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((OOC: Set in The Walking Dead TV canon, spoilers for Season 5, Episode 1. All are welcome, if you're not canon familiar this is a zombie-overtaken version of rural Georgia, outside Atlanta.))

***

[The smoldering, overrun compound that used to be Terminus is left behind as Carol jumps the fence and lets herself out, taking advantage of the heavy blanket flopped over barbed wire that Rick's group must have used. She ignores the screams of those still living and the inhuman growls of walkers as they feed themselves into a frenzy. It might seem cruel of her, if one was blissfully unaware of the goings-on inside those fences just before the flames and rampaging began.]

[A brief glance at the surroundings, assessing the footprints and parted underbrush (she picked up a few tracking skills... here and there... ) and quickly she determines which way they went. Carol was quite serious when she told Tyrese she has no intention of staying, but first she has to find them. Make sure her efforts were worth it and they all got out, and most importantly reunite Rick and Carl with Judith, Sasha with Tyrese. So she goes, stomach churning despite how calm she'd felt while unleashing destruction on Terminus and its twisted population.]

[She hasn't quite let go of the hope that she won't have to leave, but she's prepared to.]

[Her face and hair are caked with red clay, and she's wearing clothing covered in entrails -- not just spatter, but as though she rolled and splashed inside a fresh, open corpse. In one hand is an automatic rifle, in the other a crossbow. She looks like she's been through a brutal war.]

[She has. She won.]

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[These woods are getting mighty crowded all of a sudden. Merle hasn’t been out here much longer than she has, armed with nothing but a filched pistol, grabbed off a dying Termite as he got the hell out of Dodge. It ain’t what he’d prefer, but best laid plans and all that shit. Merle had stayed out of town when everyone went in-- half as a lookout, half because no way in hell was he walking into that place of his own volition. He’d said, once, that the man who came at him calm and smiling with his hands in his pockets, that was the fucker who’d scare him-- and the ruins of the charnel house behind him, well, just goes to show that now and then he knows what he’s talking about.]

[He’d been in the middle of trying to figure out how the fuck to spring everyone, once it’d become clear that all those smiling faces weren’t so friendly underneath, and all he’d managed to do was get himself picked up by patrols. Fucking figures. It’s a miracle, if he still believes in those, that they didn’t stuff him in the freezer right away. Missing his hand and still on the weak side he’s not much good, which is why he’s holed up in the hollow of a tree right now, waiting for the smoke to clear a little before he heads out on his way to look for Daryl and the rest of ‘em. He’d booked it just as soon as he was able when the chaos started, not knowing or caring how or why, just running for freedom like an animal. He ain’t proud, but not like he coulda done much if he’d stayed in town. Rick and his crew-- and Daryl, mostly Daryl in his estimation-- they’re strong enough he trusts them to fight their own way out, he’s just gotta find them.]

[But here we got something else, a walking fucking nightmare dripping gore and carrying his brother’s bow. At a distance and with all that on her, he doesn’t recognize Carol. He just waits, and he lines up his shot-- aiming low, base of the spine, he doesn’t want a kill ‘cos he wants answers, and if they ain’t good ones he wants to make this slow-- but he doesn’t take it. He hides and he waits til she’s close enough and looking the other way, and then he calls out in a tone as sweet as poison:]

Now I know that ain’t yours.

[There better be a damn good reason you got Daryl’s weapon there, stranger.]

[She'd know that creepy voice anywhere, but instinct and reflexes have her raising her rifle as she spins toward it. Maybe she'd have Merle in her sights regardless, given his history. She's not likely to fire unless he threatens her pretty damn explicitly though; for all she knows right now Daryl may never forgive what she did back at the prison, but that doesn't mean she would ever want to hurt him if she had a choice.]

[Her weapon lowers, but she keeps both hands on it.]

I'm bringing it back. [Carol can't say she's shocked that Merle still thinks it's the Dixon brothers against the world, that she'd be stealing Daryl's crossbow while he and the group ran for their lives. On some level she almost understands. Merle doesn't know Daryl anymore, doesn't know what he means to Carol, that she would sooner cut off her own right --]

[...Bad analogy.]

[Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Peletier.]

Well, hell, [he crows, taking the gun off her and lifting his hand with an expression of perfect innocence. Now don’t you be too eager to rid yourself of ol’ Merle, he’s the closest you got to a friend in the vicinity.] Don’t you look nice.

[He might’ve given her the benefit of the doubt if he’d’ve recognized her. Merle’s never quite sure if Daryl’s hanging around her to try and get into her pants or just clutch her apron strings, but you’d have to be a fool not to notice they got something. It might be something he resents on principle ‘cos he doesn’t much like how much attention Daryl wastes on people who aren’t his kin, but it’s there.]

You seen ‘im?

[Daryl. And the rest of their people, whatever. They’re all good friends these days, right?]

[Oh sure, great friends. No hard feelings at all about the Governor or Glenn and Maggie's capture and torture. Although... ironically, right now some of them might consider Merle more a friend than Carol, and she is so keenly aware of it that she could spit acid.]

They came this way. Can't be too far off. [She has no idea how large the group is by now, but she's assuming at least seven or eight, possibly more if they've found other survivors of Terminus to trust. There's no way they're moving fast enough to outrun a single person... assuming she's not waylaid too long dealing with Merle.]

[She shoulders her firearm.] You coming, or what?

[ Officer Friendly might, he tries real hard to pretend Merle is one of them. Most of the rest of them don't know enough to hold what she did against her. He gets up, stifling a cough. ]

Let me get that, [ he says, nodding at the bow. It's as close to being his as hers, no time to argue about the will when they don't know if there's a body. ]

What about the cavalry?

[ She must have seen them, whoever attacked. It'd be good to have a little warning if they've left the all too literal frying pan for the fire. ]

[Carol hesitates, visibly, but in the end she hands over the crossbow. Merle might be a sleaze but he does care about Daryl, and it's unlikely he'd run off with the thing until they find him. So, fine, if it'll get them moving, he can hold the thing.]

No cavalry. [No elaboration as she turns to start walking. It's not that Carol wants to avoid claiming credit for the attack that brought down Terminus, it's that her priority is on taking note of some snapped twigs in the low brush, a few shuffling footprints, to ensure she's still on the right track.]

[Not too distant a second is rising anxiety about the reaction she may get when she finds the people she's seeking. Sure she saved them, but she didn't do it so Rick would allow her back with his group; she did it because, simply, it's what she does for her family. If she ends up on her own after all she still won't regret it because they're alive.]

[Besides, she owes Merle no explanation and he doesn't owe her any thanks.]

[In his absolutely minimal defense, Merle is marginally less of a sleaze than he used to be. Daryl's long since made it clear he ain't gonna budge, and if Merle doesn't want to lose his brother, he's got to play nice. Either way, there's no question about his loyalties in this instance.]

No shit?

[He slings the bow over his back and follows along beside her, keeping his eyes on the trail. He'll pipe up if she makes a wrong turn.]

Now you don't mean to tell me you did all that on your lonesome.

[Spill it, lady, who're you working with? Because he does not believe for a moment that she managed that without help.]

[Is this about to be a debate as to whether Carol had it in her? Because she could really do without one right about now, she's got a stomach full of rocks and a baby to reunite with her father and brother in spite of it.]

[A few steps pass in stony silence before she finally decides, forget it. He'll believe her or he won't, it's not really relevant to why she came here or what she needs to do next.]

Just taking down the gates and some of the guards. [She never really found Rick and Daryl and the others after all, but she knew they'd take care of their own.] And a woman who tried to interrupt. The herd did the rest.

We-ell,

[he drawls, stretching the word and sucking his teeth thoughtfully to punctuate it. Does he believe her? Honest, he's not sure. Could just be. He's got the bad habit of thinking of Carol the way she used to be-- mousy and under her husband's thumb.]

Ain't you just as cold as a witch's tit,

[he mutters, though there's something weirdly complimentary. He's impressed.]

[Merle Dixon, always the classy intellectual. Beyond vague disgust with his simile, Carol is torn between being mildly insulted and mildly proud. She's not regretful of her actions so that prohibits her from feeling upset or particularly pleased about it; all her emotions are somewhere in a thin patch of center because she really had little choice if she wanted those captured to survive.]

[It's just what had to be done. That's how this world works. Of all the things she's done in the last ten days to be ashamed of, devastated over, the death of some murdering cannibals doesn't even make a dent.]

You know what they were doing in there? [Her tone probably doesn't do much to disprove his assessment of her coldness.]

[She's full of surprises. Could just be Carol's snapped, and that's interesting at least. She might not be the mouse she once was but even so, there's a world of difference between growing a backbone and growing the balls to get your hands that dirty. Shit, no one in Rick's group gets their hands that dirty. That's why Merle doesn't fit in.]

Heard enough I'm glad I didn't stick around for dinner.

[Don't remind her of what Rick's group doesn't do, it's a sore subject.]

The woman I ran into tried to tell me that they started out as just what the signs said, then a group came and... took advantage. Tortured them, the women especially. So they took revenge against them and anyone else who came along. [Not exactly verbatim but that's what Carol got from it. A load of BS if she ever heard it.] They had it coming.

[It really is that simple. If Sophia and Lizzy and Mika don't get to live in this world then neither do people like that.]

[Hey, lady, he's on your side.

As disturbing as that thought is for a million reasons.]

You won't hear me complainin'.

[He's pleased as punch, believe him, to be off the menu.]

Just gotta catch up and we'll be one, big happy family again.

[Sure. One big, happy family. She'll show up and they'll know she saved them and there'll be hugs and forgiveness and they'll all go on their merry way. Absolutely.]

[Carol says nothing. It's a very sharp, cutting silence; she's saying quite a lot within it. Fear, resentment, overwhelming grief... and, if you listen hard enough, resignation. But onward she walks.]

[Shee-yit, he's just trying to make light of his little brother's mommy issues.]

[For all the dumb shit that comes out of his mouth, Merle's not stupid. He knows a pregnant pause when he hears it, and in spite of how fast things've been moving the past couple weeks, he knows when something's up. That silence stretches out a long while, and when he breaks the silence his tone is conversational, but notably more serious.]

You gonna tell me what we're walkin' into?

[If Rick and his fellas are gonna be greeting 'em with weapons drawn, he'd like a little warning.]

[Specifically? Not unless she has to. But generally, she supposes he as a right to know.]

I don't know if I'll be staying with them. I haven't been since before the prison fell. [Make of that what you will, Merle. Or continue to ask deeply personal questions, she supposes, would be the other option.] But it shouldn't be dangerous. I just need to tell Rick where to find the baby. [If it weren't for that, who knows if she'd have it in her to try and approach them?]

Huh, [he says, mostly to himself,] Figured she got et.

[Be a right shame, he guesses, but that's a hazard of the world they live in. Merle has no illusions about the likelihood of anyone surviving, least of all their little mascot.]

Guess it ain't my business, what you did to get yourself outta his good graces.

[Except his tone suggests it very much is his business, thanks. Hell, if he's one of them, the way they all try to say it is, then the way he sees it an explanation is the least of what she owes him.]

[Oh, she quite gets his point, and it earns him a sidelong glare that might be more intimidating if it weren't cut by being completely emotionally exhausted. She owes HIM? Who just saved whose ass, back there?]

[If he were the other Dixon brother, then she'd owe him an explanation. An apology perhaps, even if she still feels her actions were the right call at the time. Protecting the group has to come first, but she is sorry, so sorry, that it had to be that way. That she couldn't tell him. That she couldn't say goodbye.]

No, it isn't. But it's not a secret. [Not anymore. She hates what she did but she's not about to deny the truth. And anyway that's hardly the sin weighing heaviest on her mind right now.] I killed two people to try and prevent the sickness from spreading through the prison.

[He barks a laugh at that, sharp and short.]

Too little too late, sweetheart,

[he answers, maybe just a little touch of bile creeping into his tone. He still ain't well and he knows it; living through that flu, he's not inclined to fault anyone for trying to keep it contained.]

No wonder you look like you're marchin' to the chair. Sheriff Rick don't take kindly to puttin' down the livin', less he's the one doin' it.

[ It was time to move on, at last, to leave behind his fortified encampment up in Kings County, the place he'd laid to rest his wife, his son, laid to rest the entirety of the life he'd once known. He lost himself there, fell into the depths of darkness, trying to find the path he was meant to take, to serve the purpose he was meant to serve. Clear. That was it. He'd been meant to clear. To make things right.

And then Rick had come back - he'd come back, and he knew him. He knew him, and he was there. Not on the radio, not like he promised, but there. Rick had been right in front of him, his face had been there.

And that was the start of it.

The start of a turn in his path, a way back out the other side of what he'd been through, winding its way through the darkness. He spent a long time down there - a long time - and he wasn't out of it yet. But he was far enough he could see again, start to make out the world around him. And it was time to move forward. So here he was, in the woods. He was far from trusting anyone, those signs they'd put up, but he had to give it a look. He had to see.

He'd been lurking on the edges just in time for all hell to break loose. He watches, making his way along the edge, and that's when he spots her. Looks like a walker, really, but with the weaponry...

His mask is still on as he approaches her, his voice reverberating inside of it. He's ready to grab his weapon, but he hasn't yet. Just ready. ]

You come out of that?

[ It's an even tone, booming but unclear as to whether it should really be taken as threatening, exactly. He's just a man looking for information. ]

[Carol really, really hates to admit it, but Merle has a point about the double standard. A resentment she didn't have until after Rick claimed he couldn't trust her with his children. Given how things went with Sophia, those words cut her deeply.]

I had to try. [And it was worth the try, she feels. How many could have been saved if she'd succeeded? And they would have, likely, died even had she not stepped in...]

[Those are rationalizations, and Carol knows it. But she has to feel like it was for some reason, some good purpose, that she didn't kill two innocent people and give up her only family for nothing.]

Sure you did.

[He's not being sarcastic, though she might take it that way, just out of habit. He so often is. Merle's got a little sympathy for the position she finds herself in, here; he's killed too many men ever to be trusted. Don't matter, even if he wanted to turn over a new leaf.]

Daryl know 'bout it?

[Could be a chance his baby brother'd follow her into exile, maybe. If so... well, that matters more than how Merle feels about her killing sprees.]

[The mask sets Carol on edge just enough to stop her determined walk through the forest, but the irony is not lost: her own appearance is far more menacing. Considering such, and the fact that she's carrying multiple weapons in plan view, she decides to entertain his question. Because those at Terminus were dangerous doesn't mean everyone is, and if things go that way she's sickeningly well-prepared.]

[That she doesn't answer straight away is due only to the wording the stranger uses, the shape of it sticking in her throat. The last ten days are a series of violent emotional lurches in every possible direction, a bad dream that seems to only get worse. She's hesitant to say whether she'll ever "come out of it."]

[But that's not, of course, what he's asking. Carol slowly shakes her head.] Not exactly. I helped some people get out, but I was never in.

[Another few beats of silence. That is, though not the exact question she's been asking herself, the heart of the matter. Whether Daryl would fight for her, or turn his back. She couldn't, and wouldn't, blame him for the latter, she'd decided, but it would still hurt like hell.]

[She absolutely hates that Merle can probably tell just how much that bothers her.]

I imagine Rick told him.

[No lie, if Daryl chooses her over the infamous capital-fucking-lettered Group, Merle's gonna be just a bit put out since his attempts to compete haven't gone so hot. He thinks, maybe, he can deal with it, though.

No question he's going if Daryl goes.]

Guess we're gonna find out.

[One big, happy family, eh?]

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screw you timeline i do what i want

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that's a theme on this post and I love it

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