Family Dynamics
"Fine, I'll let ya have that one," Merle spat, jumping to his feet and uncrossing his arms. "Maybe I deserve it. But y'can't fault a man fer tryin', alrigh'? I'm tellin' ya the truth, aren't I? The hell else you want from me? I can't make the money reappear, can't pull it outta my ass an' pay off this Governor prick."
"You knew where that money came from," Beth argued, jabbing an accusatory finger in Merle's direction and struggling to keep her voice lowered. "And you still spent it! How could you?! Even if you didn't know about your dad's business partner, you knew that money should've gone to Daryl—of all people, it should've gone to the one who almost died because of it."
Merle slashed an arm through the air angrily. "Oh, fuck off! What's done is done, y'ain't gonna get nowhere lecturing a fuckin' dead guy about how he spent some money."
Beth sputtered, indignant. "Some money?! It was over a hundred grand, how the hell d'you just spend that much on yourself without even thinking about your brother?"
He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest once more and squaring his shoulders. "I don't fuckin' know, but I did it. And there ain't no gettin' it back now. It's gone. How 'bout you just be happy that The Governor won't ever see a dime of it? Ugly bastard don't deserve no reward after all this."
"The Governor never would've seen it anyway—me and Daryl and Rick would've made sure of that," she snapped. "But that's not the point."
"I told you I ain't proud! What more d'you want from me, woman?"
"Nothing. You're right, Daryl will hate your guts for this. And I won't blame him one bit."
Merle furrowed his brow, his frown deepening. "Why's he gotta know? 'S not important, it doesn't change anything—"
"Oh, it does," she interrupted. "It changes a lotta things. Like the fact that we thought we might be able to trust you when it came to saving your own soul. Shoulda known that was too much to expect from the likes of you."
"Ease up, blondie. I know what I did, alrigh'? And I waited ta tell you 'cause you fuckin' suck at hidin' yer emotions. How 'bout we just keep it between us? Daryl's better off thinkin' there wasn't ever any money left ta begin with."
"I don't care what you think he's better off knowing—you're the asshole who put Daryl's soul on the line to begin with! And y'know, makin' a deal with a demon isn't exactly the smartest idea. He promised you a nicer place in Hell, but what d'you think that really means? Y'know demons lie all the time, right? Like, you're aware of this well-known fact? So are you thinkin' maybe the fire won't be quite as hot? Maybe they'll let you have smoke breaks in between your torture sessions? 'Cause yer gonna have a lot to answer for, even if we do—"
"SHUT the fuck UP already!"
Merle flickered and disappeared, reappearing inches away from Beth's face a split-second later. His own face was bright red with anger, and spittle flew from his lips as he yelled, jabbing a finger that she couldn't feel into her chest.
"I've been helpin' yer ditzy ass out through this whole fuckin' thing—'member?! It was because of me that you finally fuckin' tracked Daryl down! Ya stubborn li'l bitch! You think I don't know how bad I fucked up?! Y'think I don't see the goddamn error of my ways by now? There ain't no takin' it back, the money's GONE!"
Beth merely narrowed her eyes, lips pursed tightly as she glared back at him, unfazed by his temper tantrum. "Were you lying about remembering your death, too?"
He took a step back, clearly caught off-guard by her question. He gave her an indignant look and said, "No! What the fuck? I never even lied about the money, y'just didn't ask me about it! Not exactly, anyway. How was I s'posed ta know it'd have anything ta do with my murder?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. "Why else would someone wanna kill you? How could you have possibly thought that much money would've just gone… unnoticed? You had to've known that your dad didn't pull that off all on his own."
Merle's face was fading from red to pale white rather quickly. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never got a name. That asshole wouldn't fuckin' spill it. I had to break both his wrists 'fore he'd even tell me where the money was stashed."
Beth's breath hitched in her chest and she blinked, taken aback. "You'd better be joking right now."
"Does it look like I'm jokin', blondie?"
She didn't know what to say to that. She just frowned, glaring at the dead Dixon with disgust.
He licked his lips and squared his shoulders, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The corner of his mouth twitched, though he remained scowling. His voice came out lower, still sharp with anger and resentment, but Beth could detect the slightest hint of sadness underneath his icy tone.
"I knew 'bout that insurance scam fer years. So did half the fuckin' town. Never made no difference. That stubborn old bastard wasn't ever gonna 'fess up. I couldn't even be all that mad—the hell was there ta be mad about? Daryl didn't die. I got a bunch a free crystal outta the whole thing, a reliable income, an inheritance that wouldn't've existed otherwise… shit, if ya ask me, our ma got the best deal outta everybody. If she didn't die in that fire, she woulda eventually taken a beating that she couldn't get back up from. She got a one-way ticket outta the Dixon family altogether… Good fer her. An' she was never no good fer Daryl—too soft, too forgiving, too weak. Coddled him too damn much. Couldn't do fuck-all ta protect his sorry li'l ass. It was always me. If it wasn't fer reliable ol' Merle, crybaby Daryl wouldn'ta made it past puberty."
Beth bit her tongue, holding back a slew of insults. It seemed Merle was always finding new ways to shock and appall her.
He shrugged, almost indifferent, and a malicious glint appeared in his eyes. The corner of his mouth curled upward and he said, "I reckoned I'd find that money eventually. I knew he didn't spend it all, knew he'd hidden half somewhere. He was always mumblin' under his breath about some 'safety net' that his parasitic sons would never get their hands on… So yeah, I knew 'bout the scam, I knew 'bout the money. But I never planned on killing him. Then I saw them scars on Daryl's back. Sneaky little fucker kept 'em hidden all these years, never told me just how bad it got while I was overseas."
He paused and barked out a humorless laugh, squinting at Beth. "Yer boy can lie just as well as me, blondie. And don't you forget it. We was both raised the same way. We don't say shit unless there's somethin' ta be had for us."
Beth swallowed hard. She wanted to argue, but then she realized… maybe he was right. Daryl was a Dixon before he was anything else. And if anyone knew him, it was Merle. She'd only just met him less than a week ago, after all.
"I didn't think 'bout the money till I already had the knife to my pa's throat," Merle went on. "And that's the truth. I was seein' red. I was out fer blood. When I finally got around to askin' him how he pulled it off—how the fuck he managed to buy into such a huge plan an' set it all up so there was no criminal investigation—he laughed at me… Sat there with a busted face an' two broken wrists… And he fucking laughed at me."
His smirk disappeared and Beth could see the fury sparking to life in his expression. She watched him swallow thickly, jaw tensed, muscles tight.
Then he let out a huff of breath and finished flatly, "So I slid my blade across his throat till he stopped laughing."
Beth didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until her lungs began to ache. She slowly let it out, deflating in more ways than one.
Merle shrugged and casually added, "Maybe I woulda split the money with Daryl if he hadn't stopped talkin' to me. But I called him, and he didn't answer. So I didn't try again. Not my fault he couldn't pull his head out of his ass an' realize he needed me. I ain't one to go beggin' fer somebody's attention neither."
Beth merely scoffed. "Coulda fooled me."
Merle disappeared after another angry, profanity-laden rant about how "ungrateful" and "difficult" Beth was being. And though she knew she probably should have, she didn't bother trying to call him back. She still had a lot of questions for him, including whether he knew what they'd discovered from Rick and the Sheriff's Department.
But she was admittedly too exhausted to delve any farther into it for the night. There was a lot to process from the day, and she knew there was nothing more she could do until after the memorial anyway, so she opted to take advantage of the peace and quiet while she had it. Besides, she had a feeling Merle would be reappearing to bother her before she got the chance to go to bed.
She changed into sweatpants and a lightweight sweater and went downstairs to find Maggie waiting for her. Beth scarfed down the plate of food that had been saved for her before joining her sister on the back porch with two glasses of lemonade.
While the rest of the Greene family sat inside and chatted away, Beth and Maggie sat in the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and talked over the chirping of crickets and hooting of owls. Beth kept her voice low as she started with revealing the patricide and the insurance scam and the tens of thousands of dollars that had become the origin story for an intricately-weaved tale of family strife and murder. She tried to ignore her sister's expression of shock and awe as she went through the timeline and laid out all the gruesome facts.
Maggie remained silent, surprisingly free of judgment, listening with wide eyes and a slack jaw as Beth described what had happened at the cabin, what had been discovered at the Sheriff's Department, what she'd experienced after touching a piece of evidence. She recounted the events of the day, relaying all the new information she'd learned, spilling her heart out to her older sister and voicing all her doubts and fears for the first time all day. She finished with a lament about how confusing her Gift was proving to be.
Maggie nodded along and offered quiet words of encouragement where she could. And when she had no good advice to give, she simply assured Beth that everything would work out as it should. Which Beth didn't exactly believe, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
They'd been talking for close to an hour when Beth's phone vibrated from the pocket of her sweatpants. It was a text message from Daryl.
Did Merle show back up yet?
She quickly texted back, though she hesitated and reworded the message about half a dozen times before pressing Send.
Yeah. I asked him about the money…
Daryl responded within seconds: He spent it, didn't he?
Her heart skipped and she sent a reply: He didn't want me to tell you. I was a little scared to, but you have to know that the money did exist and that it's already gone. How did you know?
Less than a minute later, her phone screen lit up with his next text message: It's Merle. I know him. Why were you scared to tell me? Not like I'd be mad at you. Not your fault.
She wasn't sure why, but reading that gave her a bit of relief. She texted back even quicker than before, her fingers flying across the screen as she typed.
Idk. It just makes everything harder. Now we really have no choice but to deal with The Governor head on because what he wants is already gone.
When his next text arrived thirty seconds later, she couldn't help but hear Daryl's voice in her head. And she smiled to herself.
We were never gonna give him what he wants. Unless he wants trouble. Cuz that's what we got for him.
She was typing back a response when a second message arrived: Don't worry. We'll get him. A psychic and a redneck, remember?
Her smile grew wider.
"Is that Daryl?"
Beth stopped typing and looked up to see Maggie watching her curiously, eyebrows raised.
She quickly locked her phone, shoving it back into her pocket. "I was just telling him about what Merle said."
"So did he take it well?" Maggie urged. Beth had already told her that she was nervous to relay the news about the money for fear of how angry or hurt he might be.
She shrugged. "He pretty much already guessed that was the case, so he's not surprised. Doesn't seem too upset either. I just… don't know what he's planning."
"For what?"
"For The Governor. Like… how are we gonna get rid of him if we can't pay him off?"
"Get him arrested? Duh. You have Rick on y'all's side."
"If we can find anything to get him arrested for. Rick's not opening a whole investigation fer this, he already made that perfectly clear. He's pretty much goin' rogue on the whole thing, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure that he's not supposed to be doin' half the stuff he's doing for us."
Maggie hmphed thoughtfully. Then she said, "Well… if Merle thinks he can haunt somebody to death, why doesn't he just haunt The Governor to death? Seems like the simplest solution to me."
Beth laughed, shaking her head. "We have to find him first. Merle might be a ghost, but he's not a bloodhound."
"Damn." Maggie pursed her lips and glanced away in contemplation.
But Beth was thinking about something else. Something that had begun to settle at the back of her head and slowly gnaw away at her conscience. Something that made her terribly uneasy.
"I… ya know, Merle lies. A lot. And he—I dunno. I know Daryl is a good person. And I don't think he'd lie about any of this, not to me and definitely not to Rick. But…"
Maggie furrowed her brow, frowning. She leaned on the arm of the rocking chair with her legs criss-crossed in front of her. "Bethy, don't do this."
Beth paused, blinking. "Do what?"
"Start doubting yourself," Maggie responded plainly. "This isn't the time for it. You're already in way too deep to be thinkin' it might not be worth it."
"I'm not saying it might not be worth it," Beth argued. "I just—I don't wanna be taken advantage of. Or made a fool. You're the one who said I have a choice. You said I shouldn't be a doormat."
"Yeah, but this isn't what I meant," Maggie countered. "Just this mornin', you were telling me, without a shred of uncertainty, that Daryl Dixon is a good man. You were telling me that he didn't grow up like us, that he's different for a reason. And that it doesn't make him any less worthy of your help. So why would you let his asshole brother change your mind? Merle is dead. Daryl's not. There's a reason for that, Beth."
Beth opened her mouth and shut it again. She glanced away, staring down at her hands. But she still couldn't get Merle's words out of her head. Why did she care now? Why was she suddenly letting the worst Dixon get to her? It had been so easy to take everything he said with a grain of salt. Until now. What had changed?
She wasn't sure. But something had changed. And now she was feeling more uncertain than ever. More terrified for the future, for the fate of Daryl's soul, for what else they might uncover along this treacherous path of murder and money and revenge.
Sure, Daryl was different. But once again, she was finding herself wondering: was he different enough?
"Hey," Maggie chirped up, demanding Beth's attention. "You remember that Bradley kid I told you about? The one I had a crush on in middle school?"
Beth met her sister's eyes with slight confusion. "The one you said Florence Newton mentioned?"
Maggie nodded in affirmation, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans and going silent for a second while she unlocked the screen and opened an app. "Yeah—remember how she predicted he'd be a 'heartbreaker' one day?"
Beth watched her curiously, waiting. "Yeah…"
A few long moments later, Maggie was holding her phone out so Beth could see the screen as she explained, "And once again, she was right. I kinda forgot about him until I told you about the Witch an' everything she saw. So I got curious and looked him up on Facebook."
Beth saw his profile displayed on Maggie's phone screen: his profile picture was him posing with a blonde woman, and his cover photo was a picture of five red-headed children, all under the ages of ten.
Maggie's voice was full of amusement when she said, "That's his fourth wife. I did some lurking on his profile an' from the sounds of it, he cheated on the first three. After he knocked 'em up a couple times, of course. He doesn't have custody. And this wife just posted an ultrasound, so I think he got her pregnant, too."
"Holy crap," Beth muttered, staring at the screen until it was pulled away.
Maggie smirked and closed the app, locking her phone and putting it back into her pocket. "I know, right? Florence called it… he really did turn out to be a heartbreaker."
Beth shrugged. "Guess so."
Then Maggie looked at her expectantly and added, "She was right about everything, Beth."
Beth frowned. "I know."
Maggie's eyebrows rose higher and she spoke more intently, "Remember what I told you about her prediction for you? 'Cause I feel like you already brushed it off as bullshit."
No. Beth remembered. And she most certainly had not brushed it off. Not in the slightest.
"He is caked in shards of shattered glass yet his soul glows bright and pure, clinging desperately to the remains of the man he is meant to be."
But right now, the part that was echoing loudest was far more ominous.
"This man will turn her life upside-down."
Beth still couldn't figure out if that prediction had been referring to Merle or Daryl. She was almost scared to find out.
"I'm not brushing it off," she said, staring back into Maggie's green eyes with shaky determination. "But I'm not puttin' all my stakes into it, either. What Florence said could be interpreted a lot of ways…"
"No, it really couldn't," Maggie said sharply. "He may not be the man he's meant to be just yet, but who is? Don't listen to the guy who sold his own brother's soul to a demon… And don't go lettin' yer doubts get the best of you when other people are relying on you to be strong."
Beth felt a knot forming in her throat and quickly forced it down. But she'd already caught Maggie's meaningful glance towards her left wrist. She'd already interpreted the silent reference to a time when she'd buckled under pressure in the worst way possible.
Maggie's voice was softer, more reassuring, when she quietly added, "You can do this, Bethy. Because you want to do it. I can hear it in the way you talk about it. I haven't seen you this passionate about something in… years. And I think it's good. It might be dangerous, but you're smart. I believe in you. You're not a teenager anymore—you're a woman. You can make the right decisions and you can see people for what they really are. And look what you did today—in one day; you had two huge visions, you busted open like a dozen leads that would've taken months to find if not for your Gift!" She spoke with the kind of confidence and blind determination that Beth had always wished she could attain. "You have way more gifts than the obvious one. This shit would be wasted on anybody else, because they wouldn't know how to use it like you do. So don't let some asshole dead guy discourage you. I think Daryl needs you… And I think you need this. 'Cause you need to know what you're really capable of."
Beth fought back a sudden wave of tears. She felt stupid for wanting to cry, but at the same time, it was difficult not to when her sister was telling her exactly all the things she needed to hear right now.
"And what if… I'm not capable of this? What if I screw it up? What if I can't save Daryl's soul with my stupid Gift? With any of my stupid gifts?"
Maggie shrugged nonchalantly and flashed a crooked smile. "Then you'll figure it out. Daryl's fate isn't set in stone just yet. And you're not in this alone; you have Rick, you have a Swamp Witch, you have a whole family to support you. Whatever happens won't be the end of the world. And no matter how it ends… at the very least, you can say you tried. You're givin' everything you've got. No one can fault you for that. Especially when you had a choice to walk away the whole time."
Beth sighed, frustrated. "This isn't an A for effort kinda situation, though. This is literally gonna decide what happens to Daryl's soul for eternity."
"And… you think he hasn't grasped the gravity of that fact?"
"Well, of course he has, but—"
"But nothing. He's not stupid. You've made that pretty clear. So why d'you suddenly think he'd be stupid enough ta lie to you? About anything? To risk his own soul?"
Beth had nothing to say to that. She shrugged awkwardly.
Maggie smirked. "He might have some serious childhood trauma, but he obviously trusts you. And it sounds like he believes in what you can do. So follow suit an' trust your instincts, Bethy. You have a Gift. Keep learning how to control it and pretty soon, you'll be in control of everything."
Beth looked away, gazing out across the yard with trepidation.
A long moment of silence passed between them, during which Beth attempted to slow her racing mind. She tried to let her sister's words sink in, tried to believe in them the way Maggie seemed to believe in them. She tried to remember that both Pastor Theodore and Lady Jadis had given her similar sentiments, and that Morgan had doubted Merle every step of the way, yet he hadn't once doubted Daryl. Nor had he doubted Beth.
But what did that matter? It wouldn't mean shit if she screwed up. All their advice and words of encouragement would be for nothing if Daryl's soul succumbed to the clutches of Papa Legba.
And maybe it wasn't so much that she was afraid of Daryl lying… Maybe it was just that she was afraid of lying to him. Not purposely, of course. But if she couldn't keep him out of Hell, then she may as well have lied to him. Because she would be letting him down. Breaking her word. Dropping the ball when it mattered most, once again.
There'd been a split-second inside Morgan's house, when he'd pointed out her scar and explained why she was so goddamn Gifted, that she'd feared Daryl's judgment. She'd feared his anger, his disappointment, his complete loss of belief in her. Because surely, she'd thought, he would see the scar and find out that she'd tried to take the easy way out after watching her mama die, and then he'd know. God help her, he would know.
He'd know she was weak. He'd know she was unreliable. He'd know she was no one special, and that she couldn't help herself—so how the hell could she ever be expected to help anyone else? Let alone him? How could he ever put his faith into someone who clearly didn't deserve it? How could he ever lean on someone so lacking in strength for the support he desperately needed? He'd know she was nothing more than a naive little farmer's daughter who was cursed with something that she would never be capable of understanding.
He'd know that he was wasting his time even talking to her.
Then Maggie chuckled, breaking the silence with a light-hearted comment. "Hell, maybe you'll be the next Witch of Youghal, or Swamp Witch or whatever."
Beth rolled her eyes, forcing out a soft laugh.
But she was secretly wondering if there was any truth to be found in that statement. Or if this was all a fruitless endeavor that was bound to end in heartache and disappointment.
"He will be searching for a light amongst the darkness and he will find it lying within the Greene Farm."
Could Beth be that light despite the circumstances? Or would she flicker and fade like a burnt-out bulb under the pressure of it all?
to be continued…
