AN: Hi everyone! Things are, as always now, still nuts over here. I wanted to get you out a chapter here though to keep us moving right along.
This chapter is a Merle/Daryl chapter, but it was one that had to happen. It's pretty long, but a lot needed to go into it!
I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think!
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Merle got out of T-Dog's car and waved at the man, thanking him for the ride. He rubbed his hands together, aching from the cold and from having stood outside too long at the job site shooting the shit with several of the men he worked with far too long after they'd called it quits for the day.
Merle made his way up Daryl's driveway, able to look in the window and see that the kitchen was hopping with activity. That's one thing Merle Dixon could say about his baby brother. His house was never empty and never boring. Merle couldn't say the same about his own quiet apartment across town…the one that right now was waiting on him, and him alone.
Merle lit a cigarette and lingered outside a bit. Beyond the kitchen window, no one was even aware that Merle was out there. They'd apparently missed T-Dog's quick stop at the road to let him out. He didn't know what they were doing, but he could see Carol, Andrea, and Axel clearly through the window and they all looked happy about something. He could imagine that Daryl was somewhere just out of view, enjoying his evening.
Merle was trying to be a lot of things these days. He was trying to change his life…to turn it around. He'd thought, his entire life, that he was supposed to take care of Daryl. He'd thought that he was supposed to teach his brother how to be a man and how to live his life right…like a Dixon.
Merle chuckled to himself, his breath fogging in the cold December air. Who in their right fucking mind would want to be a Dixon if they were given the choice? The stupid set of fucking rules by which they lived their lives certainly hadn't gotten anyone anywhere up to now.
But things, for Merle, were changing. He was starting to realize that maybe it wasn't him that was going to teach Daryl a damn thing. As far as Dixons went, his brother was already a grand failure. He had a job…and though it might not be the best job anyone ever had, it was steady. He was married to a woman that he seemed to love…a foreign concept for a Dixon. Furthermore he was married to the only damn woman that Merle had ever really seen his brother pay any attention to, that one sorry night with Mary Ann Walsh excluded since the pitifulness of the whole damn situation left Merle and Andrea both shaking their heads when they'd overheard it. And now his baby brother had a baby on the way, and he was so damn excited about the kid he almost shook like a Chihuahua when his ass talked about it.
Maybe it was Daryl that was teaching Merle a few things, though he wouldn't have wanted to admit it to the little shit for fear that he'd never live that down from Daryl.
But Merle didn't know what the hell to do with any of it. He felt like it was something he couldn't even wrap his mind around. It was something he thought he might want…something he thought he might like. Hell he was jealous as hell over everything that Daryl had sometimes…but it was something that he didn't know how to have or how to let himself have.
Merle had never been under the impression that he wasn't an asshole. God knows he'd heard it enough from every fucking person he'd ever met and he knew it was true. He was comfortable being an asshole. It was how the hell he'd made it this damn long without turning into some kind of pansy ass pussy. If you're an asshole then people tend to leave you the hell alone, and as long as the fuckers keep their distance they never get a foot up to cause you any damn problems.
Except for now there was the little problem that whether he like it or not, Merle had somehow found himself surrounded by more people in his life than he ever wanted to be around. He'd crashed down into this worthless little shit town with Daryl and his life had gotten turned all the fucking way upside down. And he wasn't even sure what the hell was going on, or what the hell to do about it.
But he knew that Daryl swore by this talking shit, and if that's what the hell he needed to do to figure it out…then he'd give it one damn try, but just one.
Merle snubbed his cigarette out and carried the butt over to the bucket where Daryl flicked his, dropping it in so Carol wouldn't lay a golden egg over the fact that he'd flicked a butt in her yard. He grabbed the door to the house and let himself inside, immediately wrapped in the warmth of the house and the sound of the bubbly voices.
Daryl was leaning against the bar on the far side of the kitchen, out of the view of the window, while Axel, Andrea, and Carol were involved in, apparently, decorating cookies that made the whole house smell sweet and warm.
Merle leaned down to pet the dog that was trying to scramble up his legs, though the fact that he was gaining weight made it harder for him than it had once been when he had been smaller and more a puppy.
"What the fuck is goin' on here?" Merle asked.
"Decorating Christmas cookies," Carol responded, not looking at him. "You want to decorate some?"
"Fuck no I don't wanna decorate no damn cookies," Merle spat.
If he'd been entirely honest, he really wouldn't have minded decorating the cookies. He couldn't remember ever having done anything like that in his life, though, and it didn't seem like a very manly thing to do, though that didn't seem to be deterring Axel from standing between the two women putting big globby buttons on some of the little people they were making.
"Ya busy, Derlina?" Merle asked, directing his attention to his brother who was standing with his arms crossed almost like he was sulking, but he was probably just caught up in some elaborate daydream or another.
Ever since Daryl had been a fucking little kid he could caught up in some shit in his head like no one would believe. It had been easy to scare the shit out of the fucker if you could catch him really caught up. He'd get this damn glazed over look, his mouth would fall open slightly, and it would look like the next damn thing he'd be doing was drooling. That's how the hell you knew that whatever was going on in that head of his had him all wrapped up…and then you could startle the hell out of him if you wanted to because he wouldn't have had a damn clue it was about to happen if a bear was about to eat him.
Daryl wasn't in that kind of state right now, though, but Merle suspected it wasn't too far off. Daryl's head snapped up at his question.
"Dunno," Daryl responded. "Am I busy?" He asked the cookie experts of the kitchen.
Carol turned to face Daryl, sucking icing off her thumb. She shrugged a little.
"Not if you don't want to be," she said.
Daryl looked at Merle then and nodded.
"What'cha need?" Daryl asked.
"Need'ja ta run me by place," Merle responded, glancing at those preoccupied by the cookies and hoping they weren't trying to dissect every damn work that came out of his mouth. "Need ya opinion on somethin'…" Merle said, not wanting to admit to his brother in the company of others that he was going to give this talking shit a try to see if might help him out with all the shit going on in his life that even he couldn't begin to understand.
Daryl nodded slightly and stood up from his leaning position, feeling his pockets and rattling them around in search of his keys.
"That OK?" Daryl asked, walking behind Carol and putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned, smiling and leaned up to kiss him quickly. Merle didn't miss that Daryl blushed a little over the fact he was watching them. The damn boy always got embarrassed about that shit, and Merle figured it was his fault for having given him hell so damn much about when he was going to man up and start getting him a little sugar from a pretty damn girl once and for all.
"Fine, baby," Carol responded when the peck was through.
"Axel…ya stay here with 'em? Just in case?" Daryl asked.
Axel nodded, grunting a reply and turned back to the work that the women had him doing…work he seemed to be taking very seriously.
Merle didn't say anything else to anyone. He turned to head out the house, his brother on his heels, and walked to Daryl's truck for him to drive him across town.
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They hadn't spoken on the way over. Merle wasn't sure how the hell to get around to or get out what the hell he wanted to talk about and it couldn't have been more obvious that something was gnawing on Daryl's ass if he'd been able to see some kind of damn wild animal hanging off of him with a mouthful of flesh.
When they got into the apartment, Merle unlocked the door and let Daryl pass through first, switching on the light as he did so.
"What'cha gotta show me?" Daryl asked.
"Ain't got a damn thing ta show ya," Merle responded. He pointed toward the table that he hardly ever used. "Sit the fuck down. Here ta give this talkin' shit'cha always doin' a go."
Daryl rolled his eyes at him.
"I'm serious, Daryl," Merle said. "Sit'cha ass down."
Daryl grumbled something and went to sit at the table, leaning back against the wall. Merle walked to the fridge and opened it, holding out a beer to his brother. Daryl shook his head but Merle didn't pay him any mind. He took out another beer for himself and took both the beverages to the table, sitting down across from Daryl. He opened them and sat one in front of his brother.
"Gotta drive," Daryl protested, his voice low. Merle was positive now that his brother was in some kind of funk, but he didn't have a clue what the hell it could be about since the little bastard just came back the day before from his damn honeymoon or whatever.
"It's a fuckin' beer," Merle responded. "Besides…ya lil' missy'll come an' get'cha if ya decide ta get'cha ass plowed, an' ya know it."
Daryl sighed and took the beer, sucking down half of it in one swallow. Merle decided it was pretty likely that the cookie crew would come to haul his brother home.
"What's eatin' ya panties, Daryl?" Merle asked. "Ya ass just got home from ya lil' vacation…"
"Like ya give a shit," Daryl responded, somewhat sourly.
Merle took a swig of his own beer, resting his elbows on the table. He tried to be as serious as he possibly could…as serious as he'd ever been, assuming it might help to aid things along.
"I do give a shit, Daryl," Merle said. "What the fuck is eatin' ya, boy?"
Daryl bit at his thumb before taking another swig of beer and Merle scooted around in his chair, reaching the fridge and pulling the door open to pluck another two beers out, glad he'd thought to stock up.
Daryl didn't say anything for a moment. He was picking at the label on the bottle with his pinkie nail and looking at Merle like he was expecting him to reach out and slap him or some shit.
"Fuckin' talk, Daryl!" Merle said. "Somethin' happen on ya fuckin' trip? I'm tryin' ta have one a' them damn heart ta hearts or whatever the fuck it is!"
Daryl narrowed his eyes at him.
"Maybe I don't feel like ya bustin' my balls an' callin' me a pussy an' shit," Daryl said. "Maybe I don't feel like talkin' ta ya tonight."
Merle sighed and pressed a finger to his temple where he'd had a nagging headache pretty much since the time he'd woken up.
"I asked ya here so I could be the fuckin' pussy," Merle growled. "Reckon I ain't gon' bust ya balls if'n ya don't bust mine."
Daryl looked at him like he was confused.
"Don't know what the fuck I'm doin' here, Daryl," Merle said. "Why don't'cha quit bein' a lil' bitch about it an' tell me what the fuck is chewin' on ya? Might make it easier for me ta say what the fuck I got on my mind."
Daryl shifted in his chair, eyeing Merle in an odd sort of way and chewing on his bottom lip.
"While we was in the mountains," Daryl started, "Carol fell…busted her ass, right in the damn middle a' the road."
Merle shrugged a little, not fully understanding.
"So ya got'cha panties twisted 'cause Carol busted her ass?" Merle asked.
Daryl shook his head a little, finishing the beer and taking a second one before responding.
"I'm makin' her go an' see the doctor," Daryl said. "Got an appointment tomorrow."
Merle shrugged again.
"Merle…coulda killed the fuckin' kid!" Daryl spat. "Just like that…kid might not be alright. Got me ta thinkin'."
Merle wasn't sure but he felt like he was supposed to say something. Wasn't that part of talking? He was supposed to say things back to Daryl and solve Daryl's problem? Except right now he didn't have a clue what the hell to say.
"She looked just as damn fat tonight as she did when y'all left on ya trip," Merle said. "Don't reckon the kid's gone nowhere."
Daryl shook his head, scoffing a little.
"Got me ta thinkin' that maybe I ain't fit ta do this," Daryl said. "Scares the shit outta me that they gon' say the kid ain't OK…that I can't even take care a' Carol…can't take care a' the kid neither. Makin' me think I was fuckin' foolin' myself thinkin' this shit was gonna work out like it outta. Been fightin' the damn feelin' all day that I'd do better ta just turn tail an' run…get the hell out 'fore Carol realizes that I can't take care a' her ass neither."
And slowly it all started to sink into Merle. Merle sighed and shook his head, sucking down a good bit of his beer and hoping that it made him feel more comfortable with all the shit he was thinking.
"Ain't gon' let'cha do that, lil' brothah," Merle responded, shaking his head. He chuckled a little to himself. "Reckon it's prob'ly my damn fault much as anyone else's that'cha think ya should run like that…that'cha ain't never learned ta keep ya fuckin' feet flat on the ground for shit…but I ain't lettin' ya run from this shit."
Daryl looked at him, his face some kind of cross between the face of someone who has been seriously betrayed and the face of someone who wanted to rearrange Merle's teeth. Merle sucked his teeth.
"I'm proud of ya, Daryl," Merle said. "I said it before an' I meant it. Ya found ya a lil' woman that'cha wanted ta make ya damn wife…an' ya did. Put'cha a kid in her belly, even. Got'cha fuckin' act together, Daryl…weren't actin' like no fuckin' Dixon."
Daryl chuckled but it wasn't a sincere chuckle.
"Figured ya would say that ain't bein' a man," Daryl said.
Merle nodded his head slightly.
"Used ta think it weren't bein' no man," Merle said. "But I seen ya, Daryl. Hell…reckon ya bein' more a' fuckin' man than half the men I know…" Merle let his voice trail off with his thoughts before adding gruffly, "more a man than I been."
Daryl didn't respond, but Merle saw something in his brother's face change.
"Hell, Daryl," Merle said, "Carol was bakin' cookies an' shit. Don't look like no woman that just got done killin' her kid nor nothin' ta me."
"Wouldn't be that she killed it," Daryl said defensively. He picked at the table. "Damn it, Merle…she fell one time an' lost a kid."
Merle sat back in his chair, sucking down the rest of his beer to give him time to process the entire thing. Even if he'd been in the frame of mind to want to give his brother hell, this wouldn't be something he'd give him hell about. It was obvious the boy was dealing with a whole mess of things. He wasn't even going to ask for more details. He didn't need to know them. He was smart enough to figure it probably had something to do with that asshole Ed.
"Ya kid's gone be fine," Merle said, not knowing if there was an ounce of truth behind his words, but hoping for once he was telling the truth. "An' if it ain't…hell, Daryl…reckon ya could have another…but runnin' 'cause ya scared ain't the damn answer. An' I know I told ya…" Merle broke off, drinking the top out the second beer he got for himself and coming to terms with how much he'd failed his brother in his life. How much he was really starting to realize he'd fucked up in his own head about how shit worked. "I know that I told ya ta run from shit ya whole damn life…but I was wrong."
Merle didn't even pretend not to notice Daryl looking at him. He chuckled to himself a little. He'd probably never said those words before, even though he'd thought them.
Merle shook his head.
"Ya love that woman, Daryl. Don't'cha let whatever the fuck I ever told ya…or anyone else for that matter…fuck that shit up. If somethin's wrong then I'm real damn sorry for it, but'cha deal with that shit with ya woman. That's how the fuck ya be a man," Merle said.
Daryl's eyes dropped and he drank back more of the beer. Merle swiveled around and fished more out of the fridge, putting them on the table between them.
"Don't wanna lose neither one of 'em," Daryl said after a minute.
Merle nodded at him again.
"Then hold the fuck on," Merle said with a sigh. "Don't fuck up what'cha got."
Silence fell over them both for a moment. Merle didn't want to talk to Daryl about his shit anymore. They were on different planes…in different worlds, and Merle knew that now.
"What'd ya wanna talk about?" Daryl asked finally, still looking somewhat deflated.
"Don't matter," Merle said.
"Ya wanted ta talk," Daryl said. "Reckon ya had somethin' ta say. What the hell is it?"
Merle chuckled a little.
"Ain't nothin' like ya shit, Daryl," Merle said. "Don't hardly matter."
"Fuck is it?" Daryl asked. "Spit that shit out!"
Merle drained the beer and took another. He leaned up, resting his elbow on the table.
"Ya ain't fucked with me 'bout my shit," Daryl said. "I ain't gon' fuck with you. Reckon whatever the hell's chewin' on ya is just as damn serious to you as what's chewin' on me is ta me."
Merle sighed. He'd never in his life had some kind of heart to heart with anyone. Now here he was, sitting across from his brother. He'd listened to Daryl talk about what the hell was on his mind, but it was a whole different ballgame when he was the one trying to screw up the courage to talk about…what? What was he even trying to talk about? His fucking feelings?
Merle cleared his throat. It was now or never and he wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified to even let any of the things he was thinking escape from his mouth.
"While ya was gone I slept with Andrea…" Merle said.
Daryl looked at him, wrinkling his brow.
"So?" He asked.
Merle chuckled a little in response.
"Ya fucked Andrea a couple times that I know of," Daryl said.
Merle shook his head.
"Weren't the same," Merle said.
Daryl cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Ya know I don't particularly wanna talk about'cha bangin' Andrea, right?" Daryl said.
Merle sat back.
"Fuck ya, Derlina. Think I don't know what'cha was doin' on ya damn honeymoon? Think I don't know how ya girl got ta lookin' like she been chowin' down on fuckin' canteloupes? I thought'cha was all about this fuckin' talkin' shit…but'cha don't wanna do it if it ain't ya shit we talkin' 'bout!" Merle responded.
Daryl frowned and then sighed.
"Fuck it…" Daryl said. "OK, so ya fucked her an' it was different. What the hell else ya gotta say?"
Merle sucked his teeth, not sure how to go on from there or even if he still wanted to go on.
"Was the first damn time I ain't wanna leave in the mornin'," Merle said.
Daryl looked at him and Merle thought he knew what the look meant.
The truth was that it really had been the first time that Merle had ever woken up with a woman and didn't want to leave and it scared him shitless when he admitted it to himself. When Andrea had asked him…requested…that he paint some damn experience for her…when she'd asked him to be slow and gentle, he'd almost shit his pants.
Merle Dixon didn't do slow and gentle. It wasn't something he'd ever done, really. He wasn't into that shit. He wanted to fuck and that was it. He'd compromise on positions if you liked one thing more than something else…hell he could care less how you wanted to be fucked…as long as you understood that's all the hell there was to it.
But as soon as he'd started the whole thing with Andrea it had been different and he couldn't even say why. Andrea was different.
And what scared him the most when it was all said and done was that he had enjoyed it. Better than any of the times they'd fucked and it had damn near been wrestling match with a grizzly bear, he'd enjoyed it. He'd taken his time like he'd never done before. He'd traced nearly every damn inch of her body with his mouth, and he'd like the taste it had left on his tongue.
But when the morning had come, he hadn't known what the hell to do about it. He'd woken up and watched her, dressing quietly, her hair a mess and she'd looked over and smiled at him…told him she'd make breakfast. And he'd pretended it had been a fuck, like every other fuck. He'd been too damn chicken shit to say it had been different for him, and she hadn't said anything.
"Ya love her," Daryl said, his voice quiet. "Hell, Merle…we knowed ya loved her. Reckon you an' Andrea was the only two didn't know it."
As a defense mechanism, Merle forced himself to chuckle. He could feel his heart pounding though, just at the thought. It had always terrified him to think of falling in love. That meant falling out of control, and so far the only damn thing he'd ever had any control over was the fact that he didn't love the women he fucked.
Merle shook his head.
"Don't'cha fuckin' shake ya head at me," Daryl said. "Ya tell me not ta listen ta all the shit'cha told me my whole damn life. Now I'm gonna tell ya ta stop listenin' ta ya own damn self. Ya fuckin' love Andrea. Go ahead an' face the fuckin' facts. Ya ain't wanna leave in the mornin' 'cause ya love her an' ya wanna wake up beside her ass another damn mornin'…hell, I know what the hell that feels like. An' I don't know if that shit changes or not, but I can tell ya that if it don't change then ya gonna wake up ever single fuckin' mornin' feelin' like it ain't enough. Ya gonna wake up feelin' fuckin' terrified that'cha ain't never gonna get ta do that shit again…it's the worst damn feelin' ever…an' it's the best damn feelin'."
Merle swallowed, looking at his brother. He didn't know what to say and he didn't know what to do. He hated to admit that he was already terrified. He was terrified to think that he might have done it. He might have gone against his better judgment and let himself fall…but he didn't think he could say it.
"Tell her, Merle," Daryl said. Daryl shook his head at him slightly and worked on another beer that Merle hadn't noticed he'd moved to. "If ya don't tell her…she ain't gon' wait forever. If ya do tell her…hell…ya might just find yaself a woman ya wanna claim as ya own. Who the fuck knows? I told ya before, though, ya gotta piss or get off the damn pot 'cause right now ya just jerkin' her around."
Merle frowned.
He felt guilty because he knew that his brother was right. He was jerking her around, but he didn't want to do that anymore. He couldn't help but feel, though, like he'd be a first class royal fuck up if he tried this shit. He didn't think he could even do half as good as Daryl did at the whole relationship thing. Daryl had always been the sweet one.
Merle cleared his throat, searching for words.
"An' if I fuck it up?" Merle asked, raising his eyebrows at his brother, thankful that Daryl wasn't giving him the hell that he'd given Daryl in his life.
Daryl shrugged.
"Then ya fuck it up," Daryl said. "Same as the rest of us, I reckon. I gotta tell ya like ya told me. Stop runnin'. Maybe ya won't fuck it up… ya know? Maybe Andrea won't let'cha fuck it up if ya give her the chance."
Merle nodded. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. He knew, though, that he had reached a crossroads in his life that he'd never been to before and he was going to have to make a decision. He could go in one direction and continue being the same sorry asshole he'd always been. He could just keep going like he'd always done and never look back. If he took that direction, though, he was going to lose Andrea forever. She was going to go off, probably with that fucker Axel, and she was going to do whatever the hell it was she needed to do with her life. If he took the other direction, though, he was going to have to be a different man entirely. He was going to have to let go of everything he'd held onto for so damn long. If he did take that direction, though, and if somehow he got it right…he had a chance to stop being jealous over everything that Daryl had…he had a chance to have his own life…It would be a life he'd never imagined having, though, and one that he didn't know if he could handle.
Daryl sat in silence, finishing the beer in his hand. He plucked another off the table and Merle got up, getting a couple more out of the fridge, sitting them in the middle of the table, and picking up the phone.
"I'll call ya wife," Merle said. "We'll work on these 'til she gets here."
Daryl nodded at him. Merle swallowed again, listening to the distant buzz of the dial tone coming from the receiver in his hand.
"Don't say no shit 'bout this, lil' brothah…" Merle said.
Daryl shook his head slightly.
"'Bout what?" Daryl asked.
Merle nodded at Daryl and dialed the now familiar numbers to interrupt the bakers and let them know that someone needed to swing by and make sure that Daryl made it home alright.