Carolina in my mind

Chapter 2

The last thing Carolina remembered was falling asleep on her couch. She woke with a start, thrashing under the blankets as she tried to get her bearings. She was not only in bed without any recollection of how she got there, she wasn't even in her own bed. The dim light filtering in from what looked like it might be a nightlight in the next room created just enough visibility for her to see the room was one she was sure she'd never been in before. She shifted her body, gasping when she bumped into another body next to her.

"Just a bad dream," the man told her, the southern accent coming through even though his voice was thick with sleep. "S'alright sugar jus' go back ta sleep."

The man and his voice were as unfamiliar as the room and the bed. And when he shifted his body towards her, Carolina realized they were both naked under the blankets. She shrieked, sitting up and jerking away from the man. Her head slammed hard against the wooden headboard, making her vision go blurry. She reached for her head and whimpered as the pain radiated out from the already forming bump on her scalp.

"What in hell?," the man groused. He sat up, clicking on a small battery operated lantern he had on his side of the bed. Carolina released her head and clutched the blanket against her bare breasts, terrified not only by the unfamiliar man's presence but by the angry expression on his face as well. An expression that quickly gave way to concern as he crawled across the bed towards her.

"Carolina? Are ya a'right? What's wrong?"

The gentle tone of genuine concern in the man's voice eased her terror slightly. And with the light on, Carolina took a better look at him. Maybe he did look a little familiar. Like she ought to know who he was but didn't. The throbbing in her head wasn't helping with her lack of memory. He was handsome in a rugged way, with close cropped hair and a bit of stubble on his jawline. Her eyes drifted lower, widening when she saw the jagged stump where his right hand should be. Suddenly, Carolina knew where she'd seen this man before. She was in bed with Merle Dixon from the Walking Dead. Carolina blinked a few times. This had to be a dream. There was no other explanation.

"I think I'm dreaming," she said, using one hand to push herself into a more upright position on the bed. Carolina moved one hand, pinching herself so hard on her arm that she winced and left a red mark behind. She continued hugging the blankets against her chest as she watched Merle swing himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of discarded shorts from the floor. With his shorts on, he rounded the foot of the bed and approached her. Caroline flinched back away from his touch, her blue eyes wide with fear. Even if this was a dream, she wasn't sure if she wanted this man touching her. She'd watched season three enough times to know he was the worst kind of asshole. The injured look that appeared on his face when she jerked away from him surprised her.

"Where are we?," Carolina asked. He raised a brow at her.

"We're in our apartment. In Woodbury," Merle replied, like this was information she ought to already know. "How hard did ya hit yer head? Maybe I betta take ya down to the infirmary."

"NO!," Carolina shrieked, remembering the helicopter pilot that ended up with his head in a fish tank after his trip there. Merle narrowed his eyes at her. He looked like he was thinking about taking her down to the infirmary despite her loud objection. Carolina pressed herself back against the headboard, holding the blankets tighter against her chest.

"Lemme look at the bump on yer head." It was clearly a demand. Not a question. But since his voice was filled with concern, Carolina allowed Merle to enter her personal space and search through the back of her hair with his one good hand. He found the bump, feeling around it with a gentle probing touch. It was obvious to Carolina that he was being careful not to cause her any further pain. When Merle was done with his simple examination, he crossed the room and began to rifle through the top drawer of a large dresser. Returning with a small flashlight, he gestured for her to tip her chin up so he could shine the beam of light into her eyes.

"Well, I don't think yer concussed," he said, putting his thinking face back on as if he was trying to figure out another explanation for her strange behavior. "The dream ya had?," he asked, "...It was a bad one?"

Carolina nodded, though it was the dream she was currently having that concerned her. It felt too real. Too palpable. She could smell the lingering odor of sex in the air. And the sheets of the bed were soft against her naked body.

"Why are you being so nice to me?," Carolina asked, eyeing him with an equal mix of curiosity and mistrust. Merle laughed, his face lighting up into a wicked grin.

"If ya wanna it rough, I can arrange that," he teased, his gaze lingering on her naked flesh. He laughed again when Carolina white knuckle gripped the blankets she was hugging to her chest. Rising from the bed, he disappeared into the next room, returning a moment later with a bottle of whiskey and two small jelly jars.

"How 'bout a drink instead?," he suggested. Carolina nodded eagerly. She actually needed a drink in the worst way. And she hoped if she drank more and went back to sleep, she would wake up back on her couch with the tv playing late night infomercials.

Merle set the little jars on the bedside table, filling them almost to the brim with the caramel colored liquor. Carolina reached out her shaking hand, taking the glass and tossing the contents down her throat. The liquid burned as it went down. And Merle laughed when she held her empty glass out for more.

"Yer gonna have a bad headache in the mornin' if ya have more than one whiskey," he chided. Carolina gave him a questioning glance. How did he know that more than one shot would give her a morning headache?

"How do you know that?," she asked. Merle chuckled as he poured them both another drink.

"I know more than that," he drawled, handing Carolina the jar back. "Yer name's Carolina Mason. Yer thirty one. Yer from Virginia. Ya usedta be a high school science teacher." He paused, his eyes raking down over her body. Like he knew what she looked like under the blankets. "Yer a natural blonde. Ya wear a thirty four double D. And ya make noises like a chipmunk when ya get real excited."

"That's not true," Carolina huffed. He laughed as he leaned in closer to her.

"Could prove it if ya don't believe me," he whispered, his whiskey breath ghosting over her skin. Carolina shivered, unable to keep her body from responding to his presence in her personal space. A bit of heat was building down in the base of her stomach. But that feeling was tempered with fear. Merle might force himself on her. Or hurt her in some other way. She didn't trust him. As it turned out, all he did was press a gentle kiss to the side of her mouth before he moved away. Retrieving an oversized t-shirt and another pair of boxers from the floor near the bed, he tossed them to her.

"Let's go back to sleep," he suggested, "...it's late and I've got watch duty in the mornin'." Carolina nodded, quickly pulling the shirt down over her head. She swung her legs out of bed, yanking the shorts up. There was no need to double them over to keep them up. They fit her snugly since her hips were wider than his. Carolina paused near the side of the bed, watching Merle climb back under the covers. For a moment, she considered making a run for it. But she quickly decided she was more afraid of the monsters that might be lurking outside the small apartment than she was of Merle Dixon. When he held the covers up for her, she climbed under them and let him slide his body closer to hers. He pressed a kiss into her hair, holding her close. Carolina's body remained stiff at first. But when it became obvious that all he meant to do was sleep with his arm around her, she allowed herself to relax as she cuddled into his side with her head on his chest. The whiskey swirled in her belly, making her drowsy. And Carolina fell asleep for the second time that night in full belief that when she woke, she'd be back in her own apartment and this strange nightmare would be nothing but a fading memory to her.