AN: Here we are, another little chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"This is mine," Daryl called out into the darkness. "Before you even start."
There was laughter. It was Merle's laughter. Merle shuffled his way across the prison yard and Daryl heard the pebbles flying this way and that—the sound of them had announced his approach in the first place. The glow of Merle's cigarette marked his presence a second after the flame of his lighter. It took another couple of moments before the orange spot floating through the air turned fully into Daryl's brother and Merle stepped into the light surrounding Daryl's small lamp.
"You always were shit at sharin', brother," Merle said. He found himself a spot to sit on the ground near Daryl with his back to the wall.
"You was always breakin' my shit," Daryl said. "So, then I didn't have it no more."
"You scared I'ma break your shit now, lil' brother?" Merle asked. Daryl didn't respond because it was a loaded question and, really, sometimes he did fear that—even if it was an entirely irrational fear and he knew that it was irrational. "You too damn quiet. You don't deny it, so that means you're truthin' it."
"That ain't a fuckin' word," Daryl said. Merle laughed.
"That you'll argue with me about," Merle mused. "What the hell you even got, lil' brother, in this world? Don't got shit."
"Got a wife," Daryl said. "Sophia. Baby comin' when it's done bakin' up right."
Merle laughed to himself.
"Well, I ain't gonna break your family, so you can sleep easy on that," Merle said.
"Might have you one of your own," Daryl offered. "Someday."
Merle hummed.
"I ain't cut out for it," he said. "Too damn set in my ways. Sonofabitch. Ain't nobody's ole man an' I ain't the marryin' kind."
Daryl simply hummed. Just like he had the strangely irrational fear that someone or something would take away the things he cared about; Merle had the fear that he was no damned good at anything. The fear often led him to sabotage shit in his life as a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. If he never tried, after all, how could he possibly fail?
"What'cha got there?" Merle asked.
Daryl pretended to be out there tinkering with the contraption, but really, he was rolling it back and forth over a small section of dirt and breathing fresh air. So many bodies in the prison, sometimes, made it feel like he was suffocating—even if he knew that he wasn't actually suffocating—and Carol would urge him to step outside for a few minutes if there was nothing going on that really required his presence. He'd always come back, after he'd breathed enough to feel like he wasn't suffocating, much better off than if he'd remained inside and thought about how he could almost feel himself slowly losing the ability to get enough air into his lungs.
"It's sort of a scooter," Daryl said. "For Sophia. Made it outta shit I found here an' there. Gonna put a steerin' column on it off the Radio Flyer I got the wheels from. Sand it down good. So, she can ride it around."
"You was scared I was gonna take your scooter?" Merle asked with a laugh. "Laid claim to it right damn quick."
"Thought you was Rick," Daryl said.
"Officer Friendly gonna steal your scooter?" Merle asked with a laugh. "Big brother's here now. He'll beat up the bad ole bully po-lice officer for stealin' your scooter, boy."
Daryl snorted.
"Asshole. Still, you'd be fuckin' surprised at all the hell he'll take if he wants it," Daryl said. "Wants all the best for his kids—for himself, too—but sometimes he don't realize he's gotta bust his ass a lil' bit to get what he wants. All the best shit, it don't just fall into your lap. You really got work for it."
Merle hummed.
"You a philosopher now?" Merle asked.
"Just the truth, Merle," Daryl said. "I know that shit now. I can have any damn thing I want if I work to get it. But not a fuckin' thing I got just landed in my lap like it is—with no damn work from me."
"You sure that lil' woman ain't landed in your lap? From the sight of her—I'd say she spent a decent amount of time there," Merle said. "Mmm hmmm…to get her to the size she is, though, maybe you was workin' her pretty good."
"You shut up about her damned size," Daryl warned.
"Easy, brother," Merle said. "I'm just fuckin' with ya. She's s'posed to be swole up like that, right? Hell—I guess even the years, sometimes, they sit different on a woman's hips. Andrea ain't no lil' waif herself. Not like them lil' kittens runnin' around here that's barely what we woulda deemed legal 'fore all this shit. Of course—Officer Friendly's wife looks like she might blow away come a good wind—so maybe it ain't the years that's settled in on Andrea's hips."
"I didn't think you'd like some skinny lil' thing like Lori," Daryl offered. Merle laughed.
"Nah," he said. "I do like me a lil' somethin' that shakes just about fuckin' right. Better to get you a good damn grip."
"Jesus, Merle," Daryl growled. Merle laughed.
"From what I heard, Officer Friendly's gonna unload her ass," Merle said. "Olive Oyl, I mean. Heard him talkin' to Hershel. Said they both want it, I guess. First damn end-of-the-fuckin' world divorce."
"We'll see how that works," Daryl mused. "If you like what the hell you got, though, you better hold onto it. Rick's liable to want to take it just because he don't have a wife no more."
"Maybe he wants him one of them lil' kittens that's runnin' around here," Merle said. "Or—maybe he's got him a taste for a mouse, instead."
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl warned.
"I saw you pissin' a circle around your lil' Mouse today," Merle said. "Didn't know that's what the hell you was doin' it for, though. Thought it was just a general warnin' to all the Woodburyians that's been comin' in here regular-like."
Daryl laughed to himself.
He had put on a bit of a show, perhaps, that Merle might call pissing in a circle. He'd found a few reasons to crow about his wife and both of his children to any ear willing to entertain him for even a fraction of a second.
He smiled to himself even remembering it. He'd been, more than likely, a bit of an obnoxious asshole, but he had no regrets over his actions. And his brother—obnoxious asshole that he could surely be—wouldn't really hold it against him.
"Weren't for Rick," Daryl said.
"Which of them fuckers did you reckon was after a pre-made family?" Merle asked. "It's a real particular kinda man wants him a woman what's swelled up with someone else's kid."
"Weren't nobody," Daryl said. "That weren't about a single, solitary asshole out there."
"Then who the hell was it for, brother?" Merle asked with a laugh.
"Was for Carol," Daryl said.
"For Carol?" Merle asked.
Daryl hummed.
"Put on a bit of a show," Daryl said. "Strut an' snort an' make it seem like I'm about jealous enough to piss all over her just to mark her as mine."
"That some kinda kink your lil' Mouse's got, brother?" Merle asked. "I ain't judgin'—Andrea kinda likes some sketchy shit. Likes me to like—likes me to make her do shit, ya know? I mean—I ain't makin' her do shit; she'd probably stab me in my sleep if I did. Wouldn't no way, but…it's like I'm makin' her do what the fuck she wants to do..."
"For fuck's sake, Merle," Daryl spat. "Now I feel like I need to go pour bleach in my fuckin' ears to try to wash that shit outta my brain."
Merle laughed.
"It was hard to get used to at first," Merle said. "Felt wrong. But—hell, she likes it so damn much an' you get used to it. Your Mouse got some kinda damn jealousy kink or some shit?"
"She do and she don't," Daryl said. "That kinda show that I'm jealous makes her feel good. But, more than that, it lets them little kittens you were talkin' about earlier know that I'm serious about my woman. She's mine and I ain't lettin' nobody else get in there to get close to her."
"The kittens tryin' to take your woman?" Merle asked. He helped himself to another cigarette and Daryl reached his hand over to request one. Merle gave him one and Daryl offered to light both as an exchange since he knew that Merle struggled with the lighter. "That might be somethin' to let happen, brother, long as they lettin' you watch."
"Fuck you," Daryl offered. "The kittens is givin' the rest of the women hell around here."
"The rest of the women bein'…?" Merle asked.
"All the non-fuckin' kittens, Merle," Daryl said. "Try to keep up. I don't got this much trouble gettin' Soph to follow a story."
"So, you struttin' around here crowin' about how how much you like your woman is gonna keep the kittens from fuckin' with Carol and Andrea and all the damn rest?" Merle asked. Daryl hummed. "Why the hell don't they just haul off an' break one of 'em's nose or some shit an' then the rest'll back off? What the hell they doin' to 'em anyway? Because Andrea ain't said shit an' she's damn near ready to bust Rick's soon to be ex in the fuckin' face, so she might just take 'em all out at once if they don't back off her."
"It ain't that kinda fuckin' with 'em," Daryl said. "If you ain't noticed, the men are outnumbered around here like twelve to one."
"Ain't I noticed it," Merle mused.
"So, they fuckin' with 'em," Daryl said. "An' me showin' I'm jealous is a big and wide-open reminder that I'm not just taken, but I'm about as happily married as they come, so there ain't no need in barkin' up this tree and makin' Carol even the least bit uncomfortable while she's workin' on bakin' my young'un."
Merle laughed to himself.
"Ain't you a romantic," Merle said.
"I love my wife," Daryl said flatly. "I won't apologize for it. Not to you or anybody else, Merle. I swore to myself that I was gonna keep her happy, safe, provided for, and secure." He ticked off, on his fingers, all the things he'd promised himself a thousand times over that he'd give her because she deserved all that and more—and that's what a good husband ought to give her, at least according to his thoughts. "I was gonna give her everything she needs—no matter what the hell it is. And if it takes me struttin' my ass all over this whole fuckin' prison and remindin' everyone that she's mine and it won't never change to keep her feeling happy and secure, then that's what I'll do. And I'll do it tomorrow, too, if she's feelin' uneasy again."
Merle laughed to himself.
"You really gonna love when we go to Woodbury, then, in a couple weeks," Merle said. "Because there's a whole assload of men and women that you don't even know."
"Well they're gonna know one thing," Daryl said. Merle hummed at him in question. "What's mine is mine…and I don't like nobody fuckin' with what's mine—no way and no how."
Merle laughed. He reached his hand out and clapped Daryl on the shoulder. He squeezed the muscle there hard enough that Daryl gritted his teeth to keep from responding. Merle had always been strong. He was stronger now, though, than he had been before. He might've lost a hand, but that hadn't stopped the other one from being more than capable of handling itself—that much was clear in the affectionate grip he had on Daryl's shoulder just before he released it.
"Ain't nobody gonna take your scooter," Merle offered. "Your fuckin' Mouse or any of your kids, neither. Not so long as big brother's here to kick their ass for ya." He laughed, and Daryl laughed too.
"You're an asshole, Merle," Daryl said.
"Don't I fuckin' know it?" Merle mused.
"Maybe you don't understand," Daryl said. "But havin' a whole family that's all yours, Merle? It's like somethin' you can't even imagine until you open your eyes one day and you realize that you got it. It's there and it's yours. And—at the same damn time it's the best thing that's ever happened to you and it's like the most fragile thing that's ever happened to you. Like you just know—the minute that you know it's all yours—you just know you'd do whatever the hell you gotta do to keep it. It's the best damn thing in the world."
"Not really my thing," Merle said, getting to his feet. Daryl already knew that he'd said something that was going to make his brother run away—at least for a little while. Merle didn't like to try to talk about things when he found them difficult to talk about. He would simply walk away from that kind of conversation. It was one of the easiest ways to know if something was a sore spot for Merle. "I wouldn't know shit about it," he said, walking away without another word or a goodnight to Daryl.
"I hope, brother, for your sake you do—one day," Daryl offered. He kept his voice low enough, though, that Merle couldn't hear it. Because Merle, at that moment, wouldn't want to hear it.
Daryl stayed seated, rolling the scooter back and forth just in front of his feet, until the pebbles were quiet and his brother was gone. He stayed until his cigarette was done.
He stayed until he heard her voice.
"Daryl? Are you OK out here?"
Daryl smiled to himself.
"Fine," he said.
"Are you staying out long?" Carol called. "Sophia's gone down with Hershel, but…she's not going to sleep well without a kiss from Daddy and…well, I was hoping to go to sleep soon."
It was her way of asking him to come in. It was her way of reminding him that she didn't sleep well without him.
It was her way of reminding him how very loved and needed he was.
"I'm comin' in," he said. "Gonna put the scooter up. Be five minutes. Go back in—it's gettin' a little chilly out tonight. Don't want you catchin' cold."
He could practically hear her smile in her words, and he smiled at her reply.
"I love you, too," she offered, much quieter than before.
"Yeah, woman," Daryl responded. "I love you, too."