AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Making their way to the prison was slow and rather arduous. The woods were relatively thick with Walkers and, though the three of them worked their way through the creatures with relative ease, it took them more than a little time to make their way all the way back to the prison. By the time they got there, they were all filthy, much of the day had been lost, the sun was starting to hang heavy in the sky, and Daryl was certain that people had begun to at least whisper about whether or not he intended to return.
Daryl had never been happier to see the prison as he was when it finally came into view for them. The sight of it, too, seemed to give Andrea and Merle some renewed vigor because they both sped up and put a little more enthusiasm behind taking down the few Walkers that turned to come after them instead of remaining stupidly pressed against the "windbreaks" that they were too dumb to avoid.
Big Tiny was the one responsible for manning the gates at the moment. Since he knew neither Merle nor Andrea, he wasn't too impressed with the arrival of either. He did, however, seem quite pleased to see Daryl and he offered him a wide smile and some teasing as he passed inside.
"Go off leaving Carol like that," Big Tiny teased, "and you were about to come home to find yourself a single man."
Daryl glanced at Merle to find that his brother was eyeing him. He didn't say anything, but he was definitely looking at him out the corner of his eye.
He didn't have time to really say anything, though, because as soon as the gates were closed behind them and they were even a few foot inside the gates, there was a wave of people coming toward them. The reception was a little overwhelming and, admittedly, varied. Rather than try to introduce Merle and Andrea to anyone who didn't know them, and rather than try to direct any of the interactions that were taking place, Daryl did his best to try to escape the crowd.
He couldn't breathe when he was caught up in a crowd of so many people, and he could hardly hear himself think when everyone spoke all at once and with such enthusiasm.
Besides that, those he was most anxious to see already understood that he'd want to be away from the initial rush of people—and that there would be time for questions and greetings—so they met him several feet away.
Sophia reached Daryl first, freed from her mother's arms, and she ran at him.
"Daddy! Daddy! Hold me!" She barked, practically leaping toward Daryl. He was filthy, but he honestly wasn't sure if she was any less dirty than he was except for the absence of Walker mess.
"You been takin' care of your Ma?" Daryl asked, hugging his daughter's body tight against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled away from him and offered him a toothy grin.
"Yes!" She declared.
"That true?" Daryl asked, turning then to greet Carol who was watching him with Sophia, a smile on her lips, from a few steps away.
"She's been very good at taking care of me," Carol said. She opened her arms to Daryl and he stepped toward her.
"I'm filthy," he warned.
She smiled at him and closed the distance before she sunk into his arms, wrapping him and Sophia both up in a hug.
"And I love you anyway," she assured him, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
Their moment together was short-lived because it was impossible to ignore what was happening around them. A welcome kiss out of the way also meant that it became impossible for Carol to ignore the resurrection of a woman that she'd considered a friend. She took Sophia from Daryl, presumably to show her off, and Sophia went willingly. Carrying the girl, Carol made her way through the crowd to wrap her arms around Andrea, loudly declaring the same thing as everyone else—they had all believed her to be dead.
Daryl wasn't expecting it when his brother clapped him on the shoulder with a heavy hand. It appeared that the majority of the group was as interested in speaking to Andrea as they were in avoiding Merle, so he had the ability to roam freely as it pleased him. With his hand on Daryl's shoulder, Merle steered Daryl away from the group. When they were some distance away—far enough that they wouldn't be overheard, since they were very unlikely to be bothered—Merle stopped walking. For a moment he pretended to be admiring the layout of the prison yard. Then he turned and looked at Daryl.
Daryl searched his brother's face for some kind of evidence as to what he might think about Carol and their relationship, but nothing was really showing in Merle's expression.
Merle simply stared at him a moment, then he drew in a breath, let it out, and raised his eyebrows at Daryl.
"The mouse?" Merle asked.
Merle had called Carol that back at the rock quarry. He declared she was such a small thing—petite and delicate—that she reminded him of a mouse. That resemblance was only made greater by the fact that she tiptoed around her husband, at the time, to try to avoid his wrath.
Daryl simply nodded his head. Merle mirrored the action.
"You kill her husband?" Merle asked.
Daryl laughed to himself. He was equally parts surprised and not surprised that Merle would ask such a question.
"Didn't have to," he said. "Walkers done it for me."
Merle nodded his head again.
"You let him get cold first?" Merle asked, this time finally laughing.
"And then some," Daryl assured him.
"You damn near couldn't stand it when he was alive," Merle said. "I seen it back then. You watchin' her scurryin' all around the damned camp. I knew then you was wantin' a piece of that."
Daryl didn't know whether to laugh or be offended, honestly, and he felt neither emotion sincerely. He wasn't truly bothered, though, and the hint of humor on his brother's face did a great deal for helping to untwist his gut.
"Fuck you," Daryl said. "That weren't how it was at all. You ain't seen no such thing 'cause I think I'da knowed what I wanted an' didn't want."
"You didn't know what you wanted," Merle said. "But I did. 'Cause I know you, baby brother. Always have. Better'n you know yourself, sometimes."
"Andrea?" Daryl asked.
Merle smiled to himself.
Daryl swallowed. He couldn't recall having ever seen Merle smile like that. It wasn't the shit-eating grin of having "gotten" somebody or having just laid into ribbing someone. It was a genuine smile. There was no liquor behind it. There was no meth behind it. There was no chemical or substance behind it whatsoever—at least not as far as Daryl was aware. It seemed that the only thing behind that smile was a certain blonde that seemed highly unlikely as a match for Merle Dixon.
"She fuckin' hated you at the rock quarry," Daryl said. "An' you give her shit all the damned time about bein' a goody two shoes an' everything else."
Merle laughed to himself.
"Maybe I knowed I wanted a piece a' that back then, too," Merle offered. "Everybody's got their own damned way of goin' about dealin' with that kinda want. Besides—know now that she weren't interested in an asshole that was too damned outta his skull to know who he was half the damn time."
Daryl swallowed. He didn't tell Merle that he appreciated Andrea's distaste for his drug addiction and that, more than anything, he appreciated the fact that she had something grand enough to hold over Merle's head that he would actually go about getting control of something that had been out of control for far too long.
He didn't say any of it, but he hoped that nothing happened to ever break down whatever it was that was keeping Merle clean because Daryl had missed his brother—and this was a version of his brother that he probably hadn't seen in the better part of a decade.
Just for keeping him that way, Daryl would make sure that the blonde got whatever the hell she wanted or needed to keep her happy. He'd make it a personal mission, like she was his own blood, if that's what it took.
"She showed up to Woodbury," Merle said. "Half dead. Fuckin' Michonne kept vigil over her until she come back into herself. She told me everything she knew up until y'all left her ass at some farm. I even followed her instructions. Set out the day she was strong enough to trace it out on a map for me. Found that farm for the record. What the hell was left, anyway. Tried to track you but—it was fuckin' impossible. Come back an' told Andrea about it. I guess—we felt like we had a lotta shit in common. She lost her baby sister. I lost my baby brother. Maybe—we both had a lotta shit we felt—guilty about. Lotta shit we wished we'da done different."
Merle broke off for a moment and cleared his throat. Daryl busied himself with finding a cigarette, lighting it, and offering another to Merle, so that he wouldn't have to admit that his own throat was tight. It wasn't much, but it was about all that Daryl figured he could expect in the way of an apology from Merle. And, coming from a clearly sober Merle, it meant a great deal more than any drunken apology that had ever been slung in his direction before.
When Merle had puffed on his cigarette for a moment, he seemed ready to continue.
"I think for a lil' bit we was just clingin' to all the hell we had left of a past that we'd damn near forgot," Merle said. "Pissed Michonne off. Andrea said that they weren't—that there weren't nothin' between 'em, but it pissed off Michonne somethin' bad. She caught us fuckin' one day. Come in my damned apartment without knockin' an' got pissed at me for bein' there an' for fuckin' Andrea. Saw me as the enemy from the first day. Never realized I was the one that kept the Governor from havin' her nosy ass dispatched that first damned night when she got to just bein' damn hostile an' accusatory with everybody. Once she caught us fuckin', it kicked every bit a' fuckin' paranoia or whatever the hell she had into damn high gear. She got wrapped up in some personal vendetta against me an' the Governor an' the whole town of Woodbury. She was determined to make sure Andrea left with her. She went lookin' for shit. And the thing about lookin' for shit is—you bound to step in it eventually."
"That man's fucked up, though—you kinda admitted it yourself," Daryl said.
"Ain't we all?" Merle asked. "It's pick your damn poison, really. Truth is—if you stay on the good side of things, Woodbury ain't that bad. There's shit behind the scenes, but not everybody's back there. I knew what was goin' on, but I also knowed how the hell to stay safe. How the hell to really work the system there. I knowed it was safer to stay in than it was to try to get out, so I held Andrea back. Didn't let her in on what all I knowed, of course, but it didn't seem to matter to her. She stayed with me...'cause she wanted to live, probably. Remembered what it was like to damn near die outside. She begged Michonne not to go. Wanted her to stay. Michonne basically told her to go fuck herself. Said she turned her back on her. Said she was stupid for ever gettin' tangled up with the likes of me. Said she deserved ever' damn thing she got." Merle hummed. "Maybe she was right."
"Don't look to me like she's doin' too damn bad," Daryl said. "Besides—she don't seem too shook up. Maybe she just—made her choice, Merle."
"An' now we put the two cats under the same roof to hiss an' scratch at each other?" Merle asked.
"They'll make up," Daryl said. "There ain't a lotta space around here. Usually means you gotta hiss an' spit about your shit for a bit, talk it out, an' then get the fuck over it. There's hardly enough room for us an' all the shit we stockpile. There ain't room for grudges, too."
Merle nodded, but he didn't respond verbally. He took a few steps, seemed to admire the few goats that they'd managed to round up, and then turned back to look at Daryl.
"That—uh—that daughter you was tellin' me about," Merle said.
"Sophia," Daryl said, smiling to himself.
"She was the baby? Back at the—at the camp?" Merle asked.
Daryl nodded.
"Ain't she growed?" Daryl asked.
Merle laughed to himself.
"I'm surprised as shit she's still alive," Merle said.
"She's alive. She's a tough kid. Takes after her Ma. There's another kid around here, too. Rick's wife had another kid. Had her here inside the fences. There's a lotta damn people you gotta meet, Merle. An' you ain't gonna love all of 'em an' they ain't gonna all love you right away, but—like I said. They ain't room here for grudges."
Merle hummed to acknowledge that he'd heard Daryl.
"Lotta damn kids around here," Merle said. "You said—you said that'cha got another one?"
"Carol's pregnant," Daryl said. "She's—well, Hershel, he's our doctor, says that she's like goin' into her second trimester thing. So that's good. It's good an' it means the baby's doin' real good. Growin' an' all an' Carol's doin' good. Glenn and Maggie wanna get married an' then me an' Carol—we're gonna have a ceremony. Get married."
"Well, hell, brother," Merle said. "Congratulations. This whole damn place is just crawlin' with...with families an' kids an'...fuckin'...goats..."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"If you ain't an asshole about it," Daryl said, "then you never know, Merle. Might just be you sometime gettin' the whole family an' kids shit. Hell—a goat, too, if you got your heart set on it."
Daryl saw the color drain quickly from his brother's face. He was under absolutely no impression that it was the goat that had caused such a reaction from Merle Dixon.
"It ain't that way, Daryl," Merle said.
"'Cause you don't want it to be or 'cause you think she don't?" Daryl asked. Merle stared at him, but he didn't answer him. Daryl thought he could hear his brother's answer loud and clear, though. "She weren't tryin' to hide it or talk her way out of it in the woods, Merle. Looked pretty comfortable...if you ask me. Not that anybody asked me."
Merle glanced back over his shoulder and Daryl followed the glance. The group that had originally bunched up around the gates was beginning to dissipate. People were heading back toward the prison. Some spoke to each other as they walked. Daryl caught a quick glance of Sophia as she darted up the yard as fast as she could—presumably with some sort of mission in mind—and then he found Carol walking with Andrea a short distance behind everyone else.
Carol caught his eye. She offered him a smile. Then she redirected her attention to Andrea.
"Merle—I don't wanna lose what I got here," Daryl said. "Not a single damned bit of it. I wanna see my kids grow. Raise 'em up. Build this place up like we been dreamin' of doin'. You know that asshole better'n any of us. So—you tell me—what do we do? 'Cause—from where I'm standin'? It looks like you stand to lose a lot too, Merle. Maybe more'n you even know."
Merle nodded his head.
"It ain't the people of Woodbury you gotta worry about," Merle said. "They content to keep on like they goin'. Maybe—they need a lil' help gettin' somethin' goin' to have—to have what'cha got here as far as what'cha produce yourself. But—they got some shit that maybe you don't have. Could help build this place up, too. This place an' Woodbury—they don't gotta be enemies. There's good people there."
"What about the Governor?" Daryl asked.
Merle laughed to himself.
"Oh—he's gotta die, lil' brother."
"How?" Daryl asked.
"I got some ideas," Merle said. "If you think—that mouse of yours might can scratch us up somethin' to eat."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I'm sure it can be arranged," Daryl offered. "Come on—want'cha to meet my kid."