Chapter Three

Maggie watched the new prison residents buzz around her, and felt increasingly out of place.

At first everyone felt the same… baring the relief of a few supply runs to the remains of Woodbury, the tension of waiting for the Governor's imminent return set everyone's teeth on edge.

However, what they had assumed would be a brief respite had extended into days, then a week, then two… prison life, which had at first seemed to exist in a state of pure suspense, began to settle into what might be called relative normality. At least in the sense that every day was the same repetitive grind of eating bad food, taking watch and doing chores before falling asleep to do it all over again.

This meant that the thoughts in Maggie's head circled her once more. Thoughts she didn't want to examine too closely. Thoughts that she could never speak of to her father, or even Beth… no, in fact Beth would be the worst person to speak to of them; she would certainly never understand.

It didn't help that she could feel the presence of Merle, circling her too in his strange way; she assumed waiting for the opportunity to fuck her like he said. It wasn't that he sought her out, or spoke to her any more than he did anyone else, nor even that he treated her any differently when he did have to interact with her, but… somehow, she always knew where he was, and she somehow knew his focus was on her, even when she was decidedly not looking at him.

It amazed her how a man universally perceived as being noisy and volatile could have such long periods of silent intensity with no one else noticing. Still, she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of surrender... in more ways than one she though wryly... although, she would be lying if the idea didn't give her the slightest, strangest thrill. What the hell was wrong with her?

Unfortunately, he was not the only Dixon brother with a watchful nature.

"Ya pull that same shit on Merle that ya pulled on me?" he asked one day, as they were alone on watch. As Maggie's startled eyes met his narrowed gaze, she couldn't help but feel he didn't really want to know. She looked away and sighed.

"It doesn't mean anything, Daryl. It's just release."

"Can't understan' ya fuckin' women," he muttered, his voice containing an undertone of anger, "Thought ya fuckin' lo…" he stopped himself as the flash in her eyes dared him to continue. "Thought ya cared 'bout Glenn, then there yer are, fuckin' tha man that threw a goddamn walker at him…"

"He's your brother," Maggie responded, stung, "you don't ignore him because of what he did!"

"Yeah, 'cos he's my fuckin' brother. Ya ain't got that excuse. Ya was meant ta be loyal ta Glenn."

"I was loyal to Glenn. I grieved for Glenn. But he's dead, and my wearing the damn willow for him won't change that. I don't see why it matters to you anyway."

Daryl's gaze shifted away, and it suddenly hit her.

"Oh, Daryl… you and Glenn…"

"What tha fuck are yer talkin' 'bout woman?" he snapped, hefting his crossbow twitchily. To Maggie it was as good as a confession, and she could help but try to reach out to him.

"I know, Daryl. Merle told me."

The look in his eyes was one of a cornered animal as he shied away from her outstretched hand, "Ya don't know shit! An' neither does Merle."

"He knows you're gay, Daryl," she said calmly, and at Daryl's instinctive gesture of rejection, she added, "he told me. He's always known, but I… I only realised when he told me…"

She took a deep breath; she could the truth in his face even as she said it.

"…and you cared about Glenn, didn't you? That's why what happened with me and Merle upset you…"

"I ain't no fag," Daryl cut her off sharply, "an' don't ya fuckin' dare say otherwise!" he snarled, before storming off.

Maggie eyes were sad but understanding as she watched him go, before they snapped open on realising the direction he was headed.

Dammit, she couldn't leave the fence unguarded!

Looking around, after a minute she saw Tyreese coming outside, and managed to get his attention. When he jogged over, she thrust her gun quickly into his hands. "Take over for a minute, would you? Back in five."

She barely stayed long enough to hear his surprised "Sure thing…" before she was running for the cell block where Daryl had gone. As soon as she entered she could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

Rounding the corner, she saw the brothers wrestling with each other, before breaking apart to trade punches instead. Stunned for moment, she watched the impressive sight. Both men were powerful and fairly evenly matched, though in addition to appearing the more experienced brawler, Merle had clearly learned to compensate for the lack of his hand as well.

However, as she watched Daryl land a solid fist on his brother's jaw while Merle simultaneously rammed the prosthetic solidly into Daryl's ribs, she knew she couldn't let it go on, not when it was her fault. All things being relative, she determined Daryl to be the more docile personality, and so went to grab his wildly swinging arm...

…misjudging it badly, she got the full force of his elbow to her eye. Everything went white, then red, then dark.

…

She opened her eyes to the slightly panicked faces of the Dixon boys above her. Merle was the first to recover.

"See, tol' ya tha girl is one hard-ass lil' bitch! How ya feelin', Bo Peep?"

She barely got out a groan before Daryl was stumbling over his words in his haste to apologise. "I'm real sorry Maggie, I wasn't... I didn't see ya…"

"I'm fine…" she got out, sitting up but immediately feeling dizzy. Her cheek was throbbing like a sonofabitch. "Help me up…"

They helped her up, but the minute she stood she felt the world start to tilt. She closed her eyes, ashamed of feeling so weak, but was unable to stop the strength flowing out of her muscles… suddenly she was aware of rapid movement around her and to her speechless surprise she was lifted effortlessly into someone's arms. Her side was pressed against a warm solid chest, and the contrast between the strong muscles at her back and the cool metal behind her knees told her who it was.

She immediately despised the momentary rush of gratitude she felt.

"C'mon, le's get her back ta her daddy. He can fix her up."

"I can carry her," Daryl offered, "I... I hit her." He was clearly avoiding drawing attention to Merle's lack of a hand. Maggie was shocked at her own cruelty when she experienced a vicious desire to deliberately point out the disability and ask Daryl to carry her; fortunately Merle interrupted.

"Hell no! She comes back wit' us two an' a black eye, an' yer carryin' her? Everyone a them pricks is gonna think I did it! Better if I carry her. Now c'mon, git movin', she ain't no featherweight, an' my arms is gettin' tired…"

"Ass…" Maggie growled, strangely making him laugh. She almost smiled herself; funny how at times he wasn't entirely dislikeable… but then, Maggie pointed out to herself, she had just been hit in the head.

Still, she felt exhausted, and her head really hurt, and somehow it didn't seem the worst thing in the world if she let her head rest on his shoulder… just a little.

…

Everyone stared when they got back to the main cell block. Even with one eye now swollen shut, she saw that as he had predicted, there were a few suspicious glances at Merle. If he didn't bring it on himself by being a dick to people most of the time, she could almost feel sorry for him.

"What happened?" Herschel gasped, limping over as fast as he could.

"I…" Daryl began awkwardly.

"Daryl caught me with a cell door," Maggie grunted, forcing the words out loud enough to carry to the group, "it was an accident… my fault… I wasn't looking where I was going."

The lie was accepted as truth; no-one thought Daryl would hurt her, and absolutely no-one would expect her to cover for Merle. Herschel even thanked him as he carried Maggie through to her cell and laid her carefully down on the bed. Maggie thought for the briefest of moments Merle looked almost surprised.

However, when her father stood outside the cell, issuing demands to those nearby to fetch the med-kit or make up a cold compress for her face, Merle's wicked voice was instantly whispering in her ear.

"Walked inta a door? Shouldda asked Carol fer a better excuse… bet she knows 'em all…."

"Oh Jesus…" she moaned, "fuck you, Merle."

"Here, in ya bed, wit' ya daddy watchin'?" he murmured in feigned shock, warm lips and hot breath too close to her ear for comfort, "Ya one kinky bitch, Bo Peep. Bet tha chink didn't even begin ta appreciate wha' he had…"

Maggie's hand swung slowly and vaguely through the air, aiming for Merle's jaw, and it didn't surprise her that even with only one hand he caught it easily. What did surprise her was that once he caught it, he held it… just that moment too long, his eyes on hers, burning but unreadable.

Uncertain of what it might mean, and unable to think of anything to say, she pulled away just seconds before her father hobbled back into the cell.

"Thank you Merle, I'll take it from here."

"S'alright, ol' man, I'm goin'" Merle smirked cryptically, getting up and moving to the door of the cell, "I'm still waitin' on my invitation…"

After watching him stride off after his brother, Herschel turned a puzzled face back to his eldest daughter. "Well, what do you suppose that means?" he asked, bewildered.

"Means he's an asshole," Maggie muttered, hissing as her father pressed the compress to her swollen eye and cheek.

…

Little bit of a shorter chapter this time; technically this is only half of the chapter I was finalising, but since it seemed a good place to end it and you guys have been so very good and patient with me, I thought I'd get it up so you know I haven't forgotten about this story.

Anyway, you know I love reviews so if you could leave one that would be wonderful, so shines a good deed in a weary world and all that!