Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
a/n: This is a longer than average chapter-my apologies for that. There was just no way to break this one up into smaller pieces.
(Posted this-and I totally forgot to put a warning on this chapter, and while I was doing that, I also found and caught up on a few minor edits that I've tweaked, so everything is done and sorted now).
So hmm yeah- warning for smut, and angst.
As always, a big thank you to everyone still with me. It means so much.
…
Merle knew that there were no biters in the barn, but even so, Carol had annoyed him once again by being so damn willful and striding off into the dark on her own. It was like she hadn't learnt any damned thing from her run in with that biter at the house. Merle...for more than one or two reasons of his own, had followed after her. Part of it was the fact that he hadn't wanted to let her from out of his sight, and he knew it was because he was worried that something that happen to her, and if he wasn't there? He quickly shoved that thought to the back of his mind-it didn't pay to dwell on shit like that.
Carol turned and looked at him in surprise, "I'm quite capable of doing this alone, Merle. Thank you," she said abruptly.
Merle sighed, "Oh c'mon mouse, let's not do this, huh?"
"Do what?" she answered, turning away and picking at a few pieces of splintered wood laying on the straw filled ground.
"This," Merle grunted, suddenly feeling awkward. Now that he finally had her alone from the others-everything that he had been wanting to say-to tell her, dried harshly and choked in the back of his throat.
He watched her for a moment, before he dragged his eyes away to gaze around the barn. The faint light of the fire drifted thinly across to them, causing thick shadows to shift and bounce off the darkened wood paneled walls. A large bale of straw lay in the corner-it's bindings rotten and peeling away; the straw spewing out and drifting across the dirt floor. Merle paced over to it, sniffing briefly, and wondering if there was any vermin hiding in the thick coarse straw, and half wondering if there was-would he be quick enough to catch and kill it. Half a pathetic squirrel and a few pieces of mangy rabbit was not enough to fill anyone's stomach, and he worried that Carol wasn't eating enough. Damned woman was starting to look too scrawny.
He kicked at the bale with his boot, listening for any sounds of life, turning and raising his eyebrow as Carol watched him- a small degree of amusement lining her face.
"Why did you follow me, Merle?" she sighed after a moment.
"It's a free country, last time I heard," he grunted. "Maybe I jus' wanted to talk to ya."
She pursed her lips tightly, glancing away and staring at the small pieces of wood in her hands. "There's nothing to talk about. I told you, I'm capable of getting a few pieces of damn firewood. I certainly don't need you here Merle, you should just go."
Merle curled his lip, pacing quickly over to her, and before she knew what was happening, he had grasped the collar of her shirt, pulling and tugging it down. He stared angrily at the two thin lines of scabs running down the side of her throat, trailing his fingertips roughly down them. "Yeah," he growled. "Ya don't need me, sure. Like ya didn't fuckin' need me then. I saved yer goddamn ass, you stupid ungrateful woman."
She pulled away from him, clasping the small pieces of firewood tightly to her chest and angrily tugging her collar back up around her neck. "That wasn't my fault. For God's sake Merle, are you really going to throw that at me any damn chance you get?"
"I ain't throwing nothin' at ya darlin'. Don't you get it?" he rasped wearily. She was starting to piss him off-couldn't she see that he was worried for her? "You could have been killed," he grated out impatiently.
Carol looked at him, and Merle found that he was unable to read her expression in the dim light. He stepped a little closer to her, his hand reaching out. He wanted to pull her to him, to hold her and let her know just how badly scared he had been for her, but he let his hand fall short-snagging it back and rubbing at the thin beard covering his chin instead. He couldn't tell her and let her know. It wasn't in his nature. Maybe before, back at the prison he might have done so, but it seemed that things had changed between them now, and the uncertainty that he'd felt with her before crowded his mind. He found that he couldn't bear it if she pushed him away again.
Even so, he stubbornly wasn't ready to give up. He would try again, and try to desperately swallow the bitter feeling rising in his throat. He took a deep breath, "We need to talk."
She looked up quickly in surprise, frowning. "I don't think there's anything left to say, Merle. You made that abundantly clear when we were back at Woodbury."
"Ya don't know any damn thing, Carol," he hissed quickly.
She stared at him, before twisting her eyes away and glancing in the direction of Daryl and the fire. The sounds of popping burning firewood reached them through the silence. "I think it's best if I go, Daryl needs-"
Merle felt pissed if he was going to let her run from him yet again. "Will ya jus' fuckin' leave that?" he barked, watching as she made to move past him with the few paltry pieces of wood clasped to her chest. "Daryl can damn well wait, but this...this can't wait no more."
He stared at her, waiting to see if she would just go, but she stood there hesitantly, waiting. He took a few paces from her, before lowering himself down to the ground, sitting in the thick musty smelling straw. He drew his legs up and rested his arms across the tops of his knees.
"Carol," he said, gesturing for her to sit next to him, and grunting irritably when she refused. He sighed again, seeing that she wasn't going to make this easy on him, and he found that a small part of him didn't really blame her for that. "I've been an' done alot of shitty things that I ain't proud of, before an' after," he said quietly, staring at the ground between his dirty mud grimed boots.
Carol watched him, before placing the pieces of wood to the ground and reluctantly sitting next to him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She raised her head and glanced up at him curiously. "What is it?" she asked.
Merle looked at her and saw the questions shining in her eyes. He knew then, that this moment between them-right now, could possibly define anything that was left between them...and that she wanted answers, and that she needed to know them- no matter how much he didn't want to acknowledge them. With a sinking feeling, he knew that all of this stemmed from Woodbury and from what Scott had threatened to tell her. But she deserved to know something, no matter how small. He tried to fight down the sudden bout of rising panic gripping him. He knew all to well that he could finally lose her for good if she knew half of what he'd done-and he didn't want that to happen.
He frowned and glanced away, his eyes fixed rigidly and unseeingly on the far wall, before answering slowly. "The biter pit that ya saw earlier? What went on there, yeah. I had a part to play in that."
She shifted nervously in her spot on the ground next to him, waiting.
"No, I weren't there when the Governor first wanted it done...but, shit... I did play a part in what happened later. An' I ain't proud of it, Carol. I ain't proud of none of it," he said, shaking his head and looking at her warily.
"What happened Merle?" she asked a little breathlessly, her eyes slowly raising up to meet his. "What did he...what did the Governor want those pits for?"
Merle laughed, but there wasn't a glimmer of humor in his voice. "Originally? Ya want to know?"
She only nodded in response, her eyes wide and fixed on his.
"The Governor would have anyone that questioned his authority put to them pits when he first took over Woodbury, in the earlier days."
"What do you mean?" Carol asked half fearfully, but it seemed that she had already guessed what he begrudgingly wanted to tell her.
Merle huffed quietly, "Exactly what I'm tellin' ya. Anybody that he wanted rid of...anyone that he figured was a liability to him an' his leadership-he'd send them there. Feed 'em to the biters that he'd already trapped. It weren't pretty...an' shit Carol. Hell...there ain't no easy way to say this, but I took those people there. I helped send those that he didn't want round no more to those pits."
She didn't say anything, just kept on staring at him, and Merle squirmed uneasily in his seat at her gaze. He didn't want to tell her that there was a lot more to it than that. He didn't want to tell her about Blake's treasured little collection that he'd kept in those damned back lit fish tanks in his private quarters, and that he himself had gathered a few of those gruesome trophy's. He remembered it all to well, taking the few heads that Blake had deemed precious, tossing the decapitated bodies into the biter pits along with the living. That the head that the Governor had prized more dearly over any other had been the woman that was now laying on a bedroll fast asleep not so far from them and oblivious to what Blake had commanded Merle to do. Oh yeah, he had plenty that he didn't want to tell her, and plenty that he still felt sick and ashamed about. It haunted his dreams damned well enough.
"I've done worse. Alot worse than that. I've killed people," he grunted uncomfortably. "Innocent people that didn't know no better than to cross him." He risked a glance at her, seeing that she'd looked away from him, biting at her lip, and Merle feared that the more that he'd tell her...the more she would just push herself the hell away from him. He felt sick all over again. He couldn't escape his past...he couldn't escape any fucked up decision he'd ever made in his damned cowardly worthless life. It was all coming back to haunt him, and there was precious fucking little that he could do about any of it. He would lose her- like he'd lost every damn thing that had ever mattered to him. He would just have to accept it and move the hell on. It was part of who he was, part of the curse of being a Dixon.
Carol sighed, staring down at her hands. "Why?"
"Ya gotta understand, Carol. After Atlanta, after Rick fuckin' handcuffed me-I thought I had nothin' left no more. I'd lost everything. I thought Daryl had been an' gone left me for good. Blake, he found me... I was fucked up an' in a shit of a mess, an' he took me in, fixed me up. I was in hell of a bad way. I was coming off the drugs, I'd cut my own fuckin' hand off for Christ's sake. Blake...the Governor...he gave me a new life. A new start. I had to fit in...otherwise," he trailed off.
"Then you did what you had to do to survive...to live, Merle," she answered softly, still not looking at him.
"It ain't no damn fuckin' excuse," he replied angrily.
Carol raised her head and looked at him, the fire in the distance sending little sparks that lit and warmed the cool icy blue of her eyes. "You're not that man anymore."
"Ya can't be knowing that. I did what I had to do, what I was told to do, yeah. But I can't fuckin' promise that I wouldn't do the same shit all over again. An' what does that make me, huh?" he demanded. "I told ya before...an' I keep tellin' ya that I ain't no fuckin' good, an' I mean it, Carol. Ya jus' need to keep the hell away from me. I'm bad fuckin' news," he said bitterly.
She glanced back down at her hands, and Merle watched her warily. He knew damn well that she wouldn't look at him in the same light if she knew half of what he'd done. She was going to turn away from him, and Scott was right after all. He didn't deserve any fucking thing, least of all anything half as as good as her-he was nothing more than a cowardly shit that stupidly obeyed orders that he didn't have the guts or stomach to question. He clenched his teeth angrily, lowering his head to stare rigidly at the ground.
He blinked quickly in surprise as she suddenly leaned against him, her hands reaching out and softly clasping his cheeks. She gently turned his head up to face hers, the blues of her eyes fixed brightly on his. "Oh, Merle. You stupid man. You are wrong. So very wrong. This? All of this? It makes you a survivor."
Merle wanted to twist his head away from her, to turn away from her gaze but she held him firmly. He found that he couldn't answer her anymore.
"Is this about Scott? What you didn't want me to know about?"
Merle huffed. He didn't want to admit to anything else, but her eyes caught and compelled him. "A little... yeah. Yeah it is. So fuckin' what?" He shrugged. "I told ya Carol-I've done worse." He tried to appear nonchalant, like he didn't give a damn, but the truth of it was that he was scared. "So what now?" he asked, his breath catching in his throat.
She rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks, before leaning to him and pressing her mouth to his, her lips brushing lightly over his. She leaned back and smiled sadly at him, one hand resting on his shoulder, her other still cupping his cheek. "This? It's a start, Merle" she said quietly.
"I ain't no good, mouse," he warned.
"You keep saying that, but I know you're wrong. I've seen who you've become...who you can be. We've all had to do bad things-and I know some of us more than others, but this...this world doesn't allow for weakness anymore. I know, I've seen it for myself," she sighed. "I've seen you try to change, to try to make a difference, and I know it hasn't been easy for you. The point of it is-you haven't given in, Merle. Maybe most others would have done so by now-but not you."
"Maybe I ain't got much of a chance no more," he answered brusquely. "I ain't got nothin' left. I don't deserve any fuckin' thing."
"You have, and I don't believe that for one minute," she answered sincerely.
"Why the hell are ye doin' this Carol, huh? Are ya feelin' fuckin' sorry for me? 'cause I ain't wanting yer goddamned pity," he spat.
"Do you really think that I'm here with you out of pity?" she retorted, her brow puckering as she stared at him. "That I'm doing all of this out of pity? After what happened at Woodbury -I honestly thought that you didn't give a damn-"
"Yer fuckin' wrong if yer thinking that, Carol," Merle rasped quickly. "Yer so damn wrong."
"I didn't know then Merle, and you wasn't about to say anything to me either. In fact? You didn't speak to me at all. I thought that whatever...hell, I don't know. I guess I thought that whatever was going on between us was over." She looked at him unhappily, trying to fight back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "What do you want from me, Merle?"
He frowned, glancing away from her and staring at the thick shadows that stretched and reached across the far corners of the barn. His heart started to beat an irregular tattoo deep in his chest. Slowly and reluctantly he raised his eyes to hers. He had often thought in the past that he could possibly sink in those fathomless blue eyes of hers, and as he stared at her- he knew then that he was lost and that he was drowning, and there wasn't a single damn thing that he could do about it anymore.
The sudden realization hit him- there could be no more hiding, or skirting around the issue. Even if he couldn't say or express just how damn much he cared for her, he knew that he had to let her know somehow. He couldn't run or hide anymore. It was high time for him to nut the fuck up and say what was on his mind. He didn't want to lose her-he really didn't want that to happen. And as much as his brother cared for her, and Merle was under no illusion of that -his brother didn't love, or care for her in the way that he did.
Merle sighed bitterly, wondering why the hell she was even still sat here with him after what he had told her about Woodbury. He reached out his hand and touched at her cheek, his heart thumping pitifully in his chest.
"I've got a shit load of regrets for every damn stupid thing that I've ever done in my life. But you...you ain't never been one of them. You want to know what I want? I want you," he said fearfully, hating himself for finally showing and revealing his weakness to her.
She leaned against him suddenly, her mouth pressing urgently against his, and he wasn't quite sure what the fuck had just happened...but her hands were pressing against him and slipping under his shirt, her hands cool against the warm burn of his skin. He shuddered as her fingers trailed across his scars, and he broke away from her, his lips almost burning from her kiss. She met his gaze evenly, not questioning, just accepting and he pulled her closer, pressing her to him, letting her know just how much he ached for her touch, her contact. He caught her mouth again, pressing his lips firmly against hers, his tongue pushing at her lips. She kissed him back with an equal passion, her lips parting under his, and he couldn't stifle the small groan as her tongue slipped into his mouth.
He wondered for a moment, if they should be doing this-what with Daryl and Michonne the other side of the barn from them, but then he found that he didn't really want to think about any damn thing no more as he felt her fingers flutter at his waist.
He scooped her up in his arms, her hands slipping up his chest and clasping tightly around his neck, and he moved across the barn towards the thicker shadows, tumbling them both down into the thick heady smelling straw.
He kissed her jaw, her neck, her throat...his lips trailing hot wet kisses over her skin. His hand slipped under her shirt, roughly pushing irritably at the layers of under shirts, and he cocked an eye brow at her in question. The sheer amount of clothing that she wore felt like she was still trying to put a distance between them. But as he looked at her, she smiled almost shyly, and Merle felt his heart lurch at the soft look she gave him.
His hand inched and smoothed its way across her soft warm skin until he found the strap of her bra, and he smirked at her small gasp as he unfastened her with one swift motion, his fingers trailing roughly across her skin, brushing against the firming bud of her nipple. He leaned down to her, his hand pushing irritably at her garments, pushing and shoving them up, the flat of his tongue on her skin, slowly sliding up the flat plain of her stomach, to the small valley between her breasts. His hand caught out and caressed one nipple roughly, as his tongue licked and swirled over her other. She arched against his touch, her hand curling around his head, her fingers kneading through his hair and scratching at his scalp.
She pulled him up to her, her hands briefly cupping his face, drawing him to her and kissing him, her mouth opening under his again as he slipped his tongue in, and he felt her fingers drop from his cheeks and trail down his chest, before they fluttered over his waist as she started to tug at his belt, at the button of his pants. His erection strained painfully at the material of his pants, and he longed for her to free and take care of him.
He closed his eyes as her hand slipped into his boxers, her cool slim fingers grasping him firmly, and he growled as she softly and slowly rubbed the tip of one finger against the dampening slit of his dick. Her hand grasped him, sliding downwards along his length.
"Ya know yer gonna goddamn kill me one day," he hissed, as she gripped him more firmly, her hand moving slowly and tantalizingly up and down, the taut friction of her hand on him causing the blood to boil thickly in his veins.
She smiled against his mouth, as her hand slipped from him to cup and caress his balls. He groaned against her, wanting nothing more than to rip the clothing from off her, but he contented himself with fumbling at the button of her pants.
She shifted against him, then moved away, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed as her hand slipped away from him. He frowned up at her, laying on his back in the thick musty smelling straw, and then he smiled as she tugged off her pants and underwear. He tried to help her as much as he could, with his stupid awkward hand, but she just smiled and swatted him away. He found he didn't mind so much as he watched her shrug her clothing away. He had better uses for his hand anyway.
It was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing hold of her roughly and shoving his way over the top of her as she lay back down next to him. Her hands were shaking as she undid the few buttons of his shirt, and he groaned as her hands slipped underneath his dirty wife-beater, pushing against his chest, before smoothing their way across his nipples. He slithered his hand downwards, across the soft skin of her thighs, before dipping and cupping her, feeling her hot dampness against his palm. He slipped one finger in, feeling her slick hotness grip him, then he pushed another finger in, moving his hand against her.
"Merle," she gasped quietly, pressing her face to his shoulder and he increased the tempo of his fingers, his breath rasping and painstakingly short in his throat. He'd thought it before, and he thought it now...he doubted he'd ever known anyone quite so beautiful as her, and the fact that she would even let an ugly miserable asshole like himself anywhere near her, especially now...especially after what he had been and told her.
But the gasp of his name from her lips so close to his throat, vibrating softly against his skin, was suddenly sending him down a spiraling path. He nipped at her collar bone, his mouth trailing down her skin, sucking and biting at her, and as he felt her start to tighten and clasp about his fingers he knew that he wasn't about to let it go down like that...not fucking yet. He moved his hand away reluctantly and looking down at her, he brought his hand slowly back up to his mouth, sucking and licking at his fingers, tasting her on his skin.
"You taste so damn fuckin' fine, mouse," he growled, smirking at her sudden look of embarrassment-her face flushing a vivid shade of red.
He pushed himself away and she stared up at him wide eyed, before he fumbled at his pants, and he sighed irritably, his clothing starting to piss him off. He yearned to be close to her, to feel her soft skin warm against his. She leaned to him, her head pressing to his chest as she helped push his pants and boxers down past his thighs.
He propped himself up one elbow, scooping his stumped arm underneath her, pressing her close as he guided himself with his hand into her slick warmth. He grunted as he thrust into her and he faltered for a moment. Sweat beaded down his back, even as her hands slipped around underneath his vest, her fingers digging into him and holding him tight, and as much as his shoulder ached again, he was fucked if he'd let that stop him. He found his pace, thrusting fully into her, filling her, her soft groans warm and prickling on his skin.
He pressed his forehead to her shoulder as her finger nails raked and dug into his back, her legs shifting against him suddenly, her thighs clasping his sides and her heels digging into him as she pressed her hips to his and he thrust slowly and rigidly into her. His breath felt constricted in his chest, and he shifted his stumped arm, pulling her closer. He moved his head from her shoulder, pushing her vest top back up with his hand, slathering the flat of his tongue over her breasts and nipples.
His nostrils flared as his own movements got quicker, and he felt her all too delicious slick tight hold over his dick grow stronger and firmer and he knew that she wasn't far off. He looked down at her, her eyes wide and fixed on his as he raised his hand to his mouth and slowly licked at his fingers. He glanced away from her, his eyes dropping down and traveling across her skin, and he trailed his hand down between them, as he thrust into her, his fingers eager as they rubbed softly and damply against her. She gasped suddenly against his shoulder, her teeth nipping sharply into his skin.
"My God, Merle..." she cried against him.
"Shit," he grunted as she started to buck against him, and he knew that time was against them and he wouldn't last out much longer either. It was as if the damned woman had put a spell on him. He scooped her up more firmly, pounding into her like he had been damn well starved of this. Sweat trickled across his brow, and he closed his eyes to the feeling of her hot wetness throbbing and convulsing over him.
"I want you..so fuckin' much," he mouthed at her skin. He felt his own climax build until it ached and pounded painfully, his breath rasping, and he thrust repeatedly into her so hard that he thought his balls would burst from the pressure building inside of him like a damned pressure cooker ready to pop. He slammed into her several times before shuddering and releasing hotly inside her. His heartbeat thundered wildly in his chest as she moaned against his damp and fevered skin, and he raised his head to sloppily kiss her. His body sagged and trembled against hers and as he felt her shiver, he twisted onto his side, pulling her with him. She kissed him softly, before pressing her face to his throat, her hands traveling across his back, fingers splaying out and holding onto him tightly.
They held each other for a few minutes, before the dawning realization of their surroundings sunk in. They moved apart reluctantly, readjusting and pulling up their own clothing. Carol reached across and grabbed at the blanket she had worn around her shoulders, and she smiled at him. He lay down back in the thick straw, panting and pulling her with him, and she laid her head on his chest, tugging the blanket around them.
They lay for a while in silence, the only sound the throb of their heartbeats. Merle curled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest, and she twisted in his embrace, turning and laying on her stomach, leaning against him. She reached out and touched at his chin, her fingers traveling up to stroke his cheek.
"Do you have any regrets?" she questioned quietly.
For a moment he found that he couldn't answer her, then he smiled softly, his fingers trailing down her shirt clad back, wishing that they were naked and bare to each other. "No, I ain't got no regrets, darlin'. I don't ever regret nothin' with ya," he murmured. He couldn't believe that after everything that had been said, that she still wanted to be anywhere near him-that she still wanted to be with him. He was only too damn fucking thankful that she did.
"What now?" she asked.
He shifted against her, frowning down at the top of her head, his fingers pausing their motion against her back. "What do ya mean?" he asked.
Carol sighed. "I mean, when we get back to the prison, with all of the others around. What is going to happen between us. Is this..." she paused, pressing her forehead to his chest briefly, before glancing back up at him, biting at her lip. "Is this...a thing?"
Merle chuckled, "If yer asking if the others can watch, then fuck no. They can go an' get the fuck out'a here, honey. I ain't the sharing type of guy. They want some? They can go an' get their own. I ain't sharing ya with no-one."
"That isn't quite what I meant, Merle," she chided him softly.
"I know that," he answered, pressing his arms around her, holding her to his chest. He wasn't a complete dumbass. He knew damn well what she was asking-and it terrified him. "Why the hell's it got to be a 'thing'? What the fuck is that anyway, huh?" he grumbled.
"Us, together. We're a thing," she laughed.
Merle narrowed his eyes sharply. "Why have ya gotta go an' call it summat? I like yer company, I like to fuck ya, an' I reckon you feel the same way, darlin'. Ain't no need to go an' call it shit, though."
She raised her head and frowned at him, and Merle sighed, "Look, if yer asking if I want anyone else, then the answer to that is no. I ain't wantin' none but you. But ya gotta understand a few things."
"Such as?" she mouthed against his chest.
"I ain't the type of man that maybe yer used to, mouse. I don't do none of that pussy assed shit. I ain't the type of guy that can hold yer hand in front of others... hell, we see enough of that with 'em damn lovebirds, Glenn an' his lil farmers girl. An' if that's what yer expecting out of this, from me? Then darlin', yer lookin' at the wrong guy. I can't do it."
"I know," she answered softly, laying her head to his chest, her hand curling around his shoulder. "Merle, I wouldn't expect any different. And...that's not what I'm about, either."
"Good," he replied. "'cause I ain't gonna lie to ya. I'm a difficult son of a bitch, an' I got a damned high miserable temper on me. I ain't gonna be easy to live with, alright?"
"You're not telling me anything that I don't know already. Merle...I know all of this," she answered, laughing a little at the indignant look he shot at her. "Are you trying to put me off?"
"No. I'm jus' trying to being honest with ya." Merle was surprised that for once he'd actually let his guard down just enough with her to be candid about stuff like this, no matter how much it made him feel uncomfortable. He felt mildly relieved that he'd finally gotten some of this shit out into the open with her.
Carol shifted against him, pushing his arm from around her, and sitting up. She stared down at him, a small smirk pulling at her lips. "So...I guess we're perfectly clear on where we stand then."
He frowned, laying back in the straw and watching her. "Huh?"
She got to her feet, lowering her hand to him, and watching as he grasped her fingers between his, before tugging him, somewhat awkwardly to his feet. She smiled impishly at him, curling her fingers between his, and stepping on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. "Come on, we should go back."
"Wait a second...what was ya saying?" Merle grunted.
Carol shook her head, watching him in amusement. "We got a 'thing'," she smirked.
"Aww fuck. Shut the hell up, woman," Merle grimaced. "Don't ya make me go an' regret sayin' shit like that, for Christ's sake."
He smirked as he watched her pick back up the pieces of firewood that he'd made her discard earlier. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow, before thrusting it at him, and he took it from her, grunting, but knowing now she wasn't totally fooled by his gruff attitude. Carol picked up a few more pieces, before turning away and pacing back towards the fire, Merle following close behind.
He glanced at her as she laid the pieces of firewood next to the ring of stones. His brother had retired to his bedroll, and the fire was now nothing but a few glowing embers. He sat down heavily, pulling his knees up, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled his packet of smokes out. Lighting one, he leaned away from the fire as he placed a few pieces of wood into its smoldering depths, watching as the flames slowly reignited.
He took a long deep drag on his cigarette, watching as Carol came across and sat next to him, pulling the blanket about her.
"Go an' get some rest," he grunted, seeing the darkened rings about her eyes. She totally ignored him, choosing to sit at the fire next to his feet, and he huffed irritably at her. "I told ya mouse, go an' get some damn sleep."
"I will when you do," she said softly, leaning her head against his knee.
Merle rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. He placed the smoke back to his mouth, savoring the taste and flood of nicotine as it hit his bloodstream. Glancing down at the woman next to him, he curled his stumped arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him- watching the slumbering forms of his brother and Michonne warily, thankful that they were fast asleep.
Carol smirked back at him, and they stared in silence at the flames of the fire, Merle dragging heavily on his smoke, before flicking the butt of his cigarette into the small flames. Sighing, he turned to her, pulling her up to him more firmly, resting his chin on her head. It wasn't until a few moments later that he was aware that she was leaning a little too heavily against his legs, and he looked down, poking at her with one finger.
"Mouse," he hissed.
She didn't make a sound, so he poked her a little harder, pulling his hand back and staring at the fire as she sat up abruptly.
"Oh, I must have fallen asleep," she yawned. "You should have woken me up, Merle."
"Didn't want to wake ya," he replied, smiling. "But ya really need to get some sleep-I'll sit here for a while an' keep watch."
She got to her feet, stooping down to press a kiss to his head. He caught her arm and stared at her, not really knowing what to say, and feeling awkward. She smiled at him, and he watched as she made her way to the bedrolls, laying down and tugging her blanket over herself.
Merle shoved a few more pieces of wood onto the fire, and sat back, banding his arms around his knees, staring at the orange licks of flame as they caressed over the wood. He wouldn't sleep tonight, his mind was buzzing too much.
He couldn't help but feel damn nervous about what shit the new day would bring. Everything had changed yet again, and he wondered if he would be able to cope with the new circumstances he found himself in. He would try to keep what was between them as private as he could, he didn't want any asshole poking their unwanted noses into his affairs. And if anyone did find out and laughed at him for being a pussy in this new 'thing' with her? He wouldn't think twice before pounding their miserable asses to the ground.
...