15.

His name was Devon.

Though it might have been Kevin or perhaps even Warren.

Merle couldn't be sure since he didn't have much cause to hang out with ten year olds. Was only aware of his existence because of the fights. The boy never missed one. Front row every time. Cheering like a loon. A weird world, to be sure.

Naturally, he notices Merle immediately - shouting his name in gleeful surprise and bounding over in a whirl of noisy enthusiasm to greet his favourite fighter.

Merle's heart dips down to his boots. So much for slipping away incognito.

What was he even doing here? There was nothing for kids in this part of the compound. Could they be expecting more of them? Panic spikes in his veins and for a split second it feels as if he will be lost to the dread that is in danger of burying him, because if he can't extract himself from this situation, kidnapping will likely be added to the list of inglorious deeds done in the name of surviving Woodbury.

"Well, err… hey there..."

"Marvin."

"Oh yeah! That's it," he replies absently, eyes scanning the surroundings to discern if his 'fan' has friends in tow.

"So, err... how's it goin', Melvin?" he adds, not because he wants to know, but because the kid's eyes have strayed to his undead companion and Merle isn't having a bar of that.

Fortunately, the boy's gaze switches back, and any irritation with Merle and his short memory is soon forgotten in favour of more important matters.

"Are you here for a fight?" he asks, voice high with excitement, and Merle chuckles because that was what it was all about that with this one. Oh, he might look like a dweeb, but beneath the harmless veneer was an appetite for violence of unsettling proportions.

"Nah kid, reckon this town has had its fill of ol' Merle, figured you'da seen that the last time I was in the ring."

The boy shrugs in a display of nonchalance that has Merle almost cackling. He no doubt thought it was all part of the show, like the next level in some f*cked up computer game or something. Probably assumed he and Daryl sat drinking beer with the Governor after the fight, all friends together, congratulating each other on a great performance. He finds himself studying the child as these thoughts run through his mind, jealous of the bliss that comes with such ignorance.

But then something shifts in the boy – his eyes grow impossibly wide and a horrified groan leaks out of him.

He is looking at her.

And what he sees must terrify him because he's trembling and at the point of tears.

Were Merle the paternal type, he could almost feel sorry for him.

Goddamnit…

The eyes always give it away…

"S'alright," he offers, wincing at how lame this sounds, but then what exactly does one say in such a situation?

"She won't hurtcha," he adds, shooting her a look to make sure she's on board with this. She nods in agreement, trying to make herself as unthreatening as possible, and Merle sighs, because you can put a bow atop an apex predator but that hardly makes it a household pet, now does it?

His gaze returns to the boy to see if he might be buying this and he's pleasantly surprised to find that he is.

"Really?" Marvin asks, voice brimming with awe.

"Yeah," Merle replies, a wry smile appearing at the corner of his lips because the kid looks like he might wet himself in excitement. "She's on our team, y'know?"

"Sweet!"

Merle laughs so hard at this he ends up wheezing - giddy with a strange mixture of relief and amusement at the utter absurdity of it all. The kid is so stoked, he can hardly catch his breath and one can practically see the cogs turning in that little brain, no doubt envisaging what this new development will mean for Woodbury's recreational program.

A sound from elsewhere in the compound has Merle swiftly back down to earth and in an instant, all levity drains from him. They don't have time for this. Every second they stand here, the risk of being discovered increases.

"Hey, look, I'm gonna need ya to help me out with sumthin', you think yer can do that?" He asks, crouching down to look the boy straight in the eye.

Marvin nods so hard Merle thinks his head might come off.

"I need ya to go on home now and take good care o' yer mama, d'yer hear me?"

The disappointment is devastating.

"Aww Merle!"

"Don't you 'aww Merle' me! Shit's gotten ugly round here an' it's only gonna go get uglier, I don't wantcha gettin' caught up in all that..."

"Oh purlease..."

Merle's jaw clenches because the desire to slap the little shit is all-consuming, but this impulse is instantly washed away by a flood of sheer terror as a dreaded voice rises above all else.

"You should listen to him Marvin, he knows what he's talkin' about."

And just like that, all hope is lost.

.

"Evenin' Merle, good to see you again."

Merle nods, as the Governor steps out of the shadows, but cannot return the compliment. Is too busy grappling with despair on a whole new level, besides.

He vaguely registers that the boy has fled and feels relieved for that if nothing else. His sardonic side suggests that perhaps he's hung around just out of sight to watch and is amused that his death will no doubt be entertaining for the little jerk.

Others crawl out of the woodwork then, Martinez, Shumpert, et al. and Merle smirks because he'd always known that this was how it would be.

Come on then f*ckheads, let's get it over with...

It seems the f*ckheads are still waiting for their cue however, and the reason it isn't coming is obvious - their leader is unable to tear his eyes away from the figure just to Merle's left, astonishment written large upon his features.

For Merle it is suddenly so clear.

He'd not expected to see her.

At all.

Ever again.

Let alone like this. Upright. Mobile. Out of her cell. Standing in front of him. Matching his stare and then some.

Coward.

Couldn't even face whatchu done to her...

Alas, there is no time to ponder this sentiment, because in a heartbeat, the astonished features twist into a snarl, the gun is out and she's collapsing to the ground.

Merle goes postal.

Is screaming as he moves to catch her. Hardly registers that the gun is now being aimed at him because all he can see is the pain on her face. He pulls the curtain off her to get a look at what he's dealing with, frantically begging her to stay with him and pushes the butt of his prosthetic hard against her shoulder to staunch the bleeding. He holds her tight as she writhes in agony, telling her she's going to be ok, that he's going to take care of her...

At some point, as he's clumsily trying to tear the curtain to make a tourniquet, he notices that all has come to a standstill around him. Nobody moves, not even a fraction. All they do is stare.

You f*cks never seen a guy take care of his girl before?

He shakes his head because it's not as if he has any say in what they do and he's acutely aware that this is likely all for naught, but carries on regardless because he cannot bear to see her suffer, only to have the blood freeze in his veins as he hears the click of a gun as the hammer is drawn back into place.

He gets no chance to look in his murderer in the eye.

.*.

It is pandemonium from there on out.

Confusion reigns.

Merle wonders how it can be that he still lives.

The reason lies behind the Governor in a pool of blood.

Milton!

Merle heard the shots and can do the math.

Milton has just gone and saved his life.

Unfortunately, he was a bad shot and the Governor wasn't.

Oh shit...

Martinez is pacing, spitting out curses in Spanish, freaked out something awful. He's in good shape compared to his colleagues, most of whom are catatonic, staring slack-jawed at the dead man, trying to get to grips with the fact that the Governor has just put a bullet in the head of his closest friend. One of the newbies is being violently sick in the corner, whilst the Governor merely reloads his gun and acts as if nothing happened.

Merle hates him more than ever.

Based on what he knows, he cannot believe that Milton just tried to kill his friend. No, more likely it was a warning shot to keep the psycho from killing them. What he hadn't reckoned with, is that it would cost him his life.

Poor bastard… gambled and lost...

It makes Merle sadder than he thought he ever could be for a man he never really liked.

But of course, it isn't over yet. Far from it.

His brain has now had opportunity to catch up to the fact that there is nothing lucky about the fact that they still live. No indeed, Merle is positively certain that this is only the beginning of their woes. Taking into consideration the chilling expression that is currently being directed at them from the lunatic responsible for all this, Merle can say with complete confidence that they are utterly screwed.

He brings his hand up to her face, trying to keep a lid on the incredible sadness that comes with this knowledge, and she smiles back through the pain and nods to signal that she knows... that she always knew...

Clever girl…

He takes her hand, slipping something into her fingers – praying that she will somehow be able to keep it and whispers softly in her ear, telling her he'll wait for her... however long it takes…

Then he's being dragged away and she's kicking and screaming, the strangled noises emanating from her wrecked throat so thoroughly alien that all freeze, only to find that when they snap out of it, she has latched herself to Merle and will not be moved.

The Governor yells at the men to get her off him, but they won't go near. Probably because they have never seen anything like her before. Walkers don't collapse in pain. Nor do they kick and scream. They certainly don't hang onto people because they are terrified of what will happen to them... Add to that the fact that if they try to move her, she may well bite, so it's hardly surprising then, that the knives come out because how else is one supposed to deal with walkers?

The Governor blows a gasket at this - pointing his gun wildly at the men and declaring he'll have every last one of them rotting in a cell alongside her should they put so much as a scratch upon her.

This threat has them back off completely - unable to do right for doing wrong, until finally, Martinez has had enough and decides to take initiative - informing Merle that he should convince her to back down because if she doesn't, he'll start lopping parts off him and forcing her to eat them.

In no need of a translator, she backs down immediately.

Merle sighs long and low because just when he thinks he's hit rock bottom….

Thanks Martina, you're a real pal.

He takes one last look at her as they drag him off to god knows where, and gives her a smile in an attempt to console her. The tears do not stop, but she tries to smile back.

He hopes she does not feel bad for backing down. He's already forgiven her. Just as he would always forgive her a million times to the end of the world, because they never really had a choice... just as they never really had a chance either... but that's ok... he's not sorry for any of it.


The knife slides in deep.

Too deep.

Too deep to come back from and Merle is overwhelmed by an all-consuming panic of the kind that can only come with the realisation that you are about to die.

He wanted this.

Had provoked the Governor in order to get it, knowing that if he didn't, things will only be worse. Having been beaten to the point of exhaustion by the his former colleagues, he was hardly in a position to do anything other than get in a few verbal blows. Fortunately, when it comes to that particular discipline, he's heavyweight champion.

He grins because as things currently stood, he got what he wanted pretty much by the end of the first round. One mention of her was all it had taken. A reminder that he had never been able to win her.

"Must be bitter to know that she liked me more... Chose this redneck sonofabitch over your ass..."

The grin turns to a grimace however, as reality crashes down upon him, and if the saying 'be careful what you wish for' had ever been apt, then never more so than now, because death is staring him in the face and Merle can honestly say that it is terrifying like nothing else.

And with the fear comes regret…

That it should end like this. That he couldn't have done more.

"Was it worth it, Merle?" The Governor asks with a sneer, "To lose your life for nothing?"

Merle spits a mouthful of blood at his tormentor's feet, which is as good an answer as any as far as he's concerned.

She wasn't nothing. His brother wasn't nothing.

"She'll never be free…"

That's. What. You. Think.

Merle smiles then as he thinks of her, reminded of how determined she is, how strong.

His work is done here.

There's nothing left to say.

He wonders why the screwball is hesitating...

It isn't difficult to guess what he's after.

"I ain't gonna beg."

The Governor tilts his head. Irritated by an unusual response to what is so obviously game over.

Merle could almost laugh.

Let it come...

In a way, it was unutterably sad because there would be no happy end.

But then, somehow he had always known there wouldn't be.

Because he was Merle Dixon and she was a walker.

And yet…

It was the closest thing he would ever have to one...

And just because it didn't resemble some Gone With The Wind style epic love story, that didn't make it less worthy.

Indeed, there are a million forms of love, a million small gestures, a million kindnesses, moments shared, memories made, that have nothing to do with romance in the usual sense of the word, and yet they are warm and wonderful and make life worth living...

Merle got to have a taste of that for a while, got to have someone who was happy to see him, who valued his company, who took him as he was and made him feel like more than just some redneck asshole...

So as he left this world, he got the closest thing to a happy ending this sorrowful life would ever grant him - warm thoughts and remembrances of his brother, who would no doubt go on to be the last man standing…

And of her…

The walker who was more human than anyone he ever met.