On a Scale of Greene To Dixon
Breakfast at the Greene's table was a peaceful and pleasant affair—for the most part. Beth sat next to Shawn with Maggie and Glenn across from them and their dad occupying the head of the table. Hershel served them all pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fresh coffee. They sat and ate leisurely, burning through pot after pot of coffee, talking and joking and catching up on all the happenings of Glenn and Maggie's busy city life, the gossip around town, the recent events amongst the farm. Even after all the food was gone, they remained around the table, conversing for nearly an hour while sipping coffee.
Beth was worried that she and Maggie's shared secret would create an awkward tension between them, yet once she was sitting with her family and smiling and laughing, she nearly forgot all about it. Only nearly because Merle was still in the room, disappearing occasionally when he would grow bored only to pop back up again and make a callous remark in Beth's ear. She was getting better and better at tuning him out, though. (It was somewhere around the fifth or sixth racist joke about Asians that she managed to block out his scratchy voice altogether. He was furious about being ignored but didn't make any attempts to leave, as she'd hoped he might.)
She almost wished she'd gone to Maggie sooner. She couldn't help wondering how differently things may have turned out if she'd only known that her big sister was holding the same dark secret inside for all these years. Then again, it didn't matter. She had her sister's support now, when she needed it the very most. And that had already done wonders for her sense of hope. The weight upon her back didn't feel quite so impossibly heavy now; the long and treacherous road that lay ahead didn't seem nearly as difficult to navigate. Because if everything fell apart, at least she'd still have Maggie there to lean on—someone to go to for advice who wasn't a witch or a ghost or a psychic. Someone who actually knew Beth's life and knew Beth. If there was anyone who'd ever been able to shake some sense into Beth, or shove some much-needed courage down her throat, it was Maggie.
They'd always been a little more connected to one another than Shawn or Annette or their father, and now Beth understood why. They really did share an eternal bond. They both carried the same curse that had been thrust upon them before they'd even taken their first breaths; the Greene blood ran strong and sure through their veins.
They weren't just blessed. They were Gifted. Something that no one else in their family could ever understand.
A text message from Daryl arrived around 8:45. Beth was still sitting at the table and sipping coffee while Glenn talked about one of his coworkers. She didn't want to be rude so she kept her phone in her lap, hidden by the table, and discreetly looked down to read: Got a hold of Rick but he's busy till lunch.
She felt Merle at her back before she heard him. "'S that Daryl?"
She pursed her lips and tilted the phone screen so Merle could see it over her shoulder, then she quickly typed out a response: Do you want to meet up with him then? I'm busier with family this morning than I thought I'd be but I should be able to slip away by lunch. She hit Send and Merle scoffed.
"You gonna sit around all goddamn mornin' gossiping with yer sister? We got more important shit ta deal with, don'tcha think?"
Beth rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to shoot a glare over her shoulder. She tucked her phone away and returned to the conversation at the table, finishing her fourth cup of coffee. Shawn began talking about the steer that got loose and wandered all the way into town last month.
"Ugh, if I gotta hear one more stupid fuckin' story about some cow, I'm gonna kill myself for real," Merle complained loudly. "Fuck this. I'm gonna go move some shit around at Daryl's house, see if I can scare that dumb bitch he lives with a li'l bit. Don't be talkin' too much shit while I'm gone, princess."
Beth made a faint gesture over her shoulder, like she was brushing off dirt. But Merle caught it clearly. He appeared behind Maggie and flipped Beth the bird with an ugly frown.
Then he disappeared again. He didn't reappear this time. Beth breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the conversation at the table.
A few minutes later, her phone vibrated with a new message from Daryl: Works for me. He said we can meet him at the station around 12:30. Want me to pick you up so you don't have to borrow your dad's truck again?
She wasn't sure why, but her stomach fluttered as she read the text and she could feel her ears growing warm. She quickly texted back, On your bike? Probably a stupid question, but she had to make sure. No truck meant no long drives with Merle in her ear, so if that was the case, then her answer would definitely be yes.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately with a response: No, on my magic carpet. Yeah my bike. What else? Lol
She hadn't even realized she was smiling until Shawn called her out.
"Who're you textin'?"
She shoved her phone beneath her leg and raised her head to find everyone at the table had turned their attention on her. She shrugged bashfully and mumbled, "Nobody."
"Is it Daryl?" Shawn teased, smirking.
Her cheeks immediately turned pink and she tried to brush off the comment with a laugh. "No! Why would it be?"
Hershel was smiling at her from his seat and chimed in, "Bethy…"
She was quickly turning bright red, avoiding her dad's gaze and looking to Maggie for rescue. Luckily, Maggie seemed to have been prepared to cover for her.
"Stop teasin' her," she scolded, shooting Shawn a glare that wiped the smirk off his face. Then she looked to Hershel and said, "They're not dating. They're just friends. Leave 'em be. She's an adult, she can talk to whoever she wants."
Hershel shrugged indifferently and chuckled. "I never said she couldn't." He looked to Beth and said, "You don't have to hide it from us, Doodlebug. He's a decent fella. I couldn't say the same about that brother of his, but—"
"Dad!" Maggie snapped, lowering her voice as though she were revealing a secret. "His brother died."
Shawn raised his coffee cup and said, "Yeah, we heard. Hung himself. Prob'ly did so many damn drugs, it rotted his brain."
Beth nudged an elbow hard into Shawn's side and he grunted, leaning away and giving her a baffled look. She glared back.
Hershel cut in, "Don't speak ill of the dead, Shawn. Merle Dixon didn't have the best reputation, but we should never pass judgment. That's not our job."
"Right," Maggie agreed sharply, glaring at Shawn from across the table with a near identical expression as Beth's.
Shawn rolled his eyes and took a long sip of coffee before mumbling, "Whatever."
"Well," Glenn remarked, his tone notably more cheerful than the others'. "I'm happy for you, Beth. Even if he's just a friend—you can never have too many friends. He's a lucky guy to have you in his life." He smiled warmly over his mug.
Beth smiled back. "Thanks, Glenn. At least someone around here understands platonic relationships."
"Right—platonic," Shawn teased. "Fer now."
"Grow up," Maggie scolded.
"Me?" Shawn argued. "I'm not the one sneakin' around with some guy twice my age."
"I'm not sneaking around!" Beth snapped.
"Who cares how old he is?" Maggie said. "Dad was eighteen years older than Mom—"
"And we're not dating," Beth interjected, shooting her sister a meaningful look. "So it doesn't matter."
"He's like forty, Beth," Shawn insisted. "What business d'you got hangin' around with a middle-aged guy that isn't yer dad?"
"What business do you got tellin' her who she can an' can't hang out with?" Maggie said. "She's twenty-four, Shawn. She's capable of makin' her own decisions."
"That's enough," Hershel boomed, his voice raised but calm. He spoke firmly, looking from Shawn to Maggie to Beth and back again. "We are not fighting today, children. Or at all this weekend. We're spending a nice time together as a family. And we're gonna respect each other—and cherish each other. You hear me?"
All three Greene children nodded obediently, lips shut tight. Even Glenn looked a little ashamed, nodding along apologetically even though he hadn't been arguing. Shawn, Maggie, and Beth each mumbled out "sorry, dad" in near unison, sharing remorseful looks amongst one another.
Some things never change, Beth thought.
Once breakfast was finished and the last pot of coffee had dwindled to dregs, the Greene's split off. Hershel and Shawn asked Glenn to join them while they made their late morning rounds of the farm, and Maggie and Beth were left to spend some quality sister time together. They volunteered to clean up the kitchen, which they did fairly quickly. Beth let the silence settle over them, enjoying the limited Merle-free time she was getting.
She'd already opted to text Daryl instead of calling him, agreeing to be picked up shortly after noon. He'd responded with a thumbs up emoji. She tried not to let herself grow too anxious over the prospect of riding on the back of his bike again. She was already plotting out how she'd have to meet him down the road in order to avoid any more awkward questions from Shawn or her dad.
When they finished cleaning up from breakfast, Beth and Maggie sat down in the living room, close together on the big blue couch. The silence had slowly grown more tense. Beth could see all the questions forming on her sister's face.
Once they'd sat down and gotten comfortable, Maggie started asking all the questions she'd been formulating. Beth told her everything about the last few days, from Merle's first appearance to her search for answers in Atlanta, Duane's strange map, the trip to the swamps of Florida, meeting Eastman and Morgan and Tabitha, finding out about her Gift, learning of Papa Legba and his deals, receiving the Djab Idol and the black magic spell… Well, almost everything. She left out minor details, like holding hands with Daryl and being relentlessly teased by Merle. The little fact that Daryl's dad killed his mother—and tried to kill him as well. And all the weird stuff about 'intertwined fates' that Jadis and Morgan had either said or implied. She also hesitated to mention the whole patricide ordeal.
When she talked about Merle, she couldn't help but go on a bit of a rant. She vented about how frustrating he was, how ignorantly he spoke, how every stupid thing that came out of his mouth grated on her last nerve. But she also reiterated how good of a brother he was—because he was. If Beth were honest, he was a pretty damn good brother. Sure, he had his faults. But all in all, he would've given anything to keep Daryl safe. And now, even after death, he was going out of his way to make sure his little brother wouldn't be doomed to suffer for eternity. So, all things considered, yeah, he was a good brother. A little abusive, a little resentful, a little regressive. Very fucking ignorant and narcissistic. But good overall.
She couldn't lie and try to tell Maggie that he was a good man, though. Not that Maggie would've been convinced anyway. She was already visibly displeased with most of the things she'd been told—particularly the excessive drive to Florida and the all-too-close encounter with a huge alligator. But she didn't become condescending or discouraging, and that was all Beth could've really hoped for. For once, it was nice just to be heard without the fear of being locked up in a psych ward.
She allowed herself to rant about Daryl a bit, too. Maggie seemed to perk up whenever his name was mentioned, like she was listening a little closer. Beth watched what she said, careful not to speak of him in the same tone she'd used for Merle. Though it wasn't terribly difficult. Even though his stubborn attitude and frustrating silence had put her on edge the day before, she understood it now. And it was yet another piece of the puzzle that comprised who he was, which she was slowly figuring out. She couldn't actually be mad at him or speak of him in a negative light.
After all, he was a pure soul caked in shards of shattered glass. And he was obviously clinging to the remains of the man he was meant to be—the man he still could be. He just needed a little help.
Maggie noticed the hint of fondness in Beth's tone. She raised her eyebrows with intrigue and asked, "So you wanna help him? You care about him?"
Beth shrugged and glanced away sheepishly. Why was she embarrassed? Of course she cared about him. He was a human being, and a kind-hearted one at that. Even despite his rough exterior. So why should she be ashamed to admit that she didn't want to see him murdered or know that his soul was going to Hell?
"Yeah," she said, meeting Maggie's green eyes with certainty. "Course I do. He's a good person—he doesn't deserve any of this. If there's somethin' I can do to keep his soul from going to Hell, then… why wouldn't I do it?"
Maggie shrugged, eyeing Beth up and down as though she were looking for some sort of telltale sign. "I dunno… He might be good, but he's not the best guy. You barely know him. What if he's not as innocent as you think?"
Beth frowned. "Merle's told me more than enough. Daryl might be rough around the edges, but he's not Merle. He may not be the best, but who is? He tries. That's more than I can say about his brother."
"Well, it just doesn't sound like there's a very high bar bein' set here, Bethy," Maggie admitted. "I don't know the guy, but I've been hearin' about the Dixon's fer years. And not one of 'em was ever described as good."
"Okay, but Rick an' Daryl are friends," Beth pointed out. "And you know Rick wouldn't be friends with somebody if they were bad news."
Maggie shrugged. "That doesn't necessarily mean anythin', though. Rick's friends with a lotta people. He might not be just like Merle, but—"
"But nothing," Beth interjected sharply. "You don't know him."
She paused and restrained herself, biting her tongue. She wasn't sure why she was getting so fiercely defensive of Daryl all of a sudden, but she couldn't help it. He might've irritated her, but after everything they'd been through together at Morgan's, after all the strength he'd offered throughout the whole experience, she couldn't help but be a little angry that her sister would judge him so harshly. Or doubt him so adamantly. She understood Maggie's need to protect her, but she should've known that Beth wouldn't waste her time trying to help a lost cause. She should've known Beth wouldn't allow anyone to back her into a corner against her own will. Especially not Daryl.
"He's not a perfect person by any means," Beth explained, trying to keep her tone calm and measured. "But he's good despite all of that. Him an' Merle—they didn't have a good life like us, Maggie. They didn't have a nice house or a supportive family or even a dad who cared about 'em. All they ever knew was survival. Their mama died when Daryl was just a kid. And then his dad neglected him and beat him. How d'you think you would act if you'd grown up like that?"
Maggie's face drained of color and her mouth fell into a frown. She glanced away in shame for a moment. "Shit, Bethy… You didn't mention that part."
"Yeah, well," Beth said plainly. "I wasn't tryin' to lay his whole life story out for you 'cause I didn't think it mattered. All that does matter is that somebody killed Merle, they might wanna come kill Daryl next, and if we don't figure it out soon, Daryl's soul will end up in Hell. With Merle. And their dad."
Maggie sighed and worried her lower lip for a long moment. Then she said, "I get it, okay? I understand why you wanna help him, I know why you can't walk away… But I have ta know that yer fully grasping the consequences here. I need ta know that you have an exit plan in case it all goes south."
"I do," Beth quickly assured. "That's what the idol is for. And the banishing spell."
Maggie jerked her head towards the general direction of the stairs. "That dog statue on yer desk an' the weird note you have?"
Beth nodded. "Morgan said pretty much the same stuff you did about me havin' a choice."
Maggie's eyebrows rose. "Good. He was right. You do have a choice… Don't be afraid to exercise it."
Beth sighed and rolled her eyes. "I am. And I'm choosin' to help them. Even if one of 'em doesn't deserve the help."
Maggie gave a tight-lipped nod and smile.
"That's my choice."
"I know, Beth. I can't stop you. And I'm not gonna try." Maggie leaned forward and grasped Beth's hands in hers. "Just… don't forget to remember yourself. That stupid Gift doesn't mean yer chained to anybody, dead or alive. Not even Daryl Dixon."
Beth offered a weak smile of reassurance.
"I know."
Dixon's ain't turnips, she thought. But Greene's ain't doormats.
As expected, Maggie demanded to know what Beth's plan was concerning the next couple of weeks. Beth explained that she didn't have much of a plan—all she knew was that she and Daryl needed to talk to Rick, and that she was supposed to be invited to a Halloween party in which her attendance would be absolutely vital, per Morgan. Maggie proceeded to drill her for a solid twenty minutes about Daryl, asking for every detail she had about him. Thankfully, she seemed to relax a bit once she learned he had a female roommate and a dog and a steady job and at least two respectable friends.
Beth struggled not to roll her eyes every few minutes, quickly growing irritated by her big sister's overprotective nature. But she reminded herself that Maggie was simply scared for her, and that they did indeed have a bond that no one else could ever understand; she might've let her Gift fade away, but that didn't mean she was ignorant to its power.
Then again, Beth wasn't sure that Maggie had fully grasped just how strong Beth had become after twenty years of holding in such a huge and painful secret. Did she have any idea what Beth was actually capable of? How difficult it had been to take a razorblade to her wrist and then decide to live? How many internal battles she'd fought and won all on her own? Probably not.
She might never understand that deeply.
But that was okay. Because she was her sister. She cared. She'd been told by a Witch that Beth would need her guidance. And, as expected, that Witch had been right. Beth couldn't blame her for being a little overly concerned as a result.
Rick Grimes was the only other name that seemed to put Maggie at ease. Beth reassured her over and over that Sheriff Grimes would be a big part of her and Daryl's investigation, and that she had no doubt he'd do everything in his power to keep them both safe. Maggie agreed, though not audibly. Her eyes lit up when Beth reminded her of how Morgan had foretold Rick meeting his "future wife" because of Beth and Daryl's intervention. She was a hopeless romantic at heart—a secret that only Beth really knew. And she used it to her advantage every now and then.
It was half past eleven when Maggie finally declared herself satisfied—or satisfied enough—with Beth's plans. She still didn't seem very convinced that it was safe, or even smart, but she was getting better at biting her tongue and Beth was grateful for that. Slowly but surely, her sister was beginning to view her as an adult who could make her own choices. And that was all she could really ask for at this point.
"Yer not gonna skip out on the memorial fer this, are you?" Maggie asked.
"No," Beth replied indignantly. "Of course not."
"Okay. Just makin' sure," Maggie said. "What about Daryl?"
"What about Daryl?"
"Well, what's he gonna do tomorrow?"
"I don't know. We haven't gotten that far. But I'm sure we can put it off fer one day."
"Okay, whatever," Maggie sneered. "No need fer an attitude."
Beth rolled her eyes.
"C'mon—let's make some lunch." Maggie patted Beth's leg and stood from the couch, stretching out her arms after sitting for so long.
"I'm still full from breakfast," Beth said, pulling out her phone and checking it for the first time in an hour. There was a text from Daryl that had arrived five minutes ago. It read: On my way.
"Well you should still eat somethin' before you go runnin' off with Daryl again," Maggie said. "C'mon, I'll make us some sandwiches."
Beth stood from the couch and followed her sister to the kitchen, trying to ignore the way her stomach had suddenly started fluttering. "I'll just grab a granola bar fer later. Me an' Daryl will stop ta eat somewhere."
"As long as yer eatin'," Maggie muttered.
Beth wasn't sure why she was so anxious for Daryl's arrival. Logically, she should've been dreading it, because it would mean Merle's return as well. Yet all she could think about was riding on the back of his bike and—crap, had she dressed appropriately for the back of a motorcycle? There was a leather jacket in her closet that she hadn't worn in a couple years, but would it be chilly enough to necessitate its use? Wait… why did she care so much? It would be fine, she silently assured herself. She'd ridden on that damn thing once already and she'd been even less prepared than she was now. Today, she'd chosen tight jeans, sturdy black boots, and a lightweight tan jacket over a long-sleeved white tee. Surely that would be more than suitable for a couple hours of motorcycle riding in the middle of October. Or a few hours. Depending on what happened. Whatever.
Maggie was humming an old tune as she went about making a sandwich for herself, her eyes repeatedly flicking up to look out the kitchen window. Beth went to the pantry and opened the door, reaching in to grab two granola bars before stepping back and shutting the door. When she turned around, Merle was standing before her. She reflexively gasped and froze. But as soon as she saw his stupid grin, she frowned.
"Miss me?" He asked, blue eyes twinkling.
Maggie heard the gasp and turned around, looking to Beth. "What's…" She paused and when Beth's gaze met hers, an expression of recognition crossed her face. "Oh. Is he back?"
Beth nodded, then looked back to Merle and pointedly rolled her eyes. He cackled.
"He's on his way, blondie," he muttered. "But I'm sure you already knew that. Saw 'im textin' ya." His tone seemed to take on a hint of resentment.
Beth merely mmhmmed in response as she brushed past him and retrieved her purse from where it sat on the table, stuffing the granola bars inside.
"Daryl's on his way?" Maggie asked.
"Yeah," Beth replied.
As if on cue, the rumble of a motorcycle drifted into the kitchen from down the road. Beth's heart skipped.
"I wanna talk to him before y'all go ridin' off anywhere," Maggie said. "He's comin' up to the house, right?"
"Talk to 'im about what?" Merle asked, narrowing his eyes at Beth. "The hell's she want with my brother? What'd you tell 'er while I was gone?"
Beth withheld a sigh of exasperation and gave her sister a shrug just as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out and found a new text.
Stopped down the road. Did you want me to come up the driveway?
Her stomach fluttered again and she typed out, Yeah. Meet me on the back porch.
She pressed Send and looked up to find Maggie staring at her expectantly, mayonnaise-slathered knife in hand.
Beth raised her eyebrows. "What?"
Maggie rolled her eyes. "Is he comin' up here or not?"
"Oh my god, yes—are you happy? He's coming to the house. Jeez."
She typed out a second text as fast as she could: my sister wants to talk to you before we leave.
"Stop bein' a brat," Maggie scolded.
The rumble of the motorcycle grew closer and louder until it was filling the kitchen and approaching from down the long driveway.
Beth was almost certain she hadn't sent that second text quickly enough.
to be continued...