Anyone wonder why Kaylee comes to Merle only? Well, she represents his guilt and only shows up when he does feel guilty. I think I explained this before, but this is just a refresher. But, here's your Thanksgiving chapter! All eat safe and please don't deep fry a frozen turkey! Enjoy! (Also be safe with Black Friday!)
"So first, I say something I've never done and if you've done it, you drink, and if you haven't, I drink." Beth explained the rules after having Daryl agree to play. "Then we switch."
The table was moved between them as each now had a jar of moonshine equal to one another- half full. She sat across from him as he moved to the floor, back against the chair. Daryl rubbed his lips when she told the game play, it wasn't that it was confusing to him. If anything, he never understood drinking games. He never did it, Merle never did it, and sure as well his father never did it.
Beth felt like she might have confused him with the silent look he was giving. "You really don't know this game?" She was sure everyone knew the game 'I Never'.
"I ain't never needed a game to get lit before." He told, knee brought up to rest his elbow on it.
Beth frowned, looking down than back up to him. "Wait, are we starting?"
"How do ya know this game?" He asked, pointing a finger at her. She claimed to have never drank before, yet she knew this game really well.
"My friends played, I watched." Beth answered, assuring she didn't participate. Her daddy would've killed her if she had back then. "Okay, I'll start." The teen thought of something easy, nodding to herself. "I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."
Daryl reached for his jar, "Ain't much of a game." he drawled taking a sip.
"That was a warm-up." She told. "Now you go."
Daryl hummed to himself, placing the jar down. Bringing his hand back up to his mouth in his usual manner, he struggled to think of something. He wasn't going to like telling about himself with this game. "I don't know." He shrugged.
Beth held the cup she still used, not wanting to put her mouth on the jar. "Just say the first thing that pops into your head." She urged, eager to play.
First thing, huh? "I ain't never been out of Georgia." He told.
Beth's brows rose, "Really? Okay, good one." she took a sip indicating to Daryl she had left the state before. Probably for a vacation or family trip, he supposed. "I've never… Been drunk and did something I regretted."
Almost with hesitance, Daryl took the jar taking his drink. "I've done a lot of things." He told, putting it back down.
"You're turn." She told.
Daryl glanced up then back down, thinking to get something that wouldn't be too… wrong for his upbringing compared to Beth's. "I ain't never been on vacation."
"What about camping?" Beth asked, thinking that'd be the same thing.
Daryl shook his head, rubbing the hairs on his chin. "No, that was just somethin' I had to learn, to hunt."
Beth grew more curious. "Your dad teach you?"
"Mh-hmm." Daryl hummed, "Merle n' I." he confirmed.
The teen shrugged, "Okay." taking her sip. So, she had gone on vacation, Daryl thought maybe she considered camping to be a vacation. "I've never broken a bone."
Daryl eyed her up, nodding to his drink. "Go on."
Her brows went up. "Really? Never?" She asked, taking a sip. "Not even when camping or hunting?"
"Naw, Merle has though." Daryl told, reaching over to move his jar from the edge of the table. "We was young 'n, right before Merle went to the army. He just started wrestlin' with me- At me." He corrected. "He fell down down the stars n' broke his arm." Daryl held his arm up, pointing at three spots on his forearm. "Here, here, n' here."
"Did he get a cast?" Beth asked.
Daryl rested his arm back down, hand at his chin. "Had to force him, he fought how he was fine n' didn't need no doctors to tell him what he knew."
Beth chuckled, that sounded like Merle. The man cut his own hand off and survived that, wouldn't surprise her if he made his own splint or something. "Your turn."
Daryl glanced down, trying to think of something. "Ain't never had a family reunion." He blurted out, feeling his mind grow empty on what to say.
Beth took a drink, sighing as she placed the cup down. "We used to have them, on my daddy's side. We would throw horseshoes and have a big meal."
"Big family?" Daryl asked.
Beth nodded, placing the jar down. Now it was her turn to come up with something. "I've never… been in jail. I mean, as a prisoner."
Daryl looked up at that, pausing in rubbing his fingers together as he felt something switch inside his head. This seemed like an innocent game, but now this was becoming a tad personal for the hunter.
"Is that what ya think of me?" He questioned, his eyes thinning into a glare at her dumb smile.
Beth sat up, "I didn't mean anything serious." she assured. "I just thought, you know, like the drunk tank." He had said he got drunk and did something he regret, is that what brought this idea to her mind? "Even my dad got locked up for that, back in the day."
"Drink up." Daryl told, motioning to her cup.
He just wanted to go to the next subject. Daryl was disliking this game more and more. His aggravation was climbing after drinking a considerable smaller amount than Beth had been. He's surprised her speech hadn't started slurring yet.
"Wait." Beth grinned, leaning onto the table. "Prison guard. Were you a prison guard before?"
This guessing, this God damn guessing game. It was fine when Zach did it, when he was alive, when the prison was home, everyone was alive. Only one person knew who he really was, accepted and loved him no matter what. That person was gone from his life, dead or alive- Did it matter?
"No." He growled at her.
Beth swallowed, feeling the tension grow. But she persisted the game continue. "It's your turn again."
Daryl moved to stand, roughly hitting the palm of his hand on the table. "I'm gonna take a piss." He told, carrying the jar with him.
Beth sat, looking down at her drink as she waited for him. The jar slipped from Daryl's fingers as he started undoing his belt. "You have to be quiet." She hissed, expecting him to go outside.
"I can't hear you!" Daryl suddenly barked at her, standing in the corner. "I'm takin' a piss!"
"Daryl, don't talk so loud."
Daryl looked over his shoulder, preceding to urinate on the wall without care. "What, are ya my chaperon now?" He snapped at her.
Beth turned away as he finished his business desecrating the wall.
"Oh, wait. It's my turn, right?" He asked, zipping his pants and buckling his belt. "I never, uhh…" He marched over, looking down at the teen who stood rigid. "Never ate frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony. Never got nothin' from Santa Clause." Daryl slapped the chair, near tipping the crate of moonshine over. "Never relied on anyone for protection before!" Daryl walked around, then spun at her. "Hell, I don't think I ever relied on anyone for anythin'!" He claimed, though it was a lie deep down.
Beth shook her head, this wasn't what she wanted. "Daryl-"
"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public, like everythin' was fun." Daryl paused his pacing, staring her down. "Like everythin' was a big game." He turned away, then back at her, "I sure as hell never cut my wrist lookin' for attention!" making a cutting motion at his wrist.
Beth glanced down at her wrist, she kept bands and bracelets there to hide the scar. Daryl stood there shaking with anger, taking it all out on her. He needed to calm down. Before she could say a word, thudding was heard against the wall outside. The walker from earlier growling at the noise Daryl was making.
"Oh! Sounds like our friend out there is tryin' to call all of his buddies!" He kicked pots and pans out of his way, reaching for his crossbow he hung on the wall.
"Daryl, just shut up." She hissed, her teeth gritting wanting him to just stop it.
"Hey!" He pointed a finger at her. "Ya never shot a crossbow before? I'm gonna teach ya right now." Daryl marched over, roughly taking her wrist, heaving her to her feet. "Come on. It's gonna be fun."
Daryl kicked the door open as Beth tugged her arm from him. "We should stay inside!" He ignored her, dragging her out and down the porch. "Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!"
The walker saw them leave the home, snarling as he stumbled past the branches. "Dumbass." Daryl named it, seeing it eagerly head their way. "Come here, dumbass!"
He fired the bolt, nailing it in the chest. It lodged the walker into the tree, Daryl quickly pulled the tension back with ease.
"Daryl-"
"Ya want a shoot?" He asked, ripping another bolt from the front of holster.
"I-I don't know how." She suttered, her head whipping between the walker and Daryl.
"Oh, it's easy. Come here." He assured, roughly holding her as he placed the crossbow in front of her. "Right corner."
The bolt flew and lodged into it's left thigh, Beth pushed him off as he stumbled. "Let's practice later!" She urged, not wanting to do this.
The drunk hunter pulled the tension back, reloading just as fast as before. "Come on, it's fun."
No, this wasn't fun. This was stupid. "Just stop it." He reached for her, arm around her shoulder. "Daryl!"
She struggled under his grip, smelling the booze off him. He was drunk and she hadn't expected him to act like this. This whole charade had sobered her up quickly. "Eight ball." He whispered.
He fired and the third bolt hit right in the center of his chest. This was just torture, for the walker and Beth. "Just kill it!"
Daryl lifted his bow seeing he had used all his bolts, forgetting how many he had. "Come here, Greene." He called, marching up to the walker. "Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice."
Beth couldn't stand this any longer. He was going to get them killed if he continued. The walker reached out for Daryl, he ignored the fact it could scratch him still. Beth ran over with her knife out and stabbed it in the head, killing the walker. Daryl frowned, glaring at the teen as she ripped it out of the skull.
"What the hell ya do that for? I was havin' fun!" He barked at her, as she stomped away from him.
Beth turned at him, "No, you were being a jackass!" she yelled at him. "If anyone found my dad-"
Daryl pointed a finger at her, not wanting this to be brought back up. "Don't! That ain't remotely the same!"
"Killing them is not supposed to be fun!"
Daryl was near snarling himself, first he was too uptight now he was a jackass? "What do ya want from me girl, huh!?" The alcohol was messing with his thoughts, too intoxicated to see the problem.
"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anything! Like nothing we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you! If Angela was here-"
"What if she was!? Huh!?" He hollered in her face, daring her to keep going. "Ya rather she be here? Be yer drinkin' buddy!? Share feelin's n' cry all day long!?"
"Angela wouldn't let you do this!" She yelled, motioning toward the walker. "You don't even want to look for her! She loved you and you don't care! It's bullshit!"
Daryl eyed her up, stepping back and forth hearing her rant. "Is that what ya think?" She was accusing him of all people that he didn't give a damn about those they lost. him!?
"That's what I know." Beth corrected.
Daryl stepped up to her face. "Ya don't know nothin'."
She shook her head, getting in his making him back up. "I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. Just like Kaylee!" Daryl stepped back at that accusation. "I'm not Angela. I'm not Michonne. I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I've survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them. But I made it and you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid."
Daryl's eyes slit into a glare again. "I ain't afraid of nothin'." He growled, though his tone faltered the lie.
Beth looked into his eyes, watching him lean away from her. He expected her to cry and leave but she stood her ground. "I remember." She spoke. "When that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom. You were like me. Angela was there, you pushed her away but she was still there for you."
Daryl turned away making space between them, knowing she was reading him right. "And now, God forbid, you ever let anybody else get too close again."
"Too close, huh? Ya know all about that." He accused, pointing a finger in her face as he felt his flare return. "Ya lost two boyfriends, ya can't even shed a tear! Yer whole family's gone, all ya can do is just go out lookin' for hooch like some dumb college bitch!"
"Screw you." She snapped at him. "You don't get it."
"No, ya don't get it!" He spat her her, making her step back. "Everyone ya know is dead!"
"You don't know that!" She screamed at him.
"Might as well be, 'cause ya ain't never gonna see 'em again!" Beth exhaled, holding back the urge to let a cry out. "Rick. Ya ain't never gonna see Maggie again!"
Beth shook her head, grabbing his wrist. "Daryl, just stop!"
"No!" He shoved her off, turning away as he named down the people who he believed to be among the dead now. He turned his back to her, refusing to look at her. "The Governor rolled right up to our gates!"
Daryl's lungs took in air and exhaled it, his mind molded his words together with his emotions. The sight he saw; his girl and brother pinned in the yard, Hershel and Michonne held captive.
"Maybe if I- Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped lookin'. Maybe 'cause I gave up- That's on me!"
Beth saw his colors finally show. He was blaming himself this entire time, taking all the fault. She hadn't known this was all bottled up inside, waiting to explode. "Daryl-"
He pulled away as she tried to reach for him. "No." His voice cracked and his eyes stung. "Angie she- She was out there, hunted like an animal. I couldn't- I didn't protect her."
He shook his head, bringing his arms up now and again. His chest heaved in and out, blinking his eyes best he could as the hair hung in his face. Daryl had already shed his feelings to himself of the fate Angie had. But coming to actual terms with what he witnessed and the guilt riding him for so long to someone else.
"I couldn't keep Kaylee safe, and now Angie's..." Daryl exhaled with a small sound of a whimper. "I lost her…"
"Daryl, please." Beth pleaded, touching his arm.
"And yer dad." His voice strained but he let his mouth continue to go off. "Maybe-Maybe I could have done somethin'-"
Beth couldn't handle hearing the man kick himself repeatedly any longer. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging tightly into his back. He stumbled at the impact, feeling his throat constrict at the contact of comfort. Raising his head up at the sky, Daryl finally felt the tears escape as they trailed down his dirty cheeks. The sun shined on his sweat covered face, he hunched his head into the shade as the tears mixed with sweat dripping off his chin and nose. Beth looked over his shoulder at him, hearing the soft sobs that escaped his lips. She hugged him tighter, pressed her face into the wings on his vest, allowing him to have his moment to cry.
Daryl wanted Angie to be alive so badly, but there was no way she had made it out of that yard. Eaten alive, shot killed, maybe even wandering as a walker somewhere. He was fearful of knowing the truth of her fate. Knowing he wouldn't feel the soft touch of her pale skin, hold her thin hands and wrap his arms around her slim figure. Hear her laughter and listen to her reading her history books. Her voice fading from his thoughts, wishing to hear it, feeling her touch, and watch her smile.
His shoulders shook as he cried for the lost of Angela.
The silence of that evening would be unbearable to many, but to Merle it was complete peace. Sitting across the room from Angela who was welded to the corner, held a can of beans sitting at the bar. Tilting his head back, he let the cold food pour into his mouth, chewing his meal and wiping his lips against the back of his hand.
"Y'know," He spoke up, mouth filled of beans. "We got ourselves enough gas make it to Orchard Hill. Few miles or so."
Merle swallowed, standing from the stool and striding over toward her. She sat there, arm resting against her chest in the sling with her head leaned back staring at the ceiling. A flashlight found in the office was used to light up the growing dark room. He leaned against the wall across from her, crossing his ankles and holding the can as if it was a beloved beer can. Angela hadn't eaten anything in the pile beside her. She had a variety of choices, from the jars of pickles to cans of beans and bags of nachos to some tomato sauce. Merle's eyes wandered toward her when he heard a small sound of her stomach growling, begging for food.
"Eat." He ordered. She didn't respond, just blinking at the ceiling ignoring him. "Eat something." Merle repeated, stirring the beans in the can. "If ya don't pick something up, I'll shove beans down your throat, woman."
With little effort, Angela looked down at the pile. She grabbed a bag of nachos and opened it with her teeth. She slowly munched on the salty treats, taking her time to picking the next chip out of the bag. Merle hummed tilting back the can against his lips, finishing off his meal. He tossed it to the floor, letting it clank and roll across the floor.
"It'll be better once we're on the road." He assured, striding over Merle knelt down in front of her by the flashlight. "Find something to get that damn bullet out of ya. Then we'll hold down a place, defend it, make it our own."
Angela's eyes now on her bag didn't shift up to acknowledge his plan. Resting his arm on his knee, hand tapping his knuckle on. The silence was starting to wear on him, expecting a smartass comment or blunt retort from the scarred woman.
"Ya should know by now, not everyone makes it in the end." He told her, trying to get any reaction at this point.
"The lights are on, but nobody's home." Commented Kaylee beside him. Merle didn't need this right now. The teen's fist phased through Angela's head as she attempted to knock on it. "Hellooo?"
"Stop it." Merle hissed at her.
Kaylee looked at him, a grin stretching on her lips. "It's not like she knows I'm here. Unless you want to tell her."
"Hell, no." He rasped, making Angela finally look up at him. He caught her eyes, Kaylee leaving his sights when his focus moved towards Angela. Her eyes grew narrow, soon she looked away biting into another chip.
"She thinks your crazy." Kaylee whispered, leaning to his side.
Merle growled in frustration, Angela glanced up again. She didn't question how he was acting, he kept glaring next to him and shaking his head. Angela finished her chips, crumbling the bag and tossed it away.
"You pretty much sent that horse to its death." Kaylee told, Merle looked over seeing her sitting on the second billiards table. "Sure, it saved your life and helped get Angela out. But, in return, it gets the death sentence."
Kaylee brought her thumb to her neck, and make a slicing notion. She tilted her head, and stuck her tongue out to the sound, making gagging noises as if she was decapitated. Merle glared at the phantom, moving toward the bar to find some alcohol to block her out.
"Just say sorry, that's all. How hard is that?" She asked, crossing her leg over her knee as she leaned back on her elbows.
"I ain't saying it." He told her, crouching down at the lower shelves expecting every bottle there. Each one was bone dry empty. "Thought the girl had grown a pair, I was wrong."
"Merle," The redneck stood, spotting the teen apparition sitting at the bar, arms resting on wooden surface as if she was really there. "She literally has no family left. If this was Daryl, he would've tried to save that horse."
"The hell ya on 'bout?" He spat at her, waving his hand in the air. "It's a dumb animal, it's only a damn shame I didn't kill and cook its ass. Would've lasted us a good while."
"Ah!" Kay held a finger up, waging it at him. "But you didn't. If Angela wasn't here, sure, you'd be eating it raw without a care. Anything to survive- But you didn't." She stated again, leaning forward as he looked away. "You made sure it was nearby when Angela hungered for its comfort."
The teen leaned back, cupping her chin in thought as she stuck her lower lip out. "Now thinking it, Calypso was the only living being that cared about her. Now, she's got no one."
Merle narrowed his gaze at Kay, slamming his hand down at the bar. "Ya make it as if I wouldn't understand what it feels to be alone. To have no one give a Jack's ass about ya."
The teen faltered, blinking at the words he hissed out at her. "Well, I mean-"
Merle leaned into her face as she leaned back from the stool as if she'd tip off. "Ya don't know shit 'bout me. Left on a roof to die, cut my own hand off to survive. Wandered aimlessly near bleeding to death. I didn't need anyone, got to Woodbury. Then my brother was alive, and found a new family- Proper kin."
The redneck circled around the bar, Kay turned in her seat as he stood right in front of her. "Then, some little brat pestered me, sticking her nose where it don't belong. Because of her, I stand here dealing with you."
He held a finger in her face, she flinched as if he was going to hit her. The dark glare in his blue eyes made his guilt fear his anger. "Ya look like her, ya sound like her. But ya ain't the Princess I know."
Merle growled at her, when he blinked away his glare he found the teen apparition to have disappeared. He huffed and spat at the floor, as if a bull had just won a fight. This whole seeing Kaylee was wearing him down. Only way to get rid of this problem was to tell Angela. If he told her what happened maybe he'd be left from being haunted by her. Merle now sees this wasn't the same Princess who followed him around and defended him. She's dead.
The older Dixon left the bar walking over to Angela. "Yo, Hot Head."
He came around the table seeing she had curled up into a ball, sleeping on the floor. He chewed his lip, looking around he saw the poncho she took with her. It laid on the corner of the pool table after she changed her shirt. Merle took the blanket and walked over, draping it over the woman. She inhaled sharply and rubbed her forehead into her arm, Merle walked back across from her and sat down with his back against the wall. He sighed resting his head back and closing his tired eyes, letting light sleep take over for the night.
It was a calm night for the pair in the shack as well. After the fight and breakdowns, confessions and heartfelt moments, they were finally sobering up from the moonshine. They sat on the porch in the dark, chatting to one another and enjoying the quiet night. Daryl just fiddled with his knife, sticking the sharp tip into the wood. Now and again he picked at the wood letting bits of splinters to chip out. Beth sat with him, looking up in deep thought.
"I get why my dad stopped drinking." She told, looking to Daryl.
He glanced up, pausing in his wood picking. "Ya feel sick?" Daryl asked, noticing she hadn't shown any signs of a hangover from the heavy drinks.
"Nope." Beth assured, hugging her knees as she smiled at him. "I wish I could feel like this all the time." She chuckled. "That's bad."
Daryl hummed with amusement, "Yer lucky yer a happy drunk." he told.
"Yeah, I'm lucky." She agreed. "Some people can be real jerks when they drink."
"Yeah," Daryl stuck his knife into the wooden been in front of him, his boots pressing against it at the bottom. "I'm a dick when I'm drunk." He grinned at her, twisting the handle.
"What's Angela like? I mean, when she's drunk." Daryl chewed his lip, Beth swallowed, rubbing the ends of her boots against one another. "Sorry, um, we don't-"
"Naw, it's a'right." Daryl assured, shrugging. "Just never seen her drunk. Wouldn't know."
Beth smiled at him, "Good thing she never saw you drunk." she mused.
Daryl nodded, his brows raising for a moment. "Ain't that right." Daryl looked down at his knife, softly stabbing the floorboards. "Angie told me she used to drink in high school."
Beth leaned forward with interest. "Seriously?"
"Just beer or shots, don't know if she'd like moonshine." He told.
Thinking to himself of what Angie would think of the booze, he inwardly smiled. She would probably sip a little and want to play that dumb game with Beth. Then again, knowing how Angie can be, probably turn it into something sexual. His eyes roamed the porch, a memory striking him of his brother.
"Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker." He started, glancing up to the teen from the floor. "One day we were over at his house watchin' TV. Wasn't even noon yet, we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watchin' show n' Merle was talkin' all this dumb stuff 'bout it. Merle wouldn't let up, Merle never could." His eyes casted down as the knife chipped at the wood.
"Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show." He told, looking up to Beth who nodded. "And he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty 'bout it or somethin'." Daryl motioned his fist softly. "So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hittin' the tweaker, like, hard- As hard as I can."
Daryl licked his lips, shaking his head at the dumb memory. "Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here." He moved his free hand up against his temple, shaping it as if his hand was the gun. "He says, "I'm gonna kill ya, bitch." So merle pulls his gun on him." His hand rest back to his side. "Everyone's yellin', I'm yellin'. I thought I was dead." Daryl sighed. "Over a dumb cartoon 'bout a talkin' dog."
Daryl scoffed, looking down feeling the blade get stuck. "How'd you get out of it?" Beth asked.
"The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked, they both started laughin' n' forgot all 'bout it." Daryl raised his head up, looking right at her. "Ya want to know what I was before all this? I was just driftin' 'round with Merle doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day."
He looked out into the dense woods, sighing through his nose. "I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole n' an even bigger asshole for a brother."
"You miss him, don't you?" Beth asked, referring to whether he survived the prison attack or not. Daryl looked away, not giving an answer, to her it was a yes.
"I miss Maggie." He looked up at her. "I miss her bossing me around." Beth chuckled. "I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoying and overprotective. Like you were with Kay." Daryl's baby blues shined in the moonlight when he looked up. She added weakly, "And my dad." in a soft whisper.
Daryl sighed again, looking into the woods before them. "I miss Angie, miss her so much." Beth swallowed, listening to the redneck. "Miss her always naggin' at me to keep our cell organized. Readin' her books late at night when I was dead ass tired, light on n' shit." His lips curled, as he pointed at the tip of his nose. "Her nose would flare up, everytime I brought back a new book for her. A huge smile on her face, excited to read the stupid thing."
Beth smiled, soon Daryl's faded. "Miss her eyes, her smile, the way she walked n' talked. Always had this…" He waved his hand in the air, trying to find the right word. "This, feelin, y'know? Used to rush back from the runs just to see her at the prison."
"You love her." Beth said, smiling softly at the hunter.
Daryl twist the handle, looking down at the knife then back at her, head raised high. "I do."
Beth chuckled, letting out her own sigh. "Daddy loved her, he liked whenever she borrowed his books. Comparing them to her own history books." The teen swallowed, thinking of what future the old man could've had. "I thought- I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby. And he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthday and holidays and Summer picnics."
Daryl nodded, letting her continue what she envisioned her father's remainder of his life was hoped to be. What it should've been. "And he'd get really old. And it'd happen, but it'd be quiet." Beth shrugged. "It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by people he loved."
Beth laughed, trying to fight back the urge to cry. Daryl watched, seeing her blinking up at the sky to keep the tears at bay. "That's how unbelievably stupid I am." She reached down for her jar and sipped at the moonshine, wanting the alcoholic effects to come back. Make her the happy little drunk again.
"That's how it was supposed to be." Daryl agreed.
Beth sighed, folding her knees up tighter. "I wish I could just… change."
"Ya did." Daryl assured, looking up at her sad eyes.
"Not enough." Beth shook her head. "Not like you. It's like you were made for how things are now. You and Merle both."
"Merle, he's got military experience under his belt. I'm just used to this, things bein' ugly." Daryl dismissed. "Growin' up in a place like this."
"Well, you got away from it." Beth told.
Daryl paused in his twisting of the handle, his grip slackened. "I didn't." He denied.
"You did." She argued.
"Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes."
"No." Beth shook her head, "You can't depend on anybody for anything, right?" she reminded.
His thumb rubbed the butt of the handle, gripping it as she grinned at him. "Angie had to do that too, get things through my thick skull." He whispered, looking away at the trees. "I depended on her."
Past tense, Beth noticed the hunter referring to Angie or his brother in a past tense. As if they were gone and not coming back. Beth watching him, hearing the crickets envelope their silence.
"I'll be gone someday." She spoke.
"Stop." Daryl looked up.
"I will." Beth insisted, gaining Daryl's full attention. "You're gonna be the last man standing." Daryl thought deeply of her words, looking away in denial. "You are." He didn't want to hear that, hear Beth claim she'll die one day. How she wasn't made for this world, how she wasn't going to get through it all.
Her ghost smile shined at him, her eyes glassy and reflecting the moonlight. "You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon." She laughed.
Daryl just stared at her, his head started to hurt thinking how her story would end. "Yer not a happy drunk at all." He noted.
"Yeah, I'm happy." She assured, smile still there. "I'm just not blind. You got to stay who you are, not who you were. Places like this, you have to put it away." Beth told sternly, this place bringing harsh memories to Daryl.
"What if ya can't?" Daryl questioned, tilting his head back against the beam behind him.
"You have to, or it kills you." The redneck brought his hands to rest on his upper knee, still gripping the knife as it reflecting the light in the sky. Beth smiled, pressing her fingers to her chest where her heart was. "Here." She smiled.
Daryl chewed his lip, his eyes wandering about. When he glanced over toward the trees hearing the bugs and creatures grow louder as the night grew on. "We should head inside." He advised.
He found a large grin on the blonde's rosy cheeked face, what was she thinking? "We should burn it down." Beth suddenly suggested.
Daryl inhaled deeply at her offer, he stood using the beam to get to his feet. Bending down to pick up his near empty jar, he took a few creaky steps to the door. He paused and half turned to her, shrugging with the jar in his hand.
"We're gonna need more booze." He told, walking into the shack.
Beth beamed and stood, following after him. Daryl grabbed a large jug and twisted the cap off, splashing the walls and ceiling of the moonshine. Beth seized for a few jugs and jars, splashing the floor and furniture with the alcohol. They covered the walls and items inside with the booze, soaking the wood and kicking things about. Jars were shattered when thrown to the floor or walls. Gathering the needed supplies, the pair finished off the porch throwing the jars for them to shatter into and roll against the floorboards.
Outside, Daryl dropped the stuff onto the ground, fishing out his matched from his vest pocket. "Ya wanna?" He offered to Beth.
"Hell, yeah." She accept the match as Daryl held up the stack of bills he took from the gold club.
It soon took in the small lighted match and he tossed the flaming cash onto the porch. It ignited quickly, the fire spreading throughout the booze soaked shack. The pair moved away from the growing flames, lighting the area for them to watch the damned place burn. Daryl threw one last jar at the place, hearing it break when it made contact to the door. When they were at a safe distance, feeling the heat of the flames grow, they watched it go up in a blaze. Beth threw her arm into the air and flipped the burning place off. She nudged Daryl, who complained and joined in giving the place a good fuck you. It felt good, for both of them. It was goodbye salute to their past, telling the past of their lives to fuck off into the flames.
They dropped their arms once Daryl spotted walkers emerging from the woods toward the fire, like moths. He patted her arm, indicating they had to take their leave. Beth lingered as Daryl took lead, soon following the hunter. Daryl adjusted the strap of his crossbow, biting back a smirk as the flames heat faded from his back. He needed this, she needed this. It was them now, just Daryl and Beth.
If Merle had to really chose, he rather be tasting that vodka than gasoline right now. Early morning, the redneck was siphoning gas from the cars found in the back for the Camaro he fixed to drive today. He wanted every bit of gas from the other cars as much as possible to get them far from their. If lucky, maybe a pharmacy would be found that'd have the needed supplies for Angela's wound. Merle determined if he can't remove the bullet alone, Angela might have to be awake and aid in the removal. He just didn't want to render her arm useless by hitting a nerve.
Filling the tank, he twisted the cap and shut the gas lid. Merle shook the plastic container of gas, feeling it a quarter empty. "Better than nothing." He determined, tossing it into the trunk and slamming it shut.
His eyes shifted to the doors, Angela standing by waiting to leave. He was expecting her to have left him in the car when he awoke, but saw her eating a few bags of cheese twists and a can of veggies. She still hadn't said a word, not even acknowledging Merle, though he's been rather silent himself.
"Climb your ass in." He told, motioning for the passenger door.
Angela walked from the door and rounded the car. She opened the door and climbed in, slamming it a bit harshly. Merle scoffed and started loading the bowling ball bags with food and other items he took from the place. He tossed a cue stick or two as well. He thought if sharpened at the end, could be used as a good weapon. Merle slammed the back doors and stood by the front, taking his gun out. He checked the empty magazine, sighing as he tossed it into the back seat. They also needed to find ammo and weapons, the cue sticks and a switch blade won't defend them forever. Merle turned and overlooked the building, the thought of staying came to mind. But they couldn't, it wasn't secure enough and he needed to get Angela's arm fixed.
The redneck opened the car door and climbed in with a slam. He started the car and it purred, making Merle nod. "Not my choice of a ride, but it'll do." He mused, glancing to Angela seeing her rest her forehead against the glass. "If ya gonna be sick, stick your head out the window."
Angela adjusted her seating as the car rolled out from the parking lot and drove down the road. The green trees passed by, the windows were warm as the sun rose higher in the sky. Though it had grown chilly that morning, Merle thought it was too soon for the cold season to arrive. Then again, he tried to count back how long it was since the fall of Woodbury. About, five or six months it's been. Damn, half a year… Half a year since Kaylee's death. Merle's hand gripped the wheel, sighing through his nose. He gave a small glance to Angela, she looked out of it. Her arm against her chest in the sling as the other resting against her stomach. His eyes shifted back to the road, his handless arm resting by the gear shift.
"Once we find a pharmacy or some shit, we can get your arm working again." He told, which he felt he was repeating himself at this point. "Bad enough we got one hand down, don't need two."
Angela sighed through her nose, refusing to respond to him. He rolled his eyes, needing her to respond at some point. Merle could just enjoy her silence, but that alone was getting on his nerves.
"Listen woman, if ya wanna be a bitch, go for it. But ya ain't gonna hold grudges over my head, I saved your ass too many times." He told, leaning to his right.
Angela's brows furrowed, turning to him. "Once."
"Hm?"
"You saved my ass once." She argued.
Merle grinned, lifting his finger up and waving it up. "Naw, naw, girl. I kept ya from choking the death." Angela narrowed her eyes at his smug look. He lifted another finger, his thumb hooked around the wheel to keep a grip. "Then I got your fainted ass out from the prison."
"Wow, you saved me twice, you deserve all the blow jobs." She countered making him laugh.
"Well, if you're offering-"
"Fuck off." Angela spat, looking back out the window. She fidgeted with her arms, wanting to cross them across her chest.
He just shook his head, chuckled at her. "Oh wait, make that three times."
Her head whipped at him. "Where are you getting-"
"I killed the Governor before he could kill you. Remember?"
Angela couldn't argue against that one. She huffed and looked toward the empty road. "Shouldn't I be driving?"
Merle's brows knotted, "Why?" he asked. "Think I can't handle it?" He ask, recurling his fingers around the wheel.
"Out of the two of us, who has more hands- Oh, and still has all our fingers?" She questioned, raising a brow at him.
Merle shook his head, "I've driven in worst conditions." he assured. "Ya women aren't all that good in driving."
Angela sat up, "Excuse me!?" she barked. "Oh, you are such a sexist bigot!"
The redneck cackled. "Trust me, Little D-"
"Don't mention him." She spat venomously at him, making him glance to her. "Just don't."
Merle smirked, "He's my brother, I'll say whatever shit I want 'bout him." he countered.
"I don't want to hear it." She told.
Now Merle was getting pissed off. Telling him what to do-
"What else do ya wanna talk about?" He asked, weaving to the left on purpose to make her lean toward him. She glared adjusting her seat. "We can talk about Rick, how he got the shit beaten out of him. Talk about how stupid it was to let you out there when ya would've been safer in the cells. Oh! Oh!" He weaved sharply to the right, her shoulder almost hitting the car door, which she avoided.
"Merle, stop it."
"Nah, I got a good one! How about that mousy girl- Carol! When was the last time ya saw her? Before ya got sick?" He asked, pounding on the gas. The car burst up from forty miles to sixty, Angela gripped the door handle.
"Stop it! We're gonna get hurt!" She barked at him.
"You wanted to talk about something else, I got something! Ya know how Karen and David died?" He weaved left and right wildly, making Angela tense in her seat looking at the angered redneck like he was a lunatic. "Carol, that best friend of yours, went in there and killed 'em. Killed 'em both in their beds. She dragged 'em both out and set them on fire. Burnt them like crispy bacon."
"What are you talking about!?"
"I'm talking about how I had to watch your ass cause Carol was killing the illed ones!" He barked at her, she coiled into the side away from him. "Rick left her, exiled her to defend herself! That's right, the sheriff tossed her to the road!"
Merle slammed down on the breaks, making the tired screech against the road. It soon stopped and Merle looked to her, Angela stared back at him in shock. Soon her head shook, her brows lowering and her face turning into a scowl.
"You're lying." She accused.
"I ain't lying." He growled, leaning toward her. "She done killed 'em, burned 'em, and acted like nothing had happened. Rick told me himself, she woulda killed ya."
"Carol isn't like that! She wouldn't-"
"Face the facts, Angela! That's her true colors, accept it!"
Angela looked down at the dashboard, her eyes searching as if figuring out why Carol would do it. To protect the others? In fear of getting sick? What if… what if Carol had the thought to kill Angela? Would she?
The car was moving again, back up to normal speed than before. The ride was silent, Merle was breathing through his nose to calm himself down. He hadn't meant for that to come out, but maybe it was best that she knew. The ride was silent for a good few minutes before it died again.
"Stop the car."
Merle frowned, "What?" he asked.
"Stop the damn car." She repeated, her voice at that angry tone again.
He shook his head. "Ain't happening."
"I will jump out of this fucking car, I swear." She told, glaring at him.
"Go for it." Merle challenged, pushing the gas pedal for the speed to rise. "Unless ya want a broken neck."
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"And your just a charming bitch, ain't ya?" He glanced to her, catching her narrow glare. "That damn horse was gonna die, get over it."
"I've gotten over the stupid horse!" She yelled in his ear, making him wince. "You're just a complete asshole! Okay!?"
Angela turned her shoulder to him, tucking against the door. After a few seconds, he heard sniffling and noticed her wipe her eyes. He sighed, shaking his head. "One minute your ready to rip my head off, now your crying your eyes out?"
Angela stayed silent, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and wiping her running nose.
"Hormonal." He commented, motioning toward the glove box. "Clean your mug up, woman."
Angela leaned over, opening it to find napkins with logos of a coffee shop on it. Despite the thick rough material, she rubbed her eyes and blew her nose, trying to stop crying. She had the napkins balled in her hand in her lap. Merle noticed she rubbed her stomach, wondering if she was feeling sick. He didn't see her show any signs, and she ate a good amount of the crap food they had. Maybe she was still getting over that flu a while back.
The drive lasted for a few hours, so far the long wide road never came up on any turns. When cars were found on the side, Merle would pull over, take whatever was inside, siphon the gas and move on. He kept a check on the gas, making sure it stayed above the second to last meter. Merle only took the chance to scavenge if he was sure no walkers were around, Angela would keep watch and used the stops to get things from the back or bathroom breaks. Merle took notice of this as well, almost every stop they made, at least four so far, she went into the woods to relieve herself. He only gone himself once and that was the first stop.
The redneck was currently waiting for her, back leaned against the side of the car as she was in the bushed a few yards away. He kept looking up and down the road, his ears open for any walkers. As he waited, he spotted a suitcase at the side of the road, a little bit away from the Sedan they had just scavenged. Sadly, the car had no gas and just some rotted corpses. But the sight of the dirty covered closed dull teal suitcase got the man's curiosity. Could be some extra clothing inside or weapons.
Merle sauntered over, picking it out of the dry mud by the handle and brought it over to the Camaro. He dropped it onto the hood and looked it over, seeing no locks on it. Merle unzipped it and flipped the lid opened, finding it to be a ladies package. How would he know? The sight of many lingeries, bras, tampons, and other assortments of pick and purple gave it all way. Merle dug through, usually he would find this to be a gold mine with all the silky underwears, but if there was nothing to help them survive he may as well ditch it back into the mud. He tossed the underwear, the deep luggage filled.
"Suppose she'll need these." Merle guessed, leaving the tampons inside. One box he picked up spilled into the suitcase, sinking to the bottom. "Sum a bitch." He curse, digging through to find them.
"Oh God, what are you doing?" Merle turned finding Angela had returned with a questionable disgusted look on her face. "Is that a prostitute's suitcase?"
Merle looked at the lacy garments in his hand and grinned at her. "These yours?" He asked, waving them in his hand.
Angela rolled her eyes, walking over and shoved him away from the suitcase. "I'll go through this."
"Ohh, want some of your own?" He dangled the sexy panties in her face. She swatted it away, letting it fall to the pavement. "Wanna make it a surprise for baby brother, right? He gets all the fun." Merle continued, despite Angela was tossing the sexual garments to the ground without care.
"What would you know?" Angela questioned.
Merle chuckled, earning a look from her. "Someone has to keep watch at night."
Angela frowned in thought, suddenly her eyes went wide and her cheeks grew hot. "You watched!? You-!"
Angela raised the box of tampons to hit him with it, to which he stepped back ready for the attack. She turned away, huffing and puffing as she collected the items, including whatever Merle spilled earlier.
"Let's go!" She barked, tossing the box into the back seat and sitting in the passenger side, slamming the door harshly.
Merle chuckled, climbing into the driver's finding Angela turned away from him again. "You should be proud, ya done the impossible. Ya deflowered Little D." He laughed at his joke, starting the car.
"If you want to keep whatever fingers you got left, you better shut the fuck up." She threatened.
"Pick a mood, honey." He told, turning the wheel to get the car onto the road. "Ya either want to talk to ol' Merle or ya sit there and cry. For once, I rather ya talk my ear off."
Angela pressed her forehead to the window, her brows knotted at her own behavior. She was more moody than usual, then again her period was supposed to arrive any time now. From the prison fall and the lost of Calypso, she could just be over stressed and it's causing it to skip this month. Angela unbuckled her seat belt and reached back for the bag of foods. She got out a can to what surprised Merle to be tomato sauce, she could've gotten the beans or bag of chips, but she chose the sauce? Expecting her to switch it, Angela took the switchblade off the dashboard and roughly opened the can. Once open, the woman tipped it back to her lips almost inhaling the sauce as if it was a fresh cold bottle of water. Merle shook his head, thinking what could be making her act like the way she was.
Thanks readerlover16 for the follows and favorites!
Kara315- Exactly, why should Calypso get the special treatment! I kind of cried myself writing this, I hate seeing animals die on this show so I just did what I hated and LOVED the reactions! Thanks! Ah, I got Merle planned out for a long time, I assure, he won't be leaving us for a while! Happy Thanksgiving!
RedVelvetPanPan- Yup, her time has ended with us. I wanted to write more with her but couldn't fit her in sadly. It really is, it actually makes multiple question tests harder cause all the numbers are together and at times I'll put B when I know the answer was C only because I didn't read the numbers right and got them mixed up. DUDE! Dollar Tree did the same shit to me! I worked there years ago for the holiday rush and out of nowhere wasn't set for work for a few weeks. I finally called and they didn't know how to tell me I was let go and pretty much acted like a bunch of pussies. I hate jobs like that shit! Hope you get an awesome job in the end! Thanks same here, Happy Thanksgiving!
