Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

A/n: This chapter has frustrated me to a large degree, as I have had to deviate a lot from my original intended and thought out plot line. Recently I made the mistake of reading a fanfic where the plot was something very similar to what I had intended to write all along-concerning of course, Carol, Merle and my OC Scott. So I have had to greatly rethink now where I am heading with this...and this new unplanned plot line/twist is now something of a work in process.

I refuse to go along with my original idea and plot-line, for fear of plagiarizing somebody else's plot. And I am doing this as I have had this happen to myself-namely a Caryl fic I wrote a while back, where I had seen a whole key paragraph of my own story 'lifted' almost word for word, and written into somebody else's fanfic. I've never mentioned this before, but I feel the need to do so now.

And as always, I would like to say a big thank you to those that are still with me in this story-it is very appreciated.

...

Merle leaned with his back against the door frame, one booted foot holding and propping the outer prison door open. The rain lashed down icy and hard, thick droplets that hit the concrete and spattered, sending little rivulets that ran and puddled. He raised his eyes to the dull drab sky and watched the rain as it fell, squinting his eyes as the occasional droplet hit his face and ran coolly down his skin.

They had been back a few days-and in the time that they had been away and returned, a lot of new shit had happened. For one thing, sheriff asshole had gotten himself a pig pen, and residing inside that was a fat dirty pig and a few pink piglets. Merle smirked to himself, yeah...it seemed Rick was right at home in that sty, like attracting like and all that shit-all pigs together. It wasn't no wonder that the sheriff was never far from the sty, what with it being almost a home from home.

The sound of feet shuffling next to him snapped him out of his reverie and he lowered his eyes to the young boy stood opposite him and almost mimicking his own pose. Carl was leaning with his back to the wall, watching him with those all too wide and all too knowing blue eyes that blazed at times just like his old mans. Always alert...always watching-it made Merle's skin feel like it was going to squirm right off his goddamn shoulders.

He huffed at the kid, glancing away and staring down the courtyard where the ramshackle array of wooden palettes that the pig pen had been constructed from loomed darkly in the dull afternoon light.

"How long yer ole man been down there?"

Carl shrugged, shifting one foot, his booted heel scraping across the floor. "I don't know. He spends a lot of time with the pigs lately."

"Bet he wonderin' where you are, huh boy?" Merle remarked, watching as Carl pouted. The boy had grown up in a lot of ways, but he was still nothing more than a kid-even though it was easy to forget just how young Carl was. The boy had a certain air that he carried about himself that belied his true age.

"No. Well okay...maybe. My Dad still wants me to farm with him-"

Merle narrowed his eyes, "You ain't been forgettin' what I told ya a while back now, have ya kid?"

Carl stared at him and shook his head. "I haven't forgotten."

"Good. Ya know damn well that there are bigger things out there than pullin' a few damn weeds and looking after hogs. The threat's still out there, Carl. Don't ya go an' be forgetting that."

"I know. But he...I mean my Dad still won't let me have my gun back. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without it." Carl glanced away petulantly, and stared at the falling rain.

"Ya can always come an' help me an' some of the others clear them biters from the fences-when an' if this goddamned rain stops. You need to keep yer practice in." Merle chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as Carl frowned at him, "Ain't the same as keepin' yer gun, I know kid," he said softly.

"Dad won't let me do that."

Merle's head snapped round to stare at the boy. "What the hell ya mean, he won't? Nut up kid, don't let yer ole man boss you 'round."

Carl sighed, and Merle thought he heard a note of irritation in the kids voice. "You don't understand," he whined, shuffling his feet.

"Yeah, ya think that I don't-but I do. I get it Carl. Was a time I let my ole man boss me an' Daryl around...shit was a lot different then though, 'cause at least yer ole man cares for you...not like that bastard of a father did for me an' my baby brother-"

Carl looked up at him, his eyes widening in surprise and Merle felt the heat as it rushed at his skin, coloring his cheeks. He clamped his mouth shut, wondering what the fucking hell had just possessed him to say crap like that to Carl. He twisted his gaze away, biting sharply at his lip, feeling like a complete pussy for spilling his guts around the Grimes kid. What the hell was happening to him.

"I'm sorry," Carl said, after a moment. He looked up at Merle, "You know I think I kind of annoyed my Dad. I named the pig."

"What...ya named it after yer ole man?" Merle asked, seeing a small smile start to pull at the boys mouth.

"No. I didn't do that. The pig is a girl...so I named her Violet."

"Ain't no point naming shit when all we're gonna do is eat it at some point." Merle raised his eyebrow at Carl's quick glance, "Well-what did ya think we was gonna do with it? Play fuckin' hoopla?"

He wasn't overly surprised when the boy didn't answer. He watched as Carl raised his hand, one finger sticking out to push at the brim of the sheriffs hat that wasn't sat on his head no more- his hand instead brushing at his thick fringe. Merle found himself wondering why Carl wasn't wearing it anymore.

"Carol looks happy," Carl said, quickly changing the subject.

Merle glanced at him sharply, "Huh? What the hell's that supposed to mean, boy?"

Carl pushed himself away from the wall, "I'm just saying. She looks happy. It's good to see. I know she's been sad for a long time- I know how much she's missed Sophia."

Merle shrugged noncommittally, "Dunno why yer tellin' me kid. Ain't none of my damn business." He felt fucked if he was going to spill anymore damn secrets to the kid; although he did feel a small measure of pride at the thought that maybe he was the one that had been putting that smile on her face lately. God only knew that the woman deserved some sort of happiness-she'd been looking too damned miserable for way too long.

"Well...you do spend a lot of time with her," Carl remarked.

"That don't mean nothin', Carl. Don't ya go readin' too much shit into things." Merle hoped that Carl would just shut it. He didn't want or need anyone else knowing what was going on between him and the woman, and as far as he was concerned- there wasn't many that did know, apart from his brother and Michonne -and Merle hoped to keep it that way.

"You seem happier too," Carl ventured, smiling and then glancing away.

"Ain't you got somewhere you gotta be going, kid?" Merle glowered. He grabbed a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit it irritably, puffing out a plume of smoke from between his teeth. He frowned at the knowing smile written on the boys face, "Ain't ya going to Carol's story time with 'em other kids?"

"I'm not a kid, Merle," Carl replied seriously. "I'm too old for stories and coloring in and drawing pictures for the prison walls. That's for the little kids like Luke and Mika."

"Heard yer friend Patrick goes," Merle remarked, watching Carl carefully.

"It's up to him what he does," Carl shrugged. "Like you said, there are more important things to be worrying about."

"Huh, yeah," Merle sighed, looking at the never ending curtain of rainfall, before pulling his foot away and letting the door slam shut with a resounding clang. "Well boy, ain't gonna be doing anythin' out there in that damn rain," he remarked sourly.

"I'm going to see if Glenn needs any help," Carl watched him for a moment, his eyes bright and fixed unflinchingly on his, then he nodded and turned away.

Merle frowned as he watched the kid step back into the prison wing, listening as his footfalls faded into the distance. He pushed himself away from the wall, his hand catching out and grasping at the base of his prosthetic, his fingertips touching and rubbing at the leather strappings. He waited for a few moments before striding off into the direction of Carol and the library.

…

"Do you think he's said anything?" Carol asked, her brow puckering into fine little worry lines.

Merle glanced over her shoulder. The kids were grouped together at two of the larger tables, pads of paper, crayons and colored pencils littering the wooden table tops. Their heads were bowed in concentration, all except Luke who was looking at him curiously with large dark brown eyes. Merle glared and narrowed his eyes at the boy, almost smiling as the kid hurriedly dropped his gaze and grabbed at a thick black crayon, poring over his own piece of paper and scribbling furiously.

He looked back at Carol. "No, I don't think he's gone an' said anything. Seems he's still pissed at his ole man for keepin' his gun. Not that I blame the kid for that. Rick's an asshole who should know a damn sight better."

Carol sighed, then grimaced. "I tried to talk to him about what he saw, but he wouldn't have it. Rick wont be happy about any of this, Merle-"

"Yer worrying too much, mouse," he answered, looking cautiously over her shoulder as he reached out his hand and touched at hers with his fingers.

"I hope you're right," Carol looked at him and sighed, her fingers catching and tangling with his. "Ryan's been joining us in the library."

"Ryan?" Merle questioned, trying to picture a face to the name.

"Lizzie and Mika's father," Carol explained, a small smile on her face as she watched him. The smile fell and eased away as she stared across at the children, before glancing back up at him quickly. "The girls haven't said anything, and he never stays long. Just long enough to hear me 'read' to the children."

"How do ya know them kid's ain't gone an' said anything to him?"

"I trust them," she said simply. She gave his hand a quick squeeze and let go, moving back to the tables where the children sat.

Merle narrowed his eyes and watched as she made her way over to the children, grumbling under his breath. Since they'd been back, Carol had been spending most of her time with the children, mostly with the two Samuel's girls, and he couldn't help but feel concerned that she was becoming a little too attached to them. He'd seen how she was with them; how she acted, and he worried that she was setting herself up for one hell of a fall. Those girls weren't nothing to do with her, they weren't her damn kids. And they certainly wasn't supposed to be a replacement for Sophia. Merle wasn't stupid, he'd seen and watched them closely together over the last few days.

He picked up a book from one of the bookcases and carried it across to a table and chair set nearer to the door. He sat down, dragging his legs and resting them on top of the table, leaning back in his seat and resting the book against his prosthetic limb, idly thumbing through the pages and glancing towards Carol and the children.

Carol walked across to where Lizzie and Mika were sat with another of the small Woodbury girls, Molly and her seemingly ever present companion, Luke. "What are you drawing Lizzie?" she asked curiously.

The older Samuel's girl ignored her and carried on sketching, her arm curled around her piece of paper, shielding it from her inquisitive younger sister's view-much to Mika's obvious irritation.

"She won't say. Lizzie, why wont you show me?" the younger girl asked, impatience wrinkling her forehead.

"I don't want you to see, not until I've finished it," Lizzie said, fixing her sister with an unblinking stare, before bowing her head, the pencil in her hand scratching hard against the paper.

Mika huffed quietly, "Bet I know who you're drawing-and you're not supposed to Lizzie. I told you-"

"Shut up Mika," Lizzie hissed, curling her arm tighter around her drawing.

"Mika, do you want to show me your picture?" Carol asked, smiling as the young girl nodded eagerly, then held up her sketch for her to see.

The children had taken it upon themselves to draw pictures of the residents of the prison, and Carol bit back a smile as she looked at a drawing that was obviously Carl Grimes-complete with sheriffs hat perched on an almost cartoon like head.

"That's very good Mika. I'm sure Carl would love that."

Mika visibly blushed and looked up at Carol happily.

"I drew mister Merle," Luke said suddenly, raising his arm quickly to wave his drawing at her, the motion sending crayons and pieces of paper flying and fluttering to the ground.

Merle glanced up and frowned. Dumb assed fucking kids. He heard Carol's little laugh, and he placed his book on the table, shoving his legs away and getting to his feet. He paced irritably across, glaring at the drawing that Luke seemed ever so proud of.

"What the fu...is that supposed to be?" he barked, staring at the stick man drawing of himself-complete with a gigantic crudely drawn version of his prosthetic arm, and an overly large head with a sour assed expression drawn thickly in black.

Carol nudged his arm with her elbow, covering her mouth with one hand. "Looks like you have a 'fan', Merle," she said softly, ignoring the narrowed look he shot her.

"My head ain't that damn big, kid," he grunted, glancing as the expression on Luke's face fell from a sunny smile to a pout that looked like it was verging on tears. The kid looked crestfallen.

"Say something nice," Carol insisted quietly, and Merle glanced back at her sharply. What the hell was he supposed to say to the dumb kid.

"Huh...that's real nice, Luke. You'd been better off drawin' my brother though. He always was the prettier one-"

"I drawed mister Daryl," a voice shouted out, and Merle glanced at a sketch held up in the air, frowning as he saw that the likeness of his brother was a damn sight better than the one of himself.

"I've finished," Lizzie said, sitting up in her chair, and placing her crayon carefully to the table top.

Merle looked at the picture that Lizzie had drawn. While most of the other kids pictures were brightly colored, with little yellow suns at the corners of the paper and large colorful flowers, Lizzie's was drawn mostly in black. He frowned at the girl, dragging his eyes from her to look back at her drawing. She had drawn two groups of people with a thick black line scribbled in between and separating them. The figures on the one side of the drawing all had morose looking faces, while the others had big smiles. Merle saw that one of the figures with a big smile had a name badge which said 'Nick'.

Mika narrowed her eyes as she saw the drawing, "You're stupid, Lizzie. I knew you would draw him and I told you not to." She shook her head as she reached for another crayon, nudging her sister in the process.

"You don't know anything, Mika," Lizzie hissed quietly. She looked up questioningly at Carol, rising from her seat and pushing it back with a loud scrape against the wood of the floor, "May I be excused?"

Carol nodded, "Yes of course you may, Lizzie. I'm sure your dad will be back by now. Mika? Are you going to go with your sister?"

Mika shook her head, frowning a little. "No, can I stay here with the others, and with you?" she asked.

"Of course you can," Carol reached out her hand and touched at the girls hair, smiling softly at her. Merle scuffed his boots on the ground next to her, and she looked up at him narrowly.

"I ain't gonna be hangin' my ass 'round here, I got a watch shift to take. I'll see ya later?" he asked, ignoring the kids as they watched him.

Merle didn't wait for her answer, instead he strode over to the library door, pulling it open, and waiting as Carol chased after him. She touched at his arm, the soft smile on her face lighting the blues of her eyes, the small fine lines at her eyes crinkling mirthfully as she looked at him.

"Behave yourself and you might, Merle," she said playfully.

He wanted to pull her to him and show her just how much he damn well intended to misbehave- but he was painfully aware of where they were and the fact that they wasn't alone, and it mildly pissed him off. It felt that since they'd been back they hadn't had much time alone-the only time they'd had was when he'd sneak into her cell late at night...and he'd always made damn sure to use that time wisely.

"You need'a behave yerself too woman, ain't no knowin' what I'ma do if ya don't," he leered.

She raised an eyebrow, before turning away. "Is that a promise, Mr. Dixon?" she called out to him over her shoulder.

Merle chuckled to himself as he left the library, the door swinging shut behind him with a firm and resounding click.

…

Watch was uneventful as it normally was, and for once he actually felt the cold, the cool persistent icy rains seeping and dampening through his jacket to his skin. Nothing much had occurred, just Rick pacing at the fence lines for a while before the shitty sheriff must have decided that everything was all right before he slammed his way back into the prison block.

He watched as Bob, Zach, Sasha and Tyreese returned from a supply run in the Hyundai, and as he strained his eyes through the heavy curtain of rain that fell, he could just about make out the ever present biters littering at the gate and fences at the further most field.

Merle sighed, it seemed that there were more of the biters there than usual, and he knew he would have to mention it to the council, or someone. The way the fence was starting to wobble and buckle under the constant pressure of undead bodies pressing up against it-they'd have a problem on their hands soon enough.

He was thankful of the two Woodbury assholes that came to relive him of watch duty, and he stared at them, grunting as they waved at him. One of the guys, Henry-a guy with one of those stupid blue beanies perched on top of a mop of lank brown hair raised his brow at him as Merle flicked his cigarette butt at his feet.

"Quiet watch?" Henry asked, placing his foot on the embering butt and stamping it out.

"Same ole shit," Merle grunted. "Who's taking over after you guys?" He asked, watching as a young woman with long brown hair came up the steps.

She snagged her hand in her hair, her fingers trying to smooth down her hair as it flew about her shoulders in the wind. "Glenn and Maggie," she answered shortly.

Henry laughed at that, "I bet those two wont do much watching, eh, Chloe?"

Merle smirked at them, "Oh yeah...you can bet yer sweet asses that there wont be much of that goin' on with 'em two damn lovebirds." He found it funny as fuck that the Chinaman and his little girlfriend's reputation was far exceeding them.

Still smirking at the thought, he nodded at Henry and Chloe curtly, handing the rifle over to the other man, then making his way down the concrete steps, shrugging himself deeper into his jacket as the chill wind buffeted at his face. He didn't waste any time getting back to the prison block, tugging the door open and stepping through.

He paused for a moment as he heard the tones of voices raised in argument, one voice softer than the other, and he felt dread curl in the pit of his stomach as he listened more intently, pulling the door shut to the sound of the wind howling outside. Pacing softly, he turned the corner, anger suddenly surging hotly through his veins and pounding at his ears.

Scott was leaning over Carol, his hand caught tightly around her arm, holding and pinning her to the wall.

"You don't have anything to lose, Carol. So why the fuck not?" Scott angrily demanded.

Carol tried to push him away, but his grip on her arm tightened, and Merle heard her small gasp of pain. "He told me Scott. I don't owe-"

"That's what you think. I don't care what you think that he told you. I haven't said anything yet-but I will," he hissed back. "And you'll owe me Carol. I'll make damn sure of that."

"What the hell is goin' on, ya lil fuckin' asswipe?" Merle bellowed. "Leave her the fuck alone!"

Scott glanced over his shoulder at Merle, surprise stretching across his face. "Just a little discussion. Nothing for you to be concerned about, Dixon," he drawled lazily.

Merle didn't think-he acted. He rushed at Scott, grabbing at the collar of his denim jacket, snagging it firmly in his fingers and dragging the man away from Carol. She stood back, rubbing at her wrist, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed and as Merle watched, she rubbed at her arm and tugged at her sleeve- but not before he saw the large red angry mark marring her pale skin.

He threw Scott viciously to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs, "That make ya feel big huh? Hurting women?" He aimed his boot and kicked at Scott, catching him in the side and he watched angrily as Scott lay on the ground gaping for breath. He slammed his boot into him again and again, before kneeling to the ground and grabbing at his head, his fingers curling into the other mans long hair and pulling him up by it.

Scott's eyes narrowed in pain and he gasped, struggling and trying to catch his breath.

"Men like you ain't worth shit. I told ya to keep the fuck away from her... an' now yer goddamned hurtin' her? You gutless fuckin' pussy. You make me sick." He curled his fingers tighter into Scott's hair then slammed his head hard into the ground, uncurling his fingers and letting him go with a grimace of pure disgust.

"Merle, please... just leave this," Carol pleaded.

Merle looked up at her and narrowed his eyes angrily, "I told ya...I ain't lettin' anyone damn well fuckin' hurt ya. What the fuck was you doing, huh? I told you to keep the hell away from this asshole," he barked, watching and feeling like a shit as she suddenly flinched away from him.

He glanced quickly away, watching as Scott tried to raise himself up on his arms, and before he could stop himself, he landed a hard vicious punch to the mans face, feeling the satisfying crunch of Scott's nose bust under his fist, his blood spraying up and soaking his cheek.

Merle leaned over him, pushing and placing his prosthetic arm on the mans chest, resting his weight on it, pinning him to the ground. "Come anywhere near her again, an' I'll fuckin' kill you, you son of a goddamn bitch," he spat.

He pushed his way from Scott, getting to his feet and turning suddenly in surprise and weary frustration as he saw Glenn and Maggie watching them aghast. Glenn's hand was twisting in his hair and Maggie's face was drained of color, her mouth gaping open.

"We heard voices," Glenn said breathlessly, "Dude...I saw what happened...we couldn't do anything-"

Maggie had gone across to Carol and had her arm around her shoulders and was starting to lead her away and back towards the cells, but not before Merle saw the tears trickle down Carol's face and he felt sick and angry with himself and Scott all over again.

He shrugged, his head downcast, "Yeah, I bet ya saw, Glenn. Go on, do yer fuckin' worst. I don't give a shit no more," he spat tiredly.

"You know I've got to say something about this Merle..I've got to talk to Rick, to the Council," Glenn answered, walking towards him warily. He raised his hand in the air as Merle glared across at him.

He blinked rapidly in surprise as Glenn placed his hand on his shoulder. "Go and see Hershel, get your hand fixed," Glenn said quietly, seeing the blood and the grazes on his knuckles.

Merle looked at his hand dully, trying to shrug the Asian from off him, but Glenn tightened his grip momentarily before removing his hand.

"I'll tell them what I saw Merle. Don't worry." He looked at him for a second longer, before tearing his eyes away and pacing softly through the prison block.

Merle shot a quick look over his shoulder at the prone figure laying on the ground. Shit was going to hit the fan, and that shit was namely himself. He wondered what the fuck the repercussions of this was going to be. His knuckles stung and smarted, reminding him of what Glenn had advised-but Merle felt fucked about his hand.

That could wait.

Carol couldn't.

He turned and made his way towards her cell, ignoring the few curious glances that he got from the handful of residents sat in the cafeteria watching him silently.

...

Added a/n: At this point, where Merle attacks Scott for hurting and attacking Carol, is the point where I now have to deviate from my intended storyline, where Merle is concerned. Hence, I have now had to add Glenn and Maggie to the mix.

...