A/N: Hey all and happy Walking Dead Day! I know it's been quite a while since I last updated this story however I've been working two jobs and putting in about 50 a week so my writing time has been cut down quite a bit. The time that I have had to write has been sporadic at best but I'm hoping that with the few days off I have this coming week that I could crank out another chapter soon. For those wondering where Claire is, I promise she'll be making an appearance in the near future. Let me know your thoughts on the way out.
Chapter 4
"One of these days one or both of you are gonna end up dead; ya gotta stop doing stupid shit like this so damn much! I ain't asking for neither of you to change who you are but I am asking that you lay off the drugs."
"I've been cutting back! The hell you want me to do next? Quit drinking?"
"Anger management would be a more acceptable alternative but if you wanna quit drinking that one's on you. Daryl, I know you've been cutting back, and I appreciate that, I just wish your effort and hard work would rub off on Merle. Do you have any idea how…un-nerving it is to have a tweaker park their ass on my porch and just start shooting heroine like it was nothing while you two were out and about?"
"Call the cops?"
"Yeah, Roger picked him up. Guy said he was waiting for Merle to get back. I just don't want to see either of you in an early grave because of drugs."
"Look here missy, I ain't gonna just lay in this damn bed and listen to you shoot a bunch of crap outta your mouth. You ain't a real Dixon, ya ain't gonna tell us what to do or how to live our lives. If we wanna do something then dammit, we're gonna do it, damn the consequences. I'll concede and tell the others never to go back to your nice, little love shack, but I ain't quitting for nothing or nobody. The day I do Hell better have froze over."
The three of us were gathered in a room of the hospital surrounding a bed Merle was laid up in. He OD'd again and Claire found him on the kitchen floor; she had just gotten home from work. She was a wreck when I got the call, she was crying so damn much I couldn't understand a damn word she was saying, it was nothing short of dumb luck that I managed to pick out the words "Merle," "overdose," and "hospital." After that one of the guys working on him got on the line and told me which hospital they were taking him to.
By the time I got to the hospital, doctors were working on getting him stabilized and Claire was trying to think straight enough to fill out his admission papers. An hour ago we were put into a room and waited for someone to tell us what the hell was going on. Claire sure as shit wasn't any help, tried to get an answer from her and all she did was sit there in a shaking stupor.
"He's still in critical condition but the prognosis is looking better than when he first got here," the doctor came in with a chart, closing the door behind 'em.
"The hell happened? I was at work and she ain't no help."
"Mr. Dixon, you can't really blame her for being in such a state of shock. From what I was able to ascertain she found your brother, dead, on the kitchen floor with a needle in his arm and a strap wrapped around his upper arm. It may be a sight you're accustomed to seeing but not everyone has had the pleasure of being greeted by a dead body when they get home from work."
Man, I feel like a dick…
"If anything, you owe her a sincere apology later when you leave for cocking an attitude like that. We're going to be moving your brother to a room in the next hour or so once he fully stabilizes. My suggestion to you, get him into a good rehab facility and make sure he stays there until he's completed the program."
The doctor left the room before I could get a word in edge-wise and left the door open, more or less telling us that we needed to leave the conference room and play the waiting game. That dickhead did make a couple of good points: 1) Claire does deserve some sort of apology on my part and 2) Merle does need to get into rehab. Problem is, is that he has to want to quit.
Here we are, an hour and two cardiac needles to the heart later, sitting in a white-walled room of a hospital that's more than familiar with Merle's drug history. Merle was sitting up in bed, basking in all the attention the nurses were giving him, proudly showing off the burn marks leftover from where they used the paddles on him.
"Did they tell ya I died on the table twice? Used them paddles and shocked my ass back from the dead, third time jammed them real long needles in my heart? Guess Nikki Sixx had it right when he wrote that song. What was it called again?" It was damn quiet not even the crickets were making noise. "C'mon Claire, humor me!"
"Kickstart my heart. This really isn't funny Merle."
Of course Merle had to find something to laugh about in a situation like this; he always needed something to laugh at no matter what the situation was. Thank God we were all saved by her phone ringing. She got up from her chair, phone in hand, and left the room with the door slamming shut behind her.
"The hell crawled up her ass?"
"Not everyone is used to finding a dead body on the floor when they get home. Thought ya said you'd quit doing that shit in the house? We give you the food off our table and this is how ya thank us?! Don't ev-"
"Don't you start on me now little brother otherwise you're gonna end up in the bed next to me, understand? 'Sides you ought to know me better than that; was only saying that shit so that bitch would quit crawling up my damn ass. She's worse than mom ever was or maybe you don't remember."
"I remember running home after seeing the fire trucks drive past us and watching the house go up in flames like a piece of dried out wood. I remember them pulling mom's body outta the house; they tried to get me to look away but I saw what was left of her. That's what I remember about mom. Ya ever think that maybe mom was on ya to quit 'cause she didn't want ya to end up like Will? Ya ever think Claire's on your ass 'cause she don't ever wanna see ya like that again? Damn doc's got a point, it ain't normal for people to just find a dead body on the kitchen floor. Can't say how many times I came home and found ya passed out, close to dead, or actually dead on the couch with a needle in your arm. Shit ain't right! I shouldn't have to come home to that after a long day! And ya need to quit with all this bullshit about Claire not being a real Dixon. We ain't married, ain't ever gonna be so just fucking quit!"
Neither of us ever heard the doorknob turning or sound of door clicking shut, we were too busy screaming at each other to even notice that Claire had come back into the room. Her back was to the door as she quietly observed the shouting match we were engaged in.
"One of these days one of you is gonna wind up dead and the other will have no one to lean on. All the booze and drugs in the world will only ever be enough to numb the pain. When you sober up, you'll realize that you're all alone in this world and the one person who actually gave a fuck about the Dixon boys will have left a long time ago.
"Don't say a fucking word Merle! Daryl, if you wanna keep breathing you shut your fucking mouth too! I ain't trying to be a Dixon, sure as shit ain't asking to be one. All I'm asking is that while you were guests in my house that you respect my rules. Merle, your shit will be in the yard when you get out, don't ever plan on coming back. Daryl, you wanna go running back to the trailer park with him, I'll set your things out too. I didn't force you to move in with me, I gave you a choice because I knew you didn't want to be there in the first place. I'm going home, the two of you think about what I said."
"How ya getting back?"
"I got two feet, I can walk. I know my way home."
"Shouldn't be out there by yourself this time of night."
"Not the first time I've walked home by myself this time of night."
If I knew how right she was all those years ago I wouldn't have let her walk out of the hospital by herself. She put both mine and Merle's shit out on the lawn, changed the locks, and wouldn't speak to me for weeks. When she'd come into the shop all she did was grunt, guess that was one of those quirks she got from me.
Here I am, sitting in the back of some box truck with a cop, a Chinaman, and a nigger. Using one of the rags I took from the shop I continued wiping blood off the arrows just to keep my hands busy. However, the closer we got to Atlanta, the more anxious I got. Who's to say that Merle was even still alive on that rooftop after baking in the sun all day yesterday? Sons of bitches probably didn't even leave him any water.
The truck was slowly coming to a stop after a long, bumpy ass ride. Riding over the train tracks was just making the pounding in my head worse. There was a 50-50 chance that Merle was either dead or alive.
"He better be okay, that's my only word on the matter."
"I told you, the geeks can't get at him. Only thing that's gonna get through that door is us."
Somehow though, I didn't believe a word of what he was saying. Wiping some of the sweat away from my lips, the Chinaman caught my attention as he shut the truck off saying that we'd walk from the tracks. Throwing open the door I hopped out and jogged down the tracks with the others in tow with only one mission in mind despite the cop's need for some bag of guns he dropped.
"Merle first or guns?"
"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!"
"We are! You know the geography, it's your call."
"Merle's closest, the guns'll be doubling back. Merle first."
At least the Chinaman's got the right idea, can't believe that stupid prick would think about his worthless bag of guns over my brother! Nowadays people are more important than guns, you need people to make sure the dead stay dead. Popping off rounds left and right will just cause a bunch of unwanted attention.
First they handcuff my brother to a roof, then they fucking leave him there, now they think guns are more important?
Can this day get any fucking worse?
It wasn't that hard locating the department store, if there were any geeks in there from yesterday they had mostly cleared out or lost interest. We got in through the back; guess when they backed the truck up to the roll-top doors they just left 'em open and got the hell out of there as quick as they could. Sneaking through the first floor with these three morons was easier than I thought it'd be. The cop, when he spotted one, held up his hand to stop the group then pointed the one out to me.
"Damn, you are one ugly skank." Raising the bow I fired off a shot between the eyes before it could take another step forward, watching as it fell backwards before quickly retrieving the arrow, wiping the blood on my pant leg.
We followed the Chinaman throughout the store until we go to the stairwell leading to the roof. It didn't matter who had the bolt cutters, all that mattered was getting the lock off and making sure Merle was still alive. All I could see was a hand yank the broken chain down as I raised my foot to kick the door open.
"Merle! Merle!" All that was left was a hand, he was gone and I was alone. "No! No!" Looking back at the other three I knew they had to feel some kind of guilt for what they did to my brother. It was their fault that my brother's gone.
I did what I could to keep from crying knowing that if Merle could see me now he'd be cackling his damn head off at me. Either that or calling me a damn pussy and to quit my boo-hoo'ing. This must be what Claire meant all those years ago when she said that we only had each other. Merle was unstoppable, nobody could kill him except him.
Nobody.
"One of these days one of you is gonna wind up dead and the other will have no one to lean on. All the booze and drugs in the world will only ever be enough to numb the pain. When you sober up, you'll realize that you're all alone in this world and the one person who actually gave a fuck about the Dixon boys will have left a long time ago."
As I stood on the rooftop of an abandoned store my grief suddenly turned to rage and I did the only thing I could think to do. Pointing my bow at the face of the man who dropped the damn key, my finger twitched against the trigger as my brain fought to tell me it was the wrong thing to do. A gun cocking against the side of my own head had me shifting my attention to the cop.
"I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it."
Dropping the bow I stole a moment for myself before I spoke knowing full well if I didn't I'd say something I'd probably regret later on.
"You got a doo-rag or something?" He produced a blue one and I took it from him without much fuss. Another shaky breath let loose as I dropped to one knee to pick up what was left of my brother.
"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs." Picking his hand up by the pinky, I carefully inspected the cut. "Ain't that a bitch." Once his hand was safely wrapped up, I motioned for the Chinaman to turn around, stuffing the hand into his bag. Picking up my bow I saw the blood trail leading away from the pipe. "He must've used a tourniquet, maybe his belt. There'd be much more blood if he didn't."
Following the trail towards another door, I stepped through, poking my head around a row of lockers to make sure it was clear. The stairs were just within view and once on the landing I peered over the edge to see if anyone or anything could be found.
"Merle! You in here?!"
Silence.
I continued talking the scenario out, trying to figure out what he did and how he did it. It didn't matter if the others heard me or not, it was all I could do to keep from tearing someone's head off. We swept through the halls, clearing away the geeks as we happened upon them.
"Had enough in him to take these two son of a bitches. One-handed. Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."
"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is."
Our journey through the department store led us from the rooftop through some office space (probably belonging to some jackass in a suit) and through the kitchens. It was the smell that caught our attention most of all.
"Merle!"
"We're not alone here. Remember?"
"Screw that. He could be bleeding out, you said so yourself."
His belt and some burners were lit but the smell? God that smell brought back horrible memories of mom. It's sometimes easy to forget how badly burnt the house was when the fire department finally put it out but I'll never forget how bad mom's body smelled when they pulled it from the crumbling structure. The hair on her head was singed however the smell of burnt flesh had my stomach turning, so much so that I ended up puking in the grass.
Here it is again, staring me in the face only this time it was Merle's skin stuck to some kind of press, maybe a bacon press to help keep it flat while they were frying it.
"What's that burnt stuff?"
Leave it to the Chinaman to ask a stupid question…
"Skin."
Ding, ding, ding, right again Officer Friendly. At least someone in this group has half a brain.
"He cauterized the stump."
"Told ya he was tough, ain't nobody can kill Merle 'cept Merle."
"Don't take that on faith, he's lost a lot of blood."
"Yeah?" I started, noticing that the window to my left was broken out, "didn't stop him from busting outta this death trap."
"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?"
Leaning against the open window I looked out on the alley below and notice that it was free from walkers. Any noise he made in breaking the glass either wasn't enough to attract any further attention or he took 'em out on his way outta here. The bloody rag laying against the ledge, he probably used that to help suppress the sound of the glass breaking, and to protect his fresh stump. Son of a bitch is probably hurting bad, adrenaline can only take you so far.
"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows. Doing what he's gotta do, surviving." Pushing away from the ledge I led the way from the kitchen, a sense of urgency rushing into my veins as the need to find him became greater.
"You call that surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"
"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." I turned to Officer Friendly as he continued to keep his silence. "You couldn't kill 'im. Ain't so worried about some dumb, dead bastard."
"What about a thousand dumb, dead bastards? Different story?"
"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'mma go get 'im."
That's when I snapped. I tried to move past Officer Friendly so I could go find Merle, I was a man on a mission so to speak and the asshole had the nerve to put his hands on me. Claire had it right when she said that one of these days it'd just be me and him. I lost her and I wasn't about to lose my brother.
Even if he did call me a pussy afterwards.
"Daryl wait."
"Getcha hands off me! You can't stop me!"
"I don't blame you. He's family, I get that; I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. He can't get far with that injury, we can help you check a few blocks around only if we keep a level head."
"I can do that." I conceded.
Then he looked at him as he leaned up against the wall, still can't believe he came here. Hell, if Merle were still on that roof and saw him, I'd be willing to bet that he'd rip Officer Friendly's gun from his holster and shoot him between the eyes. He'd probably bring every geek in the city down on us for it but he'd be justified in what he did.
"Only if we get those guns first, I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"
Good intentions my ass! Claire had good intentions when she gave me a job, put food in my stomach, and a roof over my head. But this guy? What the fuck were his good intentions? Leave a man, my brother, handcuffed to a roof and let him bake to death then hope that I'd be understanding and prepared to forgive him?
Fuck that shit!
