Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
a/n: Not overly happy with this chapter. I guess I am the type of writer that just can't write anything in advance-no matter what I do, I have to take it apart and keep on adding bits, and taking bits away and then re-writing different bits. Guess I am more of an impulsive writer, most of the time I have a vague idea of the main plot, but it isn't until I've written that I have any idea of where I am going, and some things I write surprise me, other things make me angst. But yeah...this piece has been through the re-write/edit phase three times now, so I've decided to just leave it as it is. I will admit to being hesitant about posting this chapter..
(Added note-Done a minor re-edit on a paragraph with Merle that hasn't been feeling right to me. It is now fixed).
As always, thank you to all those that are reading.
...
"So, ya just gonna lay on your lazy ass in bed all day?" Daryl said, leaning in at the cell doorway.
Merle looked across to him, "Ain't much else to do, little brother." He watched as Daryl smirked then shoved himself from the bars and sauntered in, carefully propping his crossbow against the wall. "You still keepin' watch over me? Is bad enough with Hershel and Carol buggin' my ass."
"Yeah, and ya asked for that, stupid stunt ya pulled yesterday." Daryl shoved at Merle's legs, waited for him to pull himself into a sitting position before flopping on the bed next to him. "What was ya thinkin' brother?"
Merle glanced away from him, unable to meet his brothers inquisitive gaze. He stared at his hand, at the bandages. "Ain't gonna talk 'bout it, so don't ask."
"Was it...like before Merle?" Daryl's voice was quiet and as Merle looked at him, he saw the understanding in his brothers eyes. He didn't know if that felt worse-the pity or the sympathy.
"Go on, little brother, spit it out. I know ye fuckin' want to," he sighed tiredly.
Daryl shrugged, but paused a while before answering. "Wasn't gonna say shit. But a'right. This time? It's good to see you clean, Merle."
"Only 'cause I couldn't find any damned thing. Believe me Darlina, if I could find have found something to take the edge off, I fuckin' would have. Goddamned prison, you'd have thought something a little recreational would be stuffed away somewhere. Inmates now, Jesus-spineless sober fuckers."
Daryl grunted and looked at him, narrowing his eyes. "Rick's thinking 'bout clearing a few more blocks. Gotta map, seen an infirmary, library. Might be worth thinkin' about clearing them."
Merle rolled his eyes at the mention of 'Rick'. "You sharing his cell yet, boy? Got yerself some nice assed fancy high heels?"
"Fuck off brother, ain't like that." Daryl shuffled on the bunk next to him and Merle risked a glance at him. His brother was scowling and he couldn't help but feel amused by it. Was good to see that he could still piss him off. But as much as it amused him, he wasn't really feeling in the mood to talk about the good fucking sheriff.
"You off huntin' today, boy? Seen the 'bow."
"Maybe," Daryl replied. "Was thinking might take Carol with me. She been stuck here too long with your miserable ass. Thought the break might do her good."
Merle stiffened in his seat at the mention of that. "You...taken her huntin' before?"
"Ain't been much since the prison. We used to at Hershel's farm. Even tried to teach her to use the crossbow once, but she liked the rifles better. Guns ain't much good fer hunting now, not with the walkers."
"Huh. So you spent a lot of time with her?" He couldn't stop himself from asking, even though he already knew the answer.
"Yeah," Daryl said softly. "You know I have, dumbass. What's with the questions?"
"Ain't nothin'. Just curious is all Darlina."
Merle sighed and leant his good shoulder to the wall, the movement jostling his other a little, and he couldn't help the small shudder that rippled through him as the pain poked at him. All the time that he had been away, first that rooftop, then when the Governor had found him and taken him back to Woodbury, he'd always wondered then, and even now what had happened to his little brother. It seemed now that Carol had played a bigger part in his brothers life than he'd originally thought. Maybe she had helped to bring him out of his shell a little, and the thought struck him then, that as much as she might have changed him, it was possible he had changed her too. She was never that timid little mouse he'd first seen at the quarry, hiding under her husbands shadow. Would they both had changed if he had been there?
Daryl watched him, and shifted in his seat to look at him in concern,"Do you want Carol?" he asked quickly.
"What?" Merle felt the breath choke up inside himself and he glanced at Daryl quickly, wondering what the hell he was asking, but he saw the even expression on his brothers face and he let the breath out softly.
"I can go get her if ya need her," Daryl insisted.
Oh...Merle wanted her all right, and it had nothing at all to do with bandages and antibiotics and shit. He hadn't had wanted her around at first- had resented her fussing over his ass when he was powerless to do any fucking thing about it, but now he had gotten used to her being around. To his initial horror and surprise he found that even though she irritated the shit out of him at times when she was there-when she wasn't? He missed her. He'd want her to come back for the most stupidest of reasons, wanted her to smile at him and make him feel that he mattered. That he mattered to her, even though she bust his balls to the point it made him angry and embarrassed, and then she would only have to smile at him to make his heart pound and his skin ache for her touch, no matter how goddamned brief it was.
Merle narrowed his eyes and looked at his brother, swallowing quickly, "Nah, I ain't needin' her for nothin'," he lied.
...
The sun was so bright it hurt his eyes, making him squint slightly against the bright onslaught that flared red behind his eyeballs. His face throbbed because of the squinting, and he had squinted because of the stupid sunlight and it made him feel altogether pissed off. His shoulder ached with every movement, and that was pissing him off, as much as the tight bandage around his stump, and he glared hatefully at those bandages-at the lack of his prosthetic arm. His hand ached too and as he glared at the sun, he couldn't recall ever feeling so goddamned useless.
He wasn't supposed to be out of his bed, out of his cell, especially after what happened the day before, but he had taken advantage of a moment alone to escape. Again. The frustration of just sitting on his ass all day was giving him mild cabin fever, and he desperately wanted to do something, any damned thing. He was sick of feeling useless, like a fucking cripple. He'd thought that getting outside in the sun would cheer him up a little, but it had done the reverse. He was feeling downright miserable and sore, and at any moment, nurse fucking Carol would be out looking for him to berate his miserable ass.
He looked up as he heard the squeal of a door hinge and he stifled back a groan as he saw her head pop around. Shit-there she fucking was. He watched her gloomily as she stepped further out, pulling that hideous long assed grey woollen thing she'd taken to wearing in the coolness of the autumnal air. Her eyes narrowed and as she frowned at him, he felt his mouth pull downwards sullenly. He stiffened his body, trying not to wince at the shooting pains, and readied himself for the verbal onslaught he knew was coming any minute now.
"What are you doing out here?" Carol glowered as she hastened across to him. "I've been looking for you. You know you shouldn't really be out here, especially on your own Merle, not after yesterday."
Huh. There it fucking was. He said nothing, choosing to turn his head from her to inspect the puffy little white clouds floating high across the light blue of the sky.
"What do I have to do to keep you in your bed?" she asked raising her eyebrows at him.
Merle smirked at that, he had a few damn good ideas, and judging from the look on her face, she'd only just realized what she'd said.
A faint pink hue tinted her cheeks, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "It's cold," she admonished him gently.
He huffed, took no genius to work that fucking out. He peered at her, her breath misting thinly into the air like a puff of steam from a frosty frigid dragon. He smiled at that, then winced as he felt the tightness pull at his mouth, tasting the blood as he burst the cut along his lip. The smile faded and he leaned forward, spitting a gobbet of bloodied saliva on to the concrete.
She rushed across to him and he froze as he felt both of her hands at his temples, gently pulling his head up to hers. Her blue eyes danced across his face, narrowing again as she saw the spots of blood on his lips and chin and before he could pull his head away, she was swatting at his skin with the cuff of the woollen monstrosity.
"Fuckin' leave it alone," he hissed, trying to pull his head away, glaring at her as she pushed his head back towards her firmly with one hand. "Ain't no goddamned baby."
"Then quit acting like one Merle. Jesus," her eyes dropped from his face and before he could retort back, she was leaning over him, her hand tugging at his sling, her fingers slipping under the material and readjusting it at his neck.
He swallowed thickly at the feel of her fingers at his skin, the way her touch sent little sparks that warmed his body and other places further south...and he shifted his head irritably, trying to inch away from her. His eyes dropped forwards, and he was suddenly very intrigued at that little dirt grimed blue vest that she wore-that gaped open ever so invitingly at her front. He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he took full advantage of her adjusting the sling, scooting his head a little further so she could tug the material at the nape of his neck, all the while his eyes peering greedily down her top. His mouth went dry as he spied the soft swell of her pale breasts held loosely in a battered old black bra, the material doing nothing to hide the vision before his eyes. He licked at his dry lips as he drank in the sight like he was dying of thirst in the desert, and he thought what he wouldn't give to shove that flimsy material aside and take a closer inspection with his eyes and mouth.
His head was pulled up abruptly and he felt her hands on his temples again, and he growled deep in his throat despite himself. He couldn't help but smirk as he saw those pretty blue eyes of hers widen, the light pink sheen that flushed across her cheeks again. She shook her head at him, then let him go while pulling the cardigan tighter about herself and sitting next to him on the bench.
"You had us worried yesterday," she said quietly, glancing at him.
He refused to met her gaze, and as much as he tried to think about what had happened, the more it eluded him. He'd had a vague memory of being at the fences, then next his brother was there and he'd hit out at him. Shame and remorse filled him at the thought.
He did remember why he'd been out there though-he remembered wanting a cigarette and not fucking well having one. Sitting up in his seat, he reached into his pants pocket, trying to tug the battered cigarette packet out, hissing irritably when his fingers slipped past them. It was damned fucking awkward trying to do it with just two damned fingers and thumb, the bandage hindering the full use of his hand. He frustratedly delved into his pocket again, knowing that she was leaning towards him, and he didn't have to look at her to see the concern on her face. Finally he got a grip on the packet and eased it out triumphantly, his fingers slipping on the cellophane wrapper and he watched as the cigarette packet tumbled to the floor, his grip awkward and stupid. He sighed angrily, kicking at the packet on the floor with one foot while trying to pull the lighter from his pocket and as he watched that clatter to the floor he angrily hissed, "Cock fucking mother bitch!"
Carols hand was on his knee, and she gave his leg a brief squeeze before letting go and kneeling at his feet to pick up the cigarettes and lighter. She glanced up at him and gave him a small smile, before returning to her seat next to him. He looked away from her, thrusting his jaw out angrily, ignoring the pain that stung at his face. He couldn't even get a smoke without making himself look like a fucking useless piece of shit in front of her.
He heard the flip of the lighter, saw a little puff of smoke blow past him in the faint breeze and he turned his head sharply, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her take a long drag from the cigarette. It dangled in her slim fingers and he watched as she raised it, watched with increasingly rapt interest as her lips parted slightly as she placed the cigarette back to her mouth. His eyes fell on her lips, and he felt the breath catch in his throat as he found himself leaning in closer to watch intently. The fucking woman was downright killing him and as he raised his bandaged hand he found to his alarm his hand trembled slightly, so he thrust it back into his lap, wincing in pain against the hurt. His heart was doing a damned odd little flutter, spiraling all the way to his stomach.
"Didn't know you smoked," he rasped thickly, cursing himself for the emotion lacing his voice. He stiffened, his eyes watching her warily.
"I did, but that was before Ed found another use for them," she said quietly, turning to face him, the small tight lipped smile she gave him not reaching her eyes.
Merle felt anger curl suddenly tight and vengeful in the pit of his stomach and he gave her a sullen look, wishing that the hateful bastard was still alive so he could beat the living shit out of him for every fucking thing he had ever done to this woman. "Ain't none ever gonna fuckin' touch you like that again, you hear me?" he spat at her. "Ain't no-one. I'll fuckin' kill 'em."
She blinked at him rapidly in surprise and then her hand was on his arm, carefully smoothing up and down briefly. He turned his head quickly away from her, his eyes flickering shut at the sensation. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to reaffirm that what he said he damn well meant. But all he could do was gaze down at his bandages ruefully.
He sighed miserably, then felt her hand drop from his arm and he suddenly held himself rigid as he felt her hand cup at his cheek, gently turning his head to face hers. He watched curiously as she placed the cigarette in his mouth, an impish smile on her face, and as he inhaled he swore he could taste her on the cigarette. The nicotine burst warmly through his veins, and he welcomed the buzz of the smoke as it sped through his blood.
"You shouldn't really be smoking those," she chided. Her hand was still resting against his cheek and he grunted as he took another long inhale, before blowing the smoke thickly from between his teeth. He let his cheek nuzzle further into her hand before twisting his head away, leaning further back into his seat, his legs straightening out before him. Goddamned that he'd missed a smoke.
Pulling the cigarette away briefly, he growled at her in amusement, "You're a bad influence."
Carol laughed brightly. "Well of all the things I've been called...but a bad influence on a Dixon?" She looked at him and smiled mirthfully.
"It's the truth sister." He raised an eyebrow mildly at her, "You can always jus' get on my lap, an' show me jus' how bad you wanna be," he smirked at the look on her face, the way her eyebrows shot upwards. "Hell, I'd let you have yer evil way with me."
She pursed her lips at him delicately before answering, and he thought he could see that slight blush tinge her cheeks again. "Really Merle."
He shrugged, then momentarily winced at the gesture. "Jus' saying what we're both thinkin', darlin'," he smiled, dragging on the cigarette before throwing it to the floor.
"You sure you didn't smack your head?"
Merle shifted slightly in his seat so he could face her better. "Ain't nothin' wrong with my head," he growled.
"I should let Hershel check you out," she teased.
"Huh. Don't need no ole man to 'check' me out. Much rather you do that. I ain't got no objections to that, none at all."
She smiled at him wanly, "I think maybe he should-"
"Fuck," Merle hissed, "You'd let me at the mercy of an ole senile veterinarian? Next I'd know he'd try an' fuckin' castrate me. An' that ain't gonna happen darlin', no way."
Carol looked at him thoughtfully, "Hershel has a lot more experience than I do."
"I prefer your bedside manner. An' your a damned sight prettier than he is. Reckon I 'bout fancy my chances with you." He couldn't help but smirk at her expression.
"You do?" she asked, glancing at him in surprise. "Well I don't know about-"
"I don't think 'bout kissin' him," Merle blurted out suddenly. He froze as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth.
Mentally he slapped himself upside the head, wondering what the hell had possessed him to say that. It was stupid, so stupid. The damned woman had finally gotten under his skin, and he'd never let any bitch do that to him before. Women had never really meant much to him at all, he'd only ever used them as an escape, as a release, and he was damned to hell that he'd ever actually let any of them get anywhere near him emotionally.
But, this with her? It was different, and he was starting to feel at a complete loss how to react, how to cope, and he almost hated her for that, for making him feel this way, clumsy and weak.
Silence fell heavily between them and as she turned to face him, he was stunned to see the earnest little look she shot him. He felt heat flush across his skin and he chewed at his lip, ignoring the sting of his mouth. The air between them sang suddenly and vibrantly, but he was damned if he knew what the hell it was all about. His heart fluttered in his chest and his hand fidgeted uncomfortably at his side. He groaned inwardly. Fucking hell, the thought of a damned kiss from her and it was turning him in to a soft headed pussy. Might as well just go and call himself Daryl, and save himself a whole lot of grief.
She sighed, her hands twisting restlessly and falling across her knees. "Don't stay out here too long Merle."
He frowned at her sullenly, "Don't need no bitch tellin' me what the hell to do, sweetheart."
She stood up abruptly and leaned across to him, her hand reaching out to his chest and snagging his shirt in her hand. His eyes widened as she pulled his shirt pocket open, dropping his cigarettes into it. Her hand smoothed delicately across his chest to rest lightly on his shoulder. She paused then, staring at him with an unfathomable expression, before reaching her other hand out and brushing her fingers softly across his cheek. Suddenly she leaned towards him again and planted a soft kiss to his mouth.
He couldn't help but flinch in disbelief at the contact, at the feel of her lips warm and unexpected against his. Cautiously, he kissed her, all the while his heart stupidly clamoring in his chest. Her hand was on his cheek, and he fought back the rising panic that this shouldn't be happening, he couldn't let it happen, no matter how badly he wanted it.
He pulled away from her reluctantly, watching her closely. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were fixed on his, a small smile playing about her mouth as she trailed her fingers down his skin, before pulling her hand back.
She shook her head at him mildly, "Quit the crap Merle. And get your sorry ass back inside before I go and get Daryl to do it. I'm sure he wont be as nice about it as I am."
Merle was aware that his mouth was hanging open in surprise and he snapped it tightly shut, watching narrowly as she turned and walked away from him. His lips still tingled pleasantly from their kiss. She stopped briefly to look back at him and smile, and he let out a shaky sigh as he watched the door close shut behind her, all the while wondering what the hell had just happened.
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