Oh, Brother
Beth felt like she was wading through mud as she rose to consciousness. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she took in a deep breath, letting it out quickly just to take in another. Her mind was a hazy jumble, and at first, she couldn't remember anything.
Then she recalled her meditation session. And she willed herself to remember what came after. It returned to her, flashing through her head on a replay. Her heartbeat sped up and she couldn't help asking herself if that had really happened or if it had been some kind of crazy lucid dream.
But no, she knew better. It was way more than a lucid dream. She'd channelled it, controlled her Gift, figured out how to summon the Witch of Youghal and ask for advice. Over a nice cup of tea, no less.
She'd finally gotten some damn answers. And, to her surprise, had been assured that she was doing everything correctly. Or at least, she was on the right path. Which is all she really wanted.
She turned her head to look at her alarm clock and saw that it was only three minutes before her alarm was set to go off. But when she raised her hand to reach for her phone, she realized there was something clutched tightly in her palm.
It was the silky white handkerchief Florence had given her. And as she unfolded it and studied it, she saw that it was monogrammed: embroidered into the corner were the initials BG. In the opposite corner were three tiny animals sewn intricately into the fabric: a dark green alligator, a brown owl, and a black crow.
Beth's heart skipped and she quickly sat up, turning the handkerchief over in her hands and inspecting it closely. How had she come back with this? And where had Florence gotten it?
And what kind of message was she trying to send by leaving it with Beth?
She reached over and lay the handkerchief down gently atop her nightstand. Another piece of a much larger puzzle that she would have to slowly put together.
Then she grabbed her phone, unplugging it from the charger and opening her alarms to disable them. There was a new text from Daryl waiting for her, and it had just arrived less than five minutes ago.
You've been plenty of help. Don't want you blowing off your family for this. They're more important.
Beth was reminded of how he'd hesitated and grown tense the night before, when he was dropping her off. How he was suddenly worried that her family would "get the wrong idea." Whatever that meant.
Was he really so concerned with the idea of people thinking they were friends? Or that they were seeing each other? Was he embarrassed to be thought of that way?
Was he embarrassed of her?
She texted back, "More important than finding the guy who wants to murder you? Please, Daryl. I'm not blowing them off. Just let me worry about it, okay? You need to focus on helping me find Philip and control Merle."
As soon as she hit Send, she typed out another message and sent it right after: "Have you talked to Rick yet?"
She sat in bed for a few minutes, glancing back and forth between her phone and the handkerchief on her nightstand. She wondered where Merle was, but she quickly decided she didn't much care. She'd rather he stay gone until she needed him, anyway. He would come back around before long.
When Daryl didn't text back after a good five minutes, Beth got out of bed and set her phone aside. And as she grabbed a clean outfit and headed for the shower, she hoped there would be a new text waiting for her when she returned.
After a hot, mind-clearing shower, Beth spent a few moments applying some light makeup and braiding her hair into one long braid. She opted for jeans and a long-sleeved tee, as well as her favorite pair of boots. And once she was ready for the day, she grabbed her phone and unlocked it.
Just as she'd hoped, there was a new text from Daryl, which had arrived while she'd been getting dressed:
Whatever you say, Greene. Yep just talked to him. Said he'll be free for a couple hours around noon. Offered to pick us up.
She smiled to herself and quickly texted back, "Okay, sounds good. Text me when y'all are on the way."
A few seconds later, he responded with a thumbs up emoji. Beth was still smiling.
By the time she got downstairs and walked into the kitchen, Maggie and Glenn were working on cleaning up from breakfast. Beth could see Hershel and Shawn through the screen door, standing across the backyard and talking to one of the farmhands. The coffeemaker on the counter was churning out a fresh pot, the rich smell filling the air and mixing with the scent of recently cooked bacon.
"Morning," Beth greeted, heading straight for the coffeepot and grabbing a mug from the cupboard above it.
"Oh, look who's up," Glenn greeted with a smile.
"Mornin', sleepyhead," Maggie said, drying her hands on a dishtowel while Glenn scrubbed remnants of soggy food from the sink basin. "We just finished breakfast. Saved you an omelette—it's in the microwave."
Beth topped off her cup of coffee and returned the pot. "Oh, thanks." She went over to the microwave and opened the door to find a lukewarm omelette and a serving of hash browns waiting for her on a plate.
Glenn finished his task and gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek. "Guess I better go get ready for some horseback riding."
She gave him a playful smack on the arm. "Yeah, you'd better. Wear those boots I got for ya."
He chuckled and gave Beth a wave as he left the kitchen and headed towards the stairs.
Beth sat down at the table with her food and cup of coffee, giving Maggie a curious look. "Yer gonna take him out ridin'?"
Maggie shrugged and leaned back against the counter. "Yeah, why not? He's gotta learn sometime if he's gonna be part of the family." She laughed.
Beth began digging into her omelette, nodding in agreement. "That's true," she said through a mouthful of egg, bacon, and peppers.
There was a beat, then Maggie asked, "So how'd it go yesterday?" She approached the table and sat down in the chair across from Beth, lowering her voice. "I never got the chance to ask you last night. You said you were goin' to some place in the city, right? Did y'all find anything out?"
Beth slowed her eating and nodded, meeting her sister's gaze warily. "Yeah. Merle wasn't much help, but Daryl's pretty good at thinkin' on his feet. We found out The Governor's real name, and Rick offered to take us to another place today to see what else we can dig up."
Maggie's eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. "Seriously? What's his name?"
"Philip Blake," Beth replied. "He did some time in prison. But we can't find an address or anything for him."
"Damn," Maggie said. "So where're you gonna go today?"
"His old workplace," Beth said, glancing down at her plate as she took another bite. She chewed and swallowed before adding, "I… tried somethin' last night."
Maggie furrowed her brow and frowned. "With Daryl, or—?"
Beth felt her cheeks burning and looked at her sister indignantly. "What—no! I mean, with my Gift."
"Oh," Maggie snickered. "Right."
Beth rolled her eyes. "Yer so annoying."
"Pfft," Maggie scoffed. "It was just a guess. I thought you meant… ya know."
"Shut up," Beth snapped, staring down at her breakfast and trying to hide her bright red cheeks. She quickly changed the subject by adding, "I looked up some stuff, and I meditated. I think I figured out how to control this thing a little bit. 'Cause when I went to sleep, I was able to talk to Florence Newton."
Maggie's eyes went wide again and her jaw dropped. "Seriously? How?"
Beth shoved the last bite of her omelette into her mouth and chewed slowly, shrugging. When she finally swallowed, she chased it with a swig of warm coffee. Then she answered, "I just… focused. It's hard to explain, but I kinda like, channeled my Gift. I guess I summoned her or somethin'."
"And what'd you talk about? What'd she tell you?"
"Lots of stuff. I mean… I dunno, we kinda—"
She was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots clomping across the porch, immediately followed by the screen door creaking open and slamming shut. Beth and Maggie looked over and saw Shawn entering the kitchen, an expression of agitation on his face. He headed straight for the coffeepot and began filling up his thermos.
"Mornin'," Beth greeted.
He grunted and, without turning around, asked, "You gonna help us today? Or you gonna go runnin' off with that Dixon guy again?"
Beth exchanged a look of unhappy surprise with Maggie before replying, "What d'you need help with? Could've just asked me, ya know. I don't have any plans till noon."
Maggie chimed in, "What're you actin' so huffy for?"
Shawn scoffed, turning around to face his sisters. "I'm not. Just gettin' tired of Beth ditchin' her chores to go fool around with some old man."
"I'm not ditching my chores," Beth argued. "And Daryl's not an old man. If you need help with something, why don't you try usin' yer words for once? Dad hasn't said anything about—"
"Dad thinks you've been cooped up around here for too long," Shawn snapped back. "And he's not gonna say anything 'cause he feels bad. But that don't mean he ain't pissed about you blowin' us off all week to hang out with a Dixon."
The way he said Daryl's last name was like he'd tasted something unpleasant and spit it out, and it grated on Beth's nerves.
"Shawn, stop it," Maggie interjected. "Beth has a right to her own life. You don't need to be a dick about it."
"Easy to say when you can run back to Atlanta anytime you want," Shawn said, scowling at his older sister. "Yer not the one who has to pick up the slack around here."
Beth opened her mouth to defend herself, but Maggie beat her to it.
"And how d'you think yer gonna pick up all that slack once she moves out and starts her own life? If taking over the farm is too much pressure, you need to say somethin' to Dad so he can hire more help."
"You know we can't afford that shit," Shawn barked.
Maggie was about to say something else, but Beth interjected quickly.
"I'll do my chores, okay? Just tell me what you need done and I'll take care of it," she said, keeping her tone steady and attempting to play mediator in the hopes of preventing a loud fight between her siblings. "I'm not blowin' anything off."
She hated listening to them argue, talking about her like she wasn't sitting right there. And she really didn't want to approach the subject of her moving out or not right now. Why did Maggie have to bring that up? As if it were set in stone or something. Which it very much was not. Beth had no plans to move out anytime soon, especially when she knew it would mean leaving Shawn and their dad high and dry. She couldn't do that to them.
Besides, she couldn't say Shawn didn't have a right to be upset. She'd definitely been slacking on her chores ever since Merle showed up. And yeah, her daddy had been really understanding thus far, and if he'd wanted to say something, he certainly hadn't made it obvious. But if they were as short-handed as Shawn was making it seem, then that could only mean that he was right: Hershel was taking pity on his youngest daughter because he thought she was making a new friend for the first time in seven years. And the very last thing she wanted was her father's pity.
"Well, fer a start, the chickens're supposed to be your responsibility," Shawn chided, taking a swig of coffee and glaring across the kitchen at his younger sister. "And since Otis is gonna be out fer the next eight weeks, that means he won't be around ta do yer job for you no more."
Beth frowned, and Maggie interjected before she could respond.
"Why's Otis out? What happened?"
Shawn rolled his eyes and sneered in Maggie's general direction. "Patricia's gettin' that surgery on her back and they're gonna be stayin' down in Savannah with her sister so she's closer to her doctor. Ain't you talked to them at all in the last few months?"
Beth looked over at her sister to see Maggie blinking, a bit dumbfounded. She shook her head and said, a bit ashamed, "I've only seen 'em a couple times, neither of 'em mentioned anything about it."
Shawn scoffed and took three long strides across the kitchen, stopping in front of the back door. He glanced at Beth and said, "I gotta get back to work, but if you feel like comin' out an' makin' yerself useful for once, come find me. I got plenty a chores for ya."
Then he was shoving the screen door open and leaving the kitchen, boots clomping loudly across the wooden porch as the door swung shut behind him. He didn't even give Beth a chance to respond.
Maggie crossed her arms over her chest and huffed out a breath of exasperation, turning to face Beth once more with a heavy frown on her face. "He hasn't changed one damn bit since he was five. Still throwin' fits whenever he feels like he ain't gettin' enough attention."
Beth shrugged, pushing away the remaining half-serving of hash browns on the plate in front of her, her appetite suddenly gone. "He can be a jerk, but you know how Shawn is; he lets it all build up an' then he explodes outta nowhere. He hasn't said a word about any of this until now, so I dunno how he expects me to just know."
Maggie smirked and flashed a light-hearted smirk. "Well you are s'posed to be psychic, aren't ya?"
Beth rolled her eyes, suppressing a chuckle.
But in actuality, she didn't find any part of this very funny at all. She was caught up in a murder mystery-slash-paranormal adventure, meanwhile her family was still struggling to get by and her brother was upset that she was pushing them aside for seemingly no reason.
Sure, he could've communicated his feelings in a slightly more mature way, but then again, he was Shawn. And he had a pattern that Beth was very familiar with. And it was probably a little jarring for him to see his baby sister suddenly slacking off and disappearing for hours on end every single day over the last week.
Plain and simple, there was no excuse for it. She still had a duty to her dad and her brother, and the farm that she called home. If she could figure out how to balance her Gift and keep a dealmaking demon from invading her mind, then surely she could figure out how to balance her little Witch adventure with her everyday responsibilities.
Or at least, she could try.
Maggie volunteered to help Beth with the chickens, and they both avoided Shawn for the time being. While they were alone, Beth continued explaining what she'd discussed with Florence Newton and tried to answer all of Maggie's curious questions to the best of her ability.
She didn't try to approach Shawn until Maggie had already wandered off towards the horse stables with Glenn. And when she did, she found her older brother loading up the battered, white Suzuki mini-truck with feed for the cattle.
Beth approached him just as he was hoisting the last couple of bags into the bed, his brown hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and a look of determination set on his face. He turned around and paused when he saw her, though she knew he'd heard her approaching.
"You need a to-do list or sum'n?" He asked, frowning.
She sighed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I finished with the chickens and Maggie said she an' Glenn would take care of the horses today. So I figured I'd help you feed the cattle. Is that okay?"
Shawn shrugged and turned away, walking to the driver's side door and opening it. "Do whatever you want. 'S long as shit gets done."
Beth hmphed in frustration and walked quickly to the passenger's side, whipping the door open and plopping down in the seat before slamming the door shut beside her. Shawn had already closed his door and was starting up the quiet Suzuki. His mouth was set in a hard line and he was keeping his eyes forward, visibly tense in his seat.
They drove away, rumbling over hills and through valleys, and Beth kept her mouth shut, waiting for her brother to speak. But he remained silent, even when they stopped and he got out to open the gate. He muttered an "okay" when she offered to step out and close the gate behind them, but didn't speak again once she'd gotten back into the truck. They sped through the yellow-green fields, a herd of cattle grazing in the distance.
Beth finally spoke up: "Givin' me the silent treatment isn't gonna solve anything, ya know."
Shawn grunted and tightened his one-hand grasp on the steering wheel. "Ain't givin' you no different treatment than what I give everybody else."
"Exactly," Beth agreed. "And that's what's bullshit about it. I'm your sister, Shawn. You have to communicate with me."
"Why would I do that? 'S like talkin' to a damn brick wall. Yer jus' gonna do what you wanna do anyway, don't matter what I say. Just like Maggie."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know what it means."
He took a hard left and the vehicle jerked, startling Beth. But she retained her composure and scowled over at her brother with discontent. The cattle had taken notice of them and spotted the feed bags and began mooing while following the white Suzuki.
"Shawn, I'm not gonna abandon you and Dad," she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the cries of the cows that were currently surrounding and trotting after them. "I know that's what you're thinkin'. But Maggie doesn't speak for me. I don't have any plans to move out. Not anytime soon… If that's what yer afraid of."
Shawn scoffed and slammed on the brake, shoving the gearstick into Park and refusing to so much as glance over at Beth. "I'm not afraid. I'm just gettin' pretty goddamn sick of coverin' the asses of a bunch'a people who wouldn't even dream of doin' the same fer me."
He got out of the truck, slamming his door shut behind him, and Beth followed suit.
"Like who?" She asked as they converged at the back of the truck and each grabbed a heavy bag. "I—"
He interrupted her, voice raised and angry, "Like Otis, who didn't even bother to mention a fuckin' word about Patricia's surgery till three months after they started searchin' Savannah fer a doctor." He finally turned to look at her and his scowl deepend, but he quickly turned back and began busying himself with unloading a bag of feed while he spouted off. "Like Maggie, who didn't give a damn what kinda work she was leavin' behind when she decided to stay in Atlanta full-time an' settle down with some pizza delivery boy—who cares, right? We'll make do, so long as Daddy's precious eldest daughter continues the family bloodline."
Beth had grabbed her own bag of feed and followed after him, carrying the bags to the trough while eager cattle surrounded them. He continued, his tone laced with spite, "Or like you. Always playin' up your position as the baby in the family, hittin' Dad's soft spot every chance ya get. He ain't gonna ask you to step up and take part 'cause he doesn't wanna risk pushin' you back into that behavior you had when Mom died. 'S long as you get the attention ya need, from somebody, Dad or Dixon, we gotta be okay with it and—"
She slammed her bag down in the trough and cut him off.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Is that really how you feel, Shawn?" Beth glared at her brother as they stood beside the trough, anxious cattle surrounding and closing in on them and crying for food. "'Cause yer bein' a pretty big asshole right now. I'm sorry that all this crap fell on you like it has, but yer takin' some things to heart that have nothin' at all to do with you or this farm."
He sneered and pulled a knife from his belt, flipping it open and recklessly slicing open the bags. Sixty pounds of feed poured out and filled the troughs, and Beth waited for him to try and defend himself.
But he didn't. He pursed his lips and his jaw ticked to the side, like he wanted to say more but was holding it back.
So Beth went on, a bit softer and a lot more pained, "You really think I did what I did after Mom died because I wanted attention? Is that what you honestly think of me…?"
She watched him grab up the empty bags and followed him back to the truck, where he tossed them into the bed and moved to grab another full bag. But then he stopped and hesitated. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, though she stared at him the whole time. Finally, he turned to face her again.
Shawn sighed. "No, Bethy… I—I'm just so pissed off. I'm tired, alrigh'? Ain't I allowed to be a little goddamn exhausted by all the bullshit around me? We've been strugglin' to get by fer the better part of a decade now, an' I'm startin' to think it's never gonna get any better. So where do I go from here? When I see both my sisters movin' on, focusing their lives on some guys, while my dad's slowly dying? What the hell else am I supposed to do?"
Beth was taken aback. All she could say was, "Daddy's not dying…"
"Yes he is, Beth. Don't lie to yourself. We both know it." Shawn sighed again, his tone growing soft and somewhat remorseful, and glanced away from her. "And that's okay. He's old. It's gonna be his time soon. Maybe he's got five more years—ten at most. But we all know it's comin'. And that means we're gonna have a pretty big decision to make…"
She did know it was coming. Of course she knew. She wasn't stupid. Her daddy was old and he was deteriorating a little more every year, and that was part of the reason she'd been frightened of Merle in the first place. Because no matter what other kind of power the dead Dixon claimed to hold over her head, the most dangerous was the life of her father.
Hershel was fragile. His remaining time was limited. He was capable of less and less with every month that passed. He was growing weaker and withering away right before her eyes. He knew it, even if he never spoke of it. And so did his children.
But dammit, that was a hard fact to face and accept so boldly like Shawn had. Beth was experiencing a very sudden and very intense sadness from the realization that her brother was carrying all this weight on his shoulders.
How had she not noticed before this? She was supposed to be Gifted. She was supposed to be in-tune with things like this. Yet it had completely surpassed her observations.
How was she supposed to fix Daryl's family problems when she couldn't even fix her own?
She was still searching for the proper response when Shawn turned back to the bed of the truck, hoisting out a heavy bag and handing it over to Beth. She took it and carried it on her shoulder, following after him while he led the way to the next trough in the line, a bag of feed propped up on his shoulder as well.
"Whatever decision we make will be the right one," she said decisively, dropping her bag down into the trough beside her brother's while he pulled out his knife to cut them open. "We'll make it work. We always do." The cattle that weren't already eating at the first trough had surrounded them again, and she and Shawn had to shove their way through a small herd to get back to the truck with empty bags in their hands.
"Uh-huh," he grunted, climbing into the driver's seat as Beth went around and returned to the passenger's seat. "Ain't so easy as it sounds, though."
He started up the truck and Beth looked over at him, her mouth set in a hard line of determination.
"Ya know, I've been makin' some pretty big decisions of my own lately. And I'm not about to sit by an' let this farm fall to the wayside. I'll do whatever it takes. When the time comes," she said. Then she quickly added, "Yer not alone in this, Shawn. You never have been."
Shawn gazed over at her with his hands on the steering wheel, a thoughtful look on his face. Though he was still frowning. "Sure as hell feels like I am."
Beth sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Maggie moved to Atlanta for this farm. For us. It's not like she abandoned us."
"Till she met Glenn," Shawn quipped. "She might'a moved there for us, but she stayed there fer him."
"Okay, but that doesn't mean she's moving on. She won't let anythin' happen to this place once Daddy's… gone. I know she won't."
"As long as yer here, maybe. But the second you get yerself a boyfriend and someplace to go, that'll be it for me. I'll be left tryin' to figure out how to keep this whole damn farm afloat."
"It's been a week, Shawn. I'm not runnin' off to get married. Gimme a friggin' break here."
"Like you've given me? A week turns into a month turns into a year—next thing ya know, yer movin' in with the guy and forgettin' all about us."
"That's not even close to the truth," Beth insisted. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what you or Maggie think—or Dad, for that matter—because I know where I really belong. And it's right here. Daryl, or whoever else, has nothing to do with it."
Shawn shook his head, but he was clearly exhausted with arguing for the time being. He shifted gears and began driving away, keeping his eyes straight ahead while they rumbled over dying grass.
She was beginning to wish, now more than ever, that she could just tell him the truth. Maybe if she explained that she was trying to stop a murderer from killing Daryl and sending his soul to Hell, Shawn would be a little more understanding.
Then again, who was to say he would be okay with his baby sister running around with a Dixon and a cop, putting themselves in danger and following the advice of a dead man while hunting down someone who definitely wanted to kill them? Knowing the truth might only make Shawn all that much more adamant about intervening. Even if it was some kind of Divine Destiny. He wouldn't care. All he cared about was the farm and keeping his family safe. Finding out about Beth's Gift and the risky situations she was putting herself in would undoubtedly kick his overprotective behavior into full-gear.
She still couldn't decide whether Florence had been advising her against telling her family the truth, or if she'd been suggesting the exact opposite. Maybe it was one of those things where she would have to be patient and wait for just the right time to reveal that she was, indeed, a real-life Witch.
But damn, this giant white lie was getting pretty exhausting to continuously carry on.
A few moments of tense silence passed before Shawn spoke, though he kept his eyes forward. "You want me to believe you? Start pullin' yer weight around here. I gotta go check on the crops in the west field—I'mma drop ya off back at the house. Jus' do yer usual damn chores so I ain't gotta worry about all that shit on top'a takin' care of Otis's shit. I got enough to do today without pickin' up yer slack."
Beth crossed her arms over her chest and frowned deeply, but she didn't try to argue.
"Fine."
And just when she was starting to think she might be getting the hang of things…
to be continued…
