Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
a/n: I'd just like to thank everyone for the reviews and for reading this fanfic, as always it means a great deal to me.
...
Merle crooked his arms under the pillow, cushioning his head as he lay on the bunk, the blanket half covering him. He stared at the upper bars of the cell, sighing under his breath as the pale morning light streamed through. He twisted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. Carol was doing her damn best to try and ignore him, and he watched in disappointment as she got dressed. He couldn't see any reason why they couldn't stay in bed just a little bit longer-it was still early morning, but she had gone and told him that she had promised Rick that she would look after Judith for a few hours. The damn man had it easy-always someone to go and look after his kid, while he went and did fuck only knows what Rick Grimes always did.
"Ain't there nobody else that can have her?" he grunted as she pulled her shirt on, sourly noticing that the woman had gotten dressed way too quickly.
She looked at him and smiled, grabbing at his clothes and dropping them next to him on the bunk. "No, there isn't Merle. Now come on-get dressed. You can help me if you want, after." She raised an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips expectantly, waiting for him to complain.
"You can come an' help me, if ya want mouse," he smirked, pushing back the blanket and slowly sitting up. He liked how she smiled at him in embarrassment, at the way her cheeks flared suddenly pink.
"You're a grown man, I think you can look after yourself," she replied, looking away from him and sitting on the bunk. She leaned down and started to tug her boots on.
He kept his back carefully away from her and pulled his wife-beater on. "I'd much prefer you did," he smiled innocently.
"Shut up and get dressed," Carol glanced at him and smirked, pushing the pile of clothing towards him. "You promised Tyreese and Karen you would help them at the fences."
"Ah hell. I did," he grumbled, looking up at her and frowning as she slid off the bunk, fully clothed. She reached across to her night-stand and took her knife, fastening it to her belt. "Ya sure you don't wanna keep me company jus' a lil longer, huh? I reckon they ain't gonna mind. You can give me a damn good reason for being late, if you want. Bed's still warm, if ya wanna jump right back in here with me," he leered.
She shook her head and then relented at the look he gave her, and she stepped over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "They might wait, but I'm sure Judith wont. And I don't want her to wake up the rest of the prison."
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her nearer, pressing his forehead to her chest. "I don't give a fuck about the rest of 'em in the prison," he mumbled. "It's Rick's kid-hell let her scream her damn lungs out, let him be answerable to summat for a damn change."
"Merle, stop it," she warned, ruffling her hands through his hair. She glanced down at him and sighed, "Your hair has grown so much. I didn't realize it was so curly. Daryl's isn't-"
Merle huffed, the sound slightly muffled. He was enjoying being all pressed up against her, and he wondered if he slipped his hand down to her ass and let his true intentions be known-would she be so eager to go and run off to look after Judith. "I follow after the ole man in my damn looks," he admitted reluctantly. "Only glad I ain't like that bastard in other ways. Daryl always followed our momma. He got that sweet little disposition of his from her too. Lucky him, huh."
"You don't talk much about them-your parents, your childhood," she asked softly, cupping her hand to the back of his head, her fingers pushing through his hair and scratching at his scalp.
He froze against her, closing his eyes and trying his damnedest to forget. "Ain't much to say, honey," he said tightly. "They were...the both of 'em...fuck. They weren't ever parents to us. Never. I about went and raised that boy myself. They weren't nothin' more than a bunch'a cruel hard assed drunks. The ole man-he liked to use his fists and anything else that came to hand, and her-well damn it- she weren't much better," he trailed off.
"Merle, I'm sorry," Carol said softly, leaning away from him as he shifted against her.
"Ya ain't got anything to be sorry about, mouse," he said, looking up at her. He tried not to flinch as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, and she frowned at him in concern, smoothing her hand softly over his head. "I don't want to talk about that shit no more. I'll tell ya someday, but not now."
Carol watched him for a moment, her fingertips brushing lightly through his hair, "Okay," she sighed as she offered him a small smile.
Merle found that was another thing that he liked about her. If he didn't want to talk about shit-she would never pressure him into spilling his guts. She would let him alone. He wondered if there were many other women like that, that knew when to keep their mouths shut when told. He had to admit to himself- she was something special, and he was a lucky bastard to have her in his life.
"What?" she asked, watching him and seeing with some surprise the soft warm look that drifted into his eyes.
"Ain't nothing," he shrugged nonchalantly, starting to feel embarrassed and stupid as he felt his cheeks start to warm. Damn woman.
"Hmm," she answered, leaning down to kiss him before stepping back. "I really have to go and get Judith. Rick said he wanted to go out alone for a few hours, he's probably waiting."
"What ya mean, go out alone? Ya gonna tell me he's leavin' those damn hogs and his precious weeds? Well fuck," he said, a slow lazy smile pulling at his mouth.
"Be nice," Carol said as she moved towards the entrance of the cell. She paused, one hand grasping at the blanket covering the doorway, before tugging it open wide enough for her to slip through. She glanced over her shoulder and smirked at him. "By the way? Your hair? You should let it grow. It's cute, Merle."
"The fuck?" he rasped out quickly as he watched the blanket drape shut behind her. "Ain't nothing cute about me, woman," he called out, narrowing as his eyes as he heard her small laugh. He pushed himself off the bunk to pull his pants on, stopping and running his hand through his hair as he stared at the entrance of the cell.
The first goddamn opportunity he got, he'd shave the lot off.
…
One of the first things that he was aware of as he walked out across the courtyard was the fact that it wasn't fucking raining. Secondly, the sun was out and as he glanced up at the sky, he saw that there wasn't so much as a single dark raincloud in the abrupt blue of the sky, and he mused to himself that maybe the awful shitty weather they'd had recently was finally about to break. Thirdly; as he lowered his gaze, he saw Glenn leaning dejectedly against one of the grey grimed prison walls, the outlines of chalked flowers and smiling stick people incongruously at odds with the austere severity of the natural nature of the place.
He made to walk past the Asian, not sure whether to speak, or not. He still wasn't sure of Glenn's reaction to him, and as he saw Glenn looking back, he saw the same thing mirrored in the younger mans face.
"Huh, Glenn," he nodded, stopping as Glenn looked across at him. Merle saw with some amusement the dark tired smudges under his eyes. "Didn't ya get much sleep last night?" he asked, wondering if he'd managed to worm his way back in with Maggie. That lil farmers girl sure had the makings of a damn fine hellcat.
"No," Glenn answered tersely. "She's still mad at me."
"An' ya didn't take my advice?"
Glenn scoffed loudly, "Yeah sure Merle. Like that would work."
Merle rubbed at the straps of his prosthetic, wondering if he had tightened them too much-it felt like the leather was rubbing and pinching at his skin more than usual. "Whatever. It worked for me," he lied.
Glenn looked at him in surprise, "Really?" He scratched at his head tiredly, his hand falling to his side as he sighed, "Why am I even asking that."
"You ain't gonna know if ya ain't prepared to go an' try, Glenn," he shrugged, smiling slowly. "Ya didn't see me all alone an' crying to myself last night, did ya boy? I'm tellin' you straight. Bitch-I mean...huh women, like it if ya go an' put 'em in their place. Go an' grow some man balls an' tell yer woman how it really is."
"You're telling me...that you...and that it worked?" Glenn asked, staring at him in disbelief.
Merle bit back the smirk that threatened to crease his face. Instead he raised his eyebrows, "Ya heard me the first damn time, Glenn. I weren't the one sleeping alone last night. Now, if ya ain't minding? I got shit to do." He stared at Glenn for a moment longer, before pacing quickly away and heading off down towards the outer fences. Damn fool kid if he were to go and try shit like that with Maggie, he thought chuckling to himself.
...
The sounds of the biters intensified as he got closer, and he looked in wonder at the fences, seeing with concern how they trembled under the weight of the biters that were congregating there. He shook his head as he stared-something wasn't right about how they were massing into groups at several places along the fence line, not spread out evenly as they had done in the past. He didn't understand what could be drawing them there, he just knew that something was, but he was damned if he knew what exactly. He hadn't seen anything like this before-not even when he'd been at Woodbury.
Tyreese wiped at the sweat beading at his brow with one dirty grimed arm, his eyes wide and unblinking. He nodded as Merle came over to him, his eyes sweeping past to stare back at the biters. "I don't think you can ever get used to this. To them," he grimaced. He lowered his head, his breath panting a little. "No matter how I try, I ain't ever gonna get used to this."
"Ya gotta get over that shit, Tyreese," Merle grunted as he pushed past him. He prodded one biter cleanly through the eye socket, stepping back a pace as the body slumped heavily against the chain links. "Hell," he spat. "Look at 'em fuckers."
Tyreese ignored him as he let the tire iron droop in his hands, and Merle noticed with disdain that the big man had a silly assed expression smeared all over his face. He narrowed his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing what had caught the other mans gaze. Karen ambled over towards them, a dirty apron covering her chest and the tops of her thighs.
"Say beautiful. Was wondering when you were gonna join us," Tyreese smiled.
"I told you I would. Some hot date you chose to take me on," she smiled back at him.
"Not exactly the date I had in mind, but if you care to join me later-"
Merle rolled his eyes. He'd heard enough. Damn stupid love struck fools. The sight of them was making the gorge rise in his throat.
He swiveled his head sharply at the thick rasping groan of one of the biters, and he looked at it curiously as he inched closer to it. Taking a long hard look at it, he realized that this one was different to the other biters, and what made this one different to the others around it was the fact that its ruined eyes were prominent and heavily bloodied, thick dried tracks of crimson staining its filthy face. He prodded at it warily with his prosthetic, the blade pricking at its chest. Glancing over his shoulders at Tyreese, he wondered if any of them could see the same damn thing that he was seeing-and he frowned as he realized that none of them had seemed to notice anything unusual.
Tyreese was working alongside Karen, jabbing at the biters with quick sharp thrusts, felling them quickly. Beyond them he saw Henry, and Henry caught his eye and smiled briefly, before turning his attention back to the fences. Further along the fence line he saw Chloe and a man he wasn't quite sure of, all he knew was that the mans name was David, and he'd come to the prison recently in a different group-and was now one of the newer inmates to the prison.
Merle glanced back at the fences, pausing when he saw that the biter with the bloodied eyes and face had fallen back into the throng. He shook his head, dismissing it as he plunged his blade repeatedly through the masses that surged. The bodies were slowly building up, and he swiped at his forehead with his arm as he stepped back. He felt sweaty and dirty, and he longed to be away from the overpowering stench of fetid death, and back in the prison where he could hopefully grab a few minutes to have a cool shower. And if he'd had his way-a certain woman to join him in the shower rooms to help scrub his back and other hard to reach places. He smirked at the thought. That would suit him damn fine- if only she'd get rid of the kids that were always hanging around her ass.
"Is that Michonne?"
He raised his head and stared at the main gates, half listening as Tyreese mumbled an answer back to Karen.
"I'm gonna take a break," he grunted to them, wiping the blade of his prosthetic against the thigh of his pants. He felt half guilty at that-knowing that the woman he wanted to come and help him in the showers was the same one that would by all probability be doing his laundry later that day.
"All right, brother," Tyreese nodded, and Merle couldn't help himself as he stiffened and bristled at the big niggers words. He knew damn well that he had to get over this shit-he wasn't going to do himself any favors with his attitude, but he found it so hard to shrug off his habits of old. He was trying though. It was just all this turning over a new leaf shit was so fucking hard to cope with at times.
He didn't bother to answer Tyreese, he only grunted at him in reply as he strode off to the main gates, scowling as he saw Carl trying to tug the rope levers by himself. He hastened across, grabbing at one of the pulleys, nodding to Carl as they tugged the rusted metal gates open together.
Michonne staggered in, and Merle let go off the rope, wondering why the hell she was on foot and where the fucking hell was the car. He didn't have too much time to think on it, as he heard Maggie's shrill yelp of fear from the watchtower, and he watched as Carl ran like a demon was on his ass.
Michonne wasn't alone. There were at least five biters with her, and he watched in dismay as she limped in, one of the biters grabbing at her with its withered hand, clawing at her shoulder. She twisted under its grip, her feet tangling in the trip wires, and she landed heavily on her back, her face twisting in pain. He moved quickly, thrusting his prosthetic at the biters that surged behind her, dropping them to the ground in dull muffled thumps.
"Carl!" he yelled out, the sound of his voice drowning out in the sudden sharp ricochet of a rifle being fired. He glanced up in surprise, seeing with some pride that wasn't really his to feel-Carl was stood knee deep in the long grass, a rifle in his arms, the wooden butt pressed to his cheek, his eye squinted. The body of the biter tumbled to the ground, and he looked as Maggie descended from the tower quickly, her boots slapping at the worn concrete.
Pulling back his prosthetic, he shrugged off the impaled biter, kicking it away from him with his boot. He raced across to where Michonne lay on the ground just as Maggie reached her. The Greene woman's eyes were filled with shock.
"Shut the fuckin' gate," he called out again, looking at Maggie briefly as she stared at him in surprise, then she ran off and helped close the gate with Carl. Merle had to admire the kid. Rick fucking Grimes didn't appreciate just what a goddamned asset his son was.
Michonne had pushed the biters body from off her and was sitting up in the long grass, her breath wheezing in her throat. Merle extended his hand to her, and she grasped it tightly, using his weight to help push herself to her feet.
"What the hell happened out there?" he asked brusquely, watching as she got to her feet shakily, her gloved hands rubbing and wiping at her thighs.
"Macon...was a bust-I never even made it there," she replied breathlessly. She raised an eyebrow, and shook her head, her dreadlocks tumbling around her shoulders. "I couldn't find him. I'm sorry. I tried, but your brother was right. There isn't any point no more. The trail's cold."
"Shit Michonne, hell...that ain't no goddamn worry," he said thickly. "But ya wanna tell me why the hell you were on foot?"
Maggie came across and draped her arm around Michonne's shoulders, bearing the other woman's weight and he watched as the dark skinned woman shifted to one foot, grimacing. "This isn't the time or place right now Merle," Maggie said softly. "We need to get her back to the prison-"
"Yeah, you're right," Merle agreed, listening to the frenzied sounds of the biters coming from the fences behind him.
"I'm fine. No harm done," Michonne grunted, and Merle weren't no fool to see that the woman was in pain.
"Let us be the judge of that, Michonne," Maggie answered. "Ya need to let daddy...or Dr. S take a look at your ankle."
Michonne laughed shallowly, "And I'm telling you that I'm fine. I'm good. I don't need no fussing-"
Merle was aware that Carl was stood just behind them, shouldering the rifle across his shoulder warily. The kid was thumbing the strap of the gun guiltily.
"I did what I had to," Carl said stubbornly as he looked up at Merle, his blue eyes blazing defiantly.
"Ain't none gonna blame ya for what ya did there, Carl," Merle said as he tore his eyes away from the two women.
"But...my dad-"
"Never mind yer dad. I'm telling you that ya did damn fine, and I don't give a shit what yer dad says about you using a gun, or not. You saved her. Michonne. You should be proud of yerself boy."
Carl frowned a little, "I only hope my dad sees it that way."
Merle smiled, "If it helps yer case kid, I'll put in a good word for ya. Don't you go an' be feeling guilty for what ya did. I told ya before-yer a damn fine shot, and if you weren't? What do you think what have happened to Michonne, huh?"
Carl looked at him, and a small smile touched at his mouth. The kid sighed a little, "You're right. I erm...I guess I should," he gestured behind him. "Take watch."
"I'd be glad if ya did," Merle replied. "Ain't too many I trust to go an' cover our asses, but you Carl? Don't ya go an' prove me wrong."
Carl nodded, his hair falling into his eyes and he raised his hand abruptly, brushing his fringe away. "I won't prove anyone wrong."
Merle watched as Carl headed off back towards the tower, and sighed. Maggie had taken Michonne back to C-block, and as he looked at the large prison buildings, he saw Carol rushing down towards the gates, her face a mask of confusion. He glanced once more in Carl's direction, before stepping quickly to met her.
"What happened? Merle? I heard a gunshot," she questioned worriedly.
He shook his head, "It's alright darlin'. Nothing to worry yer head about. Michonne is back...but hell, I ain't knowing exactly what happened to her," he said frowning.
"But is she all right?" she asked quickly.
Merle moved closer to her, his heart twisting at the concern in her face. She always cared too damn much for everyone else, and never enough about herself. "She's gonna be jus' fine," he said softly.
"And you?" she questioned, looking up at him.
Merle chuckled, "I'm a Dixon, what the hell do you expect? If it makes ya feel any better, you can go an' run yer hands all over me later, ya know-check for any lil bites, or scratches-"
"Just stop it Merle. I worry about you, and all you can do is joke about it?"
He widened his eyes in surprise at the sudden frustration that seemed to tinge her voice. "Hell darlin', I weren't meaning nothing by that."
"I could just about cope with all of this before, but now Merle? If I lost you, I don't think that I could," she said quietly, turning away from him stiffly and walking back up the pathway that led to the prison wing.
Merle gaped at her. He suddenly felt like an asshole for joking, but what the hell- he couldn't damn well help it. He grit his teeth and chased after her, watching as she looked at him. "Huh, maybe I might jus' feel the same way, Carol," he admitted, glancing away from her warily and scowling.
"Then stop being such an ass," she said smiling as she slipped her hand into his.
He tightened his fingers around hers and sighed. "C'mon little mouse, let's go an' see what the hell happened to Michonne," he answered, pulling her along with him. He held her hand as they walked up to C-block, and he thought with some irony that it wasn't long ago that he'd told her that he'd never do that kind of shit, and especially if any of the others were around. But now he found to his confusion that he didn't really give a flying fuck as to who the hell was watching anymore.
...