Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Daryl tossed his keys onto the table beside the door and headed to his room, saying goodnight to Merle and undressing on his way to his room. They had spent hours going over what Merle needed to do and how to improve himself and bolster this proposal for the future. Merle asked about a million questions to be sure he knew exactly what Amaro wanted, and Amaro was more than happy to answer the questions. They would make find business partners, but for now it wasn't set in stone. Merle had to earn Amaro's trust and show he was dedicated to this business and not the bottle. He had to join AA, NA, GA and Amaro would be in contact with him the entire time. He wanted proof of his joining these programs and his progress, and Merle wasn't found of joining Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, and Gamblers Anonymous, but he wanted this bar, so he joined. He was unofficially sober since he was released from prison, but officially he was back at day one. Oh fucking boy.

Daryl found Carol in his bed and smiled, glad to have her there. He shrugged out of his shirt and let it stay where it dropped, climbing into bed and curling up with her. She moaned sleepily and nuzzled her face into his pillow, and he kissed her hair before drifting off into a deep sleep. He didn't have a dreamless night. In fact, he had a bunch of nightmares about his son and his brother, but when he woke up, he couldn't remember them.

He smelled breakfast cooking and slipped out of bed, going to the bathroom to splash water on his face, and he buried his dripping face into a towel and groaned as he tried to rub off the nightmares. He heaved a sigh and dropped the towel into the dirty hamper since it reeked of aftershave and Merle liked wiped his hands on the towel after shaving, and it was now dirty. He hoped Merle grew some basic manners in while he was going through this lifestyle change. Daryl couldn't tolerate him cramping up his space for the rest of their lives. He needed Merle to get out on his own, and it was time to shove the bird out of the nest. Amaro did the shoving, and Daryl would lay the groundwork. It was a joint effort, but hey, when did one person ever move Merle?

He headed to the kitchen and found it was Merle who had made breakfast, Carol was going over the paperwork Merle had been given by Amaro, and she was explaining some of it to him. Merle was a smart guy, but he had to have some things broken down to fully explain them. Guess Carol was the person to ask. She was so kind and thoughtful. She wouldn't let him feel shame for asking stupid questions. It made Daryl happy to see it—though when Merle noticed him the doorway, he said Carol's nosy ass found his paperwork and decided to read it aloud to him to be clear that he was actually doing this. Most of them were directions to the nearest meeting for NA, AA and GA. Amaro was clear on that—sober as a stone.

Daryl chuckled and sat down at the table, greeting his son by stroking his hair, and Carol leaned over to kiss him. She tasted of toothpaste and orange juice. He did not like the combination but behind both tastes was her. He missed her, and if Merle weren't here, they'd be having a different type of breakfast.

"Good morning." She hummed and smiled at him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Awful. Had a buncha weird dreams." He shook his head to shake the nightmares off and stood up to get some food. "Whatcha you make?"

"Eggs, bacon and toast. Breakfast of hardworking men." He smacked Daryl's hand when he tried to grab a piece of bacon. "Who said you were a hardworking man?"

"Literally anybody's ever met me," he retorted and snatched a piece of bacon. "I paid for this anyway." He waved it in his face and bit into it, returning to the table. "Prick."

"Daryl," Carol scowled. "Be nice."

"I am nice. That's me bein' nice." He threw a hand out at his brother. "Right?"

"He ain't right," Merle informed Carol. "But he's right."

"Thank you."

"How does that make any kind of sense?" Carol looked from brother to brother for clarity, and they both shrugged. "It that some type of weird brother logic?"

"Nah, just Dixon logic." Merle smirked. "C'mon, come eat, girl."

"Ooh, yay." She hopped up and helped herself to the prepared food.

"What the hell? I thought it was for "hardworking men"." Daryl glowered as he chomped angrily down on bacon.

"She's the mother of my nephew. I gotta be nice to her to see him." His smirk deepened. "Besides I gotta learn to be nice to people. She's real easy to be nice to. Got that nice attitude about her. It's contagious."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'll make you a plate, if you'll shut up about it."

"All I'm askin' since I paid for the entire meal."

"Yeah, yeah."

The trio sat down at the table, Carol shook out some more cereal for Clay to munch on, and Merle looked over the meetings that were taking place today via Daryl's cell phone, and he frowned at the thought of having to sit there and listen to people's stories about their addictions. He wasn't very empathic or patient, and he didn't want to sit there and listen. He would rather be working on the bar. And he hated that word, too. Addictions. Addictions. Ugh, what was he some twenty-something who just found out that booze could make you grow some chest on your chest? Jesus H. He hated the word and everything about it, but he wanted that bar, so he had to comply. Maybe he'd find someone hot there to focus on.

Though he couldn't thirteen step. That was against most programs to get romantically involved with other members. He'd have to find a sponsor and stick it 'em. He didn't want to do that, have to rely on someone when the urge to give in crept over him. What if the prick didn't answer his phone when Merle was in crisis? Or worse—what if he did answer his phone, and Merle didn't like what he had to say? What if it triggered him to drink more? Gamble more? Or go shoot up in some dank ass alley and potentially die, leaving his little brother to continue to fend for the world all by himself.

Merle looked over at his brother as he made eyes at his little girlfriend, kissing her palm and holding her hand. He truly loved his girl. Maybe more than he loved anybody else in his life. Merle couldn't blame him for loving someone more than he loved his brother these days. Merle had picked drugs and drinking and women over him day after day for years. The one time he did he killed for Daryl, and that got him into whole new world of trouble. He couldn't blame Daryl for cutting ties and thinking of his future. He honestly had nothing to blame Daryl for but his shitty taste in bacon and near expired eggs.

He held a forkful of eggs and saw a blonde-haired little boy with hungry eyes and bruised knees. He was looking at his big brother with hopeful eyes, and Merle knew he had to do this. The straight and narrow. He had to do it, and not just for him, but for his brother. For his future. For his nephew. He had to keep straight, because if he slipped…even for a minute…he would fall back into the same cycle Daryl was clawing to escape. Merle wouldn't be the last shred of their old man in the world. He wouldn't be a reminder of what was. So, he had to do this. He could make it. He would make it with the cost being cutting ties.

If he slipped, if he failed Amaro and his rules, if he failed Clay, if he failed Daryl and Carol then he was cutting ties with his brother. It killed him to think about, but he couldn't and fucking would drag his brother down into the muck. He couldn't be the rock to his balloon, because Daryl could achieve so much good in this world, and Merle wouldn't hold him back anymore. So, for the sake of his blood, he would keep on this path.

Carol and Lori were working on their homework after school while Clay played with Axel in the pin, and Carol was finishing up on the last chapter of her required reading. She had skipped work today, because her parents wanted to have a conversation, and she was worried about it was about. They hadn't been in the same room together for a long while. It'd been weeks since the announcement of Mom's baby with Tyreese, and while nobody knew exactly how to handle it, the adults were not setting the example, so she was anxious to say the least.

Lori was chewing on the wood of her pencil, looking over the math problems before her and processing none of it for the exam she would have in a couple days. She wasn't ready to sit down and have a good old family chat about the lovechild, and she wasn't ready to see Tyreese. She wanted to run, to flee and never return to this nonsense world they were trying to call her home. She wanted the peace of mind she had before Clay's first birthday, but all illusions of that had been shattered. There was no going back. Only forward into the sickening unknown.

The front door opened, and both girls turned to find Karen and Tyreese there, coming in out of the rain, and Lori made to leave, but Axel grasped her shoulders and kept her in place. She groaned and sat back down, and Carol nodded as a greeting to Ty. He smiled at her and oved around to the other side of the island they were doing their homework on, unpacking the takeout dinner he and Karen had picked up. Carol wasn't hungry, and no matter how good the food smelled, she still wasn't going to be hungry.

"Hey, kiddos." Karen set he umbrella in the stand by the door wrapped in a bag and removed her coat. "How's homework going?"

"It's going." Carol lowered her book and turned to face her mom. "What's going on?"

"Right to the chase. That's just like my daughter." Karen smiled at her. "We have news."

"Oh, more news?" Lori sardonically questioned. "Like what? Axel is secretly married to a goat and has goat children?"

"What? No." Karen didn't even want to picture that. "It's about the house."

"This house or the family that used to live here?"

"Lori, enough." Axel removed his hands from her shoulder and joined the pair at the other side of the island. "You will show respect for your mother."

"Fine. I'll shut up."

"We want to have a very open discussion about the house and how we'll be living in," Karen slowly revealed, "until mine and Tyreese's paperwork on the house we bought last week goes through."

Lori stiffened.

"You already bought a house?" Carol gaped. "I—I didn't even know you were looking."

"We weren't, but we came across this gorgeous four bedroom that was within our price range, and we passed the checks. We're homeowners. Isn't that exciting?" Karen looked from one daughter to another, and neither of them looked thrilled about this news. "Anyway, um, once we have the keys and everything else squared away, we'll be moving in as quickly as we can. It's a stressful time, and it isn't good for the baby, so I'll really need you girls to pitch in. I'll call Daryl and Merle to ask for some arm support, but overall, I just need nice and calm environment."

"And we do all the heavy lifting while you sit on your ass like a princess?" Lori snapped. "I'm out."

"Well, actually, you're not out of anything." Karen stated. "I am your guardian, and so is Axel, who adopted you years ago, so you'll do what we say, because I want you girls to have a home in my house."

"What?" Lori frowned now. "My home is right here with you and Dad. You're shaking it up, and I refuse to just take it."

"Lori, please, just try and work with me." Karen set her hands on the counter. "Ty and I want you to be a part of the baby's live, and the baby to be a part of your lives. You deserve to know your future sibling, and they you."

"We deserved to not have a two-bit tramp as a mother," Lori spat. "If you wanted a baby and a husband then why marry Axel at all? Why not just say fuck it and leave us? I'd rather you'd have done that than this! You've disrupted the entire foundation of our lives and expect us to be cheery about it. It's fucked up, Mom."

"Lori, don't you ever take that tone or use that term to describe your mother ever again," Axel snapped. "Do you understand me?"

"Sure thing, Dad." She hopped off the stool and gathered her belongings. "I can't handle this right now. I don't want to stay here and then there. I don't want to pick between you and Ty or Axel. I don't want to be separated from Carol and Clay. I want my life back as it was! What is so hard to comprehend about that?!"

"It can't go back to how it was," Carol numbly informed her sister, "because it was like this the entire time. We just didn't know it."

Lori was on the verge of tears and swallowed. "At least there's some consistency here then."

"Lori, please, wait." Karen tried to follow her up the stairs, but Lori was quicker and darted up to her bedroom. "Damn it."

Tyreese looked at Carol. "I'm sorry. I really didn't know I would disrupt your lives this much. I thought… I don't know. I didn't think this through."

"Yeah, clearly." Carol scoffed and stood up. "You shook up our entire world, and yeah, I get it. Love is powerful, but come on, man."

"Yeah, I know."

"You wrecked our family right around the time we, the teens, were supposed to shake things up and move out. I mean…I got pregnant and shook up our lives, because I was so stupid kid. You're a whole ass adult, and you're supposed to have this shit figured out. I mean, seriously, what the hell, man?"

"I know, but you weren't some stupid kid. You were just living your life, and this happened to be how it was meant to play out, just like us."

"Yea, but you have money and condoms and birth control. You shouldn't have just…winged it. That's what teenagers do."

"Sometimes adults can find themselves behaving like teenagers."

"Yeah, that's not good enough." She collected her son and headed for the stars when Karen called out to her. "It's almost time for dinner, and I just want to play with him for a little while."

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I would like to…make amends."

"Now isn't the time, Mom." She shook her head. "It's just too much for me to handle right now. You…broke my heart."

"Carol—"

"Just…don't."

Carol and Clay went downstairs to play before dinner, Tyreese put their food in the fridge, and Karen had a cry on the couch while Axel tried to talk Lori out of her bedroom. There was only tension in the house. This house used to contain laughter and light and joyous memories, but now there was only thick pressure that choked them and made it impossible to breathe. They couldn't go on like this. This wasn't the type of environment Carol could raise her son in, and the thought of moving out was becoming more and more prevalent in her mind. There was seldom a doubt if this continued, the next time she packed Clay's bag for a sleepover, she'd be packing her as well.

Merle stood in the middle of the room, saying the beginning prayers with the rest of the NA members, and he looked around at all this people who were stung out or coming off meth or coming off a binger—he could tell because he used to live on that shit—and he felt alone there. The sense of community and brotherhood or whatever the fuck he was supposed to feel wasn't there. He wanted to back out, but he looked around and saw Amaro was there, watching him. He frowned instantly, and Amaro smiled at him.

He sat down and rubbed his hands together, listening to the first woman—Gracie—talk about her addiction of choice: meth, coke, pills. Anything she could get her hands on, and he thought about his past. All the things he'd done using, how many times he'd left an infant Daryl alone, all the time Daryl could have died, because his old man and his mother were pieces of shit. He couldn't break his ties to Daryl, and he couldn't lose seeing his nephew grow up, so he sat there and listened to her story.

And then listened to the next story, and the next and the next until it was time for the meeting to over, and they said another prayer. Merle shot up and went over to the coffee/cookie bar to speak to Amaro who was stirring sugar into his coffee. He demanded to know what the hell he was doing there, and Amaro stuck the straw between his teeth and smiled around it.

"Came for the free coffee." He tipped it back and drank the strong brew.

"Get serious, man. What the hell are the eyes on me for?"

"To ensure you kept your word." He set the cup down and placed his hands in his pockets. "I take my future investments very seriously, and I take Daryl very seriously. I know you must be doing this partly for him, so I wanted to see how much of a bond you two shared, how much you loved him. I wanted to see if it was enough."

Merle folded his arms over his chest and stared hard at the man.

"You have a very unstable track record. Yes, I had a background check run on you, because I had to know who I was getting into bed with, so to speak." He nodded at other members who recognized him from past investments, and he met Merle's eyes. "You can do this and do this well. Don't let some…sickness get the better of you. Rely on Daryl. Rely on me. You don't have to do this alone."

"Thought that was part of the deal. I get my shit straight on my own then come to you."

"It doesn't always have to be like that." He pointed out an older woman who was smiling and taking to her sponsees. "Her name is Maryland. She's a tough old broad. Survived breast cancer. Survive the war. Is surviving her opioid addiction."

"Yeah, what about her?"

"She's a great sponsor, is what I'm suggesting here." He shifted his weight. "She is available twenty-four seven for her sponsees. She's been through a lot of the world and its worst places, and I think it would benefit you greatly to ask her to be your sponsor. She has a do no harm, take no shit attitude, and she'll whip you into shape."

His lips drew a line at the thought of a lady sponsor. "I—I don't know about that, man."

"She sponsored a good friend of mine who was in worse shape than you, and he's doing very well now. He owns his own business. Works with charities. Has a wife and is expecting a baby girl in the fall. Not his, of course. Needles and all that lead to some…complications, but he's able to have a family and a career, because of his efforts and Maryland's support. You can't walk this path alone. You'll slip and tell yourself it's okay to have one drink, one pill, one shot, and the next thing you know you're on a binger, stealing from your brother and any friends you have. You're out on the street, and there's not a damn thing anybody can or will do you for you, because you chose this path over and over again.

"Addicts move in the same circles, because it's how they've trained their brains," he explained. "When the chips are down, you convince yourself one time will be enough then you'll restart. But you keep that pattern until it kills you. And I don't want to stand next to Daryl at your funeral. You cannot do this alone. Nobody can. So, go talk to her, and let's stand by him together at his graduation."

Merle lowered his eyes but nodded. "All right."

"Good man." He smiled and picked up his cup of coffee. "I'll see you around." He plucked a cookie from the container and strolled out of the building, looking back once as Merle approached Maryland. He bit into the cookie and padded up the stairs to leave.

"It's nice to meet you, Merle. I've heard a lot of stories about you." She patted his hand, and she had a mother's touch. Merle had no idea a mother's touch could be so gentle yet so strong as his mother never touched him in any way but to steer him out of a room or out of her face. She had short white hairs and smelled of cats and old lady perfume, and surprisingly, it was comforting. "I wondered if I would ever meet the infamous Merle from all the stories my sponsees tell me."

He sucked air in through his teeth and released her dainty hand. "Think I'm worth savin'?" It was a joke, but she didn't laugh, and he had a feeling she was a bit of a hard ass.

"Nobody here crosses such a line that they can't return from the edge," she replied. "And believe me, I've heard it all. Stories from stealing money from babies to resorting to robbery. There is nothing you can go through that will surprise me."

"I wouldn't say that just yet, lady."

She chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, Mr. Dixon."

"Merle…just call me Merle."

"It's just a last name. It has no power over you unless you let it, Mr. Dixon." She searched his eyes. "We have…control issues here. We let…things that shouldn't have power over us have power over us, and that can lead right back to using. See, we have to reclaim all the power we have given up throughout the years to use it to strength ourselves when the chips are down. We are weak beings, Mr. Dixon. Don't deny it. We all start out as weak babies, but we grow strong as we age, do we not?"

"Suppose so."

"Then grow stronger. Reclaim that power." She smiled lovingly at him. "And let me tell you about the time I stabbed a cop. It's a good lesson."

He blinked in surprise and nearly laughed. "You—what?"

"Well, he did stab me first."

Oh, God. Who the hell did Amaro ship him to?

"So, do you have a place to stay?" she inquired, and he nodded. "Food for tonight?"

"Yeah, we got food."

"Good. Good. If you ever don't, come to me." She pulled a card out of her purse with her address and phone number on it. "We have to take care of each other in this program, and I always start with trust. You know by now trust isn't given to people like us. We've broke it time and time again, so I extend this card and my trust to you, Merle Dixon. Don't let me down and call me any time you need me. And I do mean any time."

"Thank you, ma'am." He accepted the card and offered a small smile. "Means a lot." He hadn't trust from anybody in years. He was sure he'd worn out Daryl's trust years ago. He couldn't blame him. He had used and abused that trust so much. He'd stolen from Daryl. Lied to him. Brush off his concern. All of it and more. He didn't know how or why Daryl was still involved in his life other than blood ran thick. He had to shape up and repay those unspoken debts.

"I know it does." She patted his arm. "Get some coffee. I made the brownies."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and if you thirteen step on me," she warned, "I will be done with you."

He shivered at the tone and look in her eye and nodded. "N—no way. I wouldn't do that."

"Good, because two fracture beings can't make a whole being, let alone two. You have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too." He looked down at the card and the delicate print, feeling hope about this program for the first time since he entered the room. Maybe he did have a chance. If he stuck by her, did right by her then he could do the same for everyone else in his life. He could be a good role model for his nephew by the time he was old enough to remember stuff. He would fucking love that. To be looked up to and be seen as a good person without any hesitation. He'd heard the pauses in Daryl's speeches when he tried to cheer him up, saw the doubt in his eyes, and he had earned that. He couldn't feel bad about it, because he did. He earned those pauses and doubts, but now…this was his chance to prove Daryl right, to prove himself wrong, to prove to the world that Dixon wasn't automatically associated with jail time and drugs and drinking and abuse. That it was just a last name with no power.

He tucked the card into his wallet and nodded his head. Let's do this right, he thought to himself. Let's do this right and build something good from it.

Carol shook a toy in front of Clay's face, he reached for it, and she let him have it. She kissed his hair and told him she loved him, and she heard feet on the steps. She looked up and saw it was Lori holding a bag of chips and a plate of sandwiches. She sat down on the rug beside Carol and her nephew, offering the grilled cheeses she'd made for dinner, and Carol accepted.

"Life sucks right now." She ate a nacho corn chip and shook her head. "And they expect us to act like nothing is wrong. Like this is super rad, and we're just gonna fall in line."

"Right?" Carol nodded and offered a piece of grilled cheese to her son. "It's total bull."

"I mean, with your pregnancy, it brought us all together. We had to work together as a team to raise Clay, and we all became closer, right?" Carol nodded and fed Clay. "And this pregnancy is tearing us all apart. It isn't fair. Why couldn't she use basic protection?" Lori paused and paled. "Do you think she wanted this?"

Carol swallowed hard. She hadn't considered that. She thought maybe this was an accident—a broken condom, a missed pill, a quickie with the pull-out method—but she hadn't considered that this was intentional on Mom's part. That she wanted more children was always apparent. She would stare little kids at the playground with a sort of longing that spoke to wounds Carol didn't know about at that age that now made sense, and she was a teacher for God's sake. You had to have a love of children and learning, and Mom had both, so it sort of made sense that she would try and have a child with the man she loved.

"It makes sense," Lori whispered. "Doesn't it?"

"It does." Carol nodded and pulled her son onto her lap, frowning. "I need a hug, bug."

"Yeah, I think I need a drink." Lori blew out a sigh. "We were never enough for her."

Carol lifted her head. "I don't think that's true."

"Well, I do." Lori felt like a second-hand doll that had finally been replaced by a new and shiny Barbie doll. "I hate her."

"No, you don't."

"Then I hate him."

"Lori."

"Well, I hate someone!" She punched the floor and shook her head. "It's not fair. We didn't want this. Dad didn't want this. Only Mom and Ty did, and they couldn't wait one measly year until we were in college and out of the house? Would it really have killed them to shake up our lives later, once we had control over them?"

"I know how disappointing this is, but I don't think…." She sighed and shook her head. "Well, I don't know what I think."

"I know exactly what to think, and I'm done with Mom." She exhaled. "I'm just done with her and her "choices". I'll stay right here with you and Dad and Clay. Fuck her."

"Hey, language around my little man." Carol cupped her hands to his ears, and Lori apologized. "Thank you. And pass the chips."

"Here." She handed the bag over and lied back. "I am so…full of fire, and I need to let off some steam."

"Why don't we just sit here and talk it out?" Carol smoothed down Clay's hairs. "I can call Daryl to come get Clay, and we can just talk all night."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. You're my sister. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled. "I'd love to do that."

"I'll call Daryl then." She grabbed her phone from beside her on the floor and pulled up his contact information. "You're gonna spend some time with Daddy, okay, baby?"

He looked up at her with big blue eyes and babbled at her.

"Yea, with Daddy." She smiled and listened to the phone ringing.

Lori exhaled and stared at the ceiling, knowing Tyreese was still in the house and feeling like nothing above them mattered. It was just trying to crumble down and crush them. She wouldn't let it. She would vent and rant and punch a pillow to let off some steam, but she wouldn't let the weight of their parent and Tyreese's fuck up crush her. She wasn't going to be a big sister. She wasn't going to be anything more than what she was right now. Forget the baby. Forget her mother. Forget all of it.

She rolled over and tried not to cry, because the emotions welling up inside of her wanted to rip her apart. Apparently, that started with her eyes, and there was no way to escape the little bastard tears that slipped out. She shivered and wished she could disappear. She wanted to vanish from the world and not deal with the fallout that was crumbling down around them. Decisions were being made tonight, and soon they would have a choice to make. She said she chose Dad and Carol and Clay, but honestly…she wanted to chose nothing. She wanted everything to stay the same until she was in college and had no ties to Karen and Tyreese and their lovechild. God, why couldn't this have waited until she was older? On her own and not as affected by this mistake?

Carol told Daryl she would see him soon and hung up, reaching over and touching Lori's arm, and Lori flung herself into Carol's lap, which was partly filled with Clay, and she grasped his little thigh for comfort. Carol stroked her hair and told her it'd be all right. But honestly, she had no way of knowing. It was…going to be a difficult and long night, and she hoped they made it out all right, but they were just two kids. They had no way of handling all these changes. Clay was one thing, but this baby? This potentially accidental baby? It was a ticking bomb, and no one in this family would be unaffected by its explosion.