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Merle let Andrea do the talking when they hobbled up to the homestead and Rick, Shane, and Lori came running out to them. Shane went to fetch some medical supplies and water while Lori steered Merle onto a tree stump seat to examine his wound. She shook her head at Andrea.
"I think you've got a think for shooting the Dixons, Andrea. I'd say this was a lucky shot."
"Luck had nothin' to do with it," said Merle as he took credit for teaching Andrea how to properly handle a pistol. "She knew what she was doin—ow! Watch where you're pokin' your fingers, woman!" he griped at Lori as she felt the bullet hole.
"Hold still," commanded Lori shortly, resting his arm on top of a set of towels. She began to mop of the blood as Shane returned with supplies and Hershel and the old man set about to sewing the bullet holes shut. He wasn't exactly gentle while he sealed up the wound either, which was why Merle swore loudly and Rick and Shane each had to rest a cautious hand on his shoulders.
"Easy there, Merle," said Shane.
"Screw you, it hurts, man! He's diggin' that needle in like I'm a damn pincushion!"
"Oh, shut up, you big baby," said Andrea. "You sawed off your own hand, didn't you?"
Merle scowled at her and she immediately recoiled. "Alright, alright, I'm sor-,"
"Don't you start apologizin' agin."
"Young man, if you don't sit still and hush up I'll have to either knock you out or sew your lips shut," warned Hershel.
"Young man?" Merle repeated furiously.
"It's a compliment, now do as he says or he's gonna make you wear a sling and then how are you gonna use your knife arm?" said Rick. "By the way, did you find anything?"
"Well, shoot, we kinda got distracted," said Merle bad naturedly. "They's near twenny-five walkers on us. We didn't see shit."
"Language," said Hershel.
Andrea spoke up before Merle could retort. "Please, just sit still until this is over with and then you can moan all you want, but you're only making it worse right now."
"Anythin' for you, baby."
When Hershel finally finished Merle tested his arm by extending it straight out. He could still move it, but there was a nagging pain every time he did so. Rick took Hershel and Shane aside on the way back to the house and Lori went over to the trailer leaving Merle to stare dismally at his arm. Hell, it was bad enough that he'd had to cut off his own damn hand—and his right one at that—but now it also had a bullet hole in it. If he gave it another two weeks he wagered that he wouldn't have an arm left at all.
"You still owe me," he told Andrea, massaging the wound with a grimace.
"No I don't. You pulled me up and I shot the walker."
"Naw, that don't count. I pulled you up and pushed you outta the way and then you shot me. I'm now two up on you, so you'd better start thinkin' up some clever ideas, missy."
"Yeah, like what?" asked Andrea dismissively.
Merle gave her a meaningful look. "Now, do I really have to spell it out for you?"
"Don't start that again."
"Then start thinkin'."
By the time night had fallen, the house occupants had already started on their supper while the survivor group gathered around a campfire. Merle didn't understand why there was such a line of separation between the two groups, but it made little difference to him. He lurked behind in the shadows as Dale and Carol passed out dishes to everyone, including Daryl who had come to join them. No one paid him any attention as he stood leaning against the trailer with his arms folded to the best of his ability. It was Andrea however who counted heads and glanced over her shoulder at him, lifting her eyebrows pointedly. He wasn't sure if she could see his face, but he shook his head slightly even when she started to motion insistently at the space on the log next to her.
"She ain't gonna quit 'til you give in, Merle," called Shane. "You'd best come over and eat with us."
"I ain't hungry," lied Merle, hoping that they couldn't hear his stomach grumble.
"If you're planning on leaving in the next two days then you'll need all the protein you can get, now get your ass over here," said Andrea firmly. Merle threw up his hand and stump in defeat and sidled onto the log beside her with enough room to fit a whole other person in between them. Dale brought him a plate, a fork, and a cup and Merle placed the plate in his lap. He couldn't quite figure out what exactly was on his plate, but he had been raised—for however brief a time—not to be picky with what he was served and passed the lesson on to Daryl. The food looked like some sort of bean and chopped chicken mixture and figured nothing could be lost from eating it—it would be the others' loss if there was a round of flatulence that night. Scooping the mystery food up clumsily with his left hand and tasting it, he decided that it wasn't half bad, perhaps a little undercooked and in need of salt, but it was better than the squirrels he was used to eating.
It was a little too quiet for his liking as everyone ate without talking and the only sound they could hear was the clinking of silverware against the plates. Good grief, didn't these people even smile? He knew that Rick, Shane, and Lori were worried about Carl; Carol had her hopes crushed by her missing daughter, Dale and Andrea were not speaking to each other, and Daryl was just a Gloomy Gus, but what did T-Dog and Glenn have to be upset about? They should be the ones to start conversation, but no, it was quiet enough to hear a mouse moving through the grass…or perhaps a walker in the distance. Finally, Glenn dared to ask Merle a question.
"How exactly did you manage to get that duct tape to stick to your skin?"
Merle rotated his stump so that the blade caught the fire's light. "I used up two rolls of the damn stuff. Duct tape's stronger'n most rope material."
"The color suits you," said Daryl quietly, but Merle heard him and dropped his fork onto his plate loudly.
"Somethin' you wanna say, son?"
"Now, boys, let's not start something," said Dale cautiously.
"And you can just stay out of it," hissed Merle as he stood up abruptly and upset his plate. Daryl tossed his own food aside, though his face turned a sick shade of green when he did.
"C'mon, big brother, I'll take you on right now. I'm through bein' put down and shit on by you. Lemme show you just how fine I've gotten by without you actin' all high and mighty on me. C'mon!"
"I could kick your ass if I had two stumps insteadda one, boy. But if you wanna have it out, bring it. Ol' Merle ain't gonna go easy on ya juss 'cuz your family's 'round—oh, wait, dass right, they ain't your family, are they? Naw, I'm the only family you got, I'm your kin, which gives me the right to beat you black and blue all over. Git up and prove me wrong that you ain't a weakling like our dad said you was."
"Fine, and I'm gonna clean your dirty mug with spit when I win," Daryl vowed.
"Merle, this isn't going to solve anything," said Dale wearily.
"Unless you got some half-ass annoyin'-as-hell little brother, you wouldn't understand, old man, so butt out and let us settle this our way. Sound good to you? Sound good to ev'rybody?"
Rick and Shane exchanged looks, but it was Rick who voiced his opinion. "Now, Merle, you remember what happened the last time you stood up for yourself like this. Don't make this any harder."
"You can shove it up your ass, Officer Friendly, and if you come near me with handcuffs or rope, or anythin' else to hold me down, you gonna be a very sorry man. And that goes for all y'all!"
Andrea nodded to Rick. "Just let them go, Rick."
Merle winked at Andrea. "See, she knows what she's talkin' 'bout."
"At least take the knife off," pleaded Shane.
"'Less you got 'nother two roles've duct tape lyin' 'round, then I don't think so. 'Sides, I wanna hurt 'im, not kill 'im."
Merle followed Daryl out to where the ground was clear and lit up by the light from the porch. He suspected that Daryl might move fast and his assumption proved correct when Daryl charged into him head-first and grabbed him around the waist so that both of them went down in the dirt hard. Daryl wasted no time in punching Merle in the ribs as hard as his knuckles could stand and in turn Merle elbowed Daryl in the head so that his younger brother recoiled with a cry of pain. In two moves Merle kicked Daryl in the groin and threw him aside which gave him time to pack in three good punches before Daryl recovered and pummeled Merle's wound. Dirt flew up above them and blood began to run and still neither of them gained the upper hand. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Merle would have won if he had had both hands at his disposal, but his handicap and wound brought him down a level so that Daryl, even in his weakened state could hold his own against his older brother.
After what seemed like hours later Merle felt someone pulling on his shoulders while Daryl was dragged away from him. He blinked through a swollen eye to see Rick, T-Dog, and Glenn restraining Daryl while Shane, Dale, and Andrea held him back from his little brother.
"Bastards, I told y'all to let us alone! Git off me, git off now, damn it!" cried Merle, using every ounce of his remaining strength to fight them.
"You tied, you tied, now just let it go!" hollered Shane as he trapped Merle's head in a half-nelson.
"A tie ain't good 'nough, lemme at 'im!"
"I'll kill that son've a bitch!" raged Daryl from fifteen feet away.
"Merle, if you don't settle down, I'm gonna have to hurt you—"
A small fist came out of nowhere and hit Merle in the jaw. Though the impact didn't hurt much, it was his curiosity more than anything that drove him to stop moving to investigate the culprit. He saw Andrea caressing her knuckles as she did her best to frown at him.
"Be a man and accept a tie, because that's as close you're going to get in your condition. You two would have just rolled around in the dirt for hours until you both dropped dead from exhaustion. You've had it out and you saw the outcome, now let it go. I want to get some sleep tonight and that's not going to happen if Shane has to tie you up again and you go bitching into the early hours of the morning!"
"Damn, when'd you take over?" asked Merle in bewilderment.
Andrea disregarded his comment and walked over to Daryl who spat, "Just you wait 'till next time, you sack of meat!"
"Ain't gonna be no next time for you, runt."
Pointing a sharp finger at him, Andrea said quite sternly, "Shut the hell up."
Shane and Dale dragged Merle to his feet and made certain that he took a long cooling walk around the house while everyone else went to Daryl's rescue and tended to his injuries. The sight did nothing to improve Merle's mood and did not go quietly, cursing up a storm and kicking furiously at the dirt which only made him cough as it nestled in his lungs. He made one round in plain view of the house and when he came back to the front nearly everyone had settled back around the campfire, even Daryl who was slumped over next to Lori who was helping him hold his plate. Presently Andrea rose, dusting her hands on her jeans as she began to make her way towards the house.
Merle ducked down in the bushes and watched her go in. As quickly as he could in his hulking condition he crept onto the porch, hiding just around the corner so that those at the fire could not see him. He heard Andrea thank Maggie for something inside and the next moment she opened the screen, nearly thwacking him in the nose with it. Reaching out both of his arms, he slapped his hand over her mouth and used his stump to hold her stomach in place as he walked backwards with her off the porch and into the shadows. Once they were right alongside the trees he shoved her back up against one and grabbed her face in between his fingers and thumb.
"Don't you make a sound," he warned her.
She saw that it was him and her body relaxed ever so slightly before she back-hand slapped him in irritation. "You scared the shit out of me, you moron."
"Shut up," he snarled at her. "I thought to myself that you juss might be diff'rent than them backstabbin' sons've bitches 'round that campfire, but I guess I's wrong, cuz as soon as that fight stopped you went rushin' to the runt and left me, juss like you done last time, 'cept this time you told me off while you was at it. I want it out right here and now; whose side you on?"
Andrea's eyes darted side to side, but she couldn't move her face. "I'm not on anyone's side. What are you-?"
"Bullshit. If y'ain't on my side, juss say so and I'll pack up my things and leave right now."
"There aren't any sides, you moron. I'm not against you, but I wasn't rooting you on in that fight. I was against it from the start, but I let you go through with it because when you don't get your way you throw a fit and someone gets hurt. Afterwards I left you because I knew you were fine, but Daryl was about ready to spill puke and blood. He should never have gotten involved, but that's just how you two settle things, even if it is barbaric. Unlike you, he needed me."
"He had everyone else comin' to his rescue; you didn't have to, but you did 'cuz you got a thing for him, ain't that right?"
"Oh, grow up!"
Merle pinched her face harder. "Don't make me hurt you."
Nostrils flaring, Andrea retorted, "Well, if you're going to rape me, would you go inside and ask Hershel for a condom first? I don't want a baby in the middle of an apocalypse, and especially not yours."
"Why would you get the impression that I's gonna rape you?" Merle demanded.
"Oh, gee, I wonder," said Andrea, blinking obviously at his knife. "Usually when men grab women at night and drag them off away from all eyes and ears and threaten her with a knife he intends to rape her. Correct me if I'm wrong."
"You are," said Merle.
"Really?"
"I didn't grab you to do no such thing. I's juss tryin' to get an honest word outta you," said Merle uncomfortably, releasing her.
"Then next time you want to talk to me you and I can sit down like civilized people; don't go grabbing me and scaring me half to death. The only reason I haven't screamed for help and won't turn you in to Rick and Shane is because this is the kind of behavior I expect from you and nothing's going to change that, no matter how nice someone is to you. Now, if you don't have anything else to say to me, then I think I'll return to the campfire now which you are welcome to come to if you're going shut the hell up for the rest of the night. If not, Hershel will show you where you're sleeping."
Merle felt inclined to say sorry, but he couldn't recall a day in his life when he had ever apologized and so it made it awkward for him. He took a few steps back from her. "For a woman, you sure don't shit around."
"Not anymore I don't. Maybe before I lost Amy, but now I don't really have a heart, just brains and a mouth," said Andrea coldly.
"Well, I, uh, I didn't mean to scare you," said Merle, feeling like the words had gotten lost on the way out his mouth.
Andrea's forehead creased and she shook the wrinkles out of her shirt. "If that's 'sorry', I guess that's as good of an apology I'm going to get." She stomped past him but he reached out and took her upper arm in a soft grip.
"Sorry," he said clearly, meeting her gaze so strongly that she had to look away for a moment. She didn't respond, but he could have sworn that he saw the tiniest inclination of her head, which was good enough for him. He let her return to the campfire while he stood there underneath the trees feeling very conflicted.
