AN: Here we go, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"How long?" Sadie asked.
Alice walked with her arm around the upper part of Sadie's arm. It had little to do with controlling the woman and much to do with being able to easily signal to her if she needed to communicate with her. Merle walked just a little off to Alice's other side. She wasn't missing the fact that there were guards, outside the fences, that were watching them. She also wasn't going to pretend that she didn't know that the guards—and probably anyone else who saw her or knew what she was doing—thought she could possibly be insane for escorting two of the "Wilds" outside the fences of their secure zone without the assistance of a guard.
Alice stopped their forward progress again and Sadie turned toward her. At the moment, it was the only way that she could communicate with Sadie. They had to stop what they were doing and Alice had to speak to her directly. One day she imagined she might learn sign language, or they might work out something else, but for the moment they were working with what they had.
Alice, admittedly, felt a little inadequate.
"How long?" Alice asked. She didn't want to tell Sadie that whatever else went with the question had been asked inside her head. Sadie just nodded at her, though, like the question stood alone perfectly well. Alice sucked in a breath and tried to figure out what it might be in reference to. She scanned her short term memory for anything that they'd been talking about since she'd retrieved the two from their house. "To know if you're pregnant? It's going to depend on you more than anything. If—even if you were ovulating? It would take time to show up, even on a blood test."
"Not what she's asking about, Doc," Merle pointed out.
Alice glanced at him.
"Care to clarify?" Alice asked him.
"I think she knows how the hell to make babies," Merle said. "She made five of the damn things before she even got here. Wants to know how damn long before we get out the pen."
Alice chewed her lip.
"Five minutes and we'll be at the clinic," she offered. "That's the best I can offer."
"No," Merle said. "How fucking long before we get the hell outta here for good. How fuckin' long before they take the damn dog collars off our fuckin' necks like we're damn Rottweilers? 'Fore they give us enough damn food to live off? And fuckin' spoons and shit to eat the food with?"
Alice swallowed.
"They're still not giving you enough food?" She asked.
"Enough to not die," Merle said. "But if she's gonna throw a pup, I'ma have to give her my food to do it. And we eat everything we get with our hands. Lap it out the damn plates like the dogs they're treatin' us like we is."
Alice's blood ran a little cold in her veins. She knew that there was something of a "different way of life" going on inside what Merle called "the pen" because the guards that had come from the maximum security prisons were still mostly handling that area. She didn't realize, though, that it was as extreme as it was—even if she had some suspicions. And it was clear that Merle was starting to lose his cool about it. His anger was palpable.
"I don't know exactly how long it's going to take," Alice said. "I really don't. But—what I can tell you is that you two? You're the closest to getting out. If you continue like you are? You'll get out soon. We'll move you into one of the other houses outside of the security zone. You can choose to stay together or—we can split you up. At least, I'm sure they'll let you be split up if Sadie's pregnant."
"What?" Sadie asked, trying to get Alice's attention. Apparently she hadn't caught everything that Alice had said to Merle because the angle hadn't been quite right.
"What makes you think we wanna be split?" Merle asked.
Alice half-shrugged her shoulders.
"You aren't happy," she said. "And I just thought that might be part of it."
"You think we're splitting the fuck up?" Merle asked, his temper clearly rising a bit more. Alice instinctively shushed him so that they wouldn't draw any unwanted attention from the guards. He looked around quickly and apparently figured out why she had requested he lower his voice. "Don't want to split up," he growled. "Especially not if she's knocked up. I ain't bein' studded out. We wanna eat like fucking human beings. Enough we ain't starvin' for every damn meal when it comes and we wanna eat with some damn forks and spoons and shit. I ain't got a damn problem with eating with my hands sometimes—but hell, if I'm eating oatmeal? I wanna do it with a damn spoon, not lickin' it out a bowl that I can't even hold proper. Gotta have damn Sadie help feed me—help hold the damn bowl good—if I'm eatin' every bit of it. That ain't no damn good for me."
Alice closed her eyes for a moment just to block out everything around her. She had reached a point where she didn't feel like she could say "this isn't my job". She couldn't even say that she knew what her job was anymore. Originally her job had been just to watch out for the medical care of the people there—take care of their ailments, help them heal from any injuries, and make sure that any babies that were born were born safely. Beyond that? Her responsibilities were to Milton and the medical tests that he needed run for the project.
Now, it seemed, she'd somehow fallen into a number of jobs that she'd never been actually assigned.
"I will bring it up," Alice said. "I will—bring it up and I'll find out when you can get moved. You're both cooperating and you've both got a clean record. Some of the others are not quite as cooperative. So—you just keep doing what you're doing? Stay on your absolute best behavior? And I'll—I'll bring it up. I'll get you moved."
Merle reached around Alice and bumped Sadie's shoulder with his hand. She was looking at both of them with an expression that fell somewhere between confusion and disgust. She relaxed her expression a little, though, when she focused on Merle.
"Gonna get us moved," Merle said. "Soon. Just don't fuck with nobody. Get us moved. Get us eating normal. More food. Spoons and forks and shit."
"And?" Sadie asked. To illustrate her point, she ran her finger under the metal band that wrapped around her throat.
Merle turned his attention to Alice.
"The damn collars," Merle said. "Want 'em off."
Alice nodded her head.
"I'll see what I can do about them too," Alice said. "They think they need them to control you. But—maybe if I can convince them that you don't need to be controlled, they'll take them off."
Merle bumped Sadie's shoulder again.
"Gonna get 'em off," he said.
Sadie looked relieved. The relief quickly gave way to a smile and she nodded at him. She nodded at Alice too, the smile widening a little.
"OK!" She said with more enthusiasm behind the word than was really necessary.
Alice wished she had half the confidence in herself, and her abilities to actually do anything in a place where she was simply an employee, that Merle and Sadie seemed to have in her.
"Come on," Alice said with a sigh. "We've got to get to the clinic. We're out here too long and they're going to start getting suspicious."
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Daryl's stomach was in knots and he apparently wasn't doing a great job at hiding it. Carol must have sensed it because she moved closer to him, wrapped her arms around his like she was hugging his arm, and walked with him to the clinic. His first reaction was almost to shake her off as they passed a guard, but then his brain reminded him that they were allowed this. They were allowed to touch. They were allowed to comfort one another.
They were together, they were making a kid, and they were allowed to touch each other.
And they had a pass, so they were also allowed to walk calmly from his job to the clinic.
Instead of shrugging her off, Daryl pulled his arm free and changed his position so that he could wrap his arm around her and pull her closer to him.
"Do you know what you want to say to him?" Carol asked.
"I don't even know if it's gonna be him," Daryl said.
"It's him, Daryl," Carol said. "He knew you. He was—a lot like you described him to be."
"Just a lot?" Daryl asked.
"I think we've all changed," Carol said with a sigh. "I think we've all changed a lot. I know that I have. Maybe Merle has too. And—I told you that he's missing his hand. Alice thought he might lose more of the arm, but she took care of the infection and it seems to be healing. All of that? Everything he experience in prison? It had to change him at least a little."
Daryl's stomach churned again.
Part of his nervous feeling was coming from simply seeing his brother again. After all, he'd thought his brother was dead. He'd lived with the guilt of possibly causing his death since he'd been captured. Seeing someone come back from the dead was rattling, no matter the form they took. He didn't know, either, how Merle was going to feel about him—maybe he'd blame him for the capture. After all, Daryl hadn't turned him in, but he hadn't stopped them either. He hadn't gotten back to Merle to tell him that they were coming.
Another part of it was the fact that he knew that Merle would likely be changed. Carol was right. They were all different than they'd been once upon a time. They had all changed when they'd been forced out of their homes and lives they'd known before the turn, but they'd all changed again when they were taken into custody and turned into animals.
And, if Daryl was honest, they'd all changed again when they'd come to Woodbury and started to entertain the idea that there might be another life, entirely, in their future.
Daryl was a little afraid to see Merle changed. His brother wasn't always the easiest person to be around, but at least he'd always been a constant asshole. Seeing him changed was going to mean fully coming to terms with the fact—which Daryl knew but had never directly experienced—that people you knew could always become someone at least a little different. People could change, for better or for worse.
He just hoped that the change in his brother, whatever it might be, wouldn't be for worse.
"Gonna tell him I'm sorry," Daryl said.
"Sorry for what?" Carol asked.
"Not stopping them," Daryl said, shrugging gently. "Not gettin' back to tell him he oughta run. They was coming for him."
"It wasn't your fault," Carol said. "When they got us? None of us could save anyone. We couldn't even save ourselves."
"You don't know Merle," Daryl said. "He's gotta have someone to blame. He's always gotta have someone to blame."
"If he looks around," Carol said, "he'll find plenty of people to blame. But, Daryl? It isn't you that he needs to blame. It probably isn't you that he blames at all. He was anxious to see you too." She hummed. "What else are you going to tell him? That you missed him?"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Merle ain't one for sappy shit," Daryl said. "You don't know him, but he ain't one for that kinda shit."
"I don't know him," Carol agreed. "At least, not really, but maybe he'd still want to hear it. Maybe—not every day or all the time, but it wouldn't hurt to mention it once. Not after everything. I mean, you thought he was dead. He thought you were dead. Surely it's fine to admit that, after all these years, you missed each other and you're happy to see each other alive."
Daryl hummed.
"Maybe," he ceded.
"You don't have to know everything you're going to say right now," Carol said. "I'm sure—I'm sure it'll come to you. And—really? I'm not sure that what you say is going to matter."
Daryl hummed again.
"Think—you think I could tell him about the baby?" Daryl asked.
Carol rubbed her hand on his back.
"If you want to," she said. "If you think that—he'd like to know that. And you'd like to tell him? You could tell him. What are you going to tell him about the baby?"
Daryl shrugged again.
"Don't know," he admitted. "Just—that we're gonna have one? That he's—there? He exists? Figure—Merle oughta know that. He is my brother."
Carol laughed quietly and pushed herself in tighter to Daryl.
"If you want to tell him? Tell him," Carol said. "You're right. He's your brother. And—it's something he should know. It's something you should share with him."
