Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

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It hadn't been that long ago since Carol had found herself in almost the same predicament as she was in now. Trapped by walkers, fearful in a small dark confined space, claustrophobia constricting her airwaves and gnawing insidiously at her insides. Only that time-she had been totally alone. Now she took some small measure of comfort and relief at the soft snores issuing from across the floor. Of all the people to have been trapped with, she never in her wildest dreams thought that she would actually feel happy to be cooped up with Merle. But she was. His solid unrelenting presence soothed the chill in her heart. She wasn't alone.

Carol took a sip out of the water bottle clasped in her hand, savouring the warm tepid water as if it were something utterly divine. Back then...that time that she had been lost in those myriad prison corridors and had been almost ready to give up on hope and life, she would have given anything then for a single sip, no matter how tepid, or stagnant the water.

T-Dog's face then ghosted to the backs of her eyes, and she felt the tears fogging her vision thickly. Sat there in the darkness, she sadly remembered his wide smile, his sincere chocolate hued eyes, his boisterous mirthful laugh. She missed him, and felt a poignant sadness settle deep inside of herself. He had been bitten, but not even thinking of himself or his plight, his act so unquestionably selfless, he had given his life up for her to escape. She didn't feel worthy of it then, and she didn't feel worthy of his sacrifice now.

She took another long sip of water, reluctantly screwing the lid back on and pushing it back into the bag at her side. She reached in and pulled another bottle out, undoing the lid and shoving herself to her feet. They had to leave-they'd probably been here for too long as it was, but she had wanted at least one of them to get some rest, albeit how short. Sleep and water would have to be rationed as much as possible from now on.

She leaned over Merle and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, shaking him softly. His eyes snapped open, seeking hers and resting there. She silently handed him the bottle, moving her hand off his shoulder as she turned away from him, not seeing the almost questioning look he shot her.

He took a leisurely slug of water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, bottle turned upwards in his palm. "Ya let me sleep too long, sugar," Merle chided her mildly as he stood up, rolling his neck to get rid of the chinks and stiffness. He hadn't meant to fall asleep and he felt a shot of guilt that he had, and that she had let him. He handed her back his bottle, half drunk, and she screwed the lid on before ramming it into her bag.

The sound of his voice sudden in the stillness of the room made her heart lurch unexpectedly. She turned and faced him, one hand tugging the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The blade of the knife in her hand gleamed dully in the thin light. "We need to leave, Merle." Trepidation pulled at her deeply and she found that she couldn't hide the nervous tremor from her voice-and from the quick look he gave her, it seemed that he had heard it too.

He shoved his way towards her, growling in what he hoped was a somewhat reassuring voice and said, "Jus' stick close to me, little mouse. Ain't gonna give baby brother no reason to bitch my ass if I don't keep ya nice an' safe."

Carol gripped her blade tighter. She smiled at him wanly, meeting his even tight lipped gaze. "Let's just get this over with."

Merle paused, his hand grasping the door handle. Carol glanced up at him, swallowing tightly, the thunder of her heart almost overwhelming in her ears. She wiped a sweaty palm against the leg of her pants, pushing closer to the door. She was stood so close to him that her nose was almost pressed into the sleeve of his shirt.

As Merle tugged the door open, the walkers heads snapped immediately towards them, and as one they surged. Carol guessed that there must have been at least seven of them, trapped and too stupid to get out, or staying because they thought their next meal was so close. She grimaced at that thought, keeping pace with the man at her side. A walker loomed close to her, and she caught it with her knife, leaning forward to thrust the blade through it's pulpy forehead. Merle was ploughing through them single-mindedly, they were dropping to the floor with heavy sickly boneless thumps.

One walker slithered its ungainly way to her, and she noticed in distaste that its ankle must have been broken, the way it hobbled towards her with its sneakered foot bent and twisted to the side. She knocked its arm away from her with the back of her hand as it reached out, its long raspy fingers clutching at thin air. Its guttural moan was almost one borne out of sheer frustration. She dodged nearer and slipped her knife through its softened decaying skull, an arc of dark blood and grimy gore spraying outwards thickly. Her feet slipped in the sticky black blood and she momentarily grabbed hold of Merle to steady herself. He glanced swiftly at her, panting slightly at her side. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief, a silent thanks that the walkers were finally dead, and that they themselves remained unscathed.

Merle paced across the floor, his feet clomping heavily, and abruptly he kicked out at a corpse with his boot. "Look'it, the dumb fuck," he laughed, grinding his heel into the soft cracked head, half watching as Carol moved past him to the doorway. She just inclined her head momentarily at him, trying her best to avert her sight from the carnage underfoot, but her eyes compelling her nonetheless.

She stepped outside hesitantly. Grimacing, she looked out across the street. Several walkers were ambling slowly down the asphalt, feet shuffling and the low groans seeming loud in the quietness. As she watched, she saw three more walkers raise their heads in their direction, and she noticed more edging towards them from a pathway between two derelict stores. They had to get away from there before they attracted any more unwelcome attention.

His hand on her shoulder broke her train of thought, and as she looked, he gestured with his prosthesis. "Reckon we stand a better chance in them woods than jus' standing here with our thumbs in our asses," Merle grunted.

"Mhm, the car should be there too, unless..." she trailed off, chewing at her lip. She tried to push the unbidden despair to the back of her mind, hoping against hope that Daryl and Rick had made it out safely.

"Ain't no use hangin' round here, c'mon mouse," he strode heavily down the tarmac, turning and waiting impatiently for her to follow.

Holding the strap of her bag more firmly across her shoulder with one hand, she chased after him. Annoyingly, she had to admit to herself that Merle really did seem to be one of a kind. She kept her eyes to the black shirt marching confidently in front of her, seeing how he casually one-armed dispatched any walker that even dared to stray into his vicinity. He had a cocky self assured demeanour, but she had a strange sense that maybe just like Daryl, he was possibly a lot more than what he appeared to be-what he projected to the outside, to people he couldn't...or wouldn't let near. Or trusted. Just like Daryl. Or maybe...she was just completely wrong and her first analysis of him at the quarry had been right all along-that he was nothing more than a crude self serving ass.

They stopped at the edge of the cul-de-sac, ankle deep in brown sun scorched grass, where not more than a few hours ago, all of this had surely started. She was unsurprised to see the blank space where the car had been parked. She heard a deep sucked in breath of air as Merle stood next to her, his good hand clamped to the back of his neck. He turned on his heel, his smoky blue gaze boring into hers with wry amusement as he stared back at her.

"Son of a bitch," Merle rasped, eyebrows raising. "They really did go an' leave us."

"Merle," she said, raising her hand and catching him by the elbow. "That car horn I heard? I think Daryl and Rick used the car to draw the walkers away. By all rights there should have been a lot more walkers out there than what there were." He faced away from her but not before she caught the almost rueful cast to his face. This was never just about herself, he'd lost his brother too. "Merle, you know that Daryl wouldn't just leave you, not after finding you again. If they hadn't had taken the car, chances are...we'd probably be dead, and them too," she added softly.

He grunted tersely in reply, glancing down at her small hand on his arm, and shrugged. He thought that it seemed Daryl was far more resourceful than he gave him credit for. "We need'a make ground, get the trees at our backs, and find shelter before this fuckin' light quits on us," he said gazing at the waning sunlight. "Them biters will keep to the road more," he nodded, indicating the asphalt behind them with his head.

"Alright," she replied firmly, letting her hand drop from his arm and move to the strap across her shoulder. She eyed the tree-line warily, not really wishing to be caught out at night in the woods, with just the two of them. Chances were they could so easily lose their way amongst the trees in the dark, despite his tracking abilities, and with just the two of them, it would be too much to hope to be able to keep an eye out for walkers as well. If they were in a larger group, that wouldn't be such an issue, but with Merle and herself-well she didn't fancy being caught out there with just him for company, no matter how capable he was.

The sudden dank coolness of the trees shrouded them as they stepped into the undergrowth, her boot caught and snapped on a twig, sending a bird rustling noisily through the foliage. Her eyes quickly scanned for walkers, and seeing none she looked over at him, her blue eyes narrowing suspiciously as she noticed that he carried nothing over his shoulders. "Where's your bag...backpack Merle?"

"Bitches-I mean women an' pussies carry bags an' shit," he smirked at her widely.

Carol frowned at him. "We all carry bags on runs, Daryl and Rick do."

"Point proved, darlin'," Merle smiled, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You're such an ass, Merle," Carol sighed, but as she turned from him, she couldn't help the small half smile pull at her lips.

He followed after her in the woods, four steps behind, and Merle had to admit to himself as he watched her ass wiggling-his curiosity about this woman had been eating him and it had for quite a while now. The interest had piqued a little more since they'd travelled in the car with that damned asshole sheriff driving. He wanted to see exactly what this hold was that this woman had over his little brother. He'd watched them back at the prison. He'd seen them stood close together, laughing like they were sharing some goddamned private little joke. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had resented it. He'd had half a mind back at the prison to tell baby brother to stop acting like a dumbstruck chicken shit over a piece of fucking skirt. After ever single damn thing they'd been through...and lil' bro had just plain old ignored him, making him feel like the shitty outcast that he felt he was. It just wasn't fucking acceptable. But as he'd watched her, seen how she'd handled herself, how she had held herself together, he begrudgingly had to admit that maybe he could start to see a little of what that attraction was. She certainly wasn't that timid shabby little woman he'd known back at the quarry.

And for the one thing, she now had a bite on her that he somehow liked quite fine. That same curiosity pulled at him temptingly, wondering just exactly how far he could push her- to see just how much she would bite back at him. Merle smiled to himself. It'd sure make that long assed trek back to the prison a little more interesting.

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