Kinda Like Beetlejuice But Way Sleazier

The words poured from Beth in uninhibited repulsion: "What're you - frickin' Beetlejuice?"

Merle tilted his head back and cackled loudly. "Oh, c'mon! I know ya missed me, blondie." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, smirking and giving her a look that nearly made her gag. "I sure missed you. Gets awful lonely when the only person who can hear me ain't around."

She rolled her eyes and breezed past him, scowling angrily. "I hate it when you do that." She'd really been hoping for just a few more moments free of Merle.

"Do what? Show up when somebody's talkin' about me?"

"You probably followed even though I told you not to, didn't you?"

He shrugged, putting on a not-so-convincing innocent expression. "No. I mean… I get bored pretty quick. I mighta caught up, mighta heard the tail-end…"

Daryl heard her speaking and stopped to turn around and look at her curiously. She stopped too, frowning and shooting him an apologetic glance. "Your brother just showed up," she explained. "I guess he got impatient."

Merle laughed. "I've always been impatient."

"He was always impatient," Daryl growled in near-perfect unison.

Beth had to blink and shake her head, choosing not to focus on Merle for the moment even though he wouldn't stop making comments as she followed Daryl back to the bike. As if things weren't already weird enough… She wasn't sure she was capable of dealing with both Dixons at the same time.

"Maybe I shoulda come along after all. I was the main topic of conversation anyhow, wasn't I?"

She merely shrugged and ignored the dead brother, eagerly mounting the motorcycle behind Daryl and wrapping her arms around his middle, more than ready to leave the sad field. She gave Merle a withering look as the engine roared to life but he was still grinning.

"Well?" Daryl turned his head to look back at her, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Which way am I s'posed ta go?"

Beth looked to Merle and his grin grew wider. "Oh - so you want my help now?"

She sighed against Daryl's back and said, "Just give me the directions so we can get this over with."

Merle pondered her request for a second, his grin fading as he crossed his arms over his chest. "How 'bout you say 'please' first? DIdn't yer daddy ever teach you any manners, princess?"

She clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to quip back with a smartass remark, Daryl's eyes heavy on her as he awaited the end of her ghost argument. He was still kind of looking at her like she'd grown a second head, but he seemed to be getting more used to it. Or he was just entertaining her for the sake of seeing how insane she could actually be. Either way…

She repeated spitefully, "Please give me the directions so we can get this over with."

Merle frowned and shrugged. "Expected better'an that but whatever. We'll work on it. Now tell Darylina ta get goin' - an' don't be afraid to tell him ta take his skirt off an' open that baby up a little bit." He scowled and spit on the ground. "I didn't spend ten years buildin' that sonuvabitch jus' so this pussy could drive it around like some kinda bitch-mobile."

Daryl must've been studying Beth's facial expressions as he awaited an answer. "He's bitchin' about how I drive his bike, isn't he?"

All Beth could think was: Lord, what did I do to deserve being caught between two insufferable brothers like this?


Between crude remarks and suggestive comments, Merle muttered directions in Beth's ear and she repeated them to Daryl over the roar of the motorcycle as they sped down the endless dirt roads outside Senoia. She found herself repeatedly biting her tongue, withholding all the retorts she would normally sling back at Merle after every crass statement he voiced. He would not stop laughing at the prospect of Daryl and Beth "gettin' even closer" - nor would he stop talking about it - and it made her wish he was alive just so she could slap him. After a few miles, she chose to tune him out entirely except when he said "turn left" or "turn right."

They must've driven at least ten miles, though maybe it just felt that way because Merle made everything worse. But finally, they approached another wide open field. Except this one had a large pond set in the middle that was barely visible from the road. Daryl drove up as far as the barbwire-fence before he parked the bike and shut it off. He and Beth climbed off and slipped through the fence, trekking through the field with Merle in tow.

"Yeah, jus' keep walkin' this way. It's up here toward the water," he instructed, growing quieter once they'd passed the big sign stuck in the ground that read: Private Property No Trespassing.

"He says it's further up this way toward the water," Beth said quietly, even though there was no one around to hear them save for the crickets and owls and raccoons. "Should we be here, though? It's private property - I dunno who owns this land."

Daryl grunted from where he was walking a couple feet ahead. "Ain't nobody gonna know we was ever here. We'll be gone 'fore anybody notices."

Beth made a sound of uncertainty but didn't argue. A few steps later, Daryl paused and glanced back at her over his shoulder.

"Think I know this place," he muttered. "Looks like one a the spots me an' Merle used ta fish."

She looked over at Merle and he shot her a smug smirk, nodding his head as he walked.

"Yeah. It is," he told her.

She frowned and hesitated, unsure of whether or not she wanted to repeat his confirmation. Then again, she reckoned it couldn't hurt: it was just one more thing to help convince Daryl she wasn't lying. Because how the hell would she know about him and his brother's random old fishing spot on private property?

"He says you did," she whispered. She didn't know why she was whispering but it just felt appropriate. They were trespassing, after all.

Daryl didn't glance back at her or make any sound of acknowledgment though she knew he heard her. He continued leading the way through the field and toward the water.

"I stole that boat an' we went fishin' in this big-ass pond," Merle said, chuckling as he reminisced aloud. "We had two whole twenty-packs an' the damn thing tipped over less'an ten beers in. And this dumbass managed ta pull me to shore but not the fuckin' beer!" He scoffed in disgust.

Beth stifled a laugh and shook her head, repeating to Daryl's back, "I guess he stole a boat an' tipped it over while you guys were drinking an' fishing…? And you pulled him to shore but didn't save the beer."

Daryl's head whipped around and he halted in his tracks. "I knew I remembered this place," he muttered. "Saved his goddamn life an' all he could say was 'go get the beer, dumbass.'"

"He's so fuckin' overdramatic," Merle scoffed. "Emotional li'l Darylina - actin' like I didn't know how ta swim. I spent four years in the military, I coulda saved my fuckin' self just fine. Always gotta be the martyr though, don'tcha?"

Beth cleared her throat and met Daryl's gaze awkwardly, taking a step forward to motion that she wanted to keep moving. "He, um - well, you know 'im. You can probably guess what he's saying. About bein' in the military and knowin' how to swim and how you always wanna be the - uh… martyr."

This was weird. She really really didn't want to have to be the messenger when it came to brotherly strife like this. But she also didn't want to give Daryl any reason to not believe her. He deserved to hear everything Merle was saying - just as much as she deserved to hear it.

He grunted and frowned, giving her a once-over full of trepidation. He chewed the inside of his cheek and hesitated in place. Then he turned and resumed leading them forward.

"Never wanted ta be a martyr," he muttered after a half-dozen steps. "Still don't. Guess everybody remembers shit differently… As much as he pissed me off, I'd give anything jus' ta have my brother back. But that's not how it works. He was pushin' me away fer years before he hung himself."

"Bullshit," Merle spat. "Yer bitch-ass was runnin' away. An' I didn't fuckin' hang myself, goddammit!"

Beth swallowed hard and eyed the back of Daryl's vest, eyes trained on the embroidered wings as she said cautiously, "If he hung himself…"

Daryl shot her a side-eye over his shoulder and grumbled something under his breath.

"Beg your pardon?" She asked sarcastically, growing frustrated. She was just the messenger, she didn't deserve this kind of hostility.

"He said you must have about as many brain cells as all the idiots I hung around with if you believe that," Merle clarified for her resentfully. "Stubborn little prick. He would never say this shit ta my face, I'll tell ya what."

She glared over at Merle as she continued walking and snapped, "Well he's saying it now and he knows you're here so it's kinda the same thing, don'tcha think? Just tell us where the statue is an' stop making me the referee in your stupid little quarrel."

Merle crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and just as Beth looked ahead again, she found Daryl had stopped and turned around to face her. She halted abruptly, nearly tripping over her own feet. He glanced at the general area where Merle was standing, eyes narrowing as he met Beth's eyes in the dim moonlight.

"So let's say this whole thing isn't some kinda long con," Daryl said. "Let's say you're not lying right to my face - "

"I'm not," she cut in.

He waved a hand to shush her and continued, "Whatever. Here's my biggest question: if he showed up an' threatened ta haunt yer daddy to death an' whatnot… why the hell'd you invite him in? Why didn't you jus' say no?"

Beth's lips parted but she was too confused to form an answer. She stared at Daryl, perplexed. "Um… what?"

"Well 'e couldn'ta come in if you hadn't invited him," he said matter-of-factly. "How'd he trick ya into that one?"

She was still trying to figure out where this question was coming from and where he was getting his logic when Merle started busting up laughing beside her. She glanced over at him and raised her eyebrows, hoping he would explain what the hell was so funny because Daryl was looking awful serious right now.

"Holy shit," Merle gasped between loud, breathless laughter. He doubled over, hands on his knees as he laughed even harder. Finally, he shook his head and wiped away the tears, still chuckling as he explained, "This dumbass is thinkin' of werewolves! Christ, what an idiot..."

Beth sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're both wrong," she said, looking at Daryl. "It's vampires that have to be invited in - you're thinking of vampires. Not ghosts."

Merle's laughter stopped abruptly and Daryl's face was quickly turning red in the dim light, his lips pursed. Then both brothers grumbled out in nearly identical tones, "Whatever."

Beth stifled a laugh as Daryl spun around, though she admittedly felt guilty for finding it a little funny. He resumed trekking across the field in silence. Merle, always quick to recover and even quicker to forget and ignore an instance where he was wrong about something, was still muttering and chuckling about how "stupid" his little brother was.

They reached the pond a few moments later and stopped to look out and take it in: Beth hadn't seen many ponds quite this large and she wondered how deep it was. And if that stolen boat was still somewhere at the bottom. The sound of crickets and bullfrogs grew louder and Daryl had to speak up to be heard over the raucous wildlife.

"So where's it at?" He asked, glancing over to the spot where he thought Merle was standing - though the dead Dixon was on the other side of Beth now. "Hope ya hid it somewhere nobody was gonna find it. Might be gone by now."

"I ain't stupid," Merle snapped. "'S over there - in them trees." He pointed past Daryl and toward the huge, dark clump of trees a few yards away from the pond.

Beth jerked her chin in that direction and met Daryl's expectant gaze. "He says it's over there in those trees."

Daryl turned and looked to where she was gesturing then turned back with a scowl and a suspicious glare. "Perfect. You happen ta bring a flashlight or am I supposed ta use sonar to find it?"

Merle scoffed. "Sonar's for underwater detection, retard. It ain't underwater, it's under a fuckin' log."

Beth ignored his remark and explained to Daryl, "No, but I have my phone. D'you have yours? We can use the flashlights on 'em."

"Fine. Yer comin' with me, though," he growled before turning and leading them away from the pond and toward the dark woods.

"Obviously," she muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

They trekked forward, heading to the edge of the tree line and pausing. "He said it's under a log," she added.

Daryl nodded without looking back at her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. She did the same and they both turned their flashlights on. The small beams didn't provide the best light but it was enough to cut through the pitch black within the trees and illuminate their path. He took the first few cautious steps into the darkness, Beth following closely behind. Then he paused and stepped aside, gesturing for her to step in front of him.

"Lead the way," he muttered, eyebrows raised.

She pursed her lips and nodded, stepping forward and aiming the light from the back of her phone onto the ground before her. She glanced over at Merle and watched him flicker and disappear, reappearing solid in front of her a split-second later. He nodded his head and gestured for her to follow him so she kept the light pointed down and forward, trying to ignore the way that it literally shone right through his seemingly solid legs and feet. He almost appeared ethereal in the artificial glow of her phone's flashlight. Even though he was so obviously anything but.

I wish Daddy had been right, she thought, stepping slowly and carefully over undergrowth and moss and scattered tree branches, eyes trained on the back of Merle's legs. I wish ghosts were nothing but superstitions and fairytales. If only he could know the truth. But it would break his heart.

Merle muttered under his breath the whole way, talking to himself like he was trying to remember exactly where he'd put the damn thing. They weaved through trees, over fallen logs, turned here and there, getting deeper and deeper into the woods. Beth was beginning to think he'd forgotten where he was even going, about to ask him if he actually knew where the hell he was leading them. And she could hear Daryl sighing with exasperation just behind her, probably thinking the same thing.

Then Merle stopped and spun around, grinning from ear-to-ear and puffing out his chest proudly with his hands on his hips. He gestured down to the large hollow log sitting before them and proclaimed, "Here it is! Fuckin' found the bastard. 'Bout forgot how damn far I wandered out here." He frowned and looked around uncomfortably.

"Well - where is it?" Daryl asked impatiently.

Beth looked to Merle expectantly and repeated the sentiment. "Yeah, where is it? Like - underneath?"

Merle nodded. "Yeah! Jus' lift the damn thing. I dug a li'l hole under it."

She stepped aside, keeping her light shining on the log, and looked at Daryl. "He says he dug a hole under the log, we just gotta lift it."

Daryl shrugged and handed her his phone without a word, stepping forward and grabbing the bottom of the log with both hands while planting his feet firmly in the dirt. She kept both lights trained on him as he grunted and strained, lifting the log after a few seconds and finally heaving it aside. He stood up straight and let out a deep breath, wiping his palms off on the front of his jeans.

Sure enough, there it was: a hand-dug hole hiding beneath the heavy log, just large enough to fit the most hideous ceramic statue that Beth had ever laid eyes on. She almost gasped aloud but stifled it, swallowing it down instead. Admittedly, she hadn't been expecting Merle to actually lead them to anything.

"Is… that it?" She asked quietly.

Daryl met her gaze with narrowed eyes and frowned, then crouched down silently and reached into the hole, grabbing the heftiest sides of the statue and slowly dragging it out to rest on the ground. He tilted it until it was sitting upright, then stood up and stared down at it wordlessly for a moment.

"Yeah," he said. "That's it."

It was an ugly ceramic statue depicting a rather unrealistic female body - but only from the thighs up to the neck. The breasts were obscenely large and spilling out of a tiny bikini, the waist thin and the hips only barely wider. Beth couldn't hide the expression of repulsion on her face as she took in the sight.

"That thing is… hideous," she said.

Merle and Daryl both chuckled.

"'Sposed ta be a replica of Pam Anderson," Daryl explained, crouching down on one knee and inspecting closer. "From that old show, Baywatch."

"A replica of the parts that're worth lookin' at," Merle added, snickering.

Beth scrunched her nose in disgust. "This is the kinda stuff your dad… took pride in?"

Daryl laughed humorlessly. "Oh yeah. This is one a the few he liked enough ta keep around."

Before she could ask, Merle explained, "Used all the others as target practice in the livin' room. But this one had a special place in that cold black pit where his heart shoulda been." He cackled with amusement. "Guess he always had a soft spot fer that Pam Anderson slut, 'specially after he watched 'er sex tape."

"Ew," she said. Daryl looked up to her quizzically and she asked, appalled, "Your dad shot at stuff - inside your house?"

He furrowed his brow, a bit confused at how she knew that. "Yeah. Among other things," he mumbled before quickly looking back down at the statue, resting a large hand atop it.

She knew Will Dixon was awful, but in all honesty, she'd never entertained the idea of someone actually shooting at things inside their own house. Like it wasn't an extremely unsafe thing to do. This guy sounded worse and worse with every new fact she learned about him, and it only made more and more sense why Merle had killed him. And why Daryl was so… rough around the edges.

"Tell 'im ta turn it over," Merle said, and she gave him a questioning look. "Turn it over - inside the leg, there's a spot jus' under the bikini line. I slipped somethin' in there."

Beth narrowed her eyes, hesitant to repeat his instructions. He slashed a hand through the air and insisted, "Fer him. I put it in there specifically fer Daryl ta find. Tell 'im, blondie!"

She chewed her lower lip for a second and watched as Daryl ran his fingers over every crevice and crack on the dirty old statue. Then she pushed the words out: "Turn it over. Merle said he put somethin' in a spot under the bikini line, inside the leg."

Daryl looked up at her and she could see the doubt on his face.

She quickly added, "He says it's something for you."

His eyes lingered on her suspiciously but he looked back down and turned the statue over. It plopped down into the dirt on its back and he slid his fingertips over the bikini line and around the thigh, pausing when he found the aforementioned hole. His frown deepened and he leaned down closer to get a better look. Beth stepped forward and crouched down as well, aiming both phones' lights at the spot in an effort to be helpful. Then he grunted and pulled out a thin piece of plastic. Once it had slid all the way out and was pinched between his forefingers, she realized it wasn't a piece of plastic at all - it was a photo. Like one of those old Polaroids that her mama had compiled within dozens of family albums.

Daryl's face completely changed as he held the photo up and grasped it in both hands, staring at it with widened eyes. Merle was silent beside them, hands resting pridefully on his hips while he watched them with intrigue.

Beth didn't dare lower the flashlights, studying the range of emotions flickering through Daryl's eyes as he stared at the photo. She saw his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard and she thought his eyes might've started watering.

"What is it?" She asked softly, voice cracking.

His gaze flicked up and met hers and he quickly tucked the photo into a pocket on the inside of his vest. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Just a picture."

"Of him an' Mama," Merle eagerly added. "Only picture left a them together. I was smart enough ta hide it away 'fore Pa found it. Almost got donated to Goodwill in a box of her old shit."

Beth frowned and looked at Daryl seriously, speaking softly, "You and your mom? Merle says it's the only one left of you two; he saved it before your dad found it."

A flash of anger appeared on Daryl's face and he quickly looked away, standing up and giving the statue a hearty kick with his steel-toed boots. The high-pitched ding echoed off the trees around them and the crickets went silent for a second.

"So he could save a fuckin' picture," he growled angrily, shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of the words seemed to trail off without leaving his mouth. Then he spat on the ground and stepped away from the statue, leaving it where it lay in the dirt. He stopped beside her and reached out to snatch his phone back before walking away, giving her no choice but to follow after him as quickly as she could. She nearly stumbled over a large tree root but caught herself just in time, Merle's obnoxious laughter ringing in her ears.

"What - where're we goin'?" Beth called after Daryl, struggling to keep up his hasty pace through the undergrowth and dead leaves. "Did you - are you gonna listen to me now?"

He didn't respond or slow down and she glared at his back, willing him to stop and look at her. But he just kept going, weaving between trees and leading them toward the edge of the woods much quicker than she could follow. Merle was chuckling incessantly and flickering in every which direction, popping up here and there randomly, all too proud of himself for eliciting such a strong reaction. Even she could feel the anger and the hurt that was currently radiating off of Daryl, so palpable that it was almost awkward. She was clearly ripping open some old wounds and she really didn't like it, but if it meant he was going to finally stop thinking that she was crazy…

They reached the tree line much quicker than before and stepped out into the dim moonlight at the edge of the pond, Beth breathing hard and Daryl clenching his jaw and his fists. They switched off the flashlights on their phones and he shoved his into his pocket roughly before spinning and beginning to stride forward, back in the direction of the fence and the bike.

"Oh, he's pissy 'cause you was right an' he's gotta admit it," Merle explained, grinning smugly and sticking close to Beth's side as she followed after Daryl. "Ain't nothin' Darylina hates more'an havin' to admit when he's wrong."

She huffed out a breath and sped up her pace, keeping within a few feet of Daryl's back. "Daryl - where are we going? I - "

"I'm takin' you home," he snapped without glancing back.

She frowned and exchanged a look with Merle, whose grin was rapidly fading. "D'you - do you at least believe me now? I couldn't make this crap up, you must know that by now."

Daryl merely grunted in response, waving a hand dismissively in her direction. She clutched her cardigan tighter around her and withheld any further questions, choosing to simply follow him back to the bike and figure it out from there. She hoped Merle would keep his mouth shut so as not to make things any harder than they needed to be.

But she couldn't keep from wondering if this instance had helped or if it had actually hindered Daryl's belief. Surely he would have no choice but to be convinced after finding something so mysterious and specific? Something she had absolutely no way of knowing about? Yet he was acting like she'd just found the most vulnerable topic possible and pried it open for no reason. As if there was any way she could've known about that photo or that statue or his dad. As if there was anything for her to gain from supposedly leading him on like this. There was no way he could keep denying it at this point.

Then again, Dixons weren't turnips.

He hopped onto the bike and started it up before she even had the chance to climb on behind him. Once she finally did, breathless, she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and found all his muscles stiff as a board. He kicked up the kickstand and revved the engine and sped out of the field and back onto the road, rapidly picking up speed once the tires hit dirt and gravel. Beth was still trying to catch her breath, shutting her eyes against the rush of cold wind and burying her face into the back of Daryl's vest, clutching onto him for dear life. Merle was seemingly left behind but she knew it was only a matter of time until he appeared beside her again.

The ride was a lot faster - and a lot scarier - this time around. Daryl's emotions shown in the way he was driving, nearly giving Beth a panic attack by the time they were halfway back to her house. She was flooded with relief when she saw the farm come into view, and even more so when they approached the house and Daryl was forced to slow down and quiet the engine down the long driveway. Her heart was still racing, and it jumped again when Merle appeared out of thin air at the side of the house, leaning against the siding amongst the shadows as though he'd been waiting there all night. He was frowning and glaring at Daryl with an expression she couldn't quite interpret. She chose to ignore it and focus on the living brother.

Her legs were once again shaky when she climbed off the bike and stepped away. Daryl remained in place, hands still gripping the handlebars and back hunched forward. He met her eyes for a brief second before looking away.

"Are you - yer gonna come with me to meet the Swamp Witch, right?" She asked, desperation lacing her tone.

He scoffed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded-up map that Beth had thrown down on the table hours ago. He held it out for her and she hesitantly reached forward to take it.

He didn't respond until she had the map grasped in both her hands. "I dunno yet. Still can't figure out if yer full'a shit or just nuts."

Beth frowned and opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off before she could start.

"I put my number in yer phone earlier. Call me tomorrow. If ya don't hear back… well, tough shit."

Then he revved the motorcycle loudly and turned, driving away and racing back to the end of the driveway. He paused at the edge of the road before peeling off, scattering dust and gravel behind his back tire. A few seconds later, he'd disappeared down the dark road. She could still hear his bike echoing off the trees.

"Like I said," Merle said, stepping away from the house and approaching Beth's side to stare off after his brother. "Overdramatic little pussy boy. Too damn sensitive fer his own good. Told ya he was the soft one."

She groaned and stuffed the map into her pocket with an exhausted sigh, unable to exude the energy it took to look at Merle or even respond to him.

"I already made up my mind," she said decisively, dragging her feet through the grass and toward the backdoor of the house. "I'm going to that Swamp Witch's place tomorrow. Even if I gotta go alone. I'm done wasting time."

Merle chuckled and clapped his hands sarcastically. "'Bout damn time you grow a pair an' take some responsibility! 'Cept you ain't gonna get far without Daryl… dummy."

She shook her head and paused on the back porch, turning to give him an indignant look. "Says who?"

"Says me. And the Swamp Witch's little messenger boy. Best pray my baby brother pulls his head out of his ass real soon, sweetcheeks."

This might've been the moment where Beth began drilling Merle to find out just exactly what he wasn't telling her, since he seemed to know so much. But in all honesty, she was far too exhausted. It felt like the day had gone on forever and now she was home, this close to collapsing into her waiting bed.

There's no point anyway, she thought with resignation. I can't squeeze any more blood out of Merle than I can Daryl. I'll just have to worry about dragging Daryl along tomorrow. Once I get a good night's sleep. Then we'll get to the bottom of things. Yeah. We'll figure it all out tomorrow…

to be continued...


A/N: So the response to this fic has been really incredible and way better than I could've ever hoped for. Honestly, I was not sure at all that anyone would want to read this or would even like it, let alone think it's funny. I thought, eh maybe I've just got a weird soft spot for ol' Merle Dixon. But apparently I'm not the only one! I just wanna say THANK YOU to everyone who's been leaving reviews and following. Y'all are amazing and I hope you continue enjoying this fun little fic that I wrote on a whim :)
(don't forget to subscribe to me on AO3 under the same penname and follow me on tumblr at im-immortal)