Awkward Silences with a Stray Cat
The first half-hour of their drive back was surprisingly free of snarky Merle comments. Probably due to the fact that Beth and Daryl were too preoccupied with navigating the backroads of the swamp. Once they'd made it back onto a main road and Beth was confident in where she was going, the inside of the truck fell completely silent.
Her mind was racing with all the things they'd just been told and shown. She glanced over to see both Daryl and Merle gazing out their windows with near identical expressions of discomfort and contemplation. She took a small relief in the fact that they were all reeling from their experience with the Swamp Witch.
She tried to break the silence and talk to Daryl, both of her hands clutching the steering wheel tightly while her eyes remained set on the long road before them. "So that was… a lot. I didn't know what to expect from it but I didn't think - "
Daryl grunted without looking at her and she stopped talking, her mouth snapping shut awkwardly.
He was tense in his seat, eyes narrowed as he stared out the passenger side window. "I jus' wanna go home an' go to fuckin' bed."
She rolled her eyes and sighed inwardly. She figured that was his way of saying he needed time to process everything before he was ready to talk about it.
Dixons ain't turnips, she reminded herself.
Merle mumbled something from the backseat but she'd already tuned him out. Without another word, she reached over and turned on the radio. Survivor's High On You filled the cab of the truck and concealed the tense silence. She didn't bother changing the station. She just kept driving, piecing all the scattered clues together in her head while she tried to navigate their way back to Georgia.
But she knew that, sooner or later, she and Daryl would have no choice but to discuss everything they'd learned today. Maybe not tonight, but very soon. She had to admit… going home and going to bed sounded awfully good right now. Maybe that's what they both needed before they could attempt to tackle the perilous situation that had been revealed to them.
The Djab Idol sat in the console between their seats, resting in one of the cupholders with the hand-written spell wrapped around it. She tried not to look at it, but it kept taunting her from the corner of her eye. She pressed her foot down a little harder on the gas pedal and kept her gaze locked on the road ahead.
Just a few more hours and she'd be home.
The next hour and a half proved to be just as quiet. The radio played a string of 80s and 90s song at a low volume, occasionally interrupted by commercials. Daryl was completely silent in his seat, smoking a cigarette every fifteen minutes or so while he continued staring out the window. Merle sucked on his teeth loudly now and then, grumbling under his breath a couple of times. Beth had admittedly tuned him out. She was too lost in her own head and focused on driving to hear him. In fact, he was beginning to become something like background noise in her ears, blending in with the sounds of the radio and the wind.
The sun had only just begun its descent toward the horizon when they left Morgan's cabin. But during the drive, it quickly slipped down from the sky and disappeared to leave a clear black sky speckled with stars and a bright glowing moon. Beth drove at least 15 mph over the speed limit, but she knew they still wouldn't make it back until very late. And they'd only spent a little over two hours in the swamps of Florida.
She kept racking her brain, trying to work out a plausible lie that would explain why she'd been gone for literally the entire day. Her dad might not drill her too hard - he'd been urging her to 'go out and make some new friends' for a while now - but Maggie would be suspicious. Rick had never asked Beth to babysit for longer than eight hours, maybe ten at the most. She would need something really believable to explain the rest of the hours. But what could she say? That she'd made friends? Maggie would see right through her. And her dad would beg to meet those said "new friends."
Beth sighed inwardly and shook the thoughts from her head. A pang of hunger shot through her stomach and she was quickly reminded that she'd eaten very little all day. She grabbed the plastic bag of snacks she'd picked up from the gas station and pulled out some chips. Out of habit, she held out the bag full of goodies to Daryl - she'd even picked out some spicy beef jerky and a couple other things that she didn't like but assumed a guy like him would enjoy. But he just glanced at the bag briefly, frowned, and shook his head before turning back to stare out the window and ignore her.
She didn't take it personally. She simply set the bag between them, making it clear that he could help himself whenever he pleased, and turned the radio up a little louder. She munched on her Pringles with one hand and steered the truck with the other, eyes locked on the road.
It was no matter. She and Daryl still had three or four more hours together, stuck in the confines of the truck. And he knew for sure, just as well as she did, that they had to be a team now. They'd have no choice but to discuss what came next. He'd say something eventually.
He had to… Right?
An hour later, the radio station faded out until it was complete static. Beth didn't move to change it, waiting several moments to see if Daryl would take control of the radio again. He still hadn't spoken a word or even made a grunt in her general direction. When he didn't seem to notice that they were listening to static, she gave up and reached over, wordlessly tuning the radio to a station that was in range.
The first station was modern hits and she left it without really caring what was playing. It was some pop song she didn't recognize. She'd barely been listening to the music anyway, too lost in her own head as she continuously went back over everything Morgan had revealed. She risked a tentative glance over at Daryl only to find him staring out the window, his shaggy hair hiding the expression on his face as he smoked what must've been his twentieth cigarette. She frowned to herself and went back to focusing on the road, searching for signs that would tell her how many miles they had to go before the next town.
A few minutes later, a different song had come on and the lyrics began to register in her brain as they reached her ears. She thought she might've heard the song once or twice before but she couldn't name it, and she'd never actually paid attention to the words until now.
"...My turn to ignore ya, don't say I didn't warn ya. All the good girls go to Hell, 'cause even God Herself has enemies. And once the water starts to rise, and Heaven's outta sight, She'll want the Devil on Her team…"
Beth's hand shot out and turned the station, flicking through static before settling on the first sound that came in clear again. It was a modern country station. Though she didn't care what it was, she just really didn't like the tone of the song that had been playing.
Unfortunately, Merle noticed. Always eager to catch Beth in a moment of vulnerability, he leaned forward until he was cackling into her ear. "Wha'samatter? Didn't like that song, blondie?"
The radio switched back and the song returned. Merle laughed.
She frowned and her jaw clenched and she had to remind herself to ignore him because Daryl was sitting in the passenger seat and quite frankly, she was sick of looking like a crazy person around Daryl - talking to thin air, arguing with a literal ghost. But Merle had been too quiet this whole time. He was beginning to grow restless, as he was so prone to do. It had been three whole hours since he last taunted and annoyed her and clearly, that was just too long for his liking.
"I think it's catchy," he drawled. And as the chorus began to echo through the cab of the truck, he sang along, "Allllll the good girls go to Hell! 'Cause even God Herself has enemies!"
Beth rolled her eyes but didn't turn her head to give him any attention. She could feel her face growing hot, but it was more frustration than embarrassment.
And yeah… maybe a little fear. All that talk of Heaven and Hell and Gifts and The Other Side, it was all rattling around in her head. Then a song like that had to start playing and now she was stuck on the idea of Hell and demons and souls and what if I help Daryl but I fail anyway and it all literally goes to Hell?
Also: how did Merle know just the way to get under her skin? She'd thought he couldn't get any worse, yet he kept proving her wrong.
"Don't forget about my new option," she muttered through clenched teeth, shooting Merle a sidelong glare.
His face fell and she saw his eyes flicking down to the idol sitting in the center console for the briefest second. He quickly feigned a smug smirk.
"You wouldn't," he said.
"Says who?"
He scowled. "Fuck you."
"Fuck you."
Daryl's head whipped around and he stared at Beth quizzically. "Huh? What'd you say?"
Beth looked over at Daryl and shook her head. "Nothin'."
He shrugged indifferently and went back to staring out the window. The radio changed to a new station entirely and Merle leaned back in his seat, muttering angrily under his breath.
They were still a solid hour away from the farm, passing through another small town, when Daryl finally spoke up.
"Pull inta one of those car washes, I'll spray the swamp mud off yer truck 'fore we take it back to yer old man," he instructed.
Beth nodded. "Good idea. I need to fill the tank up, too."
"Take this next left, there's a twenty-four hour car wash an' a gas station across the street."
She followed his directions and a few minutes later, pulled the truck into the car wash he'd been talking about. Before she could step out of the truck, he'd hopped out and put in money and started hosing off the big black Ford under the glow of outdoor fluorescent lights. Beth remained in her seat with the engine shut off, watching Daryl work since there wasn't anything she could really do to help.
"Yer bluffin', ain'tcha?"
She turned her head and looked back at Merle. His icy blue gaze was settled on her, his mouth set in an almost threatening line. She quickly turned back to stare out the windshield while Daryl sprayed mud off the grill.
"About what?" She asked innocently.
Merle scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me, princess. You ain't gonna use that new toy the Swamp Witch gave ya - ain't got the balls. 'S much as you hate me, there's no way you'd be able ta live with yerself knowin' you threw Daryl to the wolves."
Beth's hands clenched into fists in her lap and she forced herself not to turn around or give Merle the reaction he was so obviously looking for.
"The wolves being you an' yer best buddy, Papa Legba?" She asked coldly.
"Hah!" Merle barked out, though he was audibly unamused. "Not no more. You heard what that spearchucker said - whoever killed me is gonna come after Daryl next. An' you know just as well as I do that there's only so much ol' Merle can do ta stop it. Bein' fucking dead an' all."
Beth ignored the way her stomach twisted, watching Daryl with blank eyes as he struggled to wash off a particularly stubborn chunk of swamp muck.
"Doesn't mean I can't banish you an' still help Daryl," she muttered.
Merle chuckled. "Good luck with that. Might stop 'im from gettin' killed, but that don't mean it'd keep his soul outta Hell. Legba was awful clear 'bout that one - 's gotta be me that fixes my overgrown mistake of a baby brother. Y'all need me. Both of ya."
"No one needs you, Merle," Beth spat. "Least of all me or Daryl. Just remember that."
She'd hoped to wound his ego at least a little, but to her disappointment, he was genuinely amused and laughed loudly.
"Christ, you really do got a crush on Darylina, don'tcha?" He was quickly growing breathless with laughter. "Oh lord, an' here I was thinkin' it'd be hard ta get some prude like you into bed. I guess all ya need is an attitude and some God-awful fuckin' vest!"
Beth's face was suddenly warm and she wasn't sure why. She was about to make a remark but then Daryl was putting the hose away and preparing to climb back into the truck. So she bit back her comment and started the engine up. She wasn't about to be caught arguing about something she had no desire to explain. Merle took her silence as an admission of guilt.
"Yeah, so long as he's alive, you ain't goin' nowhere, blondie," he chuckled triumphantly from the backseat. "And neither am I."
Daryl didn't speak as they left the car wash and pulled into the gas station across the street except to say "be right back" as he hopped out and quickly began filling the tank up before Beth could unbuckle her seatbelt. She rolled down the window and tried to give him her debit card but he wouldn't take it, waving her off and grunting in disagreement. She thanked him but all the response she got was a clipped nod as he focused on fitting the gas nozzle into the Ford.
"Gee, what a gentleman," Merle chided sarcastically. Daryl abandoned the gas nozzle for a moment and jogged across the parking lot to enter the small gas station.
Beth ignored Merle's comment, pulling out her phone to find four missed calls from Maggie and a text asking when she would be home. She cleared the notifications and tucked her phone away.
"He must feel awful guilty," Merle went on. "You showed 'im a little pity, held his hand when he was feelin' all weepy. He's like a stray cat - feed him once an' he'll keep comin' around, expectin' more. Y'aint gonna be able ta shake 'im off now, sweetheart. Hope you like 'im enough ta put up with his whiny ass. He's a needy one, I'll tell ya what."
At that, she couldn't help but huff out a humorless laugh. Though she still didn't turn to face Merle, afraid he might see how pink her cheeks had become. Daryl emerged from the gas station with a plastic bag in hand, hurrying back over to finish gassing up the truck. Beth briefly glanced at Merle in the rearview mirror to find his narrowed eyes glaring a hole through her back.
She sighed, swallowing back a slew of words that wanted to expel from her mouth. Instead, she muttered, "You're an idiot."
"An' yer a stupid bitch with a stupid crush," Merle snapped back. "What else is new?"
"I don't have a crush on your brother, moron," she said. "I wanna help him because he's already proven to be a better person than you could've ever been."
Merle started, "And - "
"And that doesn't mean I won't banish you far the fuck away from me if you don't stop your antagonizing bullshit," she hissed. "So don't push it."
Before he could respond, Daryl was opening the passenger side door and climbing back into the truck.
He extracted a can of air freshener from the bag in his hand and held it out for her to see. "Ta get rid of the cigarette smell."
She smiled. "Oh - thanks."
He shrugged, placing the can in the empty spot next to the doghead idol.
"Almost home," he declared as Beth started up the engine and he buckled his seatbelt. "Step on it, Greene."
"Aye aye, Captain," she agreed light-heartedly.
Then she cranked the radio up to drown out Merle's taunting voice and began driving.
It was nearly a quarter past one in the morning when they reached the road that led to the Greene's farmhouse. Between mouthfuls of spicy beef jerky, Daryl requested that Beth stop the truck about a half-mile away from her long driveway so that the sound of his motorcycle engine wouldn't disturb any of her sleeping family members. She agreed and pulled over to the side of the road with the farmhouse in sight. Even from down the road, she could see that all the windows were dark, nothing but the porchlight and the security lights around the garage and barns left on. And there was a new car parked in front of the garage - Glenn's Mustang, Beth knew. She'd recognize its cherry red paint job anywhere.
Daryl hauled his bike out of the bed of the truck and returned the old piece of plywood to its original spot before slamming the tailgate shut. He climbed onto the bike and turned in the direction he'd be heading, pausing for a moment before he started up the engine. Beth was standing a few feet away, trying not to look awkward as she played over all the various things she wanted to say. She'd hesitated too long while they were driving, waiting for what felt like the right moment to speak up until the moments had all passed. Though he hadn't exactly seemed anxious to talk during the last hour of their trip.
But now, they had no choice other than to discuss their next step. Because she sure as hell wasn't about to play another game of phone tag with him.
She opened her mouth, but he interjected before she could voice her first suggestion. "I'll get a hold of Rick tomorrow, let 'im know we need ta talk to him. 'S it alright if I call ya around nine?"
She nodded. "Sure. I have breakfast with my family in the mornin', but I should be done by nine. So - you think talkin' to Rick is the first step we should take?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Don't you?"
She wasn't entirely sure. She'd thought a lot about their next plan of action during the long drive home, but she hadn't come to a decisive conclusion. Now that Daryl said it though, it made sense. Rick was law enforcement, after all. If they were going to get any real answers, he would be the best place to start. He might have access to information they wouldn't normally know. Or maybe he'd hear them out and feel compelled to help track down a suspected murderer. Either way, they'd been told that Rick Grimes played an inevitable role in the outcome of everything, so why not start with him?
Beth mulled it over for no more than a few seconds before nodding in agreement. "Yeah. I should probably talk to him anyway - just in case my dad happens to ask him about all the babysitting I've been doin'."
To her surprise, Daryl smirked. "Right. That, too…" He paused and cleared his throat, his frown quickly returning. "Uh - maybe we should keep all this between us fer now."
Beth quirked a brow. "All this? Like the dead brother's ghost an' the Swamp Witch an' that whole… thing?"
He gave a clipped nod. "Yeah. Jus' - might be kinda hard to explain, 'sall."
She rolled her eyes and flashed him a crooked smile. "Don't gotta tell me twice. It's not like I'm tryin' ta get a padded cell next to yours."
He grunted and the corner of his mouth curled upwards once more as he realized she was using his own words against him, though not spitefully. "Righ'. So I'll see ya tomorra, Greene?"
She smiled and turned to grasp the door handle of the big black Ford. "Bright an' early - but I'm not leavin' any voicemails this time. See ya tomorrow, Daryl Dixon."
"Y'think he's gonna go home ta that dyke-lookin' bitch an' talk about how much he hates me? Shit - I'll bet he's rushin' back to 'er with tears in his eyes. Fuckin' asshole. Bet he's gonna cry about his mean big brother, Merle, all goddamn night long. He was always too fuckin' soft fer his own damn good, all emotional an' shit."
Beth was trying to tune Merle out as she pulled her dad's truck into its usual spot at the end of the long driveway, out front of the farmhouse. She hoped that if she ignored him, he would just shut up. That hypothesis hadn't proven to be conclusive thus far, but it didn't mean she was ready to stop experimenting. He certainly seemed to hate being ignored, though it only ever made him louder and more annoying.
"Whadd'you think, blondie?" He prodded as she turned off the engine and gathered her purse and phone. "Y'think he's runnin' back home ta tell his precious li'l bestie all about how batshit you are?"
Beth rolled her eyes. "No." He doesn't wanna sound crazy right along with me. He won't tell anyone about what we went through today.
She grabbed the air freshener Daryl had bought and spritzed it half a dozen times, waving her hand to spread the fragrance around the cab and waft away the cigarette smell. She shoved the can into the glovebox before grabbing the Djab Idol and the hand-written spell from the cupholder. Then she opened the door and climbed out of the truck.
Merle appeared at her side as soon as she'd pressed the Lock button on the key fob and stepped away from the vehicle. She'd grown so used to him popping up that she didn't even flinch in surprise. The exhaustion seemed to be catching up with her all at once now that she knew she was just a few dozen steps away from her bed. She dragged her feet through the grass and towards the porch.
"No?! C'mon, you know he's talkin' shit," Merle insisted. "How much you wanna bet?"
She paused at the top of the steps and shot him a glare. "Aren't you done making bets you'll never win? Or did you not learn your lesson yet?"
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "You need a fuckin' nap. Yer gettin' on my damn nerves."
"Oh, I'm getting on your nerves?" Beth said bitterly. She glanced down at the idol clutched tightly in one hand, lifting it for him to see. "Maybe I should put a little more thought into usin' this thing after all."
Merle narrowed his eyes. "Stop jokin' about that, 's not fuckin' funny."
"Why?" She taunted. "'Cause you know I do have the balls to use it? 'Cause you know that if you keep pushing me, I won't just accept it an' keep helping you?"
He turned his head and spat on the ground, scowling. "Whatever. You wanna be a cunt, I ain't gonna stick around an' listen to it. I should be with Daryl anyhow - ya know, gotta make sure he ain't gonna get murdered while yer catchin' up on beauty sleep."
Beth sighed and took a step toward the backdoor. "Yeah, you do that."
"I will! How 'bout you make some use of a night alone an' go flick the bean or somethin'? Yer too fuckin' uptight."
She sputtered in repulsion, "Excuse me…?"
"If ya can't get laid, least you can do is rub one out," he went on, then he leaned back and cackled. "Trust me, blondie. You'll feel better. It's a stress reliever."
"Please disappear now," Beth said, turning away from him.
"Yeah, I am," Merle quipped. "But not 'cause you told me to. Don't get too comfortable - I'll be back."
At that, he disappeared. Thankfully.
She let out a deep sigh of relief and approached the backdoor of the dark and silent farmhouse. Just a few more minutes and she would be in bed - without Merle hovering nearby for once. And that was all she could really ask for after the day she'd had.
to be continued...
A/N: The song featured in this chapter is "all the good girls go to hell" by Billie Eilish.
