Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead

a/n: Hah yes...while this piece of the last chapter was sitting in a folder on my desktop, I couldn't help myself but look it over and re-edit and write more to it, elaborating this piece somewhat...and then I went right over my word count. Again. So this is another one that is being split up into two parts-I have only to run some final edits on the last piece of what will be the next chapter.

In the next chapter a somewhat angsty Merle has to face up to some of his demons with Carol. And yes, there is smut too.

...

Evening was fast approaching as they pulled up to the barn in the SUV, and Merle strained his eyes in the dimming light as he got out of the car, shirking the collar of his jacket more firmly around himself. The chilly rain fell heavily and thickly, soaking and flattening his hair, droplets running coolly down his temples and cheeks, dripping icily down the nape of his neck. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the moisture as he stared at the barns padlocked and chained doors, wiping at his eyes and face with the back of his hand.

The barn was fair sized and loomed largely before them, casting dense shadows as he paced towards it. He stopped, pausing at the doors, hesitancy creeping over him at the sight of the thick chains holding the large wooden doors together. He cast a quick glance at Daryl, waiting as his brother came over.

"Ya think this is safe?" he questioned, reaching out his hand and jangling the chains lightly. He knew that their options were pretty limited now, and with night fast approaching, they had to find shelter, and this was the only viable option. No way in hell did he want to spend yet another night with them all cooped up together in the SUV.

Daryl looked at him, and it seemed to Merle that his brother was caught in a brief tidal moment, like he was almost remembering another barn not so long ago and what it had held inside. With an aching pang that he didn't quite wholly remember himself, (because he hadn't been there, no fault of his own...or so he tried to tell himself...he had been much less of a man back then, and more of a free loving, free and high as a damn kite kinda fucking jackass), Merle briefly recalled a small strawberry blonde girl with an enchanting sunny smile, wearing a blue T-shirt with a rainbow heart. All naivety and coltish innocence, until it had been tragically taken and ripped away. His heart still bled at the thought of the young girls mother.

"I dunno Merle," Daryl grimaced. "One way to find out." He went back to the car, opening the trunk and pulling out a crowbar. "Just be ready, brother," Daryl said, looking up quickly as the two women climbed out of the car. "Michonne, Carol. We ain't knowing what's in here," he warned.

Michonne nodded in understanding as she unsheathed her katana. She looked at Carol steadily as the other woman pulled out a blade from underneath her layers of clothing. Carol looked back at her with grim determination. "We're ready."

Merle stepped back a few paces, allowing his brother space to wrench the padlock and chains off the door. It took a few attempts, and Daryl was cussing under his breath, but eventually the chains fell to the floor in a loud jangling heap, the sound breaking the steady silence, the only other sound the whispering spatter of the rain as it fell.

Holding his crossbow, Daryl tentatively kicked at the door, waiting. When he heard nothing, he gestured for Merle to slowly pull the door open, sliding to the other side of his brother, squinting his eyes as he brought the crossbow up, focusing.

"Ain't nothing there," Merle said quietly, leaning in at the doorway, shining the flash-light in his hand into the dark interior.

Carol stepped over to Daryl, offering him another flash-light, her own held tightly in one hand, and with a quick look at one another, they slowly edged into the dark confines of the barn, Daryl gripping his crossbow firmly, his flash-light now clenched between his teeth.

Michonne stepped in after them, her blade in her hand, poised and ready for anything that might come out at them in the increasing darkness.

Merle heard Carol's quick sigh of relief next to him as they investigated the barn-it was pretty much bare, just a few splintered partition half stalls, a few bales of moldering straw, and an odd assortment of long forgotten and rusted agricultural implements and tools lining one far wall. There were no biters; no signs that the interior of the barn had been touched in a long time. A thin pathetic light filtered through the opened barn doors, barely lighting a quarter of the barns murky interior.

"See? It's going to be alright, sweetheart," Merle said quietly to Carol as they walked slowly back towards the entrance. He huffed as he watched as she made to follow after Michonne back towards the car.

Carol looked over her shoulder and frowned at him in the thin light. "What's going to be alright?"

He made his way over to her, wishing to hell that she would just quit walking away from him. Surely she could see that he wanted to say something... that he wanted to talk to her. Her casual aloofness was starting to bug the shit out of him.

He stood in front, looming over her and blocking her way to the car, and he narrowed his eyes as he heard her sigh under her breath. "This. Things. Ya know?" he said impatiently.

Carol looked at him for a moment then shrugged, "No, Merle. I don't know."

Merle was aware that Daryl was watching them intently, and he glanced quickly away from his brother, to look back at Carol. Her hair was damp from the rain, and he could see the small curls already trying to poke up on her head, like an angry little halo. He leaned closer to her, and brought his hand out to touch at her hair, watching as she stiffened in surprise at his touch. She raised her eyes to his, cool chips of icy blue that should have frozen the blood in his veins as she stared back at him just as narrowly, but he ignored her frosty demeanor- instead, he ran his fingers softly from her hair to her cheek, then down along her jaw, cupping her chin and bringing her head up to meet his.

She was so close that he wouldn't have to lean down too much to crush her lips under his, and Merle swallowed thickly at the thought, all sense and reasoning starting to quickly evaporate. Her hand was resting on his arm, and he was half expecting that she was just going to push him away, but she didn't. They both stood staring at each other for several long seconds, before the sound of Michonne slamming a car door woke them from their joint stupor.

Carol broke his gaze, and looked away, "What was it that you wanted, Merle?" she asked, shakily.

He blinked rapidly, frowning. "I...huh...I was jus' gonna say that if yer cold later, mouse- you can always come an' sneak under my blanket," he paused, slowly smirking as she glanced quickly back at him, her cheeks starting to glow. "I'll help warm you up."

She raised her eyebrow at him, "I will bear that in mind-if I get cold enough." Her hand dropped from his arm, and she moved away from him, Merle standing aside to let her go, and he was so busy watching her that he didn't notice his brother come along and stand near, only realizing when Daryl poked him in the ribs, hard.

"What the hell's that for?" Merle grunted.

Daryl shook his head, "You, ya dumbass. It's gonna take more than that to stop her bein' pissed with yer ass."

"I know." Merle replied, "I was jus' being helpful an' charitable. Said I'd help get her warm."

"Hell Merle, I heard what ye said," Daryl grimaced.

"Whatever, little brother." He watched Carol as she helped Michonne gather their belongings from out of the trunk of the SUV. He wondered how long it would take for him to knock down the stupid barrier she had erected between them, and it annoyed him that she'd felt the need to do so. He hadn't meant shit when he'd gone on at her-in fact it had meant the opposite. She was starting to make him feel miserable, and it was a feeling that he damn well wasn't used to. Women had never made him feel like this...yet he was finding himself being all consumed with the want and desperate need to put things back together-no matter how alien it was to him.

Damned stupid fucking woman. She would have been far better off without him. Merle knew he wasn't good for anything, hell-he had been gone and told her that same damned thing countless times, but she hadn't bothered to listen. She would have been better off without him...and better off with Daryl. His baby brother had always been the better one, the sweeter, the kinder and the more gentler brother. The type of man that she truly deserved.

Merle had always known that he was the wrong brother for her. Everything about himself was just all so very fucking wrong.

…

"Ya reckon we need to light a fire or summat, Darlina?" Merle asked. "I need to dry my clothes. My jacket is damn well soaked through," he grumbled.

Daryl shone the flashlight upwards, noting the high vaulted roofing, the thick beams high up. He nodded quickly, "Yeah, think it will be fine, brother. S'long as we keep a watch on it-we don't need ta burn the barn down round our ears while we rest up."

"I saw some large rocks outside while we were getting our gear. We could make a ring of them, help to contain the fire?" Michonne suggested.

Merle shrugged, "I'm on it brother." He moved across the barn, shoving the door open and noting with disdain the heavy curtain of icy rain. "Ain't like I'm 'bout to get any fuckin' wetter."

"Wait up bro, I'll come give ya a hand," Daryl replied, pausing cautiously and watching him warily.

"Yeah, an' like that joke ain't getting any older," Merle grunted. "C'mon, what the hell ye waiting for, ya lil pansy."

"Fuck off, Merle," Daryl retorted, smirking a little as he stepped into the rain with his brother.

It took them an hour or so to find and then lug the heavy stones into the barn, then make a ring large enough to contain a fair sized fire. Carol had been hoisting down battered splintered panels of wood, and Michonne was breaking them up into kindling, shoving large sized pieces to one side for later use.

...

Merle watched as Daryl pulled of his sodden poncho, the rain water running rivulets down his leather jacket and vest. His own jacket was soaked through, and irritably he'd had to wrestle with sodden stiff leather strappings to unbuckle his prosthetic, waving away any offer of help with annoyance. Finally he tugged the limb off, placing it carefully on the ground next to his feet, before trying to shirk and tug the sodden garment off. The material was so wet that it clung to him like a second skin, and Merle could feel his temper rising and starting to snap, before Carol came over and tentatively touched at his arm.

He narrowed his eyes at her, angrily trying to tug the arm of his jacket from off his stumped arm.

"Merle?" she asked softly, placing her hand on his, quelling his movements. "Please," she sighed. "Don't be so damned stubborn. Let me help you."

"I ain't needing no fuckin' help," he snapped bitterly.

"You're not asking, Merle," she smiled a little at him, and Merle found to his discomfort that he couldn't help but relent at the soft look that she gave him. "But I'm offering. I want to help."

"Alright," he said tersely, sighing. He glanced across the barn, quickly checking to see if his brother or Michonne could see her helping him, and he felt relieved when he saw that they had their backs to him and were otherwise preoccupied; Daryl hanging his poncho over a badly leaning partition wall, Michonne sorting through handfuls of straw.

"I ain't no fuckin' cripple," he rasped quietly to Carol. "Ya know I damn well don't need anyone to help me."

She shook her head at him as she tugged one sleeve away, stepping behind him to tug at the other sleeve before dragging the jacket from off him. "I know you aren't Merle. I've never said that you were."

Merle looked at her thoughtfully. She was right of course, she had never once viewed him in that way. She had never treated him any differently to how she had treated anyone else. "I know," he replied softly. "Was jus' checkin' ya, is all."

Carol rolled her eyes at him, holding his sodden jacket against her chest. "I'll place this with Daryl's to dry. If that's alright with you?"

He nodded again, watching as she moved away. She confused him to hell and back. It always felt like just when he thought that he'd had her all figured out, she would go and do some shit he didn't completely understand.

It didn't take long to get the fire lit and started, and Daryl was busy skinning and gutting the squirrels and skewering them on pieces of doweling that Carol had found at the back of the barn. The squirrels were then placed on a makeshift frame set above the fire, to roast. Daryl swatted his arm at his brow, his hands inky with blood as he started to work on the rabbit.

"I found some straw that wasn't completely icky and smelly," Michonne said as she took her place next to the fire, sitting with her arms crossed over her knees, holding her hands out to the low flames of the fire. "Thought would be good enough to use as bedding, at least as some sort of a mattress. God only knows after the last few days that we could all use a bit of comfort."

Merle shifted on his spot at the fire, half noticing that Carol looked at him quickly with concern. His shoulder felt sore, and he wondered if he'd over done it-shifting those rocks hadn't helped much at all. He only felt thankful that Hershel wasn't sat there with them-the old man's eye sight was razor sharp, and he would have noticed the discomfort Merle was experiencing, and more than likely-he would have been there berating his miserable ass for over exerting himself.

"You okay, brother?" Daryl asked, looking at him, his brow furrowing under his thick fringe of hair.

"Fine. Jus' my shoulder's aching a bit. It ain't nothin'," Merle grunted.

"You need a massage," Michonne declared. "To help with the stiffness of your muscles."

"Maybe," Merle agreed reluctantly, glancing at Carol, and half wondering if she would be tempted to help him with this. And if she offered? Merle certainly wasn't about to go and refuse her.

Michonne made to move to her feet, linking her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. "I can give you a massage, if you want. I'm fairly good, or so I've been told in the past," she smiled.

Merle sat back in his seat, his eyes widening. "Huh... now don't ya go an' be takin' this the wrong way Michonne- but yer built like a goddamned Amazonian warrior, and I happen to like my body in one piece. I ain't wantin' my arms ripped off. I'd much prefer a softer approach."

"A'right Merle," Daryl tiredly stood up, wiping the blood off his hands onto the thigh of his pants.

Merle looked at his brother in alarm, "Shit Daryl, I ain't meaning you either, ya dumbass. Sit the hell back down."

Carol got to her feet, and patted Daryl on the shoulder. "I think, he is meaning me." She looked across at Merle and almost smiled at him.

"Ya got that right, darlin'. Come here an' sort me out," Merle leered. He found he couldn't help himself, and he was instantly rewarded with her cheeks suddenly reddening. "Jus' go gentle with me."

Carol padded over to him, standing just behind and placing her hands on his shoulders, her fingers softly digging in to his skin through his damp shirt. "That feels so damn good," Merle almost purred.

She laughed a little, "I haven't really done anything yet."

"Well, what yer waiting for, woman. C'mon...sort me out."

She paused before she started kneading at his skin, and he closed his eyes to the feeling of her so close behind him, her fingers digging and touching at his skin. Michonne was damn right. He found that he really did need this massage. Carol's hand traveled across his shoulder, touching then softly pushing and pulling at the sore muscles of his previously wounded shoulder. He bit back a yelp as she dug her fingers in, kneading him.

"God Merle, you really are stiff and knotted," Carol frowned behind him.

Merle smirked, "Hell yeah, ya better believe it. An' when ya finished there darlin'...I got summat else stiff and knotted that needs massaging-"

"Shit!" Daryl yelped out suddenly, and Merle opened his eyes, gazing at his brother narrowly. Daryl was sat on his haunches, sucking at his fingers as he propped back one of the skewered squirrels. He glanced at Merle and shook his head, muttering 'dumbass' under his breath.

"Ya got a problem there, Daryl?"

"Pffft. No I ain't Merle. But shit brother, will ya keep yer voice down, huh?"

Merle glowered at him, watching with amusement as Daryl averted his eyes from both him and Carol. She dug her fingers into him a little too harshly, and Merle glanced over his shoulder, "What the hell was that for, mouse? I told ya to be gentle with me."

"I heard you the first time, Merle. Now will you stop fidgeting?" she answered.

He sighed as she resumed her work on his muscles, trying to allow himself to relax under her ministrations. Her fingers were doing a wonderful job on him, and he slumped against her as she continued kneading his skin and muscles.

"There. All done," she said finally after a few moments, patting his shoulder, and Merle was disappointed when she moved away from him.

"Yer finished?" he asked sharply.

"Mhm," she said, as she sat next to him near to the fire, careful to keep a small amount of distance between them.

Merle couldn't help but feel a little sour about that-but at least she was actually sitting next to him, and not looking at him from across the other side of the barn. He wondered if some progress had been made. He hadn't forgotten what he had said to Daryl earlier. The Merle charm just needed more time and more opportunities to present itself.

"Squirrels done," Daryl said after a moment, "But shit...there ain't enough. Not even with the rabbit."

"I don't mind, I'm not all that hungry," Carol replied.

Merle glanced at her, "I don't give a damn. Yer eating, woman. Daryl, give her mine. Or I'll share. What fuckin' ever."

Daryl leaned across and handed him one of the skewered squirrels. Merle looked at Carol and offered it to her, frowning and thrusting it at her until she reluctantly accepted. She pulled tiny little bits of it and chewed.

"Well. Ain't this nice," Merle said quietly.

Carol looked at him and frowned, as she handed him back the squirrel. "What is nice?"

"Me," Merle smirked. "Look -I'm sharing my squirrel with ya."

Merle glanced up at the sound of sudden coughing, watching narrowly as Michonne raised a hand delicately to her mouth. He glared at her for a few seconds, before twisting his gaze from her to look back at Carol.

"I would hardly call this nice," Carol answered shortly.

"Oh c'mon, give me a break sweetheart. It ain't like I share my squirrel with jus' anyone."

"I should be flattered?" Carol asked, her mouth slightly pulling up at one side.

"Damn right ye should," Merle grinned.

Daryl rolled his eyes at his brother, as he handed Carol some chunks of skewered rabbit. She smiled back at him and mouthed a quiet 'thank you'. She took a few paltry pieces for herself, before handing the rest to Merle. They ate in silence, washing the meat down with the few precious bottles of water that they had left stored in safekeeping in the back of the SUV.

Michonne yawned suddenly, then glanced at them apologetically. "I'm going to hit the proverbial hay, if you all don't mind?" she questioned.

"Nah, go ahead," Daryl replied. "I'm gonna stay a while, keep watch. Merle, Carol? Go and get some rest."

"I'll stay with you Daryl, I'm not that tired really," Carol said, watching as Michonne got to her feet and made her way some distance away from the fire, where she'd made some piles of straw into rudimentary mattresses, their bedrolls laid on top some distance apart.

Merle grumbled to himself as he watched Carol grab at her blanket, hoisting it over her shoulders and wrapping it around herself. "Ain't tired either," he said stubbornly.

They sat in silence staring at the flames of the fire, watching it crackle and snap as Daryl laid a few more small planks of wood into the depths of the fire. A comfortable silence and peaceful solitude reached over them, broken when Carol suddenly rose to her feet, "I'll go and get some more fire-wood," she said softly.

Merle watched as she padded off into the darkness, and he glanced quickly to his brother, before getting to his feet. "I huh...I'm gonna go an' help Carol get some wood," he said, smirking to himself.

...