Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

a/n: This has been quite an awkward chapter to get started and write...more so as certain characters didn't want to do what I wanted them to do. But I did manage to reign them back in, and pull this chapter away from the angst that they seemed to want. Damned stubborn muses.

Thank you to everyone that is still here with me in this fic. I always appreciate your kind words.

...

The water hissed out of the shower, the sudden coldness of it prickling her skin and Carol rubbed at her arms, blinking the water out of her eyes as it run down her face, gazing in the semi darkness of the shower room. She saw a bottle of shower gel, and feeling a small pang of guilt at the owner for leaving it there, she used some to wash and soap herself, rubbing her fingers vigorously through her hair and scalp-all the while trying not to remember what had happened just a few mere hours ago.

She felt confused and anxious.

That she had lowered her guard so much to Merle made her question exactly had happened-what had brought them both to this point. But she had been heartbroken all over again when he'd gone to her, as she felt almost every single night, the dreams of her daughter flickering through her mind like broken sepia memories; the realization as always on waking that knowing that Sophia would be nothing more than a dream to her. And as much as she tried desperately to remember her before the turn...after the turn...at the quarry-the memory that she carried first and foremost, obscuring any other thought; was of Sophia stumbling out of that barn.

Carol turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower cubicle, clutching a towel. She wiped herself dry, and dressed in the fresh clean clothing she had brought with her, rivulets of chilled water dripping from her hair and running coolly down between her shoulder blades. Stepping towards a mirror, she wiped at it, her reflection fogging and misting in the pitted glass. She dragged the towel over her head, drying her hair quickly, frowning back at her reflection as she saw the wispy grey curls defying gravity and the smoothing motion of her hand, flattening then springing back up; a soft halo of fluffy curls.

She suddenly felt as ridiculous as she looked, gazing irritably at her own reflection.

Merle had long gone from her cell when she had awoken, and she had felt grateful for that. The only man she had ever really been with had been Ed, and she all to well remembered what it had been like every single morning, waking up next to him in their bed. The awkward conversations-fearfully choosing careful placating words to try desperately not to upset the precarious balance of things. The waiting to see if she would get punched or slapped, the waiting nervously for the next verbal onslaught.

Carol felt the breath well up in her chest, and she held her breath tightly, before slowly letting it out from her lungs. How Ed would make her feel. Worthless, degraded...and worse.

But this wasn't Ed. This was Merle...and she was thankful that he'd gone before she had awoken simply because she didn't know how to react, how he would react. Maybe Merle regretted everything. Maybe he didn't and he'd only used her for sex. She knew of his past reputation where women were concerned, and she half wondered if she had foolishly made a mistake.

He had been tender with her, careful, though-and it was something that she'd never imagined a man like Merle Dixon even being capable of. It surprised her and confused her.

Carol sighed regrettably. She just didn't know, and the not knowing made her feel something that she hadn't truly felt since the quarry, since before Atlanta. She felt vulnerable.

She paced into the laundry room, dumping her towel and dirty clothing into a plastic bin that served as a laundry basket where a pair of Rick's pants and one of Daryl's shirts and a small pink onesie lay. It had become an unspoken rule now since the people from Woodbury had joined, that each did their 'own families' laundry. Carol had subsequently inherited Rick, Carl and Judith for the time being. She'd always done laundry for Daryl-she had done so without question for as long as she'd known him, and now she wondered about Merle. What should she do. She had done for him, as she had done for Daryl in the past, but now...now everything was different.

Glancing around the room at the various 'baskets' she saw that nearly every one of them were about overflowing. Maggie and Beth did their own along with Hershel's and Glenn's. Michonne's and Andrea's clothing were dumped together, along with Tyreese and Sasha's, separately. She pursed her lips as she surveyed the room, making a mental note that after breakfast she would have to make a start. Maybe the monotony of the chore would help sooth and clear her mind for the first afternoon she was to spend with the children.

Carol turned from the laundry, stepping out of the room and into the corridor, trying to push back thoughts of Merle and Ed. She needed to focus. She'd had a sudden thought on what to do with Story Time, and it had nothing to do with books, or writing.

…

For a few hours every morning, the kitchenette area belonged to them, the original group and residents of C-block. And every mid-morning, the new residents of D-block would spill their way into their wing, taking over tables and floor space, the children running and playing haphazardly in corridors, the adults grouped together clucking and gossiping, the noise filling the block. Carol wondered why they did, but it felt more like the reason was because that C-block was the heart of the prison, and naturally everyone would feel drawn and would wish to congregate to the center and hub.

She never minded seeing the children, she liked to see them at a play. It brought a sense of an almost normality to every day. It was a reminder of the reasons why they fought as they did at every adversity that blocked and availed them.

Maggie caught her eye, and Carol went over to her, smiling a little at the young brunette as she stood stirring at a large pot.

"The masses haven't woken yet?" she asked, moving past Maggie and sorting through the mismatched and chipped crockery.

Maggie looked at her and smiled. "You know it won't be long. Carol, can you grab that bottle for Judith?"

Carol nodded, filling the bottle with spoonfuls of formula, taking the heated water off the boil for a moment to mix with the formula. She shook the bottle, mixing the contents. "Judith has been griping. Causing her father a few problems."

"It Isn't anything that we can't sort out between ourselves," Maggie shrugged.

Carol laughed as the other woman glanced at her. "It's been that way for a while. I don't think any of us mind. There's always a good excuse to take care of Judith. She's a good baby. A blessing to us all. Rick is lucky."

"We're all lucky," Maggie nodded, turning back to the oatmeal she was slowly stirring.

She watched as Hershel, and then Glenn filtered into the room, taking their places at a far table. "Always the men first," she confided quietly.

Maggie laughed as she glanced across to Glenn. "That is so true. I swear daddy and Glenn have this sixth sense where breakfast is concerned."

Carol looked across the room, watching as Glenn and Hershel sat at a table. There was no sign of the young blonde girl who usually accompanied her father. "Where's Beth?" she asked curiously, as she saw Merle suddenly appear, and she felt her mouth go dry and her heart lurch in her chest as he looked across to her, narrowing his eyes, a small smile touching his mouth.

Maggie put the spoon down and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Bethy? She's off somewhere with her new boyfriend, Zach... you know, young love and all that?"

Carol almost spluttered as she looked away from Merle, making Maggie glance at her quickly. "Oh God, I have no idea. Way too old for that," she said quickly.

Maggie laughed softly, "You're never too old," and Carol didn't miss the glance the other woman shot towards Glenn.

"We're all here?" Rick stepped into the room, dragging out a chair and sitting carefully, a semi-sleeping Judith held firmly in his arms.

"My baby brother ain't here, if yer asking Rick," Merle drawled lazily. He moved across the room, pausing as he passed by Rick, fixing him with a sudden glower. He waited until the former sheriff looked up at him, before grinning and stepping across towards where Carol stood with Maggie.

"He's still on a run with Michonne," Hershel said, adjusting his crutches against the edge of the table. "Tracking the Governor."

"Yeah," Merle muttered. "On a run with Mee'chonne. Real helpful ain't she? Tha mute. Accommodating my little brother like she does. Hell, yeah."

Rick ignored Merle. Instead he glanced across the room. "Now that we are here, I have a suggestion or two that I would like to put to the council."

Carol helped Maggie spoon breakfast into bowls, and distribute them. She paused by Rick, placing a bowl to his side, and proffering the now cooled bottle of formula, which Rick accepted with nod of his head and a murmured 'thank you'. Maggie took her place at the far table, sitting between her father and Glenn, and Carol watched as the younger man leaned towards her, an easy smile on his face.

"What are your suggestions, Rick?" Hershel asked, staring intently and leaning his arms on the table top.

Carol backed away from them all, preferring to put distance between them. She stared, then glanced away quickly as Merle came across, standing just behind her, his hand coming out unnoticed by anyone and resting at the small of her back. Her skin tingled at his touch, and as she looked at him, he raised one sardonic eyebrow, the lines at his eyes creasing mirthfully. His fingers caught and brushed roughly at her shirt.

"Morning, mouse," he smirked, before dismissing her to pay attention to the others.

Carol dragged her gaze from his, her heart thundering in her chest and ears.

"We need to make more supply runs." Rick's eyes drifted around the room. "Winter will soon be upon us. I know that we are inadequately prepared. I put it to the council, that we need supply runs to be focused on clothing, and increasing our food stocks."

Hershel hummed before answering. "I agree. The people of Woodbury, and our own group included, do not have sufficient clothing for the months to come. We will all need adequate clothing, blankets. It will be cold before we know it, and the Woodbury people only left with meagre belongings."

"I can go on more runs," Glenn said, ignoring the dig in the ribs that Maggie gave him. "What?" he said to her, before addressing the group. "I'm good on supply runs, I'm quick. I can do what needs to be done."

"Not on your own, Glenn," Maggie said quickly.

"Nobody is going on their own," Rick answered. "It will be the same as always. Several people to a run. I don't want any risks to our group-to our people."

Hershel nodded. "Same principals apply."

Merle huffed quietly at her side, and Carol looked up at him frowning. "I ain't gonna be no goddamned fuckin' good to anyone until the doc gives me the all clear on my shoulder," he said quietly to her, sourness tinging his voice. "Ain't able to use lil Merle yet."

Carol looked up at him quickly, her brow puckering. "Lil Merle?"

"Yeah, ya know. My arm prosthetic." He looked at her for a while, before smirking. "You know more than anyone darlin', there ain't nothin' else little about me."

She felt a blush burn at her cheeks and she laughed, bringing her hands up to her face as Rick and Hershel looked quickly towards her. "I'm sorry, please go on." She tried to ignore the Dixon man at her side, although her heart suddenly felt a lot lighter. Maybe everything was going to be fine, and she'd been fearing and stressing for nothing.

"Another issue, I'd like to address," Rick said clearly, "Is the issue of privacy, or the lack of."

Carol looked across at Rick, noticing that his eyes were now downcast. He clutched at Judith tighter, moving her in his arms.

"Is there an issue?" Maggie asked. "There hasn't been one before."

Rick laughed briefly, "Yes, I know. But that was before Woodbury joined us. We have a lot of children roaming freely throughout the prison. I feel that it would benefit some...I mean the majority of us."

Carol didn't miss that Rick shot a glance in the direction of her and Merle, before looking away, almost mumbling his next few words.

"A few blankets, tarps, or rugs at the cell doors would give us all a measure of security and privacy. I know it isn't much, but it isn't as if we can shut a door and shut the outside world out anymore. We need this. I know I do. Judith and Carl need this."

"It's a good valid point Rick," Hershel answered. The rest of the group murmured their assent. "We all need privacy, as much as we possibly can get. We live now in close proximity to one another. We have to try to maintain some sort of level of normality."

"I agree too," Glenn said, ignoring the quick look Maggie gave him.

"Then that's it. It's agreed," Rick answered quickly.

"Merle," Hershel asked, and Carol felt him stiffen beside her, his hand inching across the small of her back to her waist. She felt his fingers dig into her.

"What?" he said abruptly.

Hershel raised his head and stared across to him. "I'd like you to help me in the library. There are a few books I'd like your opinion on. Horticulture, herbology. I know you have knowledge from what you have told me at your time at Woodbury. I would value your input."

"Whatever," Merle rasped quickly. "I'll help ya all I can, ole-I mean...Hershel."

Hershel smiled at him, before turning to the others. "Is there anything else?"

Rick shook his head, resting the baby on his knee as she wailed suddenly. He poked the bottle of formula at her, smiling as she greedily sucked at it. "I don't think there's anything. For now?"

"Not until Daryl and Michonne get back," Carol answered. "I don't know...who knows what they've found. We can't say until they get back."

Merle grunted at her side, and she looked quickly at him. "I need'a see you, after all this shit," he said, frowning.

"Is that all?" Hershel waited a few moments. "I conclude this meeting over," he said, looking around the room, before reaching for his crutches.

Carol glanced up as Andrea stepped quickly into the room. "Did I miss anything?" she asked breathlessly. "I was on watch, with Scott."

"Ye didn't miss much," Merle said, grabbing at Carol's arm. He stared at her as she resisted him, her eyes on Andrea. "Mouse?" he questioned.

Andrea rolled her eyes at them, "I guess I'll try and catch up with Rick."

"Yeah...yeah you go an' do that," Merle answered succinctly.

Carol sighed as she watched the others depart from the room, before allowing Merle to tug at her arm and guide her outside into the empty courtyard.

She frowned at him, her heart beating a steady tattoo in her chest. "What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong." He pawed through his pocket until he found his smokes. He lit one, staring at her through a quick exhale of smoke. "Jus' thought you'd wanna talk. Ya know? Women like to talk shit an' stuff," he narrowed his eyes as he stared at her.

Carol watched him carefully as she bit at her lip. The doubts that she'd had that morning preyed on her mind to a degree, but from the look on his face, the way he stood rigidly next to her, warned her not to give voice to any of her concerns or doubts. She didn't want him to bolt and close himself up to her-and she feared that he might just do that.

"Huh. Yer gone quiet," he scowled suspiciously. "Gonna tell me ya regret it?"

"Good God no, Merle," she said, moving closer to him, "I don't regret that."

"Then what the shit is wrong?"

"I don't know. I thought about Ed earlier-"

"Ed? What the hell ya thinkin' 'bout that worthless piece of crap for? Huh?" he asked curiously, leaning towards her.

Carol sighed. "I had been thinking about him, remembering what life was like with him. I'm trying to forget it...all of it, but he was my husband."

"You ain't comparing me to him, are ya? What the hell?" he asked as he stared at her, frowning. His shoulders slumped wearily. "You are, aintcha?" He puffed at his smoke, before suddenly throwing it away. "I ain't nothin' like that bastard, Carol," he spat angrily.

She stepped forward quickly, grabbing at his arm. He let himself be propelled by her until he was close and she let go of his arm, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her head to his chest, feeling his heart thump quickly against her cheek.

"I wouldn't hurt ya," he said quietly, "I told ya that before." His arms went around her, pulling her into his embrace and she let herself sink into him.

"Merle?" she asked.

He sighed, before answering. "What?"

"I know," she said. "I know, now." He huffed at her and she felt a smile touch at her lips.

"So," Merle grunted after a moment. He watched her carefully, "Are we, huh...ya know, are we good?"

She looked up at him, reaching out her hand and touching at his stubbly cheek, placing a soft kiss against his lips. She felt him smile against her mouth, and she stood back slightly as she smiled up at him. "Yeah, we're good."

They both heard the car before they saw it, and they pulled away from each other. Carol watched as Merle strode from her over to the gate, where he waited, his hand resting against the metal linkings. The SUV slowly rumbled up, and he put his shoulder to the gate and pulled it open, his head turning and following the car in. He turned back and tugged the gate shut, linking the metal chain through and securing it.

Daryl flung open the drivers door and stepped out, smiling as he saw Carol. She went over to him, resting her hand briefly on his arm. "Everything okay?" she asked. "Are you okay, Daryl?"

He nodded, "Yeah, am a'right. Didn't find much, tho'. Same shit."

Michonne moved to the back of the SUV, pausing as Merle walked past her, then lifting the trunk and rifling through a box, before emerging jubilant and clutching several books to her chest. "Have a present for Carl. Is he around?"

Carol shook her head, "I haven't seen him this morning." She saw the other woman frown, and walked over to her. "What have you got for him?"

"Comic books." Michonne held them out. "I know the poor kid gets bored at times. Saw these and thought of him straight away." She held the books to her chest as she made her way into the prison.

"Who's the new guy?" Merle asked.

"We found him on the road. Was alone, didn't see anyone else," Daryl answered. He rapped on the back door. "C'mon," he called out. "Ain't none gonna bite ya."

The door pushed open slowly, and Carol watched as the man got out. He looked terrible. Dirty, disheveled and tired. But what struck her most was the weary sullen defeat in his brown eyes. He looked like he'd seen and lost a great deal.

She went over to him, standing slightly to his side, holding a hand out placatingly. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Stookey. Bob Stookey. So, this is your camp?" he turned his head, looking towards Daryl.

"Is home, yeah," Daryl shrugged.

"A prison. Nice. Safe." Bob glanced around quickly, his eyes roaming over the grounds and the main cell blocks.

Carol watched as Merle started to help his brother unload the supplies that they'd brought with them, stacking them in boxes on the ground. Merle caught her eye and he smiled and nodded, before clapping a hand on Daryl's back.

"So little brother. Ya puttin' the wood to the mute yet?"

"Fuck off Merle," Daryl spat irritably. "Ya big asshole."

Carol smiled at the brothers, before turning to Bob. "Do you want to come with me? I'll help you get settled. Show you where everything is, and if you have any questions-just ask."

She followed after Michonne into the prison, Bob trailing after her, and as she pulled the cell block door open, she heard an exasperated Daryl shout out.

"Merle...the fuck man? Ya got my damned smokes!"

...