The Prisoner Of Woodbury

Chapter 13

"I don't know why I do the things I do. Never did. I'm a damn mystery to me."

Why Rick came to visit Merle in the empty cellblock however, was no mystery at all.

He needed a guy to take out the trash and that's what Merle did best. Since his return to Woodbury is a foregone conclusion anyway, he's hardly going to argue.

He's gripping the steering wheel as if his life depends upon it. Keeping a sharp eye on the road, because god forbid he should screw this up before he even makes it to the meeting point. Trying to drown out Michonne, because he can't have her say these things to him. Alas, the only thing he can drown her out with are his thoughts, and they are hell bent on torturing him with the fresh remembrance of someone else trying to talk sense into him.

"I just want my brother back."

Goddammit Daryl.

"I'm still here..."

The recollection of uttering these words makes him wince, and not because of the shaky defensive tone (and boy, was it), but because it was the most cowardly lie he's ever told. All the more gut wrenching for being the last thing he said to the brother he loved more than he could say. A fitting epitaph for a flawed relationship, if ever there was one.

What else could he have done, though?

If he'd gone soft on him, he would've known something was up.

Cain't have you with me on this one Darylina.

He'd been at his wits' end as they'd gone to meet with the Governor, the thought of putting Daryl in his path once more...

So yes, to put it in Daryl's own words, he was leaving. Again.

As far as he could tell, it was the only way.

Michonne is still talking, and Merle can hear her loud and clear despite the chaos of thoughts swirling in his mind. He almost ends up throwing her out just to get her to shut up.

"We can just go back."

"I cain't... go back. Don't you understand that?"

It is clear she does not, because she asks him why, and the world that sits so heavy on his shoulders pushes the air out of his lungs and he is suddenly so tired – every single day of what has been a long and difficult life making itself known in a body that is beyond exhausted and a mind strung out to the nth degree.

He cuts the wire binding her hands before he can talk himself out of it.

It doesn't escape him that he's now royally screwed, but it seems he doesn't have the stomach to hand her over to the Governor either. One less regret, he tells himself. Although, most likely it is his brother he has in mind. He and his friends could use a good fighter.

The fighter in question says nothing at first, merely eyes him suspiciously – unsure if he's bluffing and it reminds him of a certain someone so much that it hurts.

Funnily enough, when she does eventually slide out of the car, almost as an afterthought, she asks him what exactly it was that she saw in the cellar at Woodbury.

"Don't matter what it was, all that matters is that it... she... she deserved better than what they done to her."

A wisp of a smile appears upon Michonne's lips. A knowing smile. As if some notion she had about him has been confirmed and Merle is about to drive off because he's sick of this Dr. Phil shit, but she puts one hand on the door frame to stop him and says in a soft voice, "You need to put her down, Merle."

A long silence follows. She gives him that much and he gladly takes it.

"I know."

He sighs low and long, because yes he did. He always had.