AN: Here we are, another chapter here!
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl tried to follow Carol as they stepped into the crowded cabin where some people were arriving to eat while others were leaving. Merle and Andrea had told them little else, when they'd come to wake them, beyond the fact that there were multiple breakfast shifts and they'd make the late one together.
T-Dog got swept into the crowd up ahead and easily slipped into a line that was forming for finding a seat. Andrea and Carol, too, practically got swept away when someone who recognized Andrea dragged them toward some predetermined spot.
Daryl turned when he felt fingers wrap around the upper part of his arm.
"Come sit with me, lil' brother," Merle said. "Got me a table right over there."
Merle's invitation sounded more like an expectation than an invitation, so Daryl followed him. T-Dog could handle himself, and so could Carol. It might do them all some good to have a little distance from one another.
Besides, the only parts of their story that they really needed to rehearse had been run through a couple of times that morning while the three of them were waiting for Merle and Andrea to finish getting ready. T-Dog knew just enough to keep him from putting his foot in his mouth, and Carol and Daryl thought they were pretty well prepared to pull off convincing the crowd that they were married.
Daryl followed Merle to the little two-person table in the corner that Merle led him to. They sat down and Daryl looked around.
"Crowded," Daryl said.
"Three meal shifts at each meal," Merle said. "It's always crowded unless you the night crew. Their meals is a little lighter."
"This your table?" Daryl asked. "You always liked shit like that."
"Shit like what?" Merle asked.
"A certain table in a certain place," Daryl said. "Eat in the same damn spot. Sit in the same damn spot at home, too."
Merle laughed to himself.
"Like this spot," Merle said. "I can see every damn thing that goes on in here. There ain't no surprises from where I'm sittin'. Can pick out a fight if it's about to happen, too."
"Have a lot of fights around here?" Daryl asked.
"Enough," Merle said. "Especially when people are just comin' off the road. Too damn rowdy. Have to get used to a new set of rules. Laws. And a whole fuckin' lotta people. It's a shock sometimes, after you been out there."
Daryl glanced around. The room was crowded, but nobody looked like they were getting ready to fight or even like they wanted to fight. Everyone seemed to be in pretty good spirits. Of course, Daryl was sure the mood was different at different times of day.
There were people shuffling about, putting down plates and glasses and water pitchers—and everything else that someone might need for the morning meal.
"We go get our food somewhere?" Daryl asked.
"Nah," Merle said. "They gonna get around to us, quick as they can."
"Wouldn't it be faster?" Daryl asked. "I mean—if we was to get it ourselves? Then there ain't nobody that's gotta wait on us."
"This ain't a system that was made yesterday, Daryl," Merle said. "Shit was in place when I took over. They tried it the other way—everyone goin' buffet style to fix their plates—but it got outta hand. They was people hoggin' food, bitchin' about portions 'cause they was tryin' to eyeball every plate around 'em. People was bumpin' into each other, knockin' plates outta hands. You know how the hell that is. Goes downhill real damn quick an' the next thing you know, one fucker's done broke another fucker's jaw over cornbread an' milk."
"How many people's here?" Daryl asked.
"Total?" Merle asked. He immediately turned his attention to the young woman, who was probably little more than a child, who put a plate down in front of him. "Thank ya, sugar."
"You're welcome, Merle," she said with a smile. She put a plate down in front of Daryl, too, and he thanked her. His reply from her was not as sugary sweet as the reply she'd saved for Merle. The leader, he assumed, had something of a status around the place. She put down silverware for the both of them. "Elizabeth's coming with the water," she said. "Did you want coffee?"
"Two," Merle said.
"Two cream, two sugar?" The girl asked. Merle smiled and winked at her.
"You know it," he said. "McKenzie, this here's my brother, Daryl. Daryl—this here is McKenzie. She's one of the best people we got on the kitchen staff."
The girl beamed at the compliment and Daryl swallowed down his humor. He cleared his throat.
"Nice to meet you," Daryl offered.
"How do you like your coffee, Mr. Daryl?" McKenzie asked.
Daryl pegged the girl at fourteen, maybe. She was definitely no older than sixteen. She was still trying to grow into her own body.
"You got cream?" He asked. She hummed and nodded. "Just cream's fine with me," he said.
"Lot of it," Merle said. "Daryl likes his coffee like dirty milk."
Their water came before McKenzie could leave the table, and then they were suddenly alone with their breakfast.
"What is this place, Merle?" Daryl mused.
"This here is the Cedar Falls Community," Merle said. "Damn near paradise, baby brother. Gettin' better every fuckin' day. And I'ma make damn sure don't nothin' fuck with that."
"How many people's here?" Daryl asked.
"I don't headcount 'em," Merle said. "Hundred. Hundred and fifty? Give or take. We got some in and out."
"Why the hell would you have any out if it's paradise?"
"Didn't say they always left on their own," Merle said. "Some don't make it. Things ain't changed that much. Still—there's some that get put out. The vision for this place don't allow for certain types around here."
"Vision?" Daryl asked with a snort. "Since when do you sit around talkin' about vision, Merle?"
"I got a lotta damn vision, Daryl," Merle said. "Never mattered before, though. What the hell was I gonna do with vision before, brother? You can't do shit with shit."
Daryl's stomach sunk. His brother wasn't exactly lying. In the world before all this, it would have never done either of them a world of good to have too much ambition. They had to crawl out the hole created by their parents just to start at the bottom of the proverbial food chain.
But here, nobody knew Rooster Dixon. Here, nobody knew how much trouble Merle had stayed in as a kid. Nobody knew that Daryl had never held down a decent job for more than couple months because something always pissed the boss off—and nine times out of ten, Daryl was sure it was some asshole he worked with running and telling stories on his ass.
Nobody knew that neither one of them had ever had a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, or that they'd been pretty much seen as failures from the moment they were born just because of the circumstances surrounding their somewhat unfortunate existences.
Here, they didn't carry all that weight. Here, they weren't who they used to be. Here, they could start again. They could all start again.
"What kinda vision you got, brother?"
"Keep growin'," Merle said. "Not like I'ma take over the damn world or nothin'. Just so we always got enough for anybody wants to come in here. We're buildin' the future an' we ain't fuckin' around. Don't tolerate bullshit. You either workin' for us or you workin' against us. Buildin' something we can be proud of. Some shit that our kids can be proud of—a place that makes people still wanna have kids because they can believe it ain't the end like we thought it was."
"You the poster child for that?" Daryl asked. Merle didn't answer him immediately.
Daryl worked his way through his breakfast. He had to admit, the food wasn't bad. It might not have been the best he'd ever had, but it wasn't bad. Instead of answering Daryl, Merle thanked McKenzie when the girl brought the coffee—just the same as Daryl did—and he asked her about the possibility of a couple of the biscuits that were making their rounds ending up on their table. Before he'd hardly gotten the request out of his mouth, four of the biscuits appeared between them, wrapped in a cloth napkin.
Daryl picked one up and glanced around the room trying to find where Carol and Andrea ended up.
"You reckon everybody got biscuits?" Daryl asked.
"If they want 'em, they get 'em," Merle said. "We don't pick favorites here."
"Food's gotta run out sometime, Merle," Daryl said. "Even if it's just until the next meal."
"Said we don't pick favorites," Merle said. "Not that I was able to divide the damn loaves and fishes for all of eternity. Shit runs out a lot. We still struggling. Got gardens and livestock and workin' on greenhouses as we speak. Go huntin' and there's fruit trees. Got scavenger parties that go out damn near every day. Supplies are really startin' to build up now. Winter ain't gonna be so lean as they seen in the past, but it don't mean that shit don't run low sometimes. Still—there's a vast damn improvement over the way things were when I took over this place—too damn much favoritism. It was the first thing I done away with."
"I was gonna save Carol my biscuits if she ain't got none," Daryl said. "I don't see her."
Merle laughed to himself.
"She's around the corner. Other room," Merle said. "When Andrea wants to cluck with all the rest of the lil' hens around here, that's where they go. Don't worry about Carol. Swole up like she is? She's got biscuits if she wants 'em. She'da got 'em first."
"I thought you didn't pick favorites," Daryl said.
"Feedin' the ones who need it most first ain't pickin' favorites," Merle said. "It's doin' what the hell we oughta do. As far as I heard it from the doctors, they've lost a lot of little babies and shit from malnutrition. We got a goal to see some make it through."
"Andrea really pregnant?" Daryl asked.
"That's what they tell us," Merle said. He smiled to himself. "About the size of a jelly bean, so Alice said."
"Do I congratulate you, or was it more of a shotgun situation?" Daryl asked.
Merle snorted.
"Weren't exactly planned," Merle said. "But it weren't exactly not planned, neither."
"Then congratulations," Daryl said.
"Save it for later," Merle said. "Spend some of it on Andrea."
Daryl washed down a large bite of the biscuit with his creamy coffee. It had been a long time since there were decent milk products to be had. It had been a while, too, since he'd tasted a fresh biscuit. He felt almost like Carol had been the night before.
"This is damn good," he commented.
Merle laughed across the table.
"That's the reason I ain't lettin' no damn body fuck this place up," Merle said. "It's the little things. And we got 'em here. Workin' for something when you see the payoff? It's somethin' else. Tastin' the spoils of our labor."
"You got people tryin' to fuck somethin' this good up?" Daryl asked.
"They's always people that want what you got, brother," Merle said.
"Why not just be part of it and have it?" Daryl asked.
"Because they's also always people that don't wanna work for shit," Merle said. "Wanna run into somethin' like this, take it, and drag it down in the damned mud."
"I just don't understand," Daryl said. "Last time I saw you, it was before that run in Atlanta. When they come back, they said you were up on that roof. We went back for you. You were already gone."
"Not all of me, though," Merle said. He laughed to himself and raised up the metal covered stump before he rested his elbow on the table. "Shit, Daryl—I don't wanna talk about it all right now. It ain't breakfast conversation. More like—what you talk about over a beer or twelve."
Daryl shook his head.
"I never thought I'd be drinkin' a beer with you again, Merle," Daryl said.
Merle smirked at him.
"You ask me about mine," Merle said. "Now I wanna know about yours. What's the story behind you an' that lil' Mouse you got?"
"Mouse?" Daryl asked.
"See—the last damn time I seen her? She was all creepin' 'round the rock quarry like a little mouse. Scared to death of everything."
"She was mostly scared of one thing," Daryl offered. "Hell—even more than the Walkers."
"So, you just ain't gonna tell me shit?" Merle asked.
"You didn't really tell me shit neither, Merle," Daryl offered. Merle set his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Daryl. Daryl couldn't help but feel amused.
"I told you about my fuckin' vision," Merle said.
"OK, then you get like one question," Daryl said.
"You said you married her," Merle said. Daryl hummed. "When the hell that seed get planted, boy?"
Daryl focused on his biscuit. He used it to round up what was left of his grits and scrambled eggs onto his fork—all mixed together—and he washed down the large mouthful with coffee to give himself a moment.
"Atlanta," Daryl said.
Merle chuckled.
"With her husband there?" Merle asked. "Damn, boy! You kill the sorry bastard?"
"Shoulda," Daryl said. "Didn't. Didn't get the chance. He pissed Shane off. Got his ass kicked. Then he got eat by Walkers."
"And that bellyful?" Merle asked.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders.
"Come around some time in there," Daryl said.
"Well—I'm proud of you," Merle said. "Fuckin' hell—I damn sure am! I wondered if you'd ever find you a piece you liked more'n your damned socks."
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl snapped.
"Take it easy, brother," Merle said. "Andrea said you was close. Tight. Said you did all you could to save that kid of hers."
"I had to," Daryl said. "Couldn't just—give up on her. Not even look for her."
"Andrea just didn't say that you was bangin' her ma," Merle said. "Fuck—already growin' another damned Dixon by then. Shit, lil' brother."
"I ain't knowed it," Daryl said. "So, neither did Andrea."
"Didn't know you was fuckin' her?" Merle asked.
"Didn't know about the kid," Daryl said. "Wouldn't nobody have knowed about us. It was a secret. There's such a damn thing as bein' discrete, Merle."
"What the hell happened with Officer Friendly?" Merle asked. "The rest of the ole gang?"
"Weren't you the one said we oughta hold onto shit for sharin' a beer, Merle?" Daryl asked. "Besides—I got shit to do today. We got a lot of supplies. Prob'ly like eight fuckin' loads in our pickup that we left parked out in the woods. Maybe more if you wanna pick clean some shit we ain't got around to. There's plenty of shit—for us and to share. But we gotta go get it. Would be better to do it early. Gonna take a while and that might give us some time to get settled."
Merle laughed.
"Eat that last biscuit, Daryl," he said. "We'll find you a place to settle your ass down."
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AN: Also, if you're a Mandrea fan, hop over to YouTube and look up gracefull mess. Watch her amazing new Mandrea video!
(She also has some pretty incredible Caryl videos, so if you haven't seen those, you might want to check those out. The Mandrea is a present for me, though, so I want to share it with as many people as possible!)
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to tell me what you thought!