They were a quarter of a mile from the town when Merle glanced into the back seat as they approached the entrance gate to Woodbury. He had tossed his jacket, a sweatshirt, two rolls of toilet paper and a few old magazines (including four issues of 'Big Bodacious Boobs', two issues of 'Juggs' and two issues of 'Hustler') on top of the sheet covering Daryl so it would look like he had a pile of clothing or supplies under the sheet and not a person. "You awake back there?" he asked.
"No." Daryl's muffled voice replied.
"Good, 'cause if you're sleeping you'll keep your mouth shut and you won't move while I'm checking in at the gate." Merle continued, "Course, you ain't always quiet when you're sleepin'. I've heard you honk off some damned loud farts while you were under Queen Mab's spell."
Daryl groaned. On some subjects Merle was like an ornery dog with a bone. He just wouldn't let go of it. This was one of those subjects and Daryl was sure that Merle would continue to bring it up on occasion for as long as they both lived.
"That night at the quarry after you ate them three cans of baked beans I thought we were under attack or someone was lightin' firecrackers." Merle grinned at the memory. "You best not be doin' that when we get up to the gate."
"Wasn't so bad as you say." Daryl grumbled from beneath the sheet.
The gate was already opening to admit his truck as Merle drove up to it. Ken was talking to a young woman who was new to the group and he glanced up as Merle drove by and then went back to his conversation.
Merle drove straight to his house and hit the button on the remote garage door opener when he reached the bottom of the driveway. He drove into the two car garage attached to his little white house and hit the button again to close the big overhead door. He looked over his shoulder into the back seat and said, "We're here. Now you just sit tight for a second, okay? I'll be right back."
Daryl didn't answer and Merle took that as an "okay".
Merle entered the house through the door that opened from the garage into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and listened. He could hear the sound of the clock ticking on the kitchen wall and that was all. "Anyone here?" he called out into the silence. No one answered him. Glenn and the girl must still be walking around town and checking things out. Perfect.
Merle stepped back into the garage and opened the truck's right rear cab door. He reached in and pulled the magazines, sweat shirt, toilet paper and his jacket off Daryl and then whipped the sheet off him. "Hey, you awake?"
Daryl didn't answer so Merle reached down and grabbed his right ankle with his hand.
Daryl's body jerked and he yelped in a combination of pain and surprise. For a second he thought he was back in the ravine and a walker was chewing on his boot again. "Fuck," he gasped as he slowly sat up and swung his legs off the seat. "Asshole hit me there with a hammer. Don't be touchin' it. Fuckin' hurts."
"Morey? Morey took a fuckin' hammer to you?" Merle's body stiffened and he clenched his fist. He felt his face getting hot as he was hit with a wave of anger so intense and overwhelming that he wouldn't have been surprised if his head exploded. "I'm gonna kill that miserable bastard!" Merle roared.
"Would you cut out the fuckin' yelling before you make my damned ears bleed? It wan't him," Daryl said. "This guy was taller, said somethin' about bein' the mayor or some high monkey-monk around here." He slid towards the open door and Merle moved out of his way.
Merle remembered what the governor had told him about being unable to get the prisoner to speak. "Did he hit you anywhere else with it?" Merle asked as he started to get his anger under control.
"Naw," Daryl said as he slid off the seat and stood leaning against the truck, bearing his weight on his left leg. "He threatened to break my kneecaps, but I guess he figured he'd leave that to the 'torture master' he said was comin' in to talk to me. Guess that'd be you." He cautiously placed his right foot on the ground and shifted some weight on to it. "Shit," he hissed.
Merle moved next to Daryl and reached out his left hand to help his brother. Daryl ducked away from Merle instinctively and Merle scowled. Daryl had never liked being touched by anyone and only seemed to tolerate it when Merle touched him. Merle's scowl turned into a frown. He'd forgotten how much it bothered him to see Daryl flinch and move away from his touch. "Come on, let me help you." Merle said.
"Don't need no help," Daryl growled as he stumbled backward and leaned against Merle's truck again.
"Stop bein' a stubborn jackass and let me help you to get inside afore you fall flat on your stupid boney ass," Merle took another step toward Daryl and reached out and wrapped his left arm around his brother's waist. He smiled to himself when Daryl leaned into him and he helped his brother hobble to the door. "Cripes, you stink." Merle teased.
"Stop sayin' that."
Daryl looked around as they entered the kitchen from the garage. He was surprised to find that the kitchen was spotless. The counters and the floors were clean and the coffee pot, blender and toaster were covered with quilted floral appliance covers and were tucked back against the wall behind the counter. Maybe he was hallucinating. His head ache had intensified and now he started hearing a ringing in his ears. He was suddenly dizzier than he had been all day. He felt Merle tighten his grip on him as he swayed on his feet.
"We gotta sit you down." Merle said.
"I'm fine," Daryl grumbled as he tried to pull away from Merle. His right leg buckled beneath him, but Merle had an iron grip on him and he pulled Daryl back against his chest before he could fall.
Merle was about to light into Daryl about being a dumb ass for trying to stand on his own when He saw Daryl look up at him with something that looked a bit like a smirk on his face. "This ain't…this ain't your house, is it?" Daryl asked.
Merle noticed that Daryl's eyes had locked on to his face for just for a few seconds before his eyes started wandering again.
"Of course it's mine. What, you don't think I'd keep my house lookin' nice and presentable?"
Merle had always been a slob, and Daryl dropped his head again and mumbled, "No. No, I don't."
Merle pulled Daryl towards the bathroom. "Well, little brother, that just hurts ol' Merle's feelings. Now come on, Pepi Le Pew, let's get you washed up. You ain't crawlin' into the clean bed in the guest room all filthy and smelly."
Daryl didn't feel up to arguing and he tightened his grip on Merle. As they entered the bathroom he was hit with a wave of dizziness and everything started to fade to black. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the toilet seat and opening his eyes. Merle was crouched down in front of him and his worried face was only inches from Daryl's. "I'm okay," he said before Merle could say anything.
Merle stayed crouched in front of him. "No. No you ain't. Don't you be fibbin' to me, boy. You've had a hell of a day and i know you feel like shit. We'll get the dirt and the blood and the stink offa you and then I'll patch you up and you can get some rest. Okay?"
Daryl nodded.
Merle sighed. "An' I'm sorry, but there's somethin' I gotta do first. Now close your eyes and hold your head still."
Daryl knew what Merle was going to do and he closed his eyes and waited for him to do it. Damn, he hated this. He felt Merle's rough fingers as they slid down the sides of his nose, then a loud 'snap' broke the silence as Merle re-aligned Daryl's broken nose.
"Thanks... I guess." Daryl mumbled.
"Anytime." Merle replied. He reached down and he started to untie Daryl's boots with his one hand and Daryl snorted.
"Don't do that. I can…"
"Look, you just sit tight. I ain't doin' this for you, I'm doin' it for me. I don't want you fallin' on you're fuckin' head and bleedin' all over my clean bathroom floor."
Daryl leaned back until his back bumped up against the cool porcelain of the toilet tank.
"You want to be useful?" Merle asked as he untied the other boot. "Unbutton your shirt. I could do it, but I'm slow as fuck with damned buttons."
Daryl slowly slid his winged leather vest off his shoulders and then moved his hands to the buttons on his shirt. He had noticed that Merle was wearing a wife-beater undershirt with an unbuttoned dark blue shirt over it. He had never seen Merle wear a shirt unbuttoned like that but now it made perfect sense.
Merle pulled Daryl's right boot off and then leaned back and sat on his ass with a 'thunk'. "Whooo hoo! What a stink!" he exclaimed as he waved his left hand in front of his nose. "I bet if I looked close enough, I could see little stink waves."
"Told you I could take 'em off." Daryl said defensively..
"Well, shit, son, if I'd known your feet smelled that bad I woulda let you." Merle sat up and leaned forward. He pulled Daryl's left boot off and gleefully pretended to gag.
"Jackass." Daryl mumbled.
Merle smiled as he stood up and walked over to the bathtub. He really was being a jackass, but he was just having fun. It was so nice to have Daryl there with him after they'd been separated for so long. Merle had given up hope that they'd ever see each other again.
He turned on the faucet in the tub and adjusted the water temperature, then he reached up and unhooked the hand held shower head and let it hang down into the tub as he pulled up the tab that routed the water to the shower-head. He turned to see Daryl pulling his sleeveless undershirt off over his head and he saw the bloody stitched wound to the left of Daryl's navel. Daryl really was a mess, and Merle decided that he had already been a mess before any Woodbury thugs had gotten their hands or feet on him. The stitches in his forehead and on his left forearm certainly weren't from today and his face,neck and torso were covered with bruises in all sorts of colors indicating their differences in ages and the force used to create them. Some were a fading yellowish brown, some were purple, some blue black, some red. Some were small, some were large and they were everywhere. Then as Daryl fumbled with his belt buckle, Merle noticed something else.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, "You're missing a finger!"
"Am I?" Daryl asked and he slowly brought his shaky right hand up in front of his face. "Well, would ya look at that."
Merle smirked. " Stop bein' a smartass. What happened?"
Daryl sighed. "Long story." he said and started to stand.
Merle hurried over to help him. "I'll ask you about it when you're feelin' better. Now hold on to me and I'll help you get your pants off and we'll get you into the tub."
"Screw that." Daryl muttered."I ain't gettin' naked in front a you."
"Oh for Christ's sake, what's with this modesty crap?" Merle asked. "I'm your damned brother, not some sissy fag cruising the rest area bathrooms lookin' for some pretty little ass to plow."
Daryl didn't answer back and Merle rolled his eyes. He walked over to a wicker basket sitting on a small shelf by the vanity and pulled a clean and folded hand towel out of it. He walked back to where Daryl sat and held out the towel to him. "Here. I'll help you get your damned filthy pants off and you can hide your pussy with this, Darleena."
When Daryl took the towel from Merle without saying a word Merle noticed that Daryl's hand was shaking. Daryl only shook like that when he was in a lot of pain. He resolved to try to be a bit kinder to his younger brother. "Shit, that wasn't nice. I'm sorry." Merle said as he took a mini guilt trip. "Now are you gonna let me help you get out of those pants or not?" he asked calmly.
Daryl took a deep breath and gave Merle a nod.
Merle helped Daryl step out of the pair of boxers and the pants pooled around Daryl's feet and held his arm as he led him to the bathtub.
"I'm gonna help you sit down now." Merle said calmly. "Okay, see? There we go, now you got that towel where you want it?" The Dr. Jekyll in Merle suddenly appeared and took over for few seconds and Calm Understanding Merle disappeared. "You know, this is ridiculous! I've seen you naked a million times! Hell, I used to change your damned diapers!" So much for being kinder to his brother.
Daryl sighed. His head ache hadn't let up and he didn't feel up to arguing with Merle. Would it really do any good to tell Merle that he was misinterpreting his modesty and that he was embarrassed for anyone to see what a mess his body was? He felt ike he had stitches and cuts and scars and bruises everywhere. Merle would take one look at his chewed up body and declare him unable to take care of himself. He would have disappointed Merle yet again. The marks on his body were evidence that he was weak and pathetic. A pussy.
"I'm sorry." Merle said and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Shit, he was really fucking up this 'trying to be kinder' thing. "Here, let me wash your back and then I'll leave you be. Okay?"
Daryl nodded and leaned forward slightly as the warm water cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. He sucked in a breath as the water hit the fresh wounds on the back of his neck.
Merle released the shower head and it bumped against the walls of the bathtub as it dangled from the shower fixture. He gripped a bar of soap inside a washcloth and began washing Daryl's scarred back.
Daryl dropped his head and Merle winced when he saw the cluster of fresh cigarette burns on the back of Daryl's neck. Merle grabbed the shower head again and held it above Daryl's back, letting the warm water rinse the soap off his brother's skin. Merle watched as the soapy water running off Daryl raced to the drain and then swirled around and around before disappearing.
Merle noticed the patch of shaved hair and the newly formed scar on Daryl's head. He moved his eyes over the familiar jagged trails of raised scar tissue marking Daryl's back and he noticed the new roundish scar on the left side of Daryl's lower back that appeared to be from an exit wound. Merle surmised that sometime during the months they were separated, Daryl had been shot. He decided he'd ask his younger brother about that later, too.
Merle stepped out of the bathroom and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee so Daryl could have some privacy while he finished washing up. He waited until he had finished a cup before he went down the hall to the bathroom. Merle knocked on the door and then stepped into the room without bothering to wait for a response.
Daryl took a deep breath. "Why bother to knock if you're gonna burst right in before I say anythin'?"
"To give you fair warning that I'm gonna be burstin' right in." Merle answered.
"I'm done." Daryl said. "Am I clean enough now to be allowed to stay?"
"Yup. You smell like fancy schmancy hotel soap." Merle replied. "Now let's go find you a nice dress so you can go to the prince's high society ball tonight."
"Stop it." Daryl complained as he grabbed the edges of the tub. He accidentally pushed the cauterized base of his missing pinky against the edge of the tub and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any pussy whimpery noises in front of Merle.
Merle grabbed Daryl's upper arm and helped him stand. He grabbed a long hooded terry-cloth bathrobe hanging on a towel rack and draped it over Daryl's shoulders. Daryl wrapped it around him and his fingers trembled as he tied it at the waist. Daryl turned toward Merle and grasped Merle by the shoulder as he stepped out of the bathtub on to his left leg.
Merle could feel Daryl trembling as Daryl's hand gripped his shoulder. "You okay?" Merle asked.
"I'll be fine after I lie down for a bit." Daryl said. He held on to Merle's shoulder as Merle led him to the guest bedroom. The room was painted a calming robin's egg blue and the full-sized bed with its green and blue bed linens looked very inviting.
Merle let go of Daryl and pulled the sheet and the comforter down for him. "You climb on in there and I'm gonna bring you somethin' to make you feel better," he said.
Merle pulled a stack of towels out of the linen closet in the bathroom and reached into the back corner. He found what he was looking for and withdrew the paper bag from the cupboard and walked over to the sink. He dumped the bag's contents on the vanity next to the sink and started checking the labels on the brown pill bottles now scattered across the vanity's granite top. He found a bottle labeled 'Fentanyl' and put it in his pocket. He then a picked up the other bottles one by one and dropped them into the open paper bag.
Daryl took two of the pills Merle offered him without any questions. Merle had come back into the room bearing a glass of water in his only hand and had placed it on the nightstand next to the bed before fishing into his pocket for the bottle of pills. He handed the bottle to Daryl and instructed him to take two of them.
Merle took a closer look at Daryl's abdominal wound and the stitches in his forehead and his left lower arm.
Daryl's headache began to fade and he could feel his eyelids getting heavier as Merle examined him and questioned him about his injuries. Merle's voice got further and further away and soon Daryl couldn't hear it at all.
Maggie walked quickly up the walkway in front of Merle's house to the front door. She had some questions for Daryl's big brother.
Haley had returned to her apartment after about half an hour. She told Glenn and Maggie that she had been summoned by the governor because he had just obtained a crossbow and he wanted her to look it over and to set up an appointment for Haley to teach him how to use it.
Glenn and Maggie were standing next to each other behind the kitchen counter (they had just each poured themselves a glass of lemonade) as Haley relayed her story to them. Maggie had moved her foot over and stepped on Glenn's toe hard enough so that he wouldn't mistake her action for an accident, hoping he'd get the hint and not open his mouth. Haley had gone on to explain to them that the crossbow was a Horton Scout and whomever it had belonged to had taken very good care of it. Shooting a crossbow was quite a bit different than shooting a recurve or a compound bow, she told them, but she was excited to be able to help the governor learn to use his new weapon.
Maggie had appeared calm and collected on the outside while her mind was panicking and asking questions one after the other. A Horton Scout? Daryl's crossbow was a Horton Scout. The weapon had been well taken care of? Daryl took better care of his crossbow than Lori did of Carl, Maggie thought. Was it Daryl's crossbow? No, it couldn't be. Daryl didn't own the only Horton Scout in Georgia, right? It had to belong to someone else. It had to.
Haley then suggested that they stay inside where it was cool and play a video game or two.
Maggie had raised her eyes at this suggestion. Were there video games that three people could play together? She had no idea but she highly doubted it. "If y'all don't mind, I'm going to go back to Merle's house and see if he's gotten back." She smiled at Glenn and Haley. "We'll have to be leaving before too long. If you want, I can stop back over to get Glenn when its time for us to go."
Haley's face lit up and she smiled. "That's a great idea!" she exclaimed, then she looked at Glenn and added, "of course, that is if you want to stay for a while."
Glenn smiled at Maggie and winked at her. "Fine by me." he answered. "but Mags, do you think its safe to be around Merle by yourself?"
Haley laughed. "Merle's just a big pussy cat. She'll be plenty safe with him."
"Of course I will," Maggie said as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back later. Have fun you guys." she called over her shoulder as she left in a hurry.
Now Maggie swung the screen door open and turned the doorknob to let herself into Merle's house. It was locked and she rolled her eyes. Merle wasn't home yet. She walked around to the garage and opened the side door and stepped into the cool, dark cement floored home of Merle's truck. She went to the door to the kitchen and entered the room and looked around. It was quiet and empty. She peeked into the living room, no Merle there. She walked down the hall. The bathroom door was open and there was water on the floor. There were two doors on the right side of the hallway, the first one was Merle's room and the second one was a guest bedroom. The guest bedroom's door was closed and Maggie thought she heard someone moving around in the room. She approached the room and stood in front of it for a few seconds before she reached out, grasped the doorknob and turned it.
I'm sorry I was so pokey about posting. My life has been a roller-coaster ride lately. An out-of-control, careening-down-the-track-at-220-miles-per-hour and I'm-screaming-my-head-off roller-coaster ride.
Is everyone ready for TWD's season finale? I'm guessing Hershel, the Gov, Milton and Martinez will be among the dead along with a bunch of Woodbury residents. I'm also worried for Glenn and Maggie. It would be just like AMC to kill one of them off now that they're engaged. Just my guesses, I have no spoiler info nor do I want any! AMC = Dirty Stinkers