Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

a/n: This chapter is a quicker update than the others-I just had to get this chapter written down while the scenes were still running in my head. The next chapter probably won't be updated so quickly as this one-I'm back at work tomorrow, so will write whenever I get the chance.

Thank you as always for being here and reading this.

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Glenn's hands were gripping the biters shoulders, his fingers clawing and digging into its soft flesh, the strain and exertion contorting his face as he tried to push it away from him. Sweat beaded at his temples and ran down his face, and Merle watched as the Asian swiveled his head to the side as the strength in his arms suddenly start to give out, causing the biter to press its heavy dead weight more wildly against him-its teeth snapping and clacking scant inches from his face.

Merle raced forward, grabbing at the biters head, his fingers catching at its skin. He narrowly missed getting bitten as its teeth nearly caught on his fingertips and Merle shoved his hand more firmly against it, snagging his fingers back and driving its face up and away from Glenn. His hand caught under its chin, and he held its head up as he raised and quickly drove the blade of his prosthetic firmly through its skull, using his strength to bodily thrust it up and out of the Chinamans way.

Glenn slithered across the ground, his feet frantically kicking out and slipping as his boots struggled to gain purchase on the dirty floor, and Merle leaned back a little and reached out with his hand, his fingers snagging into the Asians jacket, and he forcibly propelled him across the floor on his back. He stepped quickly over Glenn, the biter still impaled on his bayonet.

Merle grunted with the effort, his momentum pushing the biter up, and he aimed his boot at its chest, kicking it solidly away and from off his blade. He leaned over it, looking at it appraisingly as he thrust his bayonet through its face, the darkened blood spraying out and staining the ground black.

He was dimly aware that a flashlight was aimed at them, and he narrowed his eyes in the sudden light, squinting as he glanced quickly over his shoulder. Zach was helping Glenn to his feet, the kids face pale and drawn in the thin and reedy yellow light.

"Get him out'a here," Merle spat out quickly. He saw the hesitation in Zach's eyes, "Jus' fuckin' do it, kid. Make sure he ain't been bitten or anything."

"No," Zach shook his head, "I'm not leaving you-"

"I ain't arguing the fuck with ya. Get out of here! Now!" Merle hissed loudly, looking away from them and into the direction of Tyreese. He couldn't see the big man, but he could hear the steady pounding thumps of his hammer.

"Merle," Glenn said shakily. "Dude...I-"

Merle shook his head as he picked the fallen flashlight off the ground, and he hurriedly moved away from them. "Save it Chinaman. Not now." He paused for a moment, his light flashing towards them, and he watched briefly as Zach led Glenn towards the shuttered doors on the other side of the warehouse, feeling a relief flood through him as they made their way towards the entrance.

He tore his eyes away from them. He was pissed as hell. He'd had told Zach to stand guard, not that there was any real great need of it, he'd only said it to keep Zach out of the way-to make sure that if anybody was going to make it out alive, he'd made damn well sure that it would have been the kid.

But Zach had come back when he'd been told to fucking well stand his ground, and as Merle rushed down the box filled isle, he decided that he would make sure that the kid would have his ass soundly kicked for disobeying a direct order.

He shone his light down the isles, the light bouncing off the stifling cardboard wall of boxes, his eyes frantically darting about, searching for signs of the other three men. He could still hear Tyreese, and he hoped to hell that the big man was alright.

He rounded a corner, the isle suddenly smoothing out into a large flatter expanse of emptier space, and as he shone his flashlight, he caught sight of Henry, the mans face ashen as he cowered behind a stack of large boxes.

"What the hell-" he started to say, stopping as he saw the anguish on the other mans face. "You okay?" he asked, stepping closer. "Henry, answer me for Christ's sake. Are you alright? Have ya been bitten? Scratched?"

"N-n-no. I don't think so. S-shit..." Henry stammered fearfully. "I...oh God, I don't know, that biter-I saw it and I couldn't do anything. I froze, man. I fucked up and I froze!"

"Ain't nothing ya can do 'bout that right now, just move yer goddamn ass," Merle rasped thickly. He glanced away from the other man, staring back down the isles, "Ya seen the others?"

"T-t-the others?"

"For fucks sake man, get yer act together. Ya seen Bob? Tyreese?" Merle cocked his ear, frowning worriedly as he found that the sounds of the big man and his hammer had faded away into nothingness.

He didn't answer, and Merle glared at him angrily. He paced over quickly, thrusting the flashlight between his teeth as he grabbed at Henry, his fingers grasping and pinching roughly at his shoulder, forcefully dragging him from out of the cover of the boxes that he was hidden behind.

Pulling the flashlight from his mouth, he shoved it at Henry, watching as the man looked at it in confusion, before his fingers curled around the handle.

Merle thrust his face at him, "Yer gonna calm the hell down and help me. You got that?" he soothed, trying to placate the younger man. "We ain't leavin' none of ours here, yer understanding me, huh?"

Henry nodded at him dumbly. "But what if they're dead...what if-"

"We ain't got no time to be thinking shit like that. I told ya. We ain't leaving our people behind. Yer gonna help me find them, then we'll do what we gotta do," Merle answered curtly.

"Okay," Henry breathed shakily, "I got you."

Merle looked at him for a second longer, before inclining his head swiftly. "Now yer gonna follow me, an' yer gonna keep yer shit together, alright?"

He glanced around them, his eyes narrowing as he squinted in the dim light. He could just about make out the dim shape of a glassed cubicle-some sort of managers office, and as he stared, he swore he saw a shadow move inside.

"Henry, you gotta keep that light jus' beyond me. I ain't exactly got use of both of my hands. I'm gonna need ya to help me," he said sourly, grimacing at his own words.

Shit would have been a damn sight easier with the use of two hands, but Merle was fast becoming used to the shitty hand that he'd been dealt with. He fucking well hated and resented having to ask Henry to help him...but now was the time to swallow down that stubborn assed Dixon pride and quit being a goddamn pussy when there were others that needed help. He would let himself rant about that age old misery in the confines of his own cell. Now was not the fucking time.

He pulled his pistol from his waistband, thumbing the safety off, and he paced swiftly and silently forwards, Henry trailing behind him, the flashlight guiding and dimly lighting their way. Merle stopped, holding the pistol up quickly as he stared through the pale light. He turned and glanced at the other man over his shoulder, "This way," he grunted.

They'd only taken a few more tentative steps forwards when they walked into Tyreese, and Merle felt fear and surprise spear his guts as he quickly thumbed the safety and thrust his gun back at his waist.

Tyreese was stood in the thick shadows, his dark eyes wide and glazed over, the hammer in his hand raised and dripping with blood. He stepped over, his hand reaching out and snagging around Tyreese's wrist as the big man gaped at him unseeingly, the muscles in his arm bulging thickly as he resisted Merle's tight grip and attempted to smack the hammer across his temple.

"Whoa...cool it down big guy, cool the fuck down," Merle hissed. His own muscles bunched tightly in his arm as he fought rigidly against Tyreese.

Tyreese frowned suddenly, the dark look drifting from across his eyes. He blinked rapidly several times, his arm relaxing and the hammer drooping in his grip. "Merle? Where's Bob?" he asked fearfully, gulping harshly before he let his arm sag under Merle's tight grip. "I lost him, I couldn't find-"

"We're gonna go an' look for him, it ain't no problem," Merle answered. He let his gaze drop from Tyreese, and he glanced down with surprise at the bodies of biters that littered the floor at Tyreese's feet. "Shit man, ya really went an' did a number on these undead fucks," he said wonderingly.

"There's somebody out there," Henry whispered quickly, the flashlight in his hand darting away from them, and illuminating the dark grimed glass of the managers cubicle.

"C'mon," Merle rasped. He was getting pretty tired of this shit real fast.

They moved across the warehouse towards the cubicle and as they stepped nearer to it, Merle raised his hand, grunting irritably as Tyreese made to push his way past him. He glared at the big man, defying him to move. Tyreese just gaped at him, before casting his eyes to the ground and muttering under his breath.

"What the fuck ya saying, 'cause I ain't exactly hearing ya," Merle challenged him. He watched for a moment, all the while his ears listening out for any sound of Bob, or of biters. "You stay here an' guard our asses," he grunted. "Henry, yer with me. Lets see if that asshole is in here."

He waited a moment as Henry caught up with him, then he strode towards the cubicle, pushing the door open with the flat of his hand, raising his prosthetic at the ready as Henry shone the flashlight into the office, the dull light thinly dispelling the dank shadows. The light flickered up and across at the sound of a sharp intake of breath, and as Merle stared, he saw Bob emerge reluctantly, clutching at the straps of his pack.

Bob stepped out slowly, his dark eyes widened in fear, and as Merle listened more intently, he swore he heard the soft clink of glass bottles in the other mans backpack.

…

"Jesus, you made it!" Zach grinned as he pushed himself away and off from the Dodge that he'd been leaning his back against. He stepped quickly across towards them, only stopping when he saw the angry look on Merle's face.

"I told ya boy, to stay put, an' ya fuckin' well didn't," Merle spat out angrily.

Zach frowned, his eyes downcast. "I wasn't going to leave you all in there, not with those things," he said quickly.

Merle sighed, "God fuckin' help me that I should go an' put my damn boot up yer worthless ass. I tell ya something kid? You listen to me an' ya fuckin' well do it."

"I'm sorry," Zach replied, but Merle ignored him, choosing to glance at the Korean. He moved across to the Dodge, opening the trunk, knowing that Glenn was watching him.

Glenn walked over to him, sighing and running one hand through the tangled mess of his hair. "Merle, I should-"

Merle shook his head, "Save it Glenn," he said curtly. "Ain't got the time to be hearing this shit. We still got a job to do." He glanced up as Tyreese and Henry lumbered across to them, Bob following behind. He narrowed his eyes at Stookey. Something was going down with him, and Merle was determined to find out exactly what the hell that was.

"You're going... back...in there?" Bob spluttered out fearfully.

"Damn straight I am," Merle answered. "Y'all can stay out here, keep Henry an' Stookey company. Guard the damn vehicles if ya think y'all can manage that without fuckin' it up."

Henry grunted sourly before stepping across to the SUV, cranking the trunk open.

Merle huffed at them, then looked up sharply as he heard the Korean shuffle his feet.

"I'm coming with you," Glenn said suddenly, swirling the blade in his hands, the motion cutting and whispering in the air.

"Are ya sure yer up to it, Kim?" Merle asked curiously, watching as Glenn took a deep steadying breath.

Glenn met his gaze unwaveringly. "Do you really think that I'm going to let you steal all the glory? Hell no. I'm coming with you Merle, and I don't care what you think. This is still my show, my damn run."

Merle gazed at him, his lips slowly tugging upwards into a lazy grin. "Ya got some damn balls on ya, for a Chinaman," he said humorously.

"I'm Korean," Glenn replied as he stepped across and stood next to him, his dark eyes watching him defiantly.

Merle chuckled suddenly, "Whatever."

…

Merle didn't want-or trust Henry or Bob with him as he made his way back into the warehouse, instead he'd made them wait out at the cars like the pussies they were. Glenn was adamant about accompanying him, as was Tyreese and Zach, and Merle was suddenly confused and surprised about the other mens unexpected support and sudden determination to join him. He hadn't wanted...or expected any damn thing from any of them, but they'd insisted, and he'd found that he'd had to swallow down a few hasty and hateful retorts. Especially when he'd seen the sincere look shining on the young kids face as Zach looked at him.

Merle sighed.

Between the four of them-they had put down the last few biters that had been roaming haphazardly in the maze of the warehouse, and they'd managed to accumulate a fair sized mass of supplies, mostly canned goods-something that the prison was badly in need of.

He'd let Zach take out the large box of batteries, and he was suddenly feeling charitable enough to let the kid take the glory back at the prison for their discovery too-knowing damn well that shit like batteries would be vastly wanted by the majority in the prison-even that fuckwad officer Grimes. Merle had seen him using an old fashioned Walkman while he was out in the fields playing captain A-hole, and he could only guess what kind of shit Rick listened too.

Probably some faggot assed crap like Celine Dion, or RE fucking M, Merle mused. That seemed gay enough for good old Ranger fucking Rick.

As the last supplies were boxed up and stowed in the trunks, he slapped his hand on the roof of the Dodge, watching as Zach grinned at him. Glenn was pulling open the door of the SUV, and as he caught Merle's eye, he smiled tightly, inclining his head quickly, before tugging his door shut.

Merle waited as Tyreese climbed into the backseat, and he stood for a moment, letting his gaze travel across the loading bay, watching as the wind tumbled over sheets of ragged paper that skipped across the tarmac. The low groans of a biter reached him and he raised his eyebrows at the sound, shaking his head as he tugged the passenger door of the Dodge open, and dropping heavily into the seat. He slammed his door shut and glanced across at Zach.

"Let's get the fuck home, kid," he said.

…

The prison wing was pretty much deserted, most of them in their cells, taking watch or taking care of the biters massing at the fences, and Merle was thankful for the quiet as he sat at a table. One of the former Woodbury women, Jeanette had been clearing away the remnants of the last meal, but she had insisted that she'd had enough left over to spare the men as they'd bustled their way through.

Henry had declined, as had Stookey, and Merle had watched Bob suspiciously as he'd slunk his way back to D-block.

Zach had gulped down his food in break neck speed, and Merle thought that the only other person he'd seen devour food so quickly and ravenously was his own damn brother. He'd bit back a chuckle as Zach had thrust his empty plate quickly back on the table, wiping hurriedly at his mouth with the back of his hand and murmuring his quick farewells.

Merle knew that Zach probably had a hot date with a certain little Greene girl, and he glanced across the table, frowning as Glenn came over and sat down heavily opposite him, idly toying with his food with his fork.

"Ain't ya got a hot date too, ya know...a certain lil Bo damned Peep?" he questioned, smirking at the look of exasperation on Glenn's face.

Glenn huffed as he ate his food slowly. "I could say the same, Merle."

Merle scoffed loudly, "Ain't no bitch gonna make me go an' rush after them."

Glenn raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, only choosing to smile a little at his food. "Are you so sure about that?" he said after a while.

Merle placed his fork onto his empty plate and rubbed his hand over his thin greying beard. "Ain't knowing what yer meaning, Kim." He knew damn well what Glenn meant-hell it felt like everyone in the prison liked to have a little dig at him about Carol lately, and Merle purely out of habit and stubbornness would never admit to anything.

"What you did at the warehouse-"

He shook his head irritably, "Shit...whatever yer gonna say Glenn, don't. Ya ain't got no need to say any damn thing."

"I owe you," Glenn replied carefully.

Merle sighed, "Ya don't. Look, let's not make a big thing out'a this, alright? I ain't the type to turn his back on shit. Let's jus' leave it at that."

Glenn stared at him for a moment, nodding his head briefly before twisting his gaze away. "Merle, do me a favor. Don't breathe a word of this to Maggie. She wouldn't be happy about what happened-she doesn't like me going on the supply runs as it is. So...just really, not a word to her, okay?"

Merle laughed at that.

"Dude...I'm fucking serious. Don't breathe a word. Please." Glenn looked at him fixedly before pushing his chair back, watching as Merle nodded at him. "I'm off. I...uh, thanks Merle. For what you did out there."

"Think nothin' of it," Merle grunted uncomfortably. He watched as Glenn made his way towards the cell that he shared with Maggie, then he pushed his own chair back as he stiffly got to his feet.

He paced across the cell block, making his way to Carol's cell, thinking what a pussy whipped idiot Glenn was for wanting to run to his woman as soon as he could. Merle smirked at the thought, raising an eyebrow and glancing at their cell as his feet clomped up the metal gangplank towards Carol's. After everything that had happened, he badly wanted to see her.

And to his surprise he found that he didn't really care if that made him a pussy too.

...