It's been 4 months since I updated this story - I apologize and am going to try to work on finishing it over the course of the next few weeks. Thank you to those who have continued to read it, review it and urge me on to keep going with it. It means a lot that it's entertaining TWD fans despite being awhile since I've written! Let's see how this chapter pans out. It actually took me from October till now to write the 4,425 words. I hope you enjoy - please let me know if you do. Here it is ~ Kat

His boots squished in the mud that had formed along the fence line from the recent rains, in fact Merle's sleeveless shirt was still damp from tonight's storm.

He was far out of Daryl's sight moving toward the weak spot between the wall and the fence where he'd been sneaking in, not believing that as careful as they'd been that they hadn't found it and sealed it up tight. Once he got there he realized why. The dead had filtered back through another breach in the fencing from the inside and now lined up along the thick wire mesh, snarling, wheezing and digging with their fingers, their teeth snapping because they smelled him. This had been his way in and out for weeks now. He hadn't counted on their work pushing the mindless, rotting corpses back this far.

Glancing around the immediate area, he listened as the resounding growls blocked out all other sound. The click of his knife was something he felt, rather than heard and still it gave him the reassurance he could defend himself if he needed to. So far no shadows lurked among the trees and as he sank back away from the fence trying to figure out what to do, his heart pounded with fear rather than anger. He hadn't planned on going back to Woodbury, hadn't counted on this cluster fuck of a setback. The Governor probably had a posse out on his ass and a price on his head by now – no one left Woodbury without permission. Hell, no one left period. The only reason Merle had been allowed to come and go so far was because the Gov had sent him on those special missions. He'd left on his own accord earlier that day, escaped and it felt good. He'd been under that asshole's thumb for far too long. It could've ended badly when he'd been taken to Woodbury all those months ago, hell he'd seen it end badly for many others. He was grateful that the men had taken him in but the Governor; Merle knew why he'd kept him alive. He should be grateful to him, but he wasn't. He'd been prepared to die out there, come to terms with it and he was done being his indentured servant.

The snarling grew more intense and for a moment it confused him. He was well out of their range of smell by now but he figured it out quick when he felt slender fingers grasping the hem of his shirt. The knife came short of her chin when he realized by the scent and the feel of her that she wasn't dead. Question remained, who the fuck had followed his ass? He knew the answer as soon as placed where he'd smelled that soap before; Woodbury.

Tucking the knife back in place he wheeled to face her grasping her wrist tightly. "Hello Blondie." He said into her ear, not hearing the words leave his mouth. "Come to feed the dead, huh?" He taunted, but he was already leading her away from the fence. How he hadn't guessed she'd been trailin' him, he didn't know, unless – "Where's your BFF?" He hissed into her ear. The quiet one, the darkie, she was good at trackin', sneaky bitch.

Andrea dug her fingernails deep into his wrist, right at the elbow, but he just chuckled.

"She stayed back, keeping an eye on the big guy." Her voice floated into his ear, cold and even.

"I don't believe ya." He growled.

"What difference does it make?"

He felt his grip slipping on her and she spun to face him.

"Don't do this. Please."

Merle pressed further into the woods, the noise was aggravating as hell. "And what is it you think I'm fixin' ta do Blondie, huh?"

She walked in front of him, hauling her brown back pack higher on her shoulder. "You don't have to do hurt them."

They'd already had this discussion earlier in the day which ended with him pulling off the contraption on his arm and waving his ugly stump around in her face. "Daryl's my only concern." He told her in a low voice. "Always has been." No point in giving her any more information than she needed and if she had any brains in her pretty little head, she'da realized by now that he couldn't get in to hurt anyone. When he met her eyes, the smirk on her face told him she already knew. With his good hand he came at her quicker than she anticipated and pinned her against the nearest tree. "How'd ya think you'd protect them?" He drawled, feeling the back pack and the weapons she had packed inside. "You plannin' on killin' me?"

She squirmed beneath his forearm, but flashed him those icy blue eyes of hers. "What's it matter? You're just mad you can't get in." It made him want to hit her in the worst way. What stopped him from holding her there and smackin' the shit outta her, he couldn't say. He wheeled back and slammed his fist into the bark near her head instead, causing her to flinch, slightly. When he drew back, examining his knuckles she ducked out of his reach. "Had enough?"

The walkers were slowly lumbering away from the fence, quieting the darkness. He could barely make out the outline of her face.

"Come back with me. We'll say it was me who escaped, that you talked me into coming back."

Merle mulled the idea over for a minute before shaking his head, rubbing his knuckles across his cargos. "You're on your own." He started back toward the prison when he felt her fingers dig into his shoulder. "I said you're on your - "

His words were stopped by her fist, which hit his lips and nose, blood trickling from both instantly. He staggered but caught himself before he fell. "Wha the fuck?"

"You're not getting in that way." She all but yelled.

Maybe not that way. He thought. But he'd find another way in. The grease rag he carried in his back pocket out of habit rarely got used anymore, but he pulled it out now, dabbing at his face. "Bitch." He seethed.

"Call me all the names you want but your plan fell through and I can get you back into Woodbury."

He glanced back at the fencing, peering through the leaves. The dead wandered aimlessly, their scent too far away now to pick up, still she was right. He just didn't wanna admit it.

"It's a days walk back. How'd ya figure on getting us back in?" He queried.

Andrea straightened, even smiled a little. "I got a car."

Daryl thrust his chin in the direction of where Merle disappeared gritting his teeth together, his heart racing. For months after finding only his brother's hand on that rooftop in Atlanta, he went on the premise that he'd see Merle again. It was what drove his hope in finding Sophia. Once she shambled out of Herschel's barn, bitten and turned, his hope had slowly dwindled, until seeing him last week. He'd seemed like a mirage, much less real than the man he'd just faced. He wanted him back, bristles, warts and all, wanted to call out to his brother to come back, but he'd call every living dead creature out of the nearby woods. His fingers grasped the fencing until the wire wore grooves into his calluses. He'll be back.

Finally, unsure of how long he'd been standing there peering into the darkness, he loosened his grip on the fence moving his fingers around to shake off the numbness he felt in them. A vast difference from what was going on inside him.

There was no denying that whatever lay beyond them in the prison was somethin' Merle was aware of. He'd hit a nerve there. On or off drugs Merle was still Merle. It was obvious in the way he kept sneakin' off, disobeying orders. And if he'd told the leader of his group where they were, they would'a had company by now.

"I get it." Rick said later when Daryl woke him. "You didn't wanna cause a panic."

Daryl wasn't sure whether Rick was pissed at him or not. "He's different now – he's clean." Daryl explained, but then decided against trying to plead his case. "It's bad regardless." He muttered, moving past his emotions to tell Rick that Merle had known they'd come to Atlanta not only for him but for the bag of guns as well.

"The only person who could've told him that was Andrea." Rick said.

"Uh-huh, so wherever he's shacked up, that's where she and Michonne are." He gave Rick a brief nod, though he couldn't imagine the possibility of Merle co-existing with anyone void of problems. "Had to be her. Merle wasn't in any shape to lurk around spyin' on us while we was there. He would'a come back to camp with a vengeance eventually but we would'a been gone by that time. Somethin' slowed him down. Blood loss." Daryl ventured. "Maybe someone found him it's hard to say."

He tried to speak without feeling. It wasn't easy to do – this was Merle- Merle who he'd gone through hell and back with – Merle who'd tortured Daryl as much as Daryl had tortured himself. He'd trapped himself in a life of just existing there in that little shit shanty of a house until their daddy finally died.

Despite everything his brother had ever done in his life, he hadn't deserved that – accident or not. Daryl understood it'd been a freak accident. T-Dog had dropped the key. Merle however wasn't the type of person that'd forgive and forget regardless of the circumstances. He didn't get that these were decent people and Daryl had no idea if he'd ever be able to convince him, didn't know if it was even worth tryin'.

Rick clasped his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I'll take over. Why don'tcha get some sleep." There was a moment of hesitation where they both froze. "I need to know somethin'." Rick said.

"Shoot." Daryl knew what was comin'.

"If he comes back and there's any chance he – I just gotta be sure - "

"If he comes back nothin's gonna happen. He's my brother. I ain't lettin' no one after him. You lemme handle it. But he ain't gonna hurt anyone. I won't have it." He stopped before handing Rick the flashlight and pointed to the row of windows. "Carol's right. Keep an eye on that spot right there. Merle knows somethin' 'bout it."

Rick gave him a look, raising his eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"Walkers, they shift around, you know how they move. There's somethin' else up there. He an' I both saw it."

Rick blew a long, hearty breath out from between his lips. "We'll push on." He told him, determination lacing his words. "Get in there tomorrow, clear C. We'll keep goin' till we get to where there's food, and weapons. It's all we can do. This is better than what we've dealt with for awhile now."

Daryl nodded, conceding. "No need to explain."

Crawling into the tent, he tried not to wake Carol. Discussing the matter with Rick was as far as it was going until they came face to face with whoever was in the prison or Merle. And more and more he tried not to think of it as them walling themselves in. The promise of a good night's sleep and the supplies within were worth whatever lay before them.

He sat on the edge of the blankets and kicked off his boots off immediately feeling her react to his presence.

"You okay?" She murmured, reaching out to place her hand on his back.

He grunted his response, grasping her wrist to move it so he could lie next to her. His muscles taut, he stretched out on his back placing his arms behind his head, feeling the cool breeze flow through the nylon. He was grateful she fell back to sleep, her hair just grazing the underside of his arm.

When his eyes finally closed, and each knot under his skin slowly loosened up, Merle invaded his dreams.

A day later he was lying in the perch inside cell block C in the exact same position. It'd been a struggle to get in, the place was a mess and wreaked of death but they'd made it despite having to clear the last part by going hand to hand with the walkers and even coming across some dressed in shields and armor.

Carol knew something was up, but she let him be; only tilting her head in curiosity when he marched his way past she and Lori explaining he wasn't sleepin' in no cage.

The days were growing longer and light seeped through the frosted windows. He lay on his sleeping bag, missing the feel of her next to him, though he was too stubborn to admit it. He didn't really think she'd mind bunking with Lori and the baby until more permanent arrangements could be made.

She'd been in such a good frame of mind once they'd made it past the door, the smile hadn't faded from her lips even when he'd announced where he'd be sleeping. It felt good to finally be indoors, even if they were down to the bare minimum on food. His stomach growled as he shifted his weight, rolling onto his side to curb a cramp.

Rick had said they'd find the infirmary, cafeteria, more weapons and ammo in the morning. He only hoped the halls weren't thick with the dead, or anything else for that matter.

Glenn had taken watch after Rick the night before and neither of them saw what he and Merle had seen. Maybe he'd let his brother spook him. Who knew? One thing was clear, no one other than he and Rick knew of Merle's visit and that's how they'd agreed to keep it. They'd pulled together as a team in taking this part of the prison and Rick didn't want to risk the moral of the group over another possible threat or two.

The more he thought about it, the more he had no doubt that his brother had been in the prison before and if there was anything that lay waiting for them, his brother knew what it was.

It was midnight by his watch a few hours later when he noticed a shadow slip out of the third cell down. Carol's willowy frame crept closer, her arms bundled tight in front of her breasts.

"You awake?" She asked when her feet touched his sleeping bag.

He grunted his response, sitting up to take in her thin silhouette in front of him. Reaching out, he urged her to sit next to him. She looked like she might fall over.

"The baby sleepin'? Lori okay?" He asked as she sat cross-legged, next to him.

"She's out like a light. Lori too."

"How 'bout you? Should be exhausted." She and Lori had helped until they ran low on ammo, and then clambered around the fence distracting what walkers they could, stabbing them with their knives and crowbars.

"I am. Nerves are too raw, I just can't sleep. Just wanted to check on ya. Everything alright?"

He knew why she was inquiring and only dared glance over briefly, squinting to see her. "Just fine. Get some shut eye." He said, hating the fact that he was pushing her away, but if she sat there any longer, he'd fess up, he knew.

She gave him a look partly filled with frustration. The other part filled with curiosity. "I can try, I 'spose." She stood before he could reach her hand to help her up, but caught the tips of her fingers in his as she began to walk away. It wasn't until he touched her that her expression gave away the true confusion she was feeling.

"Go on, we need ta sleep, Rick's gonna come get me 'fore dawn."

He watched her chest rise and fall and her eyes began to glisten. "Night Daryl." She managed before she pulled her fingers from his grasp but paused as the clicking footsteps began above them.

Daryl tried not to make eye contact with her but it was obvious in the way her head darted around trying to locate the source of the noise that she'd heard them.

"Rick's in the guard tower. I thought I was goin' crazy back in the cell but I kept hearin'- "

He let out a huff, standing in his stocking feet. "Walkers." He blurted out.

When she put her hands on her hips and tucked her head down, eyes locked on his in disbelief, he knew she was no fool. Well he'd known that all along. "They shuffle; they don't walk with purpose, not like that." Her last three words were whispered as more footsteps sounded right over them, but softer. "Get Rick." She mouthed silently, eyes wide.

He put a finger to his lips, grasping her wrist gently and shook his head no.

Her hips swung the other way and she slipped her arm from his hold. "He knows." She whispered knowingly.

Daryl stepped forward his hands up and she inched her way backwards to the corner leading to her cell.

"There are others here." She said simply. "You were keepin' it quiet 'till we got in. What are we gonna do? Fight them for the supplies?"

He didn't know. All he knew was this had been their plan for weeks and they were going through with it. "We're stickin' to the plan. We need this place." His crossbow lay near his sleeping bag. Giving her one last glare, he grabbed it and his boots and made his way down the metal staircase barely making a squeak. He could feel her behind him and when he made it to the metal door; he peered out, pulling his flashlight from his pocket. The hall beyond the holding area that led into Block C was empty as far as he could see. Further away the groans of the dead could be heard.

Something warm came up around his shoulders and he realized it was his poncho. "It's damp in here."

He gripped the bar with one hand and stood there for a moment debating on getting firm with her and sending her back to her cell. When time ticked by and she moved to gaze through the bars with him, he gave up the ghost. "Here." He said gruffly, tossing the flashlight into her hands. "You're so bright eyed and bushy tailed, sit with me and listen."

They sat together, hearing nothing more than the distant, hoarse breathing of the walkers. The poncho was wide enough to envelope both of them and she'd latched onto the frayed edge of the material to keep it secure around her chest, leaning towards him but not on him. It was like they were unsure of each other all over again and mostly because he was unable to talk to her about seeing Merle.

It don't matter now anyhow. He told himself, she was almost asleep, her head bobbing, occasionally bumping his shoulder. When they head a door slam, her head came up, alert, but her eyes squinted in the dark.

"It was up tha' way." He nudged back to his perch. "We'da heard it better if we'd been up there."

"There right above us then." She whispered.

Daryl nodded. "And they know we're here. Ain't no way they don't after all the gunfire earlier today."

Carol pulled her feet up close to her, wrapping her arms around her knees. There wasn't much more to say. It made no sense to leave now. Eight long months running scared, the cabin being the place they'd found to stay the longest and even there it'd never been this secure. This was finally someplace they could keep the walkers out. And Carol was right in her assumption – Rick planned on them fighting for it, fighting the dead and the living if they had to.

"Something's going on." Lori told her in the lowest of whispers as they prepared what cans of vegetables they had left for breakfast.

Carol put on her game face, scooping out the rest of the beans into the large pot they'd brought along. Even if she didn't agree with Rick and Daryl hiding what they knew, she had no choice but to go along with their reasoning. Daryl brushed by her, crossbow shouldered, carrying boxes of food inside their cell block. His eyes briefly connected with hers and she recognized the concern there, the worry. Giving him a brief furrow of her brow, his face relaxed as he moved into the space of the room beyond her. She'd been told she had the patience of a saint but this was quite the test.

It'd been early when Rick roused them in the doorway, sending Herschel out to the guard tower, and then he, Daryl, T-Dog, Maggie and Glenn had gone in search of food, coming back with boxes of canned goods, dried baking mixes, sugar and flour.

Carol dusted the weevils out from in between the creases of the bags of flour and glanced up to the perch where Rick and Daryl were heavy in discussion.

"See?" Lori asked moving past her, working diligently. Her energy was back tenfold. She'd slept hard last night, but Carol had to wonder if she'd heard the footfalls above them once Judith woke for a feeding. She decided to wait for Lori to say something first.

"Maybe they're tryin' to figure out what area to clear next or how to get to the infirmary." Carol mused, stacking the flour and baking goods in the cool shade far from where the sunlight filtered through the windows illuminating millions of dust fragments.

They caught Lori's eye too. "Hopefully they'll find some decent rags, sponges and cleanin' products. I don't know about you but I'm itchin' to scrub this place top to bottom."

The place was a mess. It looked like they'd come in and let most of the convicts out of their cells as the epidemic had progressed.

"Pure chaos." Daryl had remarked the day before, when they were finally shown where they'd make themselves at home. Dried blood and other viscous bodily fluids marred the walls, inside and outside the cells. Files, loose papers, keys and bullet casings scattered the area. More than a few flies buzzed around even though they'd cleared the area of the bodies the day before. Carol swatted one away from her ear when she noticed Daryl and Rick glancing in her direction.

"I wish he'd let me in." Lori whispered scooting by her to cover the stacked flour with a clean sheet. "There's never any time to clear things up, so it's all swept under the rug in a nice neat hidden pile." She kept on working, her lips in a firm line, covering the bags of flour, making sure everything was sealed up tight, while Carol worked on wrapping the bags of sugar.

Once they were done they stood back and Carol touched her arm. "Maybe once things settle down here." But even as she said it her stomach knotted up, remembering they weren't alone. It was then that she realized Lori knew. She watched her swallow, her eyes briefly flickering to the ceiling high above them. "There's no place that's safe." Lori whispered, clasping Carol's hand back before she walked away.

Keys clinked and the cell block door opened again with T-Dog and Glenn hauling in a large box labeled Spam on the side. Going back out single file, they came back with another box that held powdered eggs. Carol's stomach rumbled, and despite everything they all needed a good meal before they tackled much more.

She felt T-Dog's strong hand brush her shoulder as he went into the holding area beyond the cell and brought in the small grill they'd had for awhile.

"That a hint?" She mused, hand going to her hip.

T-Dog glanced around, unsure of how to respond. "I don't know about you but I'm about sick to death of canned beans and canned carrots."

"I was joking." She told him, going back to the pot of vegetables she'd started. The tension eased out of his features. "I'll get breakfast going if you make coffee." She told him. Out of anyone in the group he knew how to make it the way she liked it - strong and savory.

He chuckled at that and they set to work on the small propane grill.

Awhile later, it was quiet aside from the clinking of silverware against the variety of dinnerware they had to eat off of. Daryl sat with Rick on the steps leading off the perch, glancing at her every now and then. It was when she drew water from one of the sinks in the cleanest cell that she found him blocking her way out. His arm rested above his head and his eyes burned into hers. He wanted to tell her something, she could feel it between them.

"Daryl, I need to get the dishes done up."

He stepped back, but not far, dropping his arm and looked in both directions before he spoke.

"When T-Dog's on watch tonight, Rick and I are checking out what's up there."

They'd made it as far as the cafeteria and taken down more than a few walkers on their way. She'd heard Glenn and Maggie discussing in whispers how odd it'd been finding all they needed in the cafeteria all set out like it was there waiting for them.

The plan had been discussed over breakfast to find the infirmary, more weapons, more ammo. That was key she figured before Daryl and Rick went on this mission of theirs later on.

"At night?" She asked, feeling her brow wrinkle in worry.

"Figure we'd take care of it quick."

Carol let out a sigh and began to pace. So no one else would know or panic. She thought.

"We gotta the baby to think about, two more kids that need protectin'." Daryl said.

She agreed. "We can't wait for them, whoever they are to come to us."

Daryl nodded slowly. "You wanna come with us?"

She stopped as her right boot touched the cement. He really didn't just ask me for help, did he?