Chapter 4

7 Months Before

Firsts and Interruptions

When their mamma died Merle was 17. He was still so scrawny and dirty and downright poor looking that judges and policemen sometimes took pity on him. The judge who he had to go before the morning of the fire for swipin' a bottle of Wild Turkey heard the story from the public defender and sent the boy home on a bus with a slap on the wrist and a fair warning to clean up his act.

Merle was still a kid, caught up in the hustle and bustle of easy cash because for someone who'd never had a lick of it, being handed a hundred-dollar bill just for dropping off a couple packages wasn't something he could just pass up.

He was just a kid when he came home and tried to make some kind of sense of the mess their mamma left behind. Trying to go toe to toe with the old man while wrangling a six-year-old who had decided to make a mute of himself after screaming every tear he had out of him.

Merle was a kid but back then, to Daryl, he'd been like that character Atlas who carried the whole world around on his back.

And Merle tried, Daryl knows he did. If Merle hadn't tried even just once, Daryl wouldn't even know about this spot down on the water.

Merle took him here when he was six and hadn't let a syllable roll off his tongue since he woke up in the hospital after heaving himself to exhaustion. When his daddy kept shaking him and slapping him in the ear and asking if he was a god damn retard or something now.

They sat down on the log by the waters edge together and Merle baited two hooks and didn't even say anything about him having to learn to do it himself. They just fished and Merle smoked and talked even if Daryl didn't say a thing back.

"Recon I'm pissed at er'. Oughta been smarter than to fall asleep like that. Just an accident, s'all it was. She wouldn't have left ya behind on purpose. Me maybe, but not you. But ya ain't gotta talk, don't matter none. I know ya can. Don't know why that asshole thinks anybody got anything to say to him anyway."

Merle started slinging dope to keep Daryl fed and bills paid and they fished at their spot and for a year after their mamma died, Merle carried the world.

Eventually he spoke again. Not to Merle but to the kid at the desk next to him named Glenn who wouldn't ever shut up.

Eventually, the world got too heavy and Merle dropped it. Eventually the judges stopped looking at him like a misguided youth and more like a menace to society. Their daddy's hits got harder and Merle left and each time he came back his words got harder too.

But for a while his brother tried, which is why Daryl has this place to bring Beth. So that's something.

Beth doesn't have any problem baiting her own hook even if she does look down at the earth worm wriggling in her palm with a bit of regret.

"Sorry fella," she says just barely over a whisper but she smiles when he snorts out a laugh.

"Didn't know worms had ears," he teases and she gives him a mock look of contempt as she slides her hook through the thing's center.

"We're all God's creatures Daryl," she reminds and there's a sing song in her voice that tells him she's just teasing right back.

She's not really, Beth's the kind of girl who genuinely thinks that every single life has meaning from the cows on her farm to the worm at the end of her line.

She's the kind of girl who has thought a guy like him has been worth spending most of her afternoons with for the last three months.

This is their first date, at least he thinks so. It's the first time he specifically asked her to do something that wasn't just something else they'd end up getting into after he picked her up from work, which he's been doing every night he can since that first time. Aaron and Theo said it was time that he actually goes out of his way to plan something for them to do together. Glenn said that Maggie said that he'd better be careful with her baby sister but she didn't seem out right upset about the whole thing.

He was still cautious, still staring at the ceiling every night after he dropped her off and gnawing at his fingernails.

She seemed to like riding around the back roads of town in his truck and she usually came up with some reason for him not to take her home just yet and when he brought her down to the inlet with the guys she fit right in and laughed at their jokes and she called Theo 'Tdog' even though they told her nobody called him that but himself.

Still, he still didn't think she'd say yes. So yesterday when he'd managed to mutter out the request as she was finishing the ice cream cone she'd just had to have before she could even think about going home from work he was prepared to be let down.

He was prepared for the sorry fella and not the every-single-tooth smile and the I love fishin', how did you know?

They sit on the same old log he's been sitting on since long after his brother stopped coming down here with him. Beth's wearing shorts and they ain't daisy dukes by no means but it's the first time he's seen her bare legs and he feels 14 instead of 21 because he's got work to keep his eyes off them. Her hairs done up in some kind of braid like always, something that looks like it takes hours to do but he's sure it doesn't really because Beth ain't that type of girl. Her t-shirt is tie dye and he'd put money on the fact that she made it herself and there's not a lick of makeup on her face, just a spattering of sun freckles that have been darkening as the summer drags on.

"You know," she nudges him in the ribs but keeps her eyes on the water before them and her hands busy on her rod, "I been wonderin' when you were gonna ask me on a date."

"Who said this was a date girl?" he knows she knows he's joking, they've figured that rhythm out by now, "man's gotta eat and you said you were such a great fisherman."

"Oh," she feigns offense, "in that case, I'll just go free all these worms and you can starve Daryl Dixon."

His lips tug upwards on their own accord. There's no reason but he really likes it when she says his full name like that. Cause even when she's joking, Beth says his name like it means something.

"Nah," he grunts, "figured s' bout time. Been hanging your feet out my truck window for a couple months now, might as well have a first date."

That's Beth's favorite thing, kicking off her boots and lounging across the bench seat in his truck and singing while he burns up gas just for the sake of gettin' to listen to her.

"Oh Daryl," she shakes her head and casts her reel like it's the most natural thing in the world for her, "this is not our first date. This is just the first one that was your idea."

"That right?"

She nods and works her line in slightly.

"That's right. Out first date was the first Sunday you picked me up from work and we went and got Icee's afterwards and drank them on the tailgate of your truck."

Of course he remembers. They talked in the Ick parking lot until there were lightning bugs for Beth to catch. Mostly Beth had talked but he'd told her things too, some of the things he'd been swallowing down since he was a little kid biting his own tongue.

About his daddy and the end of the belt, about his mamma and his uncle Will with that needle stuck up in his arm.

And Beth told him, fiddling with her straw and looking up and down and anywhere but at him, about how the day her mamma got diagnosed was like a sinkhole opening and sucking her whole family in. How she wondered if her daddy and Maggie even remembered she was still there with them somedays.

"Guess that means we been datin' a few months then," he concludes and she just replies with a happy little noise.

"Guess it does."

For a few minutes it's quiet, just the background hum of birds and insects over top one another and he knows she wants to say something else but she's still mulling it over.

And then he hears the snap of a branch under a boot and Beth doesn't even notice it but he's spent a quarter of his life in these woods. She jumps a little when he forces his rod into her hands so she's balancing both and jumps up on his heels to face the tree line. He's got a buck knife on his belt like he usually does when he comes out here so he rests his fingers on the handle and places his body in front of hers.

She's sputtering out his name in confusion when some branches move off to the right and the figure comes strolling out into the clearing.

"Jesus," Merle groans, "shoulda known to look you for ya down here first."

His brother's wearing black denim jeans and a wife beater that's seen better days under his leather cut. His hairs buzzed short and there's an angry splotch of purple bruising swallowing his right eye.

Daryl's tongue feels heavy and kind of like when he was a kid because he feels Merle's eyes drift around him, just to the right where Beth's managed to get her own rod reeled in and is now working on Daryl's while also pulling herself to her feet and he cringes when Merle whistles, long and low and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Well damn brother," Merle has a habit of dragging out the last letter of every word, to make some kind of point, "didn't know you were using our spot as a pussy point. Bout time you got some."

A heat ignites at the back of his neck but creeps down his arms as the muscles clench and settles in his fists. He half turns to Beth, can't look her in the eye.

"Stay here."

She doesn't say anything, opens her mouth for a second but snaps it shut and he knows she's never seen him like this.

Beth's never seen him angry, never seen what the Dixon inside of him can be. And nobody brings it out in him like his brother. He stalks across the clearing until their boot toes bump, almost nose to nose and the hostility knocks Merle a little off balance.

"What crawled up your ass?" his brother hisses and shoves him out of his personal space with a hand on his chest, "been wandering around this shit hole town all morning lookin' for ya and that's the greeting I get?"

"Don't talk about her like that."

Merle clicks his tongue and rocks back on his heels.

"Well look at you, has my baby brother finally gone and found himself an old lady? Bout time, was starting to wonder considering how much time you spend with that faggot."

The word stings. Aaron's had his back since the day they met in 6th grade.

"What do you want Merle?"

"Governor got a big run coming up," his brother raises one hand and rubs his thumb against the tips of his fingers to signify he's going to be making a significant amount of money, "need some bodies for the trip. Got a pretty penny with your name on it."

Daryl grimaces at the mention of the Governor, the eye-patched leader of Merle's outfit who looks like a fucking cartoon character yet his brother heels to like a dog.

"You already know I ain't interested."

Merle never tried to recruit him before the Governor. His brother might have called him a pussy and a chump for working his ass off for a legal wage but he'd never actually asked Daryl to join him. He'd always thought maybe Merle wanted better for him, even if he never said it. Thought maybe his brother was still trying.

But in the last year Merle's changed his tune, ever since he started taking orders from his new boss and ever since he started using more and more of his own product. Daryl can see it now, the way his pupils are starting to swallow his eyes.

"Man up," Merle hisses, "you gonna live off the couch change Dale throws you every Friday for the rest'a your life? I tell you ya ain't got no business havin' a girl if you don't got no money."

Merle always knows where to hit. He knows Beth ought to be going on dates with guys who can take her somewhere other than fishing or for dollar icee's. Guys who should be able to help her so she doesn't have to work so hard at the store and then at the farm just to keep everything running. Guys who could make it possible for her to be heading off to college in the fall instead of putting it on hold like she has.

But she says his name like it's worth saying and the second he takes a penny from the places his brother does, that's over.

"I can't man."

Merle's lips come together in a tight line and his eyebrows meet at an angry peak and he leans in this time, talks quieter.

"I need you brother. Look I missed up the last deal and shit went south. This is my chance to make amends or I'm in deep shit. They'll kill me if I don't ace this one. I mean it, these psychos are gonna have my head."

This person before him used to hold the universe on his back.

"You're gonna have to get someone else."

He can hear a shift on the gravel behind him and knows Beth's been working her way closer but he holds up a hand, faces his palm out towards her and the footsteps cease.

"You're really gonna leave me out high and dry for some bitch huh?" his brother spits, "think you're somethin' special cause you got a bitch suckin' your dick all the sudden?"

His fist connects with his brother's jaw so sharp and sudden he thinks for sure he's broken it. Merle's back hits the ground and Beth gasps but it doesn't stop him from stepping over his brother's body and hauling him up by the collar of his shirt.

"I told you not to talk about her like that."

Merle's a tough son of a bitch but he looks shook as he rolls out of Daryl's grasp and struggles to his feet.

"You're gonna regret this," he manages with a swollen drag to his words, "I took care of you, I was the only one who ever took care of you. You remember that after she decides she's done slummin' it. You're still a Dixon, don't go lettin' yourself forget that."

They face each other for a few long moments before Merle turns to leave the way he came, still mumbling under his breath.

There's still anger coursing through him ready to detonate and he stays facing away from Beth. He is still a Dixon like his brother said.

He'd never hurt her, he'd cut his own hand off before he did that. But he's liable to do something dumb like push her away, like let his brother get in his head.

She's a tiny thing but the sudden force of her weight against his back knocks the wind out of him. Her arms wrap around his waist, her hands knotted together and anchoring her against him and he can feel her chin in the center of his back.

"Daryl…."

"I'm sorry."

"That ain't you," her words drift over his shoulder, "You're not Merle. And he's wrong, he's not the only person who ever cared about you."

Her words tame something inside him. He tries to be gentle when he unlocks her arms from around him and turns to rest his hands on her dainty shoulders.

"Some hell of a date huh?"

A little smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"Good thing it's not our first."

She's not looking at him any different after watching him pummel his brother, after watching him stand over him knowing good and well he could have kept hurting him if he wanted. Beth's not looking at him like some wild thing let lose, she's still looking at him like it's the most natural thing in the world for a girl like her to smiling at a guy like him.

And the thing is he's never even kissed the girl.

Three months of car rides and Icees and telling her things he never spoke out loud before and it's not like he hasn't wanted to.

He's more than wanted to but he's glad he never did because this feels right. Doesn't matter what just happened, doesn't matter about their abandoned fishing poles or the slight throb he can still feel across his right knuckles.

Cause Beth Green's arms slide around his neck and she stands up on the tip toes of her battered converse sneakers and she presses her lips against his.

And he feels like he could carry the whole world on his back.