Thanks! I Hate It

Daryl appeared more annoyed than anything, like he'd just been told that the transmission on his favorite car had gone out. But Beth reckoned that once you knew your soul was in mortal peril, finding out your life might be in danger was no more than an inconvenience.

"So what does the money mean?" Beth asked, her quizzical gaze shooting over to Merle. "What money did you not know about?"

"What - what's he sayin'?" Daryl chimed in, looking back and forth between Beth and Morgan expectantly.

Morgan shrugged. "Nothing yet. We're trying to find out. The money was abstract in my visions - I couldn't explain it even if I wanted to."

Merle shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Ain't no matter. There ain't no money, don't worry about it - whatever money there was is all gone, can't be paid back. Whatcha need ta worry about is the guy that fucking killed me an' might be comin' after Daryl next."

Beth clenched her jaw and struggled to bite back an angry retort. She turned to Morgan, silently begging him to explain.

He just sighed. "I hate to add stipulations and make myself sound like some kind of… riddler," Morgan said, meeting Beth's expectant gaze. "But the visions I was allowed to see weren't necessarily shown in order. It's possible that some of them could even be meaningless."

Beth blinked, a bit taken aback. How was she supposed to pick out the important parts? Or piece the timeline together like some kind of jigsaw puzzle? How was she - and Daryl - supposed to know which trails to follow and which to abandon? But she didn't allow her doubt to show. She was already eternally grateful to Morgan for everything he'd done and all that he'd explained. It would've been rude to expect more.

Daryl, on the other hand, didn't seem quite so appreciative. He scoffed.

Morgan shot him a scolding look and explained, "You both must keep that in mind. I'm doing this to help you, but the help only goes so far. It's hard to understand, but that's just one of those loopholes I was tellin' you about: if I were given a comprehensive, step-by-step plan of the future, we would all know too much. The timeline would be skewed, the events wouldn't play out as they're meant to because you would be acting with too much foresight."

Merle rolled his eyes from behind Morgan and grumbled, "Go figure."

A split-second later, Daryl huffed out a frustrated breath and muttered, "Go figure."

But Beth ignored them both and nodded in understanding, eyes locked on Morgan. "That makes sense. You've already given us way more than we would've ever had to go off of if we hadn't come out here. I don't know how I can ever thank you."

She shot Daryl a pointed look and he scowled back before sitting up straight and giving Morgan a terse nod. "Yeah - thanks," he grunted, less than enthusiastic.

Morgan put a hand up and shook his head. "No need. I don't extend my hand with the intention of receiving anything in return. All I can do is reach out to those in need and hope that my little bit of help is able to put a few more souls where they belong."

"I'll put ya where you fuckin' belong, goddamn Voodoo bastard," Merle remarked.

"You're welcome, Merle," Morgan shot back sarcastically.

Merle scoffed. "Fer what? You didn't solve shit fer us, jus' gave us some bullshit puzzle ta solve like some kinda second-rate Batman villain. Ain't no better'an those crock fuckin' psychics."

"That's not true," Beth argued. "He gave us a guideline - we know what to expect now, we know where to start and who to look out for."

"Well it jus' sounds like more unnecessary work to me," Merle spat. "He saw all that, he shoulda been able ta jus' save us the fuckin' hassle an' tell us how to fix this. Y'all got all these Gifts, but not one of 'em lets ya detour through the bullshit."

"It doesn't work like that." Beth rolled her eyes and glared over Morgan's shoulder at Merle with detest. "Not like you would understand. The only Gift you ever had was the gift of being the biggest pain in the ass that ever existed."

Merle barked out a humorless laugh. "Oh yeah? Like yer really one ta talk, blondie."

Beth knew it was pointless to let herself be upset by Merle but she couldn't help it. After all she'd gone through over the last two days, she'd hoped for at least a shred of decency. Even from him. But she should've known better than to have such high expectations for someone like Merle Dixon. Her frustration quickly mounted and her voice rose in anger.

"You're the asshole who bargained your only brother's soul to a demon!" She shoved her chair back from the table and stood up without realizing it, tempted to leap across the table and strangle Merle - if only he weren't already dead. "None of us would be caught up in this shitstorm right now if it weren't for your stupid, selfish choices! You're the worst person I've ever met and you deserve to be in Hell!"

Merle stepped forward, glaring back at Beth with the same look of fury and abhorrence that she wore. He growled through his teeth, "Better watch that pretty li'l mouth a yers, sweetheart. Don't forget how fuckin' nice I've been ta you so far. That can change real goddamn quick if you keep pushin' me."

She nearly laughed in indignation. But Morgan quickly cut in, standing from his chair and putting himself between them with his hands up, motioning for them both to calm down. He fixed his calming stare on Beth and urged her to sit back down.

"There's no use arguing with a ghost," he told her firmly. "This is no longer about him. You are choosing to help him - and Daryl. He may be an insufferable asshole, but you are the one in power here, Beth."

Merle laughed coldly and stepped back to lean against the wall once more, arms crossed over his chest. "Fer now. Till she pisses me off enough an' I give 'er precious daddy a fuckin' heart attack."

Beth glared at Merle and hissed out through clenched teeth, "You wouldn't dare."

Merle winked at her tauntingly. "Try me."

Her blood pressure skyrocketed.

"Enough!" Morgan declared, his voice deep and booming through the small cabin. Beth's eyes snapped over to his. Her anger evaporated immediately and even Merle's smug smirk disappeared.

She was about to apologize but then he was looking at her sternly and speaking. "I have something that can make this easier. I wasn't sure if I should give you the option, but now I see… it's only right. For the sake of your family - and your sanity."

"And mine," Daryl growled from his seat.

Beth awkwardly lowered herself back down into the chair and looked over at Daryl apologetically. He shrugged.

"I know how my brother can be, but I can't help if I can't hear the stupid shit he's sayin'," he explained, azure eyes flicking across the table to settle on Morgan.

Beth felt a blush rising from her neck up to her cheeks and quickly turned away, focusing on Morgan as well. She knew she looked crazy to Daryl, but that didn't mean she liked it. Sometimes it was just too damn hard to ignore the crap that spewed from Merle's mouth.

She needed to work on that. Although she wasn't sure how much more her blood pressure could tolerate. She'd always been a very patient person, yet she'd already been pushed to the end of her rope by this guy. And he wasn't even alive.

Morgan simply nodded and waved off their words, turning and walking over to a tall bookcase that sat in the corner. There were various odd objects lining the shelves, too jumbled together for Beth to discern what they were from where she sat. She watched with bated breath as Morgan scanned the shelves thoughtfully before he carefully pulled something out from the bottom-most shelf. He brushed off a layer of dust and gazed down at it for a moment, then returned to the table and plopped it down on the table before her.

She and Daryl stared down at the object, puzzled. It was a small statue, no larger than her palm. It appeared to be hand-carved from the darkest wood she'd ever seen. The head was shaped like a snarling black dog while the body resembled a human man, muscular and toned, hands clasped together over the abdomen. There were two tiny rubies embedded within the eyes, gleaming ominously in the light.

At first, Beth thought it might've been one of those Egyptian gods or something, but the longer she studied it, the more sure she felt that it was something else entirely. It looked foreign and strange and she could've sworn it was pulsating with some kind of unique energy. She was too wary to reach out and touch it, though she wanted to.

She started, "What - "

Morgan stopped her, eager to explain: "It's a Djab Idol. A powerful artifact. With the right spell - which I'll write down for you to use at your own discretion - it can banish Merle's soul away from you. Forever."

Her jaw dropped and she looked up at him, eyes gone wide. "Banish him - forever…?"

He smiled and clasped his hands in front of him, nodding. "Banished. Forever."

"What - like straight to Hell?" Daryl asked, disconcerted.

"No," Morgan assured, eyes still locked on Beth. "It doesn't push him out of this plane - it's not quite that powerful. But it will break the connection between the two of you. He will no longer be able to contact you. Which means he'll never have the ability to affect your family either. Once he's banished, you won't see or hear him on this plane of existence… ever again."

"What the fuck?!" Merle cried, outraged. "Why would that even be an option? That ain't fuckin' fair!"

Without glancing back, Morgan replied, "Death isn't fair, Merle."

That shut him up. Though the indignation was still clear on his face.

Beth swallowed hard and looked over to Daryl. He was pale again, staring blankly at the idol on the table. When he felt her gaze on him, his eyes flicked over to meet hers. But she couldn't read the expression on his face. Her stomach churned with uncertainty. The cross hanging around her neck was suddenly hot against her skin.

She looked to Morgan once more and asked, "And what would that mean for Daryl? For his soul?"

Morgan's mouth curved downward and he was obviously trying to appear indifferent. And failing. He cleared his throat and responded, "The deal with Papa Legba would still stand, with or without you. The outcome, however… would rely entirely on Merle."

"Oh!" Merle chirped up. "Well that ain't so bad. Hell, I could prob'ly work shit out ten times faster without this dingbat slowin' me down." He cackled smugly.

Beth's blood pressure was skyrocketing again. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap and she briefly wished Daryl could hear what his shithead of a brother was saying.

But Morgan interjected calmly, as though playing referee came naturally to him. She figured he was probably used to dealing with horrible souls like Merle by now, so maybe his tolerance was much higher than hers. Then again, it undoubtedly helped that he didn't have any personal stake in the matter. He wasn't the one who had to walk around with Merle at his side day and night.

"You know what's at risk here," Morgan said, quietly lowering himself back into his chair across the table while keeping his intense gaze locked with Beth's. "And you know very well, by this point in your life, that with every good comes a bad. It's a balance. There will always be give and take. How much you choose to give will be completely up to you, Beth."

Beth couldn't bring herself to glance over at Daryl. She could feel his eyes set on her, waiting for a reaction.

He wasn't saying it because he wasn't a self-centered asshat like his dead brother - but she knew he was thinking it. How could he not? She would be too, if she were in his position.

Are you gonna throw my soul to the wolves? Leave it in Merle's incapable hands? Are you gonna take the easy way out and hope it works itself out somehow?

She started weakly, "But I - "

Morgan detected the hesitation in her tone and cut her off, raising his eyebrows, "I know what you've been raised to believe. I've seen the moral code that's been instilled within you since birth. And I'm only gonna tell you this one time, Beth Greene."

Her mouth snapped shut.

"There is no list of good and bad deeds being kept by your God. There is no one-way ticket to that Eternal Paradise you've been promised," he declared. "Nor is there a one-way ticket to Hell. The Gifted are no more or less ill-fated than all the rest of humanity. It's what we choose in our everyday lives that determines who we are, not some blood inheritance that forces us to sacrifice our own selves."

She nodded stiffly, unable to do much more. His statement was like the cherry on top of a huge, sloppy sundae consisting of all the most fantastical shit she'd never really wanted to know. Yet she was beginning to accept the fact that she couldn't have stayed ignorant forever.

Morgan leaned forward just the slightest bit. Beth withered beneath his intense brown eyes, the look of absolute certainty on his face.

"That odd thing I said earlier - remember? When someone spoke through me?"

She quickly nodded. Wee Beth, the child born twice.

"If you feel like you cannot make this decision on your own, remember the words that you heard spoken through me. Someone close to you may hold the reassurance you so desperately seek."

"O-okay," she choked out.

As if he'd flipped a switch, the ominous shadow in Morgan's eyes disappeared. He smiled and relaxed. He looked over to Daryl and smiled a little wider.

"Well then - it's gettin' late," Morgan said. "I know y'all have a long drive back and there's not much sunlight left. Not to rush you out or anything."

"Nah," Daryl agreed, standing from his chair. He'd clearly heard enough and was eager for any excuse to leave. "Yer right. We got a long drive ahead."

Morgan glanced to Beth and added, "I wouldn't want your dad to worry about where you are."

Right, my dad. Shit… and Maggie, Beth thought, her mind racing. I still have all of that to worry about on top of this. How am I gonna explain getting home so late this time?

Morgan wrote down the banishing spell with very specific instructions on a piece of paper similar to what the map had been drawn on and gave it to Beth, along with the Djab Idol. She accepted both with shaky hands, wishing she'd brought a bigger purse so she didn't have to hold them in her hands. Something about them felt odd, almost ominous. Like the weight of her decision rested within the pair. And the doghead idol seemed to grow hot in her palm.

She and Daryl shook Morgan's hand and thanked him for his hospitality while Merle sneered across the room, dragging his feet. He complained about leaving like a toddler in need of a nap, anxious to flee the swamp entirely and to start hunting down his suspected killer.

Though he seemed to have a second thought once Daryl was opening the back door and stepping out onto the porch.

The sound of Merle's voice made Beth pause and look back as he asked Morgan, "Hey - one last question, Swamp Witch."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Yeah?"

"That Halloween party," Merle smirked mischievously, waving a hand to lazily gesture towards Beth and Daryl. "'S that gonna be the night that these two finally hook up? I'm tryin'a help my brother get some pussy outta all this."

Beth stood by aghast, but Morgan laughed. He shook his head, still grinning.

"Lord, no," he chuckled. "It won't be that night. Don't try to intervene, Merle - everything will work out as it should."

Merle threw his head back and guffawed, seemingly pleased with Morgan's answer. Beth made a sound of indignation before storming out the door, though Morgan didn't seem to notice. She was too flustered to be angry at the Swamp Witch, more appalled that Merle would ask such a thing. Who the hell did he think he was? Some kind of demonic matchmaker? She quickly pushed it out of her head and picked up her pace, eager to get back to the truck and thankful that Daryl had slipped outside ahead of her so he couldn't hear what Morgan had said.

Daryl was already on the porch and looking back, waiting for her to catch up and wondering why she'd hesitated.

"What was that?" He asked as she approached him. "He tell you somethin' else?"

She strode past him without stopping, shaking her head. "No. It was nothin'. Let's get outta here."

Eastman emerged from behind a thicket of trees and hanging moss as soon as Beth and Daryl reached the road. He was walking with his walking stick and smiling, apparently expecting them. He offered to escort them back to the truck and Beth felt that it would've been rude to turn him down, even though his assistance wasn't necessary. Daryl, on the other hand, clearly had different reasons for accepting the escort.

"Where's Tabitha?" He asked within seconds of their trek back to the vehicle, his eyes continuously darting over to the trees in search of any sign of the alligator.

Eastman chuckled and continued leading them forward. "I suppose she's off doin' gator things. I'm glad you like her so much - she seems to like you two as well. And I trust her judgment. She has an instinct that can't be replicated within humans. A Gift of her own, if you will. She can sniff out a corrupt soul from ten miles away."

Daryl grunted. "Doesn't surprise me."

Beth's head was too full of Morgan's words to say anything. She could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other, the idol in her hand growing heavier and heavier. The only relief she felt came from the sight of her familiar black Ford sitting in the road ahead, Daryl's bike still resting in the bed.

Merle didn't reappear until they were back at the truck and Beth was opening the driver's side door. Daryl paused at the passenger side, reaching out to shake Eastman's hand.

"Thanks, man," he said. "Hopefully we never have ta see you again, I s'pose."

Eastman chuckled and glanced to Beth as he replied, "No worries, my friend. If either of you are ever in need, don't hesitate to return. Hopefully the next time we meet, it'll be under better circumstances."

"Don't count on it," Merle grumbled before disappearing. A second later, he reappeared in the backseat of the truck, an impatient frown on his face.

"We can only hope," Beth said. "Thanks again."

Eastman flashed her a wide smile and she opened her door, moving to step in.

She saw Daryl lowering his head and giving Eastman a brief nod, then he muttered, "Tell Tabitha I said bye." He must've thought she couldn't hear him.

She stifled a laugh as they climbed into the truck. Once their doors were shut and Eastman was walking away, back toward the swamp house, she turned to Daryl.

"You really like that alligator, don't you?" She smirked.

He scoffed and pretended to busy himself with fastening his seatbelt while she put the key in and started the ignition. "Her name's Tabitha," he mumbled.

Beth laughed and shook her head, glancing into the rearview mirror to find Merle shrugging in agreement.

"He's got a point, blondie. Tabitha mighta been the only good thing we got outta this whole fuckin' excursion. She's a livin' dinosaur, fer fuck's sake - how could ya not like her?"

Beth rolled her eyes. She realized that not even a visit with a Swamp Witch could break Merle's spirit. Literally.

She was definitely in for a long and annoying drive home.

to be continued...