm sorry too, MJ."

He turned and stalked—limped off and from his tone MaryJane and Daryl both knew he was far from sorry.

When MaryJane turned back around she felt her limbs grow shaky with the quick growing pace of her heart. Her lover's blue eyes were trained on Jeremy's retreating form, but she noticed something behind those eyes and her blood ran cold for the second time that day. He was eerily silent, the wind, the quiet boom of thunder in the distance and grotesque growls of the walkers outside the fence was the only sound between them. Dear God, she'd never been that nervous around him before!

"Daryl—"

Like a switch being flicked he turned on her, his face dark with fury. "Ya let 'im touch ya?"

The thing that terrified her was how quiet his voice was. She swallowed, knowing the only time he spoke that softly after a fight was when there was a catch to it all. Now, he knew the catch...and he was more than displeased with it. His icy eyes caught hers, making her body lock with terror. What had she done?

"I-It was just a kiss, Daryl, nothing else."

His silence was the most terrifying part. She would've preferred if he'd started yelling and cussing at her. At least she knew how to handle him like that...but when he was silent he was unpredictable, like a grenade without a clip. He just stared at her, seeming to look straight through her instead at her. Oh, God. She shivered, her body feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her.

"Daryl?" She inquired weakly, unable to move towards or away from him.

"'Too bad it's already happened.' He said." Daryl murmured in his heavily accented and gravelly voice.

He spoke in such an empty tone it didn't sound like him, like someone had just knocked his soul from him. A shiver went down her spine. Not good.

"...Daryl." She whispered desperately.

His eyes focused on her then, causing her muscles to cringe. His beautiful eyes showed the deepest of betrayal, like she'd just stabbed him in the back and the heart. It was a pitiful look, one that she'd never seen before and hoped she'd never, ever see again. Her own gut turned inside out at the expression.

My God, what have I done?

"Ya lied ta me."

Words left her. Her voice seemed to just vanish and the ability to speak ran dry in her throat. She just stared at him dumbly, her feet starting to go numb. She saw something dangerous flicker in his eyes.

"MaryJane..." He trailed off in a gravelly whisper.

Her mouth bobbed in response and all at once Daryl snapped, his face contorting in rage, his usually squinting eyes grew so wide he looked insane. He lunged at her, grabbing her upper arms in a vice grip and she winced, cringing as he yelled in her face.

"Answer me, goddammit!"

He squeezed her arms tightly, her muscles contracting in pain. There would be bruises there later. She let out a whimper, one that Daryl didn't hear in the haze of hot anger.

"D-Daryl, you're h-hurting me." She whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Please, God, don't let me cry in front of him!

"Did ya lie ta me, MaryJane?! Answer me!" He yelled, shaking her once.

She couldn't bear to meet his eyes as she began to babble incoherently, the pain in her arms searing through her body. Her vision grew cloudy with the tears she prayed wouldn't fall. Thunder boomed closer than before. The storm was coming.

"I-I..."

Her only response from him was for him to violently shake her again. The dam in her broke and the tears she tried holding back came cascading down her cheeks and they seemed to only anger him more. It was when their eyes met that Daryl knew what he feared was true. She'd lied to him. She kissed another man.

Shaking his head, like he was wanting to deny it, his lips seemed to quiver, his eyes grew into pained slits and his brows furrowed with unshed tears of betrayal. She'd kissed another man.

She lied to me. It's true.

Thunder rang eerily close, the wind starting to die as the storm rolled in.

"Goddammit, MaryJane!"

At the realization and as if she burned him, he shoved her away, making her stumble back and almost trip on her own feet. Her knees tremble underneath her, the joints ready to give out from under her. She let out a sob as she caught her balance, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

Through her broken sobs she managed to speak to him, pleading. "D-Daryl, pl-please! L-Let me e-explain!"

Daryl paced a few feet in front of her, like an angry, caged lion that wanted to snap and release its deadly fury. When she spoke he snapped to a stop, leaning towards her, thrusting a calloused finger at her accusingly.

"Ya fuckin' lied ta me, MaryJane! Ya promised me ya'd never fuckin' lie ta me!"

She winced at his sharpness, a few more tears escaping. "Please, Daryl," She whispered.

"No!" He screamed at her, stopping to yell at her, using his arms to emphasis his words. "I don' wanna hear nothin' from ya! All yer gonna do is lie!"

Another crack of thunder sounded in the sky, the fresh smell of rain growing closer.

She winced, a stinging sensation prickling in her heart. Blinking some fresh tears back she shook her head. Before in her life, she would've fought back harder at him, but for some reason she couldn't. She didn't have it in her to yell back and demand to give an explanation. She just took his anger, knowing full well that she deserved it. In the back of her mind, she knew he would react like that since she was the closest thing he ever had to a real relationship with a woman and to have her step just too far out of line with another man would send him off the rails. Especially, when said woman claimed to love and wait for him. What did that make her? In her self-pain, she didn't feel the soft drip of raindrops on her skin.

"Daryl, I've never—"

He stalked up to her, throwing his finger inches from her face, making her cringe, with threatening ice in his usually warm eyes. "Don' ya fuckin' dare go an' finish that goddamned sentence."

It was at that moment, after following another boom of thunder, the rain came pouring down, like someone decided to hang a shower head hose over them. In the past, the rain made MaryJane feel better. It always seemed to wash away the pain and sorrow, but now, the rain felt like it was pouring on her in punishment, the water feeling like ice on her skin. It soaked into her pores, chilling her right down to the bones. Yet, she didn't feel it, for the numb feeling in her feet had crept higher up her shaky legs and into her fingers.

Licking the fresh water from her parched lips, she plead with the fuming man before her who was unfazed by the rain.

"You-You've g-got to let m-me explain, Daryl! I-It's not w-what you think!"

Daryl had enough talking for one day and her voice was the last one he wanted to hear.

He shook his head, stepping back from her. "No, I don' wanna hear it!"

Desperate, she yelled at him, a sob escaping her lips in the process, breaking her words. "Daryl, p-please! I-I'm sorry!"

It stung when he scoffed at her coldly. "Yer sorry. If ya was sorry why didn' ya tell me?!"

Having no real, logical answer she just mumbled, not knowing what to say. If she said anything it would only piss him off.

"I-I—"

He held up a hand, cutting off her stuttering in irritation. "Jus' shut ta fuck up, MJ. I don' wanna hear yer excuses."

Her lips parted, her heart falling from her chest into her stomach. Daryl never called her 'MJ'. Never. He'd always told that that she didn't look like an 'MJ', that it was too boyish for her. He hated that nickname, but to hear it from his mouth sounded like the worst curse ever. It meant that he was very pissed off at her. It meant that what had happened might never be undone. He might never forgive her. She just stared at him in astonishment, unable to differentiate her tears from the rain, but she knew they were falling like the pieces of her now shattered heart. The numbness claimed her entire body, unfeeling of the freezing rain that caused her hair and clothes to cling to her like a second skin.

Daryl's hair clung to his forehead, uncaring of his soaked clothes for all his feeling was inside. His heart was broken like a mirror, his gut empty and his fists clenched with a desire to hit something. Though, that fist would never be aimed at her no matter how much she hurt him. He couldn't bring it upon himself to harm her. He'd rather shoot himself with his own bow that lay a hand on her with violence. He needed to get away from her, he didn't want to be around her. Just looking at her made him feel sick inside. He almost wanted to puke he felt so disgusted. He had to walk away from her. She lied to him about being with another man. How could he forgive her when she'd been lying to him the entire time? No, he couldn't do it, not anymore. He turned away from her, each sob from her breaking him within.

She didn't want him to leave, but she had no voice to stop him. Would he even stop? Did he just suddenly not care for her anymore? Was this new information so bad that it would make him turn his back on her when she needed him the most? Was he that blind? She sobbed into the rain as he started to walk away, her body completely numb of any feeling except for the hot, red pain inside of her torso.

Oh, God, what have I done?!

She closed her eyes, her face contorting with pain as she sobbed, wanting to claw her heart from her chest. Each beat brought pain like someone breaking each rib with a stroke of a hammer. If her body wasn't numb she would've keeled over. She opened her eyes to catch the man she loved and his retreating form and after the third step he stopped. Her heart leapt into her chest, bringing warmth of hope through her body, but what he said doused the fire in her, freezing her body back into ice.

"Ya know, I thought I knew ya better than anyone fuckin' else...I guess I fuckin' never knew ya at all."

Daryl ignored the gut-wrenching expression of hurt and desperation and walked away, trying to shove away the desires in him to run back to her, take her into his arms and apologize. No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't...no matter how badly he wanted to.

MaryJane stood motionlessly in her spot, the entirety of her frozen in place as the rain tumbled down onto her small form. She stared ahead of her where the once dry laundry was now soaking wet. She sobbed. More work for someone else because of her stupid decisions! As she stood there she tried reeling in the uncharacteristic onslaught of tears that drained from her eyes. Then again, she'd never been yelled at like that before. Never. Her mind began to whirl as the full weight of what occurred moments earlier came falling on top of her like a building made of bricks. Something in her mind cracked, causing a domino effect to run rampant inside her. She felt detached from her body, her thoughts turning hazy as cold started to take her.

This was her fault. She was to blame. She was worthless and a stupid liar. Let's not forget a whore too! She lied to Daryl and now he hated her. He wouldn't want her ever again! Oh, dear God! What had she done?!

Her entire body suddenly jolted to life, fire shooting down her limbs, something akin to adrenaline giving life to her once frozen form. Without having any sense of direction, letting her mind separate from her body she ran, her body sprouting an incredible heat across the nerves in her limbs. The cold rain felt like sharp shards of ice that tried biting into her skin. She needed to get away before they made her bleed! She gasped in heavily as she ran, her soaked clothes making it harder to run. Her mind recognized the path she took, but it was just there, just following where her body took her. Where she was going, she didn't know. Her thoughts were foggy, like trying to drive down a road with an early morning fog clinging to the road. The fire vanished when she finally stumbled inside, leaving her insides charred and numb. She couldn't feel her heart or the beats it took. Was she still alive? Did she collapse in the yard and did the cold finally take her?

It was all surreal as her shoes squeaked with her every step and she almost slipped on the trail of water she was leaving behind. She ran up the stairs, barely managing to grab the rail when she slipped. A part of her wished she hadn't reached for the rail, that way she could fall back down and hopefully end the pain and numbness that plagued her. All of a sudden, being a walker didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe it would make him happy if she threw herself to them, that way he wouldn't have to deal with her. Anyone could put her out of her misery as a walker. The survivors wouldn't give a damn. Neither would she.

After she shook the unfeeling shot of pain on the front of her lower calf, she climbed up the stairs, her body continuing on the path it wanted to originally take. It felt like hours, but she finally arrived at the cell entrance. The curtain was pulled over the open door and her subconscious told her that disturbance wouldn't be wanted, but her body pulled the screen back. On the bunk sat Merle Dixon and Beth Greene, both fully clothed, but faces curled into grins. MaryJane didn't have a care to wonder what was humorous.

Their blue eyes darted to her, startled, but Merle was on his feet the instant he saw her.

"MJ!" He exclaimed, rushing to her side, his blade missing from his arm.

Beth scrambled from the bunk and began worrying over her, asking if she was alright. Merle grabbed her arms, trying to get her attention, but her eyes were out of focus, looking at him, but not at him. She was soaked down to the bone, her skin was pale almost taking on a blue tinge. He cussed under his breath and pulled her into his cell and Beth snatched the curtain back.

Where the fuck was Daryl?!

Merle knew she was close to getting hypothermia and maybe something worse. She needed to get outta those wet clothes.

"Is she okay?" Beth asked worriedly from the cell entrance.

Merle's tone was dark and laced with protectiveness. "She ain't gonna be fer long. Get one o' my shirts. We've gotta get 'er dry or she'll catch 'er fuckin' death."

The elder Dixon glanced at her eyes as he began to strip the wet clothes from her body. She was unresponsive, almost like the MJ he knew was absent leaving nothing but her body. She reminded him of a walker.

Shaking the thought away, he pulled her shirt off, leaving her in her bra. Beth handed him his shirt and with her help they pulled it over her head. She was shivering, her limbs shaking violently and Merle noticed how her body leaned closer to his for warmth. His protective instincts kicking his ass harder had him asking Beth to pull her pants, sock and shoes off. Once she was bare except for Merle's shirt, Beth turned to him, grabbing another shirt to start drying her hair. He pulled his tank top off and began unbuckling his belt.

"What're ya doin'?" She asked confusedly.

"I gotta get 'er fuckin' body heat up or she'll freeze ta death." He informed sharply, his eyes on MaryJane's slumping form, her vacant eyes starting to close with exhaustion.

He let his pants drop to the floor and Beth flushed, unsure of how to feel about the situation. She knew better than to question him since it was MJ they were dealing with. He'd do anything for her and it looks like this was a whole new level for both of them. Even though she should've, she couldn't feel jealous of MaryJane since the poor woman was in obvious distress. The thought brought her to the reason why she was suddenly struck catatonic. It couldn't have been Daryl, they were finally whole again. Was it something else? Did Jeremy get to her?

Merle grabbed MaryJane's icy hand and led her towards his bunk that he hoped was still warm. MJ's form instantly followed his. Once they were beside the bunk he scooped her up into his arms and placed her in the bed. He grabbed a thicker blanket from the top bunk and draped it over her. Something in him shifted when he saw her shaking hand slightly reach towards him, her eyes closed and furrowed. He climbed into the bunk, glancing at Beth who stood unsure at the foot of the bunk.

"Beth, I wantcha ta go ta yer room an' stay there 'til I get ya, okay? Don't breathe a fuckin' word ta nobody, understand?" He ordered as he pulled the covers over his body.

Beth nodded, her eyes darting between him and MaryJane. He rolled his eyes and gave her a mischievous grin.

"Do dis fer me an' I'll make it up ta ya."

"Don't worry 'bout it. I trust you and right now she needs you more than me. See ya in tha mornin'." She smiled, giving MaryJane a sad expression.

Merle frowned as Beth left, but his attention was quickly returned to his surrogate sister who was close to death. He pulled the covers over her shoulders and slid to her level, his face align with hers. He wrapped his bad arm around her waist, pulling her cold body against his. Instinctively, her body curled into his, soaking in the warmth he offered. Merle winced when her cold fingers pressed against his bare chest, making goose flesh rise along his body. He clenched his jaw at the icy pain that shot through him, but only coaxed her closer, his legs pulling hers in between his. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and began rubbing her back, trying to spark heat from the friction.

She felt like a human icicle as her body aligned with his large one. He shivered, reminding himself of who it was that needed him every time his body wanted to pull away from the cold. He moved on from her back to the arm not pressed into the bunk.

"Come on, now, MJ, don' fuckin' do this ta me, girl." He whispered urgently, hoping to bring her back.

Once her arm felt a little warmer he began rubbing her back again, hoping the shirt was trapping some of the heat. He stared over at her white-blue face. She looked dead and by God it fuckin' hurt him to imagine such a thing! Her breathing was still shallow and her body trembled against his. What he wouldn't give for a hot shower right then! He'd sell his soul back to the Devil to get at least a bucket of warm water! Fuckin' apocalypse! Fuckin' walkers!

"Come on, now, Juliet, don' fuckin' go ta sleep. Don' pull none o' that Shakey-for-a-beer crap on me, a'ight?"

Her eyes were clenched closed, like she was trying to not open them to see something. She was awake, he knew, or partially awake. Hell, he knew the feeling. He'd been the same damned way before. Her tiny body soaked in his warmth while his body tried to fight off the offending cold by burning calories inside him. He wished he was had the ability to create fire or harness it, then MJ would be okay. But he couldn't and he cursed himself for it. As he rubbed her back he began trying to warm her face. All thoughts of awkwardness and explanations for it in the future were nonexistent. The only thing Merle cared about what saving MaryJane's life.

Where the fuck was his brother?

Deciding that questions were for later, he focused on her and only her. He laid his cheek on hers, biting his tongue as the painful cold assaulted the sensitive skin if his face. He suddenly regretted shaving earlier that day. After a few moments he lifted his cheek and did something he wouldn't regret, he pressed his lips to hers, her cold ones unresponsive under his. Seconds passed until he removed his lips from hers and pressed them to her forehead, his hand moving to rub the length of her arm again. He moved his lips to different places on the skin of her forehead until he covered every inch of it.

"Wake up, MJ, I wanna 'ear yer sexy Brit accent that gets me all wound up and ready fer ya."

She remained silent, her chattering teeth and flexing fingers the only sign that she was still alive. Merle listened to the pounding of rain on the roof as he nursed his brother's woman. She remained motionless, just the reflexive twitching of her fingers and legs. Merle kept cool, not wanting to panic should she die. No, she wouldn't die. He wouldn't fuckin' allow it! He needed her in his life and by fuckin' God, he was gonna make sure she stayed there! But where the fuck was Daryl?! He'd never let MJ get in such bad shape!

Unless he's the cause...no, it's gotta be more than that...the Germ...oh yeah...oh...shit in my face...he let tha fuckin' car outta tha bag didn't he? The little shit!

Merle glanced at the window and it finally became clear. Somehow, the Germ had caught his brother and sister in a weak spot and told Daryl.

Oh, fuck me up tha fuckin' asshole an' call me Rosie! Tha little conniving pussy ass bitch!

Merle's icy blue eyes narrowed on MaryJane, realizing that the reason she was in the current situation was from the aftershock of Daryl's anger. Dear fuckin' God, what did Daryl do to her? The famous Dixon rage began to pulse in his veins. He was gonna have a go at his brother. Wait until the ungrateful little shit heard what happened to his woman! Because of him she could almost die! Oh, yeah, this was gonna be too good! Merle couldn't wait to lay into his brother verbally and physically. His hands itched to punch and beat him and his voice longed to yell and cuss him out.

Keep yer cool, Merle, MJ needs ya right now. Ya can fuck up yer little brotha after she's better.

But oh, how tempting it was to just track his skinny ass down and plow into his face, then go for the Germ. He felt a sense of sweet vengeance coming his way. And how good it would feel!

Merle moved his hand to her leg and began rubbing it, pleased to feel that the icy skin was warmer than before. Lightning cracked outside and thunder boomed after it, the sun disappearing faster due to the storm. He felt her hand move on his chest in her unconsciousness. Her palm pressed against his pectoral causing him to wince in the slightest. She was warming up.

"Good girl, MJ, jus' keep pullin' from me, a'ight? Let me be yer rock, jus' lean on me. If ya need ta fuckin' fall jus' fall. I'll catch ya, I promise. Ol' Merle's 'ere. Ya can count on Ol' Merle."

He looked at her face, hoping for some reaction from her. Frowning, he checked her hair to see it was starting to dry and then he checked her face, repeating what he did several more times, wishing there was a fireplace in his cell. He laid like that for hours with MaryJane, keeping a positive outlook which only gave him more strength when he felt her skin start to grow warmer. He talked to her, willing her to speak back to him.

"Now, when ya wake up, yer gonna find yerself in bed wit Daryl's brotha, namely me, Ol' Merle so don' go freakin' out on me like I know ya would—"

He broke off, swearing her eyes moved underneath her eyelids at the mention of Daryl. Getting an idea, Merle ran with it.

"Now, MJ—"

She cringed all of a sudden, away from him. He kept her locked in his arms.

"MJ—"

She cringed again, her fingers curling into fists as if in disgust. Did she not like the nickname? A light bulb went off his Merle's head. Neither MaryJane nor Daryl had liked the nickname before. Was this her way of unconsciously showing her disgust? Or was it something deeper? Merle figured, seeing as he got a negative response from the name 'MJ', he might as well try her real name.

"Now, MaryJane..." She stilled, her tense body relaxing. "...MaryJane, yer gonna 'ave ta wake up 'cause Ol' Merle and Daryl's waitin' fer ya."

Her lips twitched at the mention of Daryl's name. Merle grinned. Maybe his good-fer-nothin' absent brother could still help her.

"Daryl'd be real upset to see ya like this, MaryJane. I'd say he'd throw a damned pussy ass hissy bitch fit. So, if ya wake up, Daryl won't 'ave a reason ta kick my ass, a'ight?"

Relieved to see her responses, he began talking about Daryl and him when they had gone nomadic together after she left for college. He told her how, no matter where they were, they'd always come back to the house where the mailbox would always have a letter from her in it. It was those letters that kept Daryl going until he saw her face-to-face again. MaryJane's head had begun to move and her limbs started to move on their own, closer to Merle's warmth. It was when she murmured a word that Merle started to get real excited. His right arm was getting numb after the past hours it laid under her body.

She mumbled something that Merle couldn't catch. As frustrating as it was to sit there and wait, he knew waiting would be the best option. He didn't need her slipping back into her catatonic state. After another hour passed of him continuing to speak and her mumbles did he finally catch a clear word.

"Daryl..."

"Ya wan' Daryl? MaryJane?" He asked softly.

Her head turned into the pillow, her face contorting in pain, her hands pulling away from him. He let her, her skin a lot warmer than it was. A little color had returned to her cheeks and lips. She still looked pale though, but not dead. MaryJane mumbled into the pillow and Merle only caught a few words in her sentence.

"Daryl...sorry...explain...understand..."

His theory hadn't been confirmed, not denied, but he had proof that Daryl most likely tore into her.

"Keep talkin', MaryJane, it'll be a'ight. Keep talkin' ta me." He urged, rubbing her arms gently.

She pulled her face from the pillow, her lips parted as she breathed, her breaths lighter than before.

"I di-didn't lie...I need to explain...Daryl..."

"Yep, he'd been right. His little shit of a brother had torn into her without giving her room to explain herself. Sounds like a typical Dixon. Always jumping on someone in their anger without hearing them out. A tragic flaw in their fucked up family.

"Come on, open those pretty little eyes, girl. Come on, wake up and stop tryin' ta give Ol' Merle a heart attack, yea?"

Her warming body began to twitch in his arms. Color returned to her skin, the blue hue gone, but it brought a sleeping and panicking woman.

"No...No! Daryl!" She cried out.

Merle cussed and cupped her cheek with his hand, stilling her turning head. Her face was still contorted in pain, her lips parted in agonizing pleading.

"Shh, darlin' hush now. Wake up." He whispered, hoping no one was around to hear.

"Please! D-Daryl! D-Don't leave me!" She begged, sobbing.

Merle felt his black heart clenched at the pure, raw fear and pain in her voice. He clenched his jaw, the anger at his brother rising.

"MaryJane, wake up." He ordered firmly, gripping her face tighter.

Her breaths grew heavy and fast in panic. The hands on his chest went to try and grab at his skin, trying to keep him from leaving her.

"I ain' goin' no wheres, darlin'. Old' Merle's stayin' right 'ere wit ya." He assured and her fingers relaxed on his skin slightly. "Good girl, now I need ya ta wake up, MJ."

"No! Daryl! Please!"

"Quiet down, MJ!" Merle hissed, bringing her head towards his chest to quiet her cries.

"Daryl!" She sobbed pitifully. "Please, I need you!"

Finally having enough, Merle grabbed her forearm and pulled her back to his level.

"MaryJane, open yer eyes this fuckin' instant!" He ordered, ignoring the stab of pain from her leg kicking his.

She shook her head, sobbing. Well, shit. He cussed. Something had to break her from her sleep. But what? Get Daryl in there? Fuck no, Merle would start beatin' the little shit to a pulp. Then they'd get nowhere. Great! Now what was he to do?

"Don't leave me! Please!" She cried, her fingers digging into his skin, making him wince.

"I ain't leavin' ya, MaryJane! I need ya in my life! I ain't leavin' ya fer nothin'!" He yelled back, not caring anymore if the others heard.

She stilled beside him, her face growing soft. Encouraged by the occurrence, Merle softened his voice.

"I ain't never gonna leave ya, MaryJane, not when yas become somethin' I need in my life." Merle closed his eyes, struggling as he bit out the last part. "I...I love ya, MaryJane."

He let out a breath of relief when he let it out, surprised at how easy it was to say that to her.

"Like a sister at least." He added with a grin and small nod of the head.

Quickly, he returned his attention to MaryJane who had gone deathly still in his arms. He noted how her body was relaxed, her face soft and calm. He chuckled lightly, thanking the big man upstairs. He let himself relax when MaryJane seemed to stay in a calm, dreamless sleep. Merle turned his head towards the window to see it was darker than the pit of Hades outside so he had time to catch a few hours' sleep. He closed his eyes, and placed his head on the pillow, his lips twitching at the corner of his lips when the woman in his arms snuggled closer to him for warmth. He reassured her by squeezing her unconscious form. After a few moments he nodded off into sleep, certain that she would sleep throughout the night.

Though, after only three hours he was broke from his slumber by MaryJane squirming in his arms, trying to get away from him. He cussed and grabbed her face with his hand, rubbing her skin soothingly with his thumb.

"Shh, darlin', yer okay." He tried assuring, but it seemed to only make her move around harder.

Irritated from lack of sleep and being woke up he snarled at her. Enough was enough. Willing himself to stay gentle with her he looked at her closed eyes, locked his gaze on them and spoke.

"MaryJane,"

"MaryJane, wake up."

All of a sudden she went still and Merle stiffened, waiting for the onslaught of cries. Surprise shot him like Cupid's arrow when she remained silent. His eyes caught movement of her lids, like the beginnings of a flutter. He almost spoke to her when they fluttered open to gaze directly into his. He grinned at her in relief.

"Welcome back, MaryJane, ya 'bout made me piss my fuckin' pants."

Somehow, MaryJane found it in her to grin weakly at that which only made Merle feel relieved. At least she had a sense of humor waking up. She blinked a few times to try and clear her fuzzy vision. When the fog cleared she focused her eyes on the man who spoke to her.

Merle Dixon.

Her mind clicked into place quickly, returning from sleep, or something akin to it. She didn't feel rested at all. Though, she could tell that his face wasn't close to hers from standing up. She moved the length of her body and discovered she was lying on a bed and judging from the warmth radiating from inches away she'd say he was in it with her. Usually, she'd let off some smart remark about wanting to get into her panties, but she was too out of it. Besides, she felt some clothing on her body and most importantly, she trusted Merle. He wouldn't ever harm her in any way. Period. So, she wasn't entirely uncomfortable in the position she was in, but answers were needed. She moved her fingers from his chest, resting them by her head, her eyes never leaving Merle's.

"What h-happened?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

Merle sighed. "Ya came waltzin' in 'ere like a walker version of tha creature from tha Black Lagoon. Nearly scared tha shit outta Beth and me."

MaryJane's brown eyes blinked multiple times as she tried to fully comprehend the world around her. She rubbed her eyes, closing them before opening them again, focusing on Merle who watched her closely, too closely.

"How'd I end up in bed with you? Almost completely naked?" She asked, the ghostly remnants of amusement in her weak voice.

At any other time, Merle would've gave her a hard time, but considering the situation he bit back any perverse remarks.

"Ya came in 'ere all soakin' wet and freezin'. Ya damned near looked like a fuckin' walker. Beth an' I had ta get ya outta yer wet clothes an' get yer temp up befer ya died o' hypothermia or somethin'." He explained, glad to see her flush when he said he had to strip her down and she didn't even know it.

MaryJane smiled weakly at him. "Thanks for saving my life. It wouldn't be the first time and it certainly won't be the last either..."

Merle's eyes narrowed when she frowned, her brown eyes falling to his chest with her face pulling downward in pain.

"Speakin' o' savin' lives an' all..." She brought her eyes back up to his. "...wha' 'appened ta get ya in that situation?"

Her eyes fell back to his chest and her gaze glazed over as she remembered what was causing the dull ache in her chest. Jeremy had kissed her, Daryl had defended her and Jeremy had made Daryl explode. They fought and after it was over Jeremy spilled the beans igniting Daryl's rage onto her. He said nasty things to her and in her sobs she blacked out, not remembering anything past getting into the prison. Merle listened as she recounted hours earlier to him in good detail. His emotions stayed in the firm bead of anger that grew into a hot, protective rage that coursed through his veins.

As she explained what Daryl said struck Merle with surprise. His brother would've never talked to MJ like that, no matter what she did or what happened. He finally realized that his outburst on her was their first insight to how the apocalypse had changed Daryl. Daryl had been losing people he'd come to care for since the dead starting rising. Always one after the other. He was tired of losing people he cared about and with the Germ's admission of MJ's mistake only drove Daryl down that dark path of agony. Perhaps he thought that the kiss between MJ and the Germ was the prelude to him losing her. Merle could see that as a possibility, but it still gave him no right to blow up on her like she had slept with every man in her group.

As much as Merle wanted to punch his brother out, he knew that his brother was more fragile than he was, especially emotionally. Daryl would take little things and make them bigger than what they really were. Though, Merle had a feeling that the kiss in the past and the one in the future was bigger and Daryl was actually reacting justifiably. What if Daryl was? What if there was something bigger going on or going to come? Merle didn't think the kid was that smart, just cocky and stupid.

"...then he turned back around and left...he just left me there in the rain. I felt like dying right there, or throwing myself to the walkers to make it go away."

"But ya made tha best fuckin' decision an' that was ta find good Ol' Merle." The elder Dixon grinned. "I'm fuckin' flattered by tha way."

MaryJane's lips perked. "I'm sure you are. Not many times when you can get your brother's girlfriend out of her clothes."

Merle chuckled, patting her head in a brotherly fashion. "There's the ol' MJ I know."

Her eyes flickered with pain at the use of her nickname, but she didn't say anything to him.

"I wonder what he's doing right now." She mused sadly, sitting up.

Merle shrugged, turning on his back in the bunk, using his right arm to rest his head on and his good hand on his stomach. MaryJane shivered and pulled the blanket closer to her partially covered body.

"I bet ya he's pacin' tha fuckin' cell o' his wit' 'is panties in a knot." Merle guessed, smirking at MaryJane's head, amused by his own thoughts.

MJ remained silent and it made Merle frown. He hated her silence unless it was a comfortable one. This one was far from being comfortable.

"I miss him."

His old ears barely heard her whisper, but he gave the back of her head a thoughtful look.

"Ya still fuckin' hung up on 'im? Even after wha' he said?" Merle inquired, already knowing what the answer was.

She turned her head to look him in the eyes. "I love him, Merle."

His expression softened drastically and he sat up, putting his right arm around her. She kept her face turned towards his as he began to speak.

"I know ya do...but ya gotta give 'im some time ta calm tha fuck down." She nodded in understanding. "An' no matter 'ow much it hurts ya gotta make it through tha days until he comes crawlin' back ta ya like an addict ta his coke, right?"

MaryJane grimaced at the analogy, but nodded, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her chest at the thought of more separation from Daryl. They'd been apart so long and now only after a month of being together and finally finding each other...now she would have to stay away from him. She didn't think her body and heart would allow her to.

"I just...it hurts, Merle..." She whispered, water filling her eyes.

The one-handed man grabbed her arm and shook it lightly, gaining her watery eyed attention.

"Yer gonna 'ave ta try an' ignore it. If I know my asshole brotha it won't be long 'til he comes back ta ya, beggin' fer ya ta take 'im back. He fuckin' needs ya, MJ, more than he needs me or anybody else."

Encouraged a little, she nodded and grinned through the tears as strongly as she could. Merle could see that she was still down and he wanted to do what he was about to say anyways.

"I'm gonna talk ta his stupid ass tomorra an' we'll figure out wha' ta go on, yea?" Merle suggested.

MaryJane's whiskey brown gaze flickered suspiciously in between his. "You don't 'talk' Merle, you talk with your fist."

He smirked. She knew him too well. "Well, I ain' gonna promise that I ain' gonna do that, but all I's gonna do is talk ta 'im...try an' talk some sense inta tha thick head o' his."

Not really convinced, MaryJane gazed at his face, looking for deception, but this was Merle Dixon. He wouldn't deceive her on something like that. She just nodded and turned to study the curtain over the entrance.

"I outta go beat tha shit outta 'im right now."

There it was. Typical Dixon. MaryJane didn't look surprised as she turned her face back towards his.

"Don't, it'll only make things worse." She said, her tone almost ordering.

Usually, Merle would bristle at a command like that, but he knew he could do whatever he fuckin' wanted to do without MaryJane's permission. Then again, he didn't wait for anyone's permission to do anything. He'd give Daryl hell verbally, but MaryJane didn't need to know about the rest. Besides, Daryl wouldn't have a good reason to complain about being slugged at. The little shit would know Merle's reasoning. If he tried to brush him off then his little brother was going to have something else coming his way.

Merle focused his attention back on a silent MJ. Grinning, he leaned over and bumped his forehead against her temple making her look over at him curiously.

"It'll all be okay, I promise."

She smiled and nodded drowsily. With her hands she pushed her back into the mattress, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Merle watched her blankly, but with an expression that showed his brotherly affection for her. He moved to leave the bed when MaryJane's voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

"I's gonna get in tha top bunk." He said, pointing at said bunk.

MaryJane gave him a look. "Merle, you just held me for hours and I didn't care."

"But ya didn' know since ya was so fucked up." He reminded.

A part of her was touched. Merle Dixon, yes Merle Dixon, was trying to act like a gentleman. MaryJane swore that hell must've frozen over…again.

She rolled her eyes. "So? I don't care if we stay in the same bed. I trust you and..." Merle felt something tighten in him as her expression grew pitiful. "...I don't want to be alone..."

Merle considered his options and decided that if he couldn't have Beth there to warm his bed then MaryJane would have to do for the rest of the night. Besides, he hadn't been too keen on the idea of having to warm a whole new mattress. He was about to crawl back under the covers when he stopped and gave her a mock suspicious look.

"Ya ain' gonna molest me in my sleep is ya? 'Cause I know I'm too fuckin' attractive ta resist since ya asked me ta stay in bed wit' ya. I ain' so sure it's 'cause yer cold."

Merle winked at her which made her grin dirtily at him. "Oh! Merle! You are so deviancy attractive that it might indeed be too hard to keep my hands off you, but I guess you'll just have to take that risk."

The elder Dixon smirked lopsided at her and fell back against the mattress. "If I get a hard on in tha night ya got my fuckin' permission ta take care o' it."

MaryJane smacked his chest which he faked a moan of pleasure which only made her giggle since his voice was higher pitched.

"Just go to sleep, Dixon." She grinned, shaking her head, the ache in her chest forgotten.

Merle just smirked at she turned on her side, facing him, giving him extra room to spread out. "Yes, ma'am."

He didn't get a response for MaryJane had already blacked out in exhaustion. Good. She would need the energy. Merle stared at the bottom of the top bunk, going over what he would say to his brother once morning came. It was then that a theoretical light bulb went off in Merle's head and it all finally started to make sense.

There we have it. A semi-cliff hanger with more to be written and read. I already have some of Chapter 13 written out since I thought it would be a part of this chapter, but alas, no, but at least writer's block won't ensnare me as I try to start a new chapter.

How did everyone like this chapter? Yay, nay, okay? Let me know for reviews are my muse!

REMINDER: Please take the poll on my profile concerning the franchise of story I should write next. A new Walking Dead is in the lead and I have a good one in mind. Planning has already begun, but another might rise before it! If you can take a few moments to pop on over and just click away. :)

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Happy Writing!