This is a Merle/OC story. It will have somewhat canon characters and storylines but something's will change as it progresses. I am trying to stick to Merle's canon but he will soften some.

I don't own the Walking Dead, its character or storylines. This story will contain some exact quotes. This story is for fun, not profit. :)

This is a Mature rated story. It contains: LOTS of cursing, gore, violence, references to rape, assault and abuse, SMUT and probably other offensive things. yadayadayada

18+ years only

Please and Thank you.

The Sweet Hereafter by: The White Buffalo was used for the story title. It seemed to fit the story and Merle's Dixon.

"Sweet Hereafter"

Oh, when I left my mamas home
Left her for dead when I left her all alone
The whores they won't let me be at night
They can't replace the warmth I need tonight
Because I'm cold, cold as hell

The lord, He don't wait for me at night
He knows what I've done is wrong and it ain't right
The devil await me with open arms
And he sways me with his wiles and with his charms
I'm holding on when there's nothing left to hold onto

Hold on to the sweet hereafter

The fountain from where I drank from as a child
When I was young I was bored and I was wild
Since then I have grown into a man
And I know that I can always stand
But I'm wrong, I'm still a child

Hold on to the sweet hereafter

Merle stood in the hallway listening to the Governor yell and hit the woman brought in from the nearby camp. Martinez picked her up while she was scavenging a bait location, Governor's nasty little trick of capturing outsiders to gain information of their camps. He wanted to know where the camp was? How many men? How many guns? What supplies they had?

The most common way he acquired this information was by force. Merle couldn't claim innocence of the act. He had beaten information out of prisoners but he didn't work over women, he'd threated but never hit. That was left to others and if Merle was honest he never really thought much about it.

When Merle came to town things were ideal. The Governor helped him get clean and saved his life by fighting an infection in his amputated limb. He would be dead if he hadn't been found and he owed the sadistic bastard his life.

Now?

Now Merle felt like a sinister pawn in a sadistic chess game, a deadly tool in the back pocket of a madman. The Governor was playing God. He was wiping out entire camps for supplies. He had several rooms he used for play. The kind of play that made grown men cry for their mamas and women wish they were dead. Merle wasn't innocent by any means. He pulled the trigger on countless men. He had stolen and murdered on the Governor's orders to do so. Many nights when he found himself drinking the looted liquor from the recent raided camp he'd sit picturing the faces of those he hurt, those he killed. He knew he'd eventually pay for his crimes. Pay for being a hired gun.

Another yelp echoed in the metal structure bringing Merle back to the present. The girl inside the room was being stupid. She wasn't talking. No matter what the sick bastard did, she kept her mouth shut.

'Fuckin' dumb broad.' Merle thought while picking at his nails with his prosthetic knife attachment nervously. Something was keeping him grounded in his spot despite the pain of hearing it.

The sound of her crying out again twisted his gut. It was a strangled sob that tore the old redneck bastard up. He grew up watching his Pa beat on his mom. Abusing women and children was a line Merle never crossed and thought men who did were cowards.

The crack of leather against skin followed by an animalistic howl caused a chill to run up his spine. His back burned just hearing the familiar sound, a sound that woke him up from nightmares on most nights. Two more quick cracks and Merle snapped out of the flashbacks of childhood. Throwing the door open he saw the woman on the ground in a ball at the Governor's feet, his leather belt hanging from his fisted hand, blood dripping to the floor. It was a scene straight out of the Dixon family album. Her back was split open. Three angry welts oozing blood marred her once pale soft skin. Her body was trembling and quiet gasps were making their way out from under her cowered frame.

"Why are you interrupting my interrogation Merle?" The sadistic bastard asked calmly, his eyes as black as Appalachian coal.

"Problem with the match tonight. Martinez said he needs ya," he replied evenly hoping his rage wasn't showing. The excuse was real but it wasn't actually an emergency. He just needed to interrupt the bastard from injuring the woman anymore. Merle knew the Governor would check it out even though it wasn't important at the time. Philip was a controlling asshole and he needed to be involved in every happening around town.

"Well then. I guess we'll take a break darling. Merle if you'd get her restrained I'll be back to continue our… conversation. Sweetheart you're gonna love the next part." He said in his dripping southern gentleman facade. The sound of his voice gave Merle the creeps.

Merle grunted in response and moved to the broken shape on the floor still curled within herself, her once blonde hair caked with dried blonde. Her pale back angry and inflamed. She was nude except for panties, which truthfully shocked Merle. The Governor had a proclivity to rape.

'Guess that was his next play.' He thought angrily.

Merle lifted her up and sat her in the chair at the table. They were alone now but he still spoke quietly.

"Gonna be ok girl." He said gruffly.

Merle was one tough bastard. He had seen a lot of disturbing things before and after the turn but those pale shoulders with large hand print bruises wrapped around each boney clavicle, turned his gut something awful. He pictured his mama on the kitchen floor, her housedress torn, broken glass and spilled dinner, his Pa's fingerprints wrapping her neck. Shaking his head clear of the haunting images he got to work. They didn't have much time and he didn't have a real plan to speak of.

Merle took his flannel off leaving him in a wife beater and camo pants. Sliding the fabric over her small frame and buttoning it up he leaned down to see the damage to her face. Her left eye was black and deep purple. The white of her eye was blood red, the blood vessels all broken. Her bottom lip was spilt in the center and dripping blood down her chin. It needed stitches. Her neck was ringed with bruises. The sadist strangled her at some point.

"We're leavin'. Ya hear me," he said fiercely but quietly, his voice hoarse. "Ya do 'xactly what I say girl."

She nodded and gripped his forearm squeezing it tightly. He could see the fear in her eyes but also gratitude. Merle nodded then stood, helping her to her feet. She was unsteady for a moment but quickly moved with him. He figured her adrenaline was pumping and numbing the pain. Merle knew the guard was at the door so he held her wrists behind her and whispered. "Gotta be rough with ya girl. Just play the part. Follow me."

He opened the door and roughly shoved her forward while gripping her wrists to keep her from falling. She tripped over her feet and yelped out. The guard laughed at her and nodded his head to Merle.

"Where ya takin' her?" The man asked while leering at her bare legs and exposed cleavage.

"Gov wants her in his private room." He stated with a fake leer, "Got a keeper."

Merle laughed gruffly while secretly wanting to punch the fuck out of the guy in front of him.

"Awesome. Maybe he'll share this time huh?" The man laughed again and waved them by.

Merle took her wrists and walked fast but not unusually so, down the pathway behind the corrugated metal buildings. Once at the end he had them duck behind a short retaining wall. Running along the side he got cover besides another building. They only needed to run to the exterior wall that had a loose panel. He was going to sneak them out and book it as fast as he could to somewhere safe. Merle was ruining his ability to return to town but for some reason it felt worth it. There was no real reason behind his choice to run with her other than his inability to listen to the leather belt crack.

They finally made it outside the walls and he moved them through the trees avoiding the wall sentries eyes. They had no supplies and all he had on him was his prosthetic knife attachment, a hunting knife and a handgun with two clips. The girl was barefoot and barely clothed. It was cold enough that the air chilled Merle's now sweat covered torso. There was no time to waste though so they ran. The girl was silent, God bless her and held her own while running. Merle kept looking over at her as she ran. Her legs were strong; she was in shape and was agile. Hopping over logs and climbing through thick underbrush seemed second nature to her. However he could see her favoring her right foot and an occasional hand gripping her ribs. She grunted as she landed and there was a groan when meeting an incline.

They moved for hours in the dark by the full moon. It was overcast so the light would fade in and out making the traversal of landscape difficult.

"Almost there. Creek up 'head 'n a spare bag o' mine." He said as they slowed to move down a short but steep ditch. She nodded but didn't speak, her panting breath was all he could hear. Luckily neither of them encountered a walker, which was somewhat surprising but much appreciated.

Merle located the creek and they found that it was low and easy to cross. When they stopped the woman splashed water on her face.

"Don' drink it." He warned her hoping she wasn't stupid enough to drink possibly contaminated water.

"I know." She said. "Just sweat in my eyes and blood clogging my nose."

He trudged up to the rock outcropping and dug out the pack he hid in a small opening behind the boulders. It was his bug-out bag, emergency supplies for a speedy exit. He was thankful he'd thought of doing it when he first arrived in camp.

"Ok let's go. We need to move. I know ya tired but we gotta." He told her while handing her water. "Slow," he grunted when she gulped quickly. Coughing a little she handed it back.

They walked fast but didn't run again. Moving through the trees Merle headed in a direction with no real end in sight. He didn't have a goal other than finding shelter and hiding out until he could get a car. Then they'd drive as far away from the hellhole called Woodbury and hopefully escape the Governor's grasp.

After another half hour of hiking they came upon a tiny strip mall of a few businesses. The end one was a discount grocery store of some kind but the others were tiny businesses. Finding one on the opposite end of the store Merle went in and cleared it of threats. The woman came in and sat down. Her legs were trembling and he could see her hands shaking.

"Ok I'm gonna search the next couple shops. Stay here." He told her moving to the door briskly.

"Wait." She exclaimed in a hushed voice rushing towards him.

"What?" He asked gruffly. He needed to get them supplies and didn't need woman drama.

"Just…. You're coming back right?" She asked her eyes wide.

"Ya girl. Be right back." He said in his gravelly voice. Merle wasn't a softy. He was a mean old bastard who didn't care about anyone but himself and well his little brother wherever the hell he was. Merle didn't help others or do kind deeds unless they got him money, drugs or laid. Not one to obey the law or feel guilt, he wasn't a good man. He knew that but for some reason beyond him, he was helping a tiny blonde woman and he wasn't even looking to get laid. He shook his head at the absurdity of it.

Searching the next few shops Merle killed several rotting corpses. One shop was a drycleaners so he found clothing for the woman.

'Fuck what's 'er name?' He thought. 'Fuck it. Who cares? Find 'er a place to stay and ditch 'er. Ain't needin' no ball and chain on the run. Just gonna weigh ya down.'

The discount grocery store had some canned food and a case of water. He hauled everything he found back to the tiny office she was in. The tiny blonde was sitting in the same spot, perched on the edge of the chair, her hands wringing in her lap. When he came in she stood up and grabbed the water off his shoulder he held with his prosthetic limb.

"Got some clothes. Don' know woman sizes, make 'em work." He told her shoving the plastic covered clothing at her.

"Thanks," she said her voice hoarse. Clearing her throat she whispered, "Why are you helping me?"

"Fuck if I know." He grumbled. "Ain't never helped no one before. Guess I drank some bad hooch or sumthin'"

She nodded. "Thanks just the same."

Not responding to her gratitude Merle said, "Stayin' 'er tonight. Tomorrah I can take ya back to your camp but gotta tell ya... He already knew where it was, they hit it tonight." She looked at him like he was speaking tongues. Her head turned slightly, her eyes unfocused.

Merle wondered if she had family there. If she did they were as good as dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

"My uncle was there." She said flatly.

"He prolly ain't alive. They took it to the studs. Burned it down." He said looking away from her watery eyes, the sight of it making his skin itch.

"Goin' there outta the question?" She asked her cheeks flushed, her lip gripped between her teeth.

Merle felt uncomfortable looking at her. He wasn't big on feelings. The only one useful to him was anger. It fueled most of his decisions.

"Ain't gonna help none. Nothin' to go back to… Sorry girl." Merle told her feeling anxious under her stare. Cutting his eyes away and then back to her, he saw her scrubbed her face and nod. "Ok. Ok." She mumbled.

"Gotta clean those cuts up. I don' got any bandages. Just water 'n a clean shirt." He told her gesturing for her to take the shirt off.

She looked up at him with wary eyes.

"Ain't gonna hurt ya girl. Just got my ass on the Gov's shit list for stoppin' it from happenin'." He said harshly.

Nodding she sat down on a tiny love seat and turned her back to him, removing his bloody shirt. Merle hissed through his teeth. The wounds were angry and weeping, the skin inflamed and in need of antibiotics. "These are real doozies." He muttered while opening a bottle of water.

"Ya got any other cuts 'sides these 'n your lip?" Merle had no idea what else the sick fuck did to her. They left so quickly he hadn't noticed.

"I... He.." She stammered, her voice cracking.

"Spit it out girl" he growled while he wet a clean t-shirt to use on her back. She yelped at the cloth touching her wounds. "Hush," he grunted.

"He bit me." She said so quickly he almost didn't understand her. Merle stopped, his hand hovering over her back. Clenching his teeth together he felt rage roll through him. It was an old feeling to Merle. He felt it almost daily but it was the reason that caused his rage that was odd. Protective. He felt protective of this stranger.

'What the fuck are ya thinkin ya pussy?' He growled to himself.

"Lemme see." He demanded, his voice low and gravelly.

"Its on m-my chest." She stammered. Merle took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to extinguish his anger.

After a long moment he rasped, "After the lip."

He cleaned her back and then had her turn toward him. She covered her chest with his shirt while he cleaned her lip. Hissing at the pain of the rough cloth, she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears leaked down her cheeks while he worked. Merle did his best to ignore them but couldn't stop from wiping them away with the unused part of cloth.

"Hush, gonna be fine," he stated his blue eyes burning into hers. "Lemme see."

Taking a shaky breath she lowered the shirt to show him the bite mark. It was near the center of her chest. The skin was broken and bleeding but there was no tearing, just a deep bite mark that would most likely scar. Merle wiped it with a clean part of the cloth and then grunted at her letting her know he was done.

"Get dressed." He said shortly, standing and walking away. His gut was twisting at the sight of her injuries. The idea of going back and gutting the sick fuck crossed his mind.

She started pulling off the plastic to the dry cleaning. Inside was a pair of black pants and sweater. Both fit her ok but the legs and arms where too long for her short frame.

"You're short as fuck ain't ya." He chuckled as she rolled the hems up three times.

"Shuddup" she grumbled but smirked. "Nothin wrong with being short."

"Never said there was. What's your name girl?" He asked handing her a can of fruit he scavenged.

"Sam Warren ." She said pulling a peach out of the tiny can.

Merle introduced himself and asked through a mouthful of fruit cocktail, "Merle Dixon. Sam short for somethin?"

"Samantha but was always called Sam." She said plopping another syrupy fruit in her mouth.

"So why did your group have just you out scavenging?" he asked gruffly. "No men with any balls to do the work?"

"I may not look capable but I can hold my own. Work better by myself so I usually do… did, the supply runs." Sam said wiping her hands on her pants.

Grunting in response Merle walked to the window to keep watch. "Lay down, get some sleep."

Watching out the window Merle stood guard for the remainder of the night. Occasionally he'd look at Sam and saw her tossing and turning on the tiny sofa, her short frame filling up the small cushions.

Shaking his head Merle scoffed at the strange situation. He just threw away a cushy life in a secure town where he had three squares, a bed to sleep in and a few girls he liked to fuck.

Now?

Now he was out in the wild with a short little girl who probably didn't know her ass from her elbow even if she did claim to be able to take care of herself.

'Ain't no girl Merle. Ya saw those tits. No girl's got curves like that,' he thought but mentally kicked himself in the balls. He was a sick bastard but that was over the line even for him. She was hurt and almost raped. Sam didn't need some dirty old man looking at her tits. Instantly Merle felt another emotion he'd never really felt before. Guilt.

"Pffft." He scoffed quietly, "Fuckin' pussy."

In the morning he woke her and made her drink and eat. 'Never had or wanted a pet before.' He grumbled to himself.

He hadn't found shoes for her so they would have to find a vehicle soon. Her feet were torn up from running in the forest. He hadn't even looked at them the night before.

"Fuck your feet look like shit." He growled, angry that he hadn't noticed or even thought about it.

'Dumbfuck,' he berated himself.

"Well I ran miles through the forest without shoes on." She snarked, her eyebrow raised.

"Well no need for the sass Sugar. Jus' sayin…." He was telling her but paused when he heard a car driving over broken glass.

"Get down," he growled unceremoniously pushing her head to the ground. Crawling over to the window he looked out. An old suburban was parked outside the looted grocery store. He could hear two people talking, a man and a woman. Merle knew it wasn't the Governor's people because he didn't send women out on hunting trips. Thinking it might be his opportunity to get a vehicle and book-it Merle opened the door slightly. He had no qualms about stealing from people. He wasn't a good guy after all. Even with the little rescue mission he was on, he wouldn't pretend that he had morals. Merle grabbed Sam's arm, dragging her to the door and put his finger to his lips.

"Gonna take this car. Quiet." He said without letting her answer. Being pretty sure she'd object to the theft, he wasn't going to allow her to voice an opinion on the matter.

Pulling open the door he moved along the storefront with Sam in tow, dragging her by her wrist. They were halfway there when the man and women stepped out through the broken storefront. All four froze instantly, each looking surprised and wide-eyed.

"Merle? " Glenn asked a look of confusion and shock.

Thank you for reading my new fanfic! I thought I would try my hand at a Merle/OC story. Hope you enjoyed it, please fav, follow and review!