the idea that rick would have to regularly explain to merle that he doesnt need to take abuse to show love and merle just not getting it cause hey thats how it worked with his dad is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking
Rick: Okay but you understand I'm not your dad and I do actually love you, and therefore have no desire to hit you, right?
Merle's eyes widen and his lone hand goes grappling for purchase on anything he could possibly sink his fingers into. For the first time, in probably his entire life, Merle is completely speechless.
He never, in a million years, expected to be lying here with Rick Grimes between his legs, acting like what he had going on between them was a necessity for life.
A million thoughts rage through Merle's mind and he can't seem to grab onto any single one, so he resigns himself to his fate and relaxes back to just enjoy whatever treatment Rick deems him worthy.
The air was thick with the stench of the dead. The sun high in the sky as people milled about the prison grounds doing their daily work.
Merle hung over the side of the lookout tower, a toothpick that he’d carved hanging from his lips as he rolled it around with his teeth and lazily palmed the hilt of his assault rifle. His blade rested over the warm steel of the guard-rail of the tower as his trained eyes scanned along the tree-lines in the distance before flickering down to watch his brother order some fence workers to handle a small pile up that was happening.
Merle was bored.
Not much happened around the joint after him, his brother, and the Nubian Queen went and cut the fucking Governor’s head off and handled him before he could smooth talk a bunch of folks into helping him take the prison down. Merle had wanted to beat the people to shit, but his still too soft baby brother had stepped up and offered them a place.
“Well… This is fun.”
Merle glanced over his shoulder as - speak of the devil - one of the female members of the new group, stepped out of the tower as she squinted her eyes to blink in the sun. She gave him an awkward smile before coming to sit beside him easily. As if they were life-long chums or something.
“Kind of boring since Rick left.” The girl - he thinks her name is Tara or some shit but who really cares - mused, flopping her arms over the middle railing and placing her forehead against the top, kicking her legs easily.
Merle just grunted. He weren’t in the mood to be talking. Especially not about fucking Officer Friendly.
Tara didn’t comment on his grunt, just hummed and kicked her legs, staring out into the tree-line and occasionally reaching at her side to check to make sure her own assault rifle was nearby.
Merle rolled the toothpick in his mouth and rolled his shoulders to pop a kink in his neck, when someone let out a startled cry.
“Rick!”
Merle’s gaze snapped to the voice - it was the farmers oldest daughter; China-man’s bitch - that had screamed. She was running to the gate, a few others of the group running after her.
“Shit!” Tara exclaimed, scrambling to her feet.
Merle stood up as well, bright blue eyes searching until he locked onto a loan figure stumbling towards the gate, biters closing in on him. Merle dropped the assault rifle and grabbed the Remington 700, taking aim and shots instantly, knocking out walkers that were getting to close.
Tara shot a few rounds off to the side, using the noise to try and keep some of the walkers from leaving the fence, the ones on ground helping by smacking at the chains to keep walkers snapping at them instead.
Merle straightened as the Midnight Queen was able to shove the gate open enough to help drag the limping figure - Officer Friendly - through the gate while the Kid worked on shutting it.
A crowd of people rushed to the three, calling out in worry as Merle lowered the rifle and spit out his toothpick.
He’d snapped in half with his teeth
…
“Ya know I’m gettin’ real tired of havin’ ta save yer ass.”
Merle leaned against the gate of the make-shift hospital that Hershel and Mouse had set up, watching as his brother - who had been listening to whatever the old Sheriff had been saying - eye him with an exasperated scowl.
“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” Officer Friendly chuckled, looking from Daryl to give Merle a tired grin that pulled one from Merle as well.
“The Hell happened to ya? Last I check you skedaddled outta here with a damn truck of a few supplies for that little run of yours.” Merle drawled after a beat, making Friendly’s grin drop and his eyes close as he ran a hand down his face.
“Stupid mistake. Got swallowed up by a heard… Truck was knocked over by ‘em. Made it to a store and camped out until they thinned out eventually, but I can’t track my ass back for shit, according to Daryl here.” Rick explained, smiling a little. “Got lost. Ran into a few bandits. They killed Coleman and Greg… Got shot myself before I handled them… Blood attracted them. So I ran. Found the road again.”
As he explained, Merle tightened his jaw as he saw the wrapping around the man’s left arm and peeking out from his shirt. He’d been shot more than once.
“You’re a lucky sunuvabitch then, Friendly.” Merle mused, breaking the drawn out silence.
“I am.” Rick chuckled, smile returning at full as he stood from the bed.
“Good to have you back, brother.” Daryl mumbled as Rick pulled him into a one-arm hug, making Merle twitch a little. He hated when Daryl called the other man that.
“Yeah… Hey, not that I missed ya or anything, but next time you plan on running off Rambo, I’ll tag along. Boring as fuck here.” Merle spoke up, smacking Rick on his good shoulder and putting himself closer to the man because he wanted to… And not because he also wanted to have the man looking at him.
“I’ll keep you in mind for the next run then.” Rick replied, smirking and tucking around Merle’s hold, though not before they brushed against one another.
Merle smirked. “I’ll hold ya too that, Officer Friendly.”
…
I’m sorrryyy! This sucks… I haven’t written Rick and Merle in forever… I tried though!
