AN: There's a time jump after this chapter. This chapter has us back in Woodbury.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"I wondered where you were," the governor said as Merle approached him, holding the upper part of the woman's arm in his hand. Merle was well aware that it probably looked like he was manhandling her, but he was doing it of her own request.
Sadie was her name. Merle had gotten that much from her. And he could say one thing about her—she had balls. She was already down one sense and she'd allowed Merle to take another from her in exchange for only the promise that he wouldn't take his hand from around the top of her arm until the blindfold could come off.
"We got slowed down," Merle said. "She didn't keep up as quick as the rest."
"I've already talked to them," the governor said.
Merle stared hard at the man trying to read what that might mean. Merle didn't ask questions—at least not with his mouth—but he knew that sometimes talking meant that someone passed what was something of an entrance exam and were paraded down the main street to the clinic so that everyone could see they were being welcomed to Woodbury. Sometimes, however, talking meant that they went out behind the buildings. Those people never became part of Woodbury. They never became part of anything.
Merle had been asked to take care of them before. And he never asked, really, what made one person go one way when another went the other.
The governor laughed to himself. Clearly he understood the question that Merle didn't ask.
"They're all at the clinic," the governor said. "Getting checked out. A good meal and a good night's rest and they should all be doing well tomorrow. I'll take her over to be with her friends."
"Her name's Sadie," Merle said. "And if it's all the same to you? I'll take her over there myself."
The governor stared at him, and then he smiled. He nodded his head.
"If it's that important to you," the governor offered. "But—you've never really taken that much of an interest before, Merle."
"Different," Merle said. "She can't hear. Don't even know what's goin' on right now. Can't see neither with the blindfold on. I promised her I wouldn't stop holding her arm until I got her where she could take it off."
The governor nodded.
"Fine," he said. "They'll get them set up with rooms. Whatever they need. What about your brother? His wife?"
Merle shook his head.
"Ain't been no sign of 'em," Merle said.
"Your niece is adjusting well," the governor said.
Merle nodded his head.
"Soph's a good kid," Merle said. "Strong. Dixon through an' through."
"You still want to be on all the recruitment runs?" The governor asked. "You still believe your brother's out there?"
"Like I said," Merle answered. "Dixons—they don't kill easy. Daryl's out there. I'll find him."
The governor nodded and reached his hand out to touch Sadie's face. He disguised the movement as brushing some mud or dirt off her cheek, but Merle saw it for what it was. He just wanted the chance to touch her—and he had a perfect excuse.
Sadie recoiled almost violently from the act and Merle squeezed her arm and held tight to her. She stopped fighting against him, but he'd have had to be blindfolded to not see that her breathing had changed.
"She don't wanna be touched," Merle said. "Ain't fair—when she can't even hear it comin'."
"My apologies," the governor said. "You'll be sure to tell her? You can take the blindfold off as soon as you're in the clinic and she's checked for bites."
Merle nodded.
"I know the drill," Merle said.
He tugged at Sadie's arm and the woman came with him as willingly as she'd come with him every step of the journey so far. He walked slowly. She was going to stumble over the road because he couldn't tell her when to step up and when to lift her feet higher. The only thing he could do was brace himself to catch her when she started to go down and keep her from hitting her knees.
She couldn't see Woodbury, after all, until the governor's doctor and nurse had checked her out and declared her fit to stay there. Otherwise there was always a risk that she'd somehow escape and come back to do them harm. If something like that happened? Merle would be sent out to take her down.
He didn't want to do that. So he simply walked slowly, clinging tight to her arm, so that he was ready to heave her back to her feet if she should stumble.
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"Merle!" Sophia yelped, practically throwing herself at him as soon as the old neighbor woman opened her door. Holding his bayonet arm out to the side, Merle stooped down enough to accept Sophia's hug and once her arms were wrapped tight around his neck, he lifted her up.
"Thanks for watchin' her," Merle said.
Corinne, the elderly neighbor, smiled at him.
"She's never any trouble," the old woman said.
She reached behind her door and came out with a backpack—Sophia's purple backpack—that she offered to Merle. Sophia turned enough from where she was holding onto Merle's neck to reach out and take the bag.
"She's done her homework," Corinne said.
"Every last bit," Sophia assured Merle.
Merle laughed to himself. He'd never been one for school or studying, but he figured that Sophia's Ma—whenever she might come back—would be hoping that the girl hadn't fallen too far behind, especially once she found out that Woodbury had schools to teach the kids just about anything they'd need to know like math and reading.
"Smart like that," Merle said. "Woulda kept me hours doin' it."
"And there are some books in there," Corinne said. "We stopped by the library after I got her from school. Return them when you want."
Merle nodded his thanks to the old woman and bounced Sophia so that she could thank the lady for watching her. As soon as the door was closed, Merle lowered Sophia to the ground so that she could find her two feet again.
"Did you find anybody today, Merle?" Sophia asked.
"As a matter of fact, I did," Merle said.
He only ever told Sophia about the people that they brought back to Woodbury—the new people that she'd see here or there in the streets. He didn't tell her about the people that would never be welcomed to stay or the ones that were never even brought back for questioning. He didn't figure a kid her size had any business knowing about the unpleasant affairs of Woodbury—at least not if there wasn't a good reason to tell her. Besides, the less she knew, the better off she was. There was no chance of her letting it slip that she knew something the governor might not like that she knew.
"Found four women," Merle said.
"Just women?" Sophia asked.
"Just women," Merle said.
"One of the women wasn't my Mama?" Sophia asked.
Merle frowned and shook his head.
"Sorry, Soph," Merle said. "These was just four women from a bigger group. They was all that was left. Walkers eat the rest of their group."
Sophia shuddered and Merle regretted having told her that. He followed her up the stairs toward their apartment.
"You don't gotta worry 'bout'cha Ma, Soph," Merle offered, hoping to soothe things over a little. "Daryl's got her. She's alright. Promise you that. My lil' brother ain't gonna let no harm come to her."
"When are you going to find her?" Sophia asked. "And Daryl?"
"Don't know that shit no more today than I knowed it yesterday," Merle responded. "I'ma just keep lookin'. I'll find 'em, though."
"And until then," Sophia said, "you'll keep finding people like the four women?"
"That's the idea," Merle responded.
"Are they nice?" Sophia asked. "The women you found?"
"Tired," Merle said. "Hungry. But I suppose they nice enough. You'll prob'ly see 'em tomorrow. They's one of 'em can't hear nothin'."
"Nothing?" Sophia asked.
"Not a thing," Merle said.
"Can she talk?" Sophia asked.
Merle laughed to himself.
"She does alright," Merle said. "She can see you talkin' and follow along."
"How?" Sophia asked.
"With her eyes, I reckon, Soph," Merle said. "Why the hell you ask me some shit like that? You think I know?"
"Can I ask her?" Sophia asked.
Merle laughed to himself.
"I reckon you can," Merle said. "But not tonight. Miss Corinne give you somethin' to eat?"
"No," Sophia said. "I mean—I had lunch, but I didn't have dinner. They're having spaghetti tonight, Merle. The good kind."
Merle laughed to himself and opened the door to their apartment, pushing Sophia inside in front of him.
"Let's leave your books here," Merle said. "We'll go get somethin' to eat. I could eat a fuckin' rhinoceros."
Sophia laughed.
"That could be pretty tough, Merle," Sophia said.
"Yeah—well, so can I. Come on...when we get back you can show me your stories," Merle said.
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"Like this...OK? You see?" Sadie asked.
She repeated the gesture that she'd made with her hand and Sophia copied it carefully. Sophia repeated the gesture two more times and then waved to get Sadie's attention. As soon as she had it, she repeated the gesture and Sadie let out the delighted squeal that she used every time Sophia mastered another sign and clapped her hands together.
"Good!" Sadie declared, signing as she spoke to the girl. "So good! What about—can you ask me...where I live?"
Sophia nodded her head enthusiastically and licked her bottom lip while she thought about it a moment. Apparently settling on the movements she needed to make, Sophia moved her hands and Sadie applauded her efforts once more.
Merle had been watching them for at least ten minutes. Sadie had been doing this with Sophia since she'd gotten there almost a week before.
Merle didn't know if it was considered rude or not, mostly because he wasn't one to study too much on what was socially acceptable, but Sophia had asked Sadie immediately upon meeting her how it was that she could understand what someone was saying without them speaking to her. Sadie had given the girl a "lesson" of sorts on reading lips and then Sophia had been so thrilled with the idea that she'd plugged her ears up with cotton that night and made Merle talk to her while she repeated what he said and did her best not to cheat by listening to his muffled words.
So when Sadie told Sophia that she had a super-secret language that she understood even better than the one that Sophia was desperately trying to learn for herself, Sophia had begged Merle to let the woman teach her.
Sadie had promised that she didn't mind, either, taking a little time with the girl after her lessons were done. So Merle found them this way, every day, after Sophia finished at school.
And Merle didn't mind it either because it gave him a chance to at least get a good look at the woman and to admire the smile that she almost always seemed to be wearing.
When Merle gave up his cover and Sophia finally saw him, she waved enthusiastically at him and called out to him. Sadie looked over her shoulder and smiled at Merle as he approached. Then she turned around and signed something to Sophia while she mumbled the words. Sophia watched her with her brow furrowed and Sadie apparently repeated what she'd said. Sophia grinned when she understood it and stood up, darting away without a word to anyone. It was only then that Sadie stood up from the bench they'd been sitting on and approached Merle.
"What'd you do with Soph?" Merle asked, laughing to himself.
"She's going to get ice cream," Sadie said. "For us."
"For you an' me?" Merle asked.
"All of us," Sadie said. "They made some. Today. I helped. You aren't allergic to strawberries?"
"No," Merle said. "Not that I know of. Listen—if she's botherin' you? You just tell me."
Sadie shook her head.
"Oh no," she said. "She doesn't bother me. I didn't think I would see children again. Not after—not after I lost mine." She shrugged her shoulders. "I like it. I like—spending time with her."
Merle's stomach churned.
"You lost yours, huh?" Merle asked.
Sadie nodded. She held her hand up, fingers spread out, and it took Merle a moment to figure out that she was trying to show him all of her fingers. She wiggled them at him.
"All of them," Sadie said.
"All what?" Merle asked. "Children?"
Sadie nodded.
"You had five kids?" Merle asked.
Sadie laughed to herself and nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm used to that. Everyone—they said—you have five kids?"
Merle laughed at the expression she made to go along with the statement.
"I'm sorry," Merle said.
"Me too," Sadie said, her smile fading a little.
"You wanted that many?" Merle asked.
"More," Sadie said. She shrugged her shoulders. "I like children."
Merle licked his lips. He wished he could do something to take back the conversation. He liked knowing a little bit about the woman—more than the pieces she'd given him when he'd questioned her before bringing her to Woodbury—but he didn't like the way her smile wasn't as sincere as it had been before. She wasn't bawling her eyes out, but it was clear she was sad about losing her kids. She'd probably been a good Ma to all of them. He didn't know how to fix the sadness, though. In general, Merle didn't know what you really said to a woman like that.
Merle had never talked to somebody quite like Sadie.
"You do alright with shootin'," Merle said, surprising himself that he'd chosen that particular compliment to lead with when he'd been searching for something to say to bring the smile back to Sadie's face. He could've kicked himself in the nuts. He normally felt like he did OK talking to women. He'd certainly had his fair share of women before. But they were different and the way he talked to them was different. He didn't feel quite like he wanted to say the same things to Sadie that he said to the women he'd been trying to pick up before. He wanted to say different things to her. The problem was that, apparently, his brain was growing rusty from the lack of women in his presence and he was forgetting how to say anything. Sadie looked at him confused. She had every right to look at him that way. "Fuckin' sorry," Merle said. "I meant—yesterday. You was up on the wall."
Sadie nodded. She smiled then and nodded a little more enthusiastically. She gestured toward the wall.
"Shooting! The Dead!" She said.
Merle nodded.
"You done good," Merle said. "Shootin' 'em. I seen you hittin' what'cha was aimin' at. You ain't so bad at it. I mean—you—with your ears? Don't slow you down. You better'n I expected."
Sadie made a face at him, but her smile didn't fade.
"My ears don't have anything to do with my shooting," Sadie said.
Merle could've kicked himself in the nuts again. He wasn't sure what the hell was happening, but he'd lost it. Everything he'd ever had when it came to dealing with women, he'd lost it.
"Fuckin' hell," Merle grumbled.
Sadie laughed.
"I'm better at shooting than you expected," Sadie said. Merle looked at her. He was afraid to speak, so he simply stared at her. She liked silence. Maybe she'd appreciate it over his idiotic ass comments. Sadie shrugged her shoulders and pointed at him. "And you—you're worse at flirting than I expected."
Merle couldn't help but laugh to himself.
"I don't know what the hell's wrong with me," Merle admitted. "I'm usually a lot better'n this. Gimme another damn try. It's been all this—hangin' out with Soph ever' damn day."
Sadie nodded her head.
"I don't mind," she said. "And—I'd like to give you another try. I'd love to have you for dinner."
Merle smirked at her.
"An' I wouldn't mind havin' you for dessert," Merle growled.
Immediately he heard it when it came out and he wondered if she'd run in the other direction. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd miss it altogether. Maybe she'd think he literally meant that as an invitation for dessert.
The smile on her face, though, changed to say that she understood him entirely and, surprisingly enough, she wasn't offended.
"Better," she said. "Much better. But—dinner first. You and Sophia." She shrugged her shoulders. "Then—who knows?"