Merle is a great character, and he needs more fics! This one is just a little something I've been thinking about, its kind of AU, but I do have ideas for turning it into a multi chaptered story. Please let me know if you want me to try it!

I take no credit on anything Walking Dead related.

Merle Dixon wasn't exactly who Hannah McKinnon had planned on spending the zombie apocalypse with. Well, to be honest she didn't plan on there ever being a zombie apocalypse in the first place. But here she was, in the middle of one, with a backwoods hillbilly, of all people.

It was a complete accident they'd found each other, really. Well, rather he found her. It's not every day you lay down to sleep on the side of the highway only to have a giant redneck trip over you. To be fair, he'd lost a lot of blood from that missing hand, she couldn't exactly fault him for nearly crushing her. She'd have killed him right on the spot, if he hadn't mumbled a string of very choice profanities that clearly showed he wasn't one of those undead freaks.

She supposed it was a combination of her caring nature and downright loneliness that had made her strive to keep him alive. Hey, a crude backwoods hillbilly was better than no company, right? Not that he was much company anyways. Mostly he just lay there and hallucinated about some guys named "Daryl" and "Officer Friendly." Didn't matter if he could speak coherently, Hannah had been a selective mute since she was 16. Wasn't like she was gonna break that for him. She did wish they could get away from the highway. He was too big for her to move, however, so they'd stayed there in the brush by the highway, like huge targets for hungry geeks.

Of course, they hadn't been eaten. Some guy calling himself the Governor had come crashing into their little hideaway, and whisked them off to what he called "Woodbury." Merle was worse off then she was, she honestly thought he would die from infection and that would be that. But no, the doctor had been able to save him. She was thankful he was alive, it always hurt to see another human die, but she did not expect that she'd have much more to do with him.

How wrong she was.

As soon as they were both well, the Governor had questioned them. Where were they from? Were there others with them? How long had they been on the highway? Hannah had started to try to sign for a paper and pencil, but Merle suddenly spoke, spinning a tale of total lies. He told the Governor how she was his. They had gotten separated from their group when a herd attacked them, had to cut off his hand due to a bite, then they got stuck at the side of the highway due to his injury.

Hannah had been stunned, honestly. It wasn't hard to see that Merle was protecting her. In some parts of the new world, girls that didn't already belong to a man were a rape waiting to happen. Hannah had seen it first hand. If she already belonged to Merle, then she was basically untouchable here (she didn't know if anyone would try anything, but one never did know). She didn't know why he'd done it. Maybe his addled mind had registered her care while they were on the highway. Maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he just wanted to get into her pants. Whatever it was, she now was his. And that spun her life in a whole new direction.

He was an emotional cripple, and that was being nice. He was rude to everybody but the Governor, had a racist streak a mile wide, and a penance for violence. He never said much to her, except for the occasional command like "Woman, git me some dinner," or "Woman, my clothes is filthy, wash em." She didn't like being ordered around, but at least he wasn't berating her like he did other people. And he never lay a hand on her. It was like she was his weird little pet.

They somehow fell into an odd but comfortable routine. He'd be out with the Governor all day, she'd amuse herself around town whatever way she could. He'd come home, they'd eat, then she'd read while he cleaned his guns. Then he'd go out for drinks, and she'd go to bed. He'd come stumbling home at some odd hour, eat whatever she left our for him, then pass out of the couch. It never bothered her that they didn't really interact. They were just two random people, living together by complete and utter chance. Besides, she didn't think Merle was the kind of guy for small talk anyways. Despite all the weirdness of the situation, Merle was starting to grow on her.

One sunny day in March, things changed.

Two new people had just come into town. One, a scary looking African American, the other, a very sick blonde. Apparently, the blonde knew Merle. She'd been part of his previous group. That intrigued Hannah. She didn't know he'd come from a group. A group that had apparently also boasted his brother.

Merle had just gotten home from speaking to the blonde, and they'd just sat down to supper. It was the usual noise of clanking forks against plates, until Merle suddenly set down his fork and did something he'd never done before.

"I'm gonna go look for my brother."

Hannah was so surprised she dropped the butter dish. He'd never, ever said anything to her that wasn't a command. She stared at him, eyes wide.

Merle ignored her blatant stare. "Blondie gave me direction to an old farmhouse they were holed up in. Imma start there, maybe they're still there. If not, I'll find some tracks, keep looking."

Hannah slowly nodded, trying to process what he was saying. He was leaving. To look for his brother. And she was going to stay here. She was surprised that the thought made her slightly sad.

She made a motion to her wrist, tapping it like she was tapping at a watch face.

"When?" Merle knew exactly what she was trying to say. "I was thinkin' in a few days time. Gives me time to get some supplies together, and to getcha up to speed on your new weapon."

Hannah cocked an eyebrow at him quizzically. New weapon? Was he thinking that she needed a way to protect herself while he was gone? She certainly would be vulnerable without him there, but she liked to think she could handle her own.

Merle let out a chuckle at her raised brow. "Now now girlie, don'tcha go thinking that ol' Merle thinks of ya as some defenseless little girl. I know ya can be a little firecracker when ya need to be. I wasn't totally out of it on that highway."

Hannah started. He remembered the highway? That was so long ago, and he'd been so out of it! Not as out of it as she thought, obviously. She didn't know what to make of that. A part of her was mad he'd never said thank you. She'd kept him alive those 4 days, fed him, changed his bandages, kept the few walkers at bay. If he remembered, surely he should say something!

Her anger must have showed on her face, because Merle instantly reacted to it. "Come on woman, ya know I ain't the type to apologize," he grinned toothily at her. "In fact, I ain't never apologized in my life! I ain't gonna start with you."

Hannah sighed irritably. Of course he wasn't. Didn't mean she couldn't glare at him in disdain. Unfortunely, Merle found her glare rather amusing.

"Aw, come on, sugar," he laughed, waving his silver prosthetic at her. "Don't be like that. You keep pouting and ol' Merle may change his mind about taking you with him."

Hannah nearly fell off her chair.

"You really think I was gonna leave ya behind?" Merle continued as if he hadn't seen her just about crack her head on the floor. "Nah, think I'll take ya with me. Wouldn't do if I was with out my little pet. 'Sides," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "I might get lonely out there all by me lonesome."

Well, knock her down and call her stupid, but Hannah McKinnon was floored. Merle wanted to take her with him. Merle Dixon, the man who only did things for himself, who could be rude and violent and kill you in a second, wanted to take little mute Hannah on his mission to retrieve his brother. Like when he claimed her, she had no idea what his reasons were. She was pretty sure he wouldn't just drag her out there to attack her, he'd had plenty of opportunity for that and never touched her. So what was it?

Maybe it was the amount of time they'd spent together, Maybe it was the fact he'd never hurt her. Maybe it was that she was just damn well getting attached to the bloody redneck. Whatever it was, she found she didn't care why he wanted her to come. They were a pair now. Merle and Hannah, Hannah and Merle. It felt oddly natural to head out to the woods by his side, like they were Tonto and the Lone Ranger or something. The thought made her giggle.

She watched Merle pick up his fork and continue eating. He seemed to think the matter was closed, and really, it was. She would go with him. She would help him find his brother, or die trying. The world was a broken place, people needed to stick together now more than ever. She'd stick with Merle, come hell or high water. And she had a funny feeling he'd stick with her right back.

Hannah smiled.

She'd finally started to grow on Merle Dixon.

I know Merle is a little out of character, but I like to think he's changed a bit now that he's in Woodbury. Love to all my readers!