AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Did you have sex with Andrea, Merle?" Carol asked.
Daryl sat by the window and smoked a cigarette. He'd lit one for Merle, as well, because Merle looked like he was facing the executioner. Of course, Carol was just about as heated as Daryl had ever seen her, and a hooded man with an axe might actually be a little less terrifying. The thought that Merle had just walked away from Andrea when she'd told him about the baby seemed to boil under Carol's skin as much as it possibly did under Andrea's. Daryl wasn't exactly coming to his brother's rescue, though. He knew where his bread was buttered, and he figured that if Merle felt like a son of a bitch, he probably deserved it.
He was only thankful that Hershel, having popped in for half a second to see how things were going, was more than willing to take Sophia and entertain her for the better part of the day with the playground and food in alternating intervals.
"I ain't arguin' that I fucked her, Mouse," Merle said.
"Did you use a condom? Was she taking birth control?"
"You know we ain't seen that shit in—a long damn time."
"Then you decided, Merle, the moment you took your dick out of your pants, that you wanted to be a Daddy. Just the same as Andrea decided that she wanted to be Mama and let you make a baby with her."
"You don't exactly think of it that way," Merle offered.
"I can assure you Andrea did," Carol said. "She knew it was possible. She's a grown ass woman with knowledge of how these things happen, Merle. If you didn't think about it—that's on you for…for being a dumbass."
"I ain't denyin' that I took part in this," Merle said. "I get it. I'm beyond that now. What the hell I'm sayin' is that I ain't cut out to do it. I ain't nobody's old man."
"You are somebody's old man," Carol said. Daryl tensed. He was close to interrupting—not for Merle's sake, really, but to give Carol a time-out so that her blood pressure didn't get too high. Luckily, she visibly backed off a moment, even physically stepping back, and clearly did her best to calm herself. She sighed. "You have a baby, Merle. Think of it that way. Think of it as—it already exists in the universe even if you're still waiting for it to be developed enough to be born. You and Andrea already created a life. You're a father. What you're deciding now is if you're going to be a Daddy."
Merle frowned at her.
"I don't know how, Mouse. I won't be no good at any of this shit."
"Daryl's good at it," Carol said.
Daryl smiled to himself. He could fuck up a lot of things, and sometimes he felt like his thumbs were put on backwards when he tried to do things, but he knew there was one thing he wasn't fucking up—he was a good husband and he was a good Daddy…and he would only get better with time and more experience.
"I know enough about your life, Merle, to know that you had quite the hand in raising your brother."
Merle glanced at Daryl. Daryl resisted the urge to look away to avoid any kind of awkwardness. Maybe what Merle needed, for the moment, was awkwardness.
Merle frowned and ducked his head.
"That shit's different, Mouse," Merle said. "I did what I had to do. What I could do. Don't mean I was good at or knew what the hell I was doin'. If Daryl's bein' honest, he'll tell you I fucked it up plenty of times."
Carol laughed to herself. She'd relaxed now. The baby must have been kicking, maybe in response to her surge of frustration at his uncle, because she was rubbing her hand over her belly in large circles. It was clear that it wasn't just absent-minded. She was trying to soothe the little thing that shared her body.
"If we're being honest, Merle, we're all fucking up every day," Carol said. "And when we're parents? It's just trial and error. We try things with Sophia and, sometimes, it works out wonderfully. Sometimes we think maybe we don't want to do that again. We hope that our love for her overshadows any accidental hurt we might cause her." She sighed loudly. "You're going to mess up, Merle. We all do. But—it's the intention that's going to count the most. And right now? That's all that's going to matter to Andrea."
Merle frowned at Carol deeply. With his shoulders hung and his face drawn up in a practical Bassett Hound expression, Daryl felt sorry for his older brother. He finally got up from his place by the window and walked over to where Carol was standing, putting himself directly in Merle's line of vision.
"I meant what I said, brother," Daryl offered. "You wanna do this? We'll help you. You say you don't know what the hell you doin'. Well, all you gotta do is want to know. We'll help you the rest of the damn way."
Carol laughed to herself.
"We'll put you through—husband and Daddy bootcamp," Carol said. "If that's what you want."
Merle perked up slightly. He looked at Daryl.
"Teach you everything I know, for what it's worth," Daryl assured him.
Merle looked back at Carol. She smiled.
"I have first-hand experience at knowing both the dos and the don'ts of being a husband and a father—at least from a woman's perspective."
"The hell do I do?" Merle asked. "Because I already fucked this up pretty good."
Carol smiled.
"The first thing you do is—take a walk."
"Take a walk?" Merle asked, furrowing his brow.
"Down to the storage area. Choose something baby related, Merle. Something sweet and soft. Whatever speaks to you. And if you can, see if you can find some flowers to pick on the way back. Or get something you know Andrea likes to eat. When you get back, you go straight up to that apartment, you apologize to Andrea, and you give her what you brought. You tell her that you're ready to try your best to be the best Daddy and man for her that you can possibly be."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Wouldn't hurt you to see if they got a ring in them boxes down there that looks like it might fit Andrea," Daryl said. "You can always take her down to rifle through for one that's just right. But the damn gesture'll go a long way. Unless—you ain't really serious about doin' this shit."
Merle had gone somewhat ashen.
"You're talkin' marriage," Merle said.
"Unless the woman you knocked up ain't good enough to marry, Merle," Daryl said. He felt some of the frustration rising in him that had made Carol angry earlier, and he understood her reaction.
"It ain't that," Merle snapped. "Hell—marriage is when everything goes to shit. Anybody'll tell you that. You get a good thing goin' on, get married, and then she can't stand your ass an' you can't stand hers."
"That kind of shit is what assholes who got married for the wrong damn reasons say, Merle," Daryl said. He knew exactly the kinds of horror stories that Merle was referencing. He knew the assholes whose bullshit had burned into Merle's brain. He knew the television shows and movies that made wives into harpies and men into poor victims who were stuck with the heinous women that had once pretended to be perfect angels.
And he knew it was all bullshit.
"You love Andrea?" Daryl asked.
"I love her, OK?" Merle said, clearly frustrated with feeling backed into a corner that would require him to declare his feelings.
"She loves you," Carol said. "I know she does. She loves you enough to—to fight for your honor, Merle. She loves you enough that she fully accepted the possibility of starting a family with you."
"That shit don't change because you get married," Daryl said. "Not if you really love her and she really loves you. She don't just turn into a demon."
"I've been in a bad marriage," Carol offered. "And I've been in a good marriage. And I can tell you that the difference is intention. Ed wanted to control me. He wanted me to be exactly what he wanted—who he wanted. He didn't love me. I don't think he ever did. He loved the idea of me. He loved the idea of having a wife and a family so that he could fit in with what he thought society expected of him. At the end of the day, though, he didn't like the reality of what it meant to live with someone else. He didn't like the compromise. He wanted to rule, instead. To control me, and it almost killed me." She shook her head and Daryl stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to silently remind her that he was there. She leaned her head into him. "In contrast, Merle, I know what it is to have a good marriage. I'm not perfect. Neither is Sophia. But—Daryl still loves us."
"And they love me," Daryl said with a laugh. "The rest of it? Hell—Merle. Look what all we been through. All that shit's just details and circumstances if I know that, wherever the hell we are and whatever the hell our lives look like, I got my family. Television is television, Merle. And them assholes that bitched about their wives? They was fuckin' Eds themselves. People like our old man. You decide if you gonna be Rooster Dixon two point fuckin' oh or if you're gonna be Merle Dixon—decent ass man who married a woman he loved and had a little family that he could be proud of."
Merle sighed and stood up.
"What if she says no?" He asked.
Carol smiled at him and walked over to pat him on the arm.
"She won't say no, Merle," Carol said. "Not if you ask her like you mean it."
"You sound like you're sure of that, Mouse," he said. Daryl could hear the fatigue in his voice. He wondered if Andrea, going through everything she was likely going through at the moment, was as tired as Merle sounded. If she was, there was a very good chance that, this whole thing resolved, they'd probably hide in their apartment and sleep for the better part of a day or two.
"I've hardly ever been more certain of anything in my life, Merle," Carol said. "But—promise me that you're not going to be the kind of husband that enjoys hurting your wife."
Merle frowned at her and then smirked.
"Not no way she don't like," he offered with a shrug.
"Your business is your business, Merle," Carol said. "You know what I mean."
"Truth of the damn matter is—I don't want to hurt nobody," Merle said, his voice firm and sincere. "I never really did, Mouse. I just—seem to fuck it up sometimes."
"If you don't want to fuck this up, you won't," Carol assured him. "But—go on. Get the stuff I told you to get. Figure out what you're going to say—even if that means keeping it simple with an apology and the promise that you love her and you want to do this. The longer you make her wait, Merle, the more you're hurting her, whether you want to or not."
Merle nodded his head. He glanced toward Daryl. Then, he laughed to himself.
"Let's say she forgives me like you say she will, Mouse. Says—she wants to do this. The whole damn thing with me. Then what?"
"That's when you start to figure things out together," Carol said. "Like a husband and wife should. And if you get stuck, or if you need a little extra support? That's what we're here for."
Merle nodded and laughed to himself. He looked back at Daryl again.
"Thanks for—kickin' my ass."
Daryl laughed.
"Any time, brother," Daryl offered. "Now—go get yourself a bride before somebody else gets in there. Good woman's hard to find these days."
Merle laughed.
"Always has been."