Chapter 9

"Ew, mama, Eli stinks," Sophia giggled, pinching her nose as Carol picked the baby up out of the crib. She carried him over to the changing table and made quick work of changing his messy diaper. But she was delighted to do it, considering she hadn't thought she'd ever have a changing table or a crib again, and Daryl had brought in a whole bunch of supplies a few days ago on the back of his pickup.

"All better," Carol promised, snapping the sleeper back up before swaddling the little one again. He fussed, and she rocked him back and forth as she carried him before finally laying him down and buckling him into the gliding swing. "There you go, little man." The baby fussed for a few moments before the swinging motion lulled soothed him into a sleepy state.

It was then that Carol could smell the mouth-watering aroma of pancakes on the stove, and her stomach grumbled.

"Alright, Sophia. Why don't we go get some breakfast? Sounds like Daryl's already got something ready."

"Uh-huh! I'm hungry. Can I have extra syrup?"

"Oh, we'll see," Carol chuckled. "You go on down, and I'll be right there."

"Ok, Mama." Sophia rushed out of the room.

"Don't run!"

"Sorry, Mama!" Carol could hear her steps slow until she got down the stairs, and then she sprinted off toward the kitchen. With a sigh, Carol moved across the room and looked herself over in the mirror. She flatted her hand against her tummy still amazed that a little over a month ago, she'd felt Elijah kicking away inside of her. It was hard to believe a month had passed since his birth. In many ways, it was still hard to believe that she was alive, that her children were safe, that somehow her family had expanded by four with the addition of baby Eli, Daryl, Merle, and of course, Brody. Though some were more reluctant than others.

She ran her fingers through her hair before pulling her curls up in a loose bun. She turned, admiring the new curves of her body, the way her breasts were swollen with milk, the way her belly was still rounded somewhat. She felt good. She was still tired, achy, and occasionally emotional as her body slowly returned to its regularly scheduled hormones.

She heard the thud of footsteps on the landing, and out of the corner of her eye, in the reflection of the mirror, she saw a flash of somebody walking past the door.

"Merle?" She moved swiftly to her door only to find his door shutting loudly in his wake. Pursing her lips, she marched across the hall and tapped at his door.

"Ain't feelin' like company."

"Why don't you come down and eat with the rest of us?"

"Don't feel like company," he repeated. Carol frowned and opened the door, only to find a steely, darkened pair of eyes glowering at her from across the room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with a plate balanced on his lap and a fork in his hand while he used the bandaged stump of the other arm to keep the plate steady.

"You should come downstairs. Spend time with your brother."

"Me and my brother spend plenty of time together. Who the hell you think helped him lug all this shit home for your kids?"

"You know, you'd think you could show a little gratitude. If it wasn't for Daryl, if it wasn't for the medicine in my house, you would probably be dead." She regretted her words the second they left her lips and were met with a look of pure vitriol.

"Sweetheart, look around. What on this godforsaken world is there to be grateful for? Ya'll should've let me die." She watched as he speared a piece of pancake with his fork and swallowed it down.

"If you hate it here so much, why don't you leave?" she asked. "Hmm?" She eyed him. "Daryl doesn't want to leave, does he? That's the only reason you tolerate staying here."

"Lady, you're a real piece of work. Tryin' to read me, tryin' to figure me out. Let me tell you somethin'. I'll let you in on a little secret. This here? This is me. There ain't nothin' to fix, nothin' to heal. You can't fix somethin' that's missin' too many pieces to be put back together. Whatever I used to be died the day I put my wife and daughter in the ground. You want Sammy Sunshine Positive? Look somewhere else, 'cause he ain't me." As Carol turned, he put his fork down with a loud clang. "And the day I decide to leave here, you best believe I ain't leavin' alone." She turned again, eyeing him, trying to read him, but she knew in that moment that the words he was about to say would hurt more than she expected them to. "You think he treats you good, that he does these things, that maybe he looks at you a little longer than he should. And you like it. You like how he is with your kids, 'cause I'm guessin' the sumbitch you was married to wouldn't treat you like a real woman. Wouldn't treat your kids like he should. But in comes my baby brother, the sweet one. And he's good with 'em. And he makes you smile. And he looks at ya like maybe there's somethin' there. But lemme tell ya, there ain't. It's always been him and me. Always. And no bitch with a couple leftovers from a shitty marriage is gonna change that."

Carol felt her blood run cold, and she honestly wasn't sure if she wanted to yell or cry, but instead, she turned and calmly walked out of the room, shutting Merle's door behind him. But when she turned around, she almost smacked right into Daryl. She froze, and Daryl put his hand on her arm, and she looked away, avoiding his gaze completely.

"Excuse me," she said quietly, stepping around him and starting for the stairs.

"Hey," he called. "What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing," she lied, taking a step down.

"Whatever he said…he ain't himself."

"Daryl," Carol sighed, "he's angry. He doesn't know how to deal with everything that's happened to him. He's lashing out."

"I'll talk to him."

"It's not just that," she sighed, glancing anxiously at Merle's door. "He's getting louder. Angrier. I know you say to trust him, but I'm worried about my kids." Daryl shifted, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Merle wouldn't hurt 'em."

"Maybe," Carols aid quietly, "but the things he says…"

"What'd he say to you? I knew it wasn't nothin'."

"It doesn't matter," Carol said quickly. "Look, you've become a part of this family. You have." She chewed her lip for a moment. "Now, I don't know exactly what part that is, but you're here, and you fit in, and you've helped make this place safe for my children. I will always be grateful for everything you've done. And I know you don't want to go anywhere without Merle. And you shouldn't have to, but—"

"Carol. I'll talk to him." Carol glanced one more time at Merle's door and then back at Daryl before she nodded. And then she left him to go downstairs. With a barely restrained groan of dread, he knocked at Merle's door.

"Might as well be open. Nobody cares 'bout shut doors around this place anyway." Daryl pushed the door open to find Merle finishing off his plate of food.

"What the hell'd you say to her?"

"What makes you think I said anything? She go cryin' to ya the second she left me?"

"Why do ya gotta be such a prick? You know what she's been through?"

"Baby brother, we all been through our own shit storms. None of it matters. Only thing that matters is that it's us versus them." He gestured toward the window with his injured arm. "The only thing that matters is keeping our skin away from their teeth, puttin' them down 'fore they get to us. And if they do get to us, we gotta have the balls to do what's gotta be done." He patted his bandage. "You think your sweetheart would have the nerve to do this to one of her kids? You think she'd do it for you if it came down to it?"

"What's wrong with you?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes. "You just gonna be mad at everybody? She wants to help ya."

"Only reason is 'cause she's sweet on you." Daryl flinched, and Merle grinned. "You're clueless, little brother. I seen the way you look at her. You're in love with her."

"I ain't," Daryl muttered.

"You're a shitty liar, bro," Merle smirked.

"Look, would ya stop bein' such an asshole 'fore she kicks you outta here?"

"You mean, us. 'Fore she kicks us outta here." Merle watched his brother, watched the way he took a step back, the way he rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans, the way he suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere else than in that room. "Huh. Well, ain't that somethin'. And I bet I can't even say it's 'cause you're pussy-whipped, huh?"

"Fuck you," Daryl bit out. "You don't know shit. You just wanna hate everybody and everything, 'cause the only woman who's ever gonna love you is dead!" Merle was up off the bed within half a second, pushing Daryl up against the wall. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and held his bad forearm sideways across Daryl's throat.

"You best be real careful what you say, baby brother. Blood or not, I'll lay you out flat."

"You're an idiot," Daryl spat. "You wanna blame everybody, when there ain't nobody to blame! You got a death wish or somethin'? You wanna push everybody away 'til you ain't got nobody left, even me." Merle grit his teeth and huffed, slamming Daryl back against the wall before he let him go.

"Get the hell out."

"Merle."

"Get out."

"Merle, you gotta stop this. You gotta wake up."

"Oh, I'm awake, little brother. For the first time in my life, I'm awake, and all I see is a fuckin' coward standin' in front of me. Can't tell the woman he loves how he feels, 'cause he's afraid of bein' turned down like the loser he always is."

"You sound like dad," Daryl spat. "That who you wanna be? A drug-addict who couldn't deal with this world, so he killed himself and took his wife along with him? That who you wanna be?"

"You forget my wife's already dead? My baby girl? You shoulda let me die. You shoulda let me be with them."

"You made the choice," Daryl reminded him. "You're the one that cut off your hand. Not me. I just cleaned up the mess you made. Again." He turned and walked out of the room, stopping by the nursery to pick up a fussy Eli before heading downstairs to be with better company. As much as it hurt to say those things to Merle, he knew it had to be said.

He moved toward the kitchen with the baby in his arms, and that was when he felt her hand on his back.

"Hey," she murmured softly. "What happened up there?"

"It's up to him," Daryl murmured, patting the baby's back gently. "He wants to leave, he can leave. But I ain't goin'. He ain't draggin' me anywhere else." He swallowed back his hesitation and brought one hand down to brush his fingers over hers. "I'm already home."