You Be Fred and I'll Be Daphne

Reality resumed and washed over Beth like a tsunami.

She blinked, frozen and unable to take a breath for several long seconds. The scene she'd just been enveloped in faded away like an old filmstrip skipping through a projector. She blinked again and everything went back to normal, as if it had never changed in the first place.

She was inside the swamp house once more. She was sitting across from Morgan and next to Daryl. There was a warm crystal ball beneath her palm. Merle was perched in the seat between Morgan and Daryl. Everything was returned to its rightful place.

She was present in the mortal plane, where she belonged.

And the image she'd just witnessed, the scene that she'd sat back and watched while petrified… she knew now that it was a result of the crystal ball. But more importantly, she knew that it was a result of Merle.

The air returned to her body and she took a deep breath, reflexively glancing over at Daryl as she pulled her hand back. He did the same, though the expression on his face was much more prevalent. He was visibly sickened, his face pale and drained. Like he'd just seen a ghost.

Or, more accurately, a demon.

"Well… that explains a lot," Morgan said, leaning back in his chair to gaze at Beth and Daryl with a new and slightly awkward understanding.

"This is bullshit!" Merle cried, jerking his hand back and standing to his feet abruptly. He pointed a finger at Morgan in accusation. "You fuckin' tricked me! Puttin' my goddamn personal memories out there like that, like-like some kinda fuckin' movie! I never agreed to that shit! Not one a y'all's got any business seein' what I fuckin' saw after I died."

But Daryl couldn't hear him. The living Dixon was shoving his own chair back away from the table, nearly knocking it over entirely. His face was getting paler, if that was possible. He clutched at his stomach, shaking his head and pursing his lips.

"What - Daryl, are you okay?" Beth asked, standing up and reaching out for him.

He backed away and shot an accusatory glance in Morgan's direction, then spun around and rushed out the backdoor. He clutched his stomach the whole way, doubled over like he was about to be sick. The door slammed shut behind him.

Beth turned on Merle with fire in her eyes. "I knew you were selfish, but this - this a whole new low. Even for you."

Before he could defend himself, she was spinning on her heel and hurrying out the door after Daryl. She found him on the porch, leaning over the railing and vomiting loudly into the murky water below. She could see how pale and shaky he was from a few feet away and she didn't dare step any closer, trying to give him plenty of breathing room.

"If I'd had any idea," she started, hesitantly reaching out to place a soothing hand on his back but deciding against it when he began heaving again.

She clasped her hands tightly in front of her instead, wringing them nervously. She wasn't even sure where she'd been going with that sentence. What was she supposed to say to him right now? Because 'sorry' didn't feel like nearly enough. She knew it wasn't all her fault, but it certainly felt like it was. If she hadn't dragged him into this, he would've been none the wiser. He could've gone on living his normal life, happily unaware that demons were real or that his soul was in danger.

Luckily, Morgan appeared at that moment. He stepped out onto the porch with them, studying Daryl with a frown. He exchanged a look with Beth and they silently agreed that this was probably the best possible reaction Daryl could be having right now. In all actuality, Beth had expected him to leap out of his chair and start fighting, not throwing up.

Then again… how would she react if she'd just found out that her brother wagered her soul to a demon for a pack of cigarettes? Probably a lot like this, she reckoned.

"Have you eaten today?" Morgan directed his question at Daryl's back.

Daryl spit out into the water and raised his head, roughly wiping the back of his hand across his nose and mouth. "Yeah." He pointed downward. "There's the biscuits an' gravy I had this mornin' - right there."

Morgan shook his head and said, "Breakfast was hours ago. No lunch? Y'all shouldn't have come out here on empty stomachs."

"I got some snacks in the truck," Beth offered. "I picked 'em up at the last gas station we stopped at."

"No, no. Y'all need ta eat real food," Morgan dismissed her suggestion. "I'll heat up some soup."

Daryl finally turned around, leaning back against the railing with weak legs. His face was whiter than Beth had ever seen it and he couldn't seem to lift his eyes from the ground. "That's real kind of you, but the las' thing I can think about doin' right now is eating. I can't... " His voice trailed off and he sighed, running a hand through his hair to push it off his perspiring forehead.

"I know it's a lot to take in, especially all at once like this. I wish it could all be under better circumstances, but that's never how these things work," Morgan said, glancing to Beth and raising his eyebrows. "It's a bit traumatizing. But you'll get used to it - both of you. Trust me. It might seem a little…"

"Hopeless?" Daryl finished for him.

But Morgan quickly shook his head. "Not at all. This situation is anything but hopeless, Daryl."

"Oh yeah?" Daryl lifted his gaze and met Morgan's with narrowed eyes. "Easy ta say when yer soul ain't been sold to a demon."

"Papa Legba is tricky, but he's also binded by the deals he makes," Morgan explained patiently. "He demands two souls - yours is expected by default, but that can be changed. There are plenty of ways to fulfill Merle's end of the bargain without damning your soul to Hell."

"This must've been what Merle meant," Beth said.

Daryl and Morgan both looked at her quizzically.

She quickly went on, "Earlier - when he made me promise to help him 'no matter what I found out.' It's no wonder he was so spooked. He knew this would have to happen. He knew he'd have to fess up eventually an' admit to what he did if he wants any chance of saving Daryl's soul."

"Save it? He already fuckin' sold it!" Daryl growled.

"Yeah, but he didn't just make me promise to help him," she said, growing a bit defensive but trying to speak to him as calmly as possible. "He practically begged me not to give up on you guys. Not to give up on you specifically, Daryl."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced.

Beth sighed and hoped she wouldn't regret voicing her next thought aloud: "I - I hate to say it and risk soundin' like I'm defending his terrible choices, but… I don't think Merle meant to sell your soul. It looked like an accident."

"Oh, fuck you!" Daryl spat, straightening up and jabbing an accusatory finger at her. "Defending 'im? Yer tryin' ta justify him! I saw the same goddamn thing you saw an' he flat-out sold my fuckin' soul ta some demon he ain't ever heard of before - and fer what? A nicer place in Hell? A pack of fucking smokes?!"

She reeled, taking a step back and letting him sling his anger toward her. She knew she shouldn't have dared sympathize with Merle aloud nor attempt at defending him. But she couldn't help it. Yeah, he was the biggest asshole she'd ever met… but he was also stupid. Really stupid. Stupid enough to jump into a deal without realizing exactly what the stakes were.

And when it came to Daryl, she couldn't see a single ounce of malice in Merle. He loved his brother. Hell, his brother was probably the only person he loved. Merle had clearly been terrified to learn that he'd wagered Daryl's pending eternity in the mix of everything else.

He thought he was selling his own soul, she thought sadly. How was he supposed to know that his brother's was part of a package deal?

"I hate to say she's right. But," Morgan intervened, giving Daryl a look of disappointment. "She's kinda right. Merle had no idea your soul was on the line when he initially agreed to the terms."

Daryl's anger flared and he fired back at both of them, "That fuckin' guy said it himself - Merle shoulda known! But he turned a blind eye to it, jus' like he turned a blind eye ta every fuckin' thing that ever meant shit in his life. An' even after he already made one deal he couldn't get out of, he went on ta make another deal. Fer no goddamn reason 'cept he's greedy!"

Morgan put up a hand to stop him.

"C'mon now, Daryl," he said. "You and I both know how stupid your brother is. Do you really believe that he would've put your eternal soul on the line like that? His own, sure. He was downright eager to offer his soul to the first bidder. But as I said, Papa Legba is tricky. And Merle is definitely not the sharpest tool."

"You know I can fuckin' hear you, right?" Merle appeared beside the backdoor, leaning against the outer wall of the cabin with his arms crossed over his chest. "If I was so goddamn stupid, I wouldn't have been able ta swindle that dumbass Legba guy into another deal. Shit, he wouldn't have even told me as much as he did if I hadn't sweet-talked his sorry ass. Y'all forgettin' that part? How convenient."

But his usual smug expression was gone, replaced by something that resembled uncertainty and fear. And his voice reflected the same, though he was trying to cover it up with his usual smartass tone.

"I think it may be best if you stay outta this for the moment," Morgan told him firmly.

"He follow me out here?" Daryl asked, glancing toward the direction that Morgan was speaking. "Fuckin' stupid prick - I hope yer happy, asshole! If you came back ta life right now, I'd fucking kill you all over again!"

"I'd like ta see you try," Merle sneered. But his mask was slipping; the disappointment and sadness was prevalent in his expression, dimming his eyes and dulling his voice.

"This is what you were afraid of, huh?" Beth asked him.

He flicked his icy blue gaze over to meet hers and glared. "I ain't afraid a nothin'. Never was when I was alive, why would I be now that I'm dead?"

"Because you know what's waiting for you if you fail," she said matter-of-factly. "And you know there's no weaslin' yer way out of it this time. And you know that Daryl will be the one ta suffer. That's what you were afraid of the whole time, wasn't it? That's why you were so worried I might refuse to help you. 'Cause all you ever cared about is Daryl, and the real Hell would be knowing that you sent his soul somewhere it doesn't belong."

Merle glanced away. "You jus' got it all figured out don'tcha, blondie? Li'l Miss Nancy Drew over here. Shit, I was so sure I had it all figured out, too. Now look at me…"

He shook his head and chuckled, but he wasn't smiling and there was no hint of humor within the sound. "Ignorance really is bliss."

Then he disappeared.

"Those who believe they lack a soul will sell it to the first bidder. And they will pay the interest at the cost of pure hearts like yours."

That's what Lady Jadis had said. It echoed in Beth's head ominously, filling her with a sense of dread she couldn't seem to shake off. It made so much damn sense now, she kept asking herself how she hadn't figured it out before.

She kept asking herself how she could've underestimated Merle so disastrously. How she hadn't realized just how serious the situation was - just how much was at stake.

Sure, Morgan said she had a choice. He said she always had a choice. She could walk away. If she really wanted to. She had a Gift but that didn't mean she had to use it. It wasn't her soul that was in perilous danger, after all.

But Daryl needed help. He needed her help. She couldn't turn her back on him. She'd given Merle her word. And not that it mattered so much with Merle, but in a way, it felt like she'd given Daryl her word as well. He might be stubborn and he might be awfully rough around the edges, but she could tell that he was good. He was a good man with good intentions and he didn't deserve to go to Hell just because he'd gotten stuck with a selfish asshole for a brother.

Not to mention, Morgan had seen her helping him in his visions. And Rick helping them. She and Daryl's souls were intertwined - not in the most ideal of ways, but they were certainly intertwined all the same. So in a way, it was kinda meant to be… Right?

If she had to tell herself that, then she would. But she wasn't about to back out now that she knew exactly what was at stake. She couldn't care less where Merle's soul ended up, but she could never live with herself knowing she'd had the chance to keep someone like Daryl out of Hell and had done nothing.

Would it be her own pure heart that ended up paying the price, like Jadis had foreshadowed? Was she willing to take that risk?

Yes, she decided. Yes, she was. A great risk meant a great reward.

Not that she was in this for anything of her own. Never having to hear Merle's voice again would be reward enough. Prying Daryl's soul from Papa Legba's merciless grasp would simply be a bonus.

"Your ignorance has already been proven to be your greatest weakness, Merle," Morgan said. "That, and your pride. But if you'd paid any attention, listened to anyone with beliefs beyond your own, you would've known that Papa Legba is not to be trusted, nor is he someone to be bargained with. He is revered across the world for his merciless wagers, his name is spoken only upon death beds, whispered out in final breaths. He has a macabre sense of humor and he thrives on loopholes. And his deals come at a great price, most often too great for the likes of you to pay. He rarely asks for a simple payment and he never makes a deal that he knows he won't win. Not a single soul has been able to outwit him in all these centuries."

"How the fuck you gonna expect some white trailer trash like me ta know about a Voodoo demon?" Merle argued, scoffing. "I didn't even have cable fer most a my life. Never left Georgia 'less it was ta make money. I don't fuckin' keep up on all that Negro lore - never needed to."

"That dumbass was always makin' deals with loan sharks, I'ono why I'm even surprised," Daryl grumbled.

Merle was pacing in front of the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest as he continuously shook his head and mumbled under his breath. Beth, Morgan, and Daryl were sitting in their seats around the circular table, cradling warm bowls of soup in their laps and eating.

The reheated soup Morgan had served was something strange that Beth had never tasted or seen before, but it was delicious. Daryl was scarfing his down like he hadn't eaten in days while she brought tentative spoonfuls up to her lips. Her stomach was still largely unsettled, twisting and churning as everything they'd learned soaked deeper into her mind. She was struggling to make sense of it all, to accept that it was real. But she had no choice. It was very real. And she couldn't exactly track down murderers and fulfill demon deals without food, so she forced herself to eat. She didn't want to end up barfing over the side of the porch like Daryl either.

"There's no point in gettin' stuck on all the what-if's now," she interjected, keeping her eyes on her bowl of soup. "We just have to move forward an' figure out how to fix this whole mess. Papa Legba said he wants another soul, but he also said it doesn't have ta be Daryl's. So…"

"So what?" Daryl asked.

She flicked her gaze up to meet his and found Morgan staring across the table at her as well, eyebrows raised with intrigue.

"So we can fill the spot with another soul." He took the words right out of her mouth.

She quickly nodded in agreement.

"Like whose?" Daryl asked, eyes narrowing and glancing back and forth between Morgan and Beth.

"Whoever fuckin' killed me, how 'bout that?" Merle chimed in, his tone heavily laced with spite.

"Yeah, actually," Beth said, shooting Merle a pointed look. "Who better? Obviously they deserve ta be in Hell, whoever they are."

"Huh?" Daryl looked confused.

"Whoever may have murdered Merle," Morgan clarified. "Maybe their soul can be used as compensation to Papa Legba."

"So we're just accepting it as fact now?" Daryl asked, frowning. "Y'all are convinced he was murdered?"

"No shit! It's fact - you saw it, right?!" Merle cried, gesturing to Morgan expectantly.

Morgan shrugged. "I didn't see the actual murder, no. But it's a large possibility. I don't think Rick Grimes would be involved if there weren't something more to be investigated. Either way, it's not a possibility that either of you can afford to dismiss."

Either of you, the words rang in Beth's ears.

She and Daryl were a team now. Their fates were intertwined. She could hear it in the finality of Morgan's tone. She could feel it in her bones. Whatever happened to Daryl would fall back on her. She'd already signed up for it. There was no stepping back anymore. They'd come too far, learned too much. He knew all of her darkest secrets and she was pretty sure she knew most of his. They were connected in a way that she couldn't have expected, let alone prepared for. But how far would she have to go to help him?

How far was she willing to go?

I've already been stepping over to the Other Side for most of my life, she thought to herself. What's a few more trips?

"Y'ain't got no more you can show us in that magic crystal ball of yours?" Daryl asked half-mockingly, pointing to the crystal ball that sat atop the center of the table.

Morgan shrugged, swallowing a spoonful of soup before replying, "Maybe. It's worth a shot - if yer gonna be willing ta listen to whatever I tell you, that is."

Beth interjected before Daryl could quip back with something sarcastic. "Of course we'll listen," she said. "Can you see more in that thing? Like… stuff that could help us? The future or somethin'?"

Morgan smirked and gazed down at the bowl in his lap, lifting another spoonful to his lips leisurely and swallowing before he replied, "There is one thing that Papa Legba and I have in common."

"Yer both black demons?" Merle quipped, chortling at his own poor joke.

Morgan ignored him and finished, "Loopholes."

"Loopholes?" Daryl repeated, staring across the table with an empty bowl in his lap.

Morgan nodded. "Papa Legba has his ways - one of them being that he doesn't disclose the stipulations of his deals before solidifying them. And well, I have something that challenges that. He doesn't like it much, but I can't say I've ever cared. My Gifts offer me a sight beyond Lucifer's own power from time to time. It's not perfect, but it's better than going in blind."

"So what can you see?" Beth asked, her spoon pinched numbly between her fingers.

Morgan shrugged, pausing and bringing his bowl up to his lips to drain the last of the soup. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and replied, "Whatever I'm allowed to see. It'll be up to you to make sense of it."

She glanced over to Daryl and found him already looking at her, an expression of uncertainty shadowing his features. The color had returned to his face but just barely. He seemed to grow paler and paler at every new piece of information Morgan presented. She raised her eyebrows, silently communicating with the living Dixon.

You think we should? He asked her wordlessly. And she nodded, pressing her lips together tightly.

I think we have to, she told him with a look.

He jerked his chin in a gesture of understanding and turned his attention back to Morgan. "Guess you can jus' call us the goddamn Scooby-Doo Gang with all these fuckin' mysteries. What else d'you got for us, Mr. Swamp Witch?"

Beth and Daryl sat across the circular table from Morgan with bellies full of warm soup and expectant looks on their faces. Merle was keeping his mouth shut for once, though rightfully so, as he leaned against the wall behind Morgan and watched.

The crystal ball glowed atop the center of the table, but not from the early evening sun that leaked in through the water-stained windows. It seemed to emanate its own light and warmth, growing brighter whenever Morgan's open hands got closer. He spread his fingers and kept his palms hovered around the thick glass, and Beth couldn't help but think of all those stupid movies that depicted phony psychics gazing dramatically into their crystal balls in the same manner.

Except now, she wasn't amused by the image. She knew that Morgan was for real, and that the glass he gazed down into was showing him more than she could ever comprehend. It had already shown her more than she'd wanted to see. She didn't want to think about everything he could be seeing - she just wanted to know the important details so she could start figuring out how to save Daryl's soul from being cast into Hell for eternity.

Morgan was frowning, and the longer he gazed into the crystal ball, the deeper his frown grew. Beth and Daryl sat in tense silence, waiting patiently. They exchanged a glance every few seconds, assuring one another that they were both anxious and unsettled. It seemed to relax her just the slightest to know he was beside her.

And he'd scooted his chair closer, until their thighs were touching. Though she wasn't really paying attention to that.

"Everything is blurry," Morgan finally said, voice tinged with disappointment. "I can't make out a damn thing." He sighed in defeat.

"Is there something I can do ta help?" Beth volunteered, eager to move this whole thing along. "Or somethin' he can do?" She glanced pointedly at Merle, who shot her a scowl.

Morgan shook his head. "Unfortunately, Merle has helped us about as much as he can help us. I don't…"

But his voice trailed off and his eyes widened, still locked on the crystal ball before him. He leaned in closer, unblinking as though he'd just seen a shooting star or a really intriguing advertisement. Then a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he nodded, flicking his brown eyes up to meet Beth's.

"I see somethin' - blurry, but I recognize it." He pointed to the cross hanging around her neck. "Your necklace. I know you never take it off, but can I ask you to let me borrow it? Just for a moment?"

Beth leaned forward in her chair and, without hesitation, reached up and unclasped her necklace. She carefully handed it across the table while Daryl watched with narrowed eyes. Morgan took it from her, cradling the cross and chain in his open palms. Then he laid it across the top of the globe-shaped glass.

The crystal ball glowed brighter. The light began pulsating to the rhythm of an unseen heartbeat. Beth's breath caught in her throat and she could see Daryl's jaw dropping from the corner of her eye.

Morgan's tentative smile turned into a grin and his eyes widened once more as he leaned in closer, gazing into the crystalline glass with wonder and intrigue. A few seconds later, he clucked his tongue.

And a few seconds after that, he was raising his head and staring over the top of the glowing crystal ball at Beth with glassy eyes.

"Wee Beth, the child born twice," he muttered, his tone vastly different than before. Lighter, almost wistful. And higher pitched, as though he were imitating a woman. "You've grown just as beautiful as I saw. Aye, and just as powerful. Now listen, child: your blood holds secrets, and someone close to you has the answers to your oldest and most difficult questions. Look into your heart and into your home, lass. There is a bond beyond worlds residing within you and another you love."

A chill ran through Beth's spine, goosebumps forming up and down her arms and legs. Her stomach twisted painfully and she opened her mouth to say something - anything. But nothing came out.

Then Morgan blinked and shook his head and when he looked at her again, his eyes were no longer glassy. He gave her a confused half-smile and glanced down at the crystal ball, blinking a few more times as though to clear his vision.

"What does that mean?" She finally asked, her voice weak and breathy.

"I don't know," Morgan replied simply, refusing to meet her gaze and focusing his vision on the crystal ball. "Someone spoke through me and I really hate when that happens because it's very violating, but… if what they said sounded familiar or important, then that means you should heed the advice."

Beth swallowed hard and glanced over at Daryl and Merle, both of whom were staring at Morgan with equally perplexed looks on their faces. Daryl appeared a bit more disturbed, though. Which is how Beth felt, although she wasn't sure she could properly express it just yet. She was still trying to process what she'd just heard. And what the hell it could mean.

But before her mind could begin racing with possibilities, Morgan was smiling again. The crystal ball seemed to be showing him something he'd been looking for.

"Yes," he muttered. "Here we go… They're short glimpses, but they're clear." His smile faded and his brows slowly knit together as he watched.

Daryl cleared his throat and Beth looked over at him. He met her eyes and silently asked, You sure?

She nodded.

It was no longer a question of, can we actually believe this guy. Now it was just a question of, are we sure we can handle what he might be about to tell us? And though Beth wasn't sure she could handle it, she knew she'd have to.

She was plenty confident in herself, but having Daryl's help made her feel a lot more confident. Maybe he wasn't the worst person to be stuck with in this after all.

to be continued...