AN: Here you go, another chapter. This one is not a Caryl chapter. It's sort of a Merle/Andrea chapter…
I hope you enjoy the chapter. (OK…so maybe this is one that I'm going to say I hope it's decently written?) Let me know what you think!
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"I'm dying," Andrea said, leaning her elbows on the bar. Merle smirked at her, not even pretending that he wasn't enjoying the eye full of cleavage. Andrea followed his eyes and sighed.
"So? What the fuck's the problem…it's a damn doll," Merle commented, balancing his cigarette between his fingers and taking a shot of whiskey.
Andrea sighed.
"Yeah…but it's the loudest doll in the world and it never shuts up," Andrea said. "Never…ever. It started crying when we got home last night and it cried all night in like thirty minute intervals. It's the worst thing ever invented."
Merle took the last drag off his cigarette and stubbed the butt out in the ashtray with more care than it really required.
"Hell…gimme the thing an' a screwdriver…I can make it shut up," Merle said, chuckling a little to himself.
Andrea rolled her eyes.
"You don't understand…they're serious about this thing. The house is like grand central station or something. Carol's dying all night from the flu and Daryl's running around the house with the doll. I'm going to go crazy if I don't sleep," Andrea growled.
Merle chuckled again.
"Done told ya, darlin'…I know where ya can sleep," Merle said.
He'd been trying to talk Andrea into coming back to his apartment all evening. That was really the only reason he was in the bar tonight. He was drinking, sure, because it was the only thing to do at Loretta's if he didn't want to hang on the poker machines with the drunks that usually played them like Pacman or if he wasn't interested in getting involved in a pool game bound to go bad with the other gamblers who got their thrill elsewhere.
Mostly, though, he was here to try to talk Andrea into packing up whatever the hell she had and bringing it back over to the apartment. So far, though, she was still insisting that they needed time…she needed time.
Merle knew he was still on trial. He didn't know exactly how damn long the trial would last, but he wasn't done with it yet.
"Got two tables need clearin'," Loretta announced in her scratchy voice as she neared the bar.
Andrea made a face at Merle and straightened up. He watched her grab one of the trays from the corner of the bar and start around. He looked over his shoulder at her while she worked to load up the mess the recently departed drunks had left and then he glanced at Loretta who was sorting through some folding money before dropping it into the jars under the bar.
"Good turn out tonight?" Merle asked the big breasted woman. He liked Loretta. She was an older woman and she was probably quite the hellcat in her day…she still was for that matter…and she seemed to get along with just about anybody. Merle could take one look at her clientele, though, and figure that it probably went a long way in training her to put up with all kinds of assholes.
Loretta grunted something of a reply and reached under the bar, coming out with a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. She held it between her lips while she continued fumbling with things that were out of Merle's sight and then she leaned her elbow on the bar.
"Ain't no damn weekend, honey, but'cha take what'cha get, am I right?" She asked, chuckling.
Merle chuckled in response.
"Yeah…ya do," he said. He eyed Andrea as she walked past him with the loaded tray, headed toward the back of the bar where she'd do the dishes.
"When the hell you gonna make an honest woman outta Andrea?" Loretta asked.
Merle felt his heart stop just at the question. He couldn't say he had any intention at all of making an honest woman out of Andrea…he was trying hard enough to figure out what the hell to do as it was.
Merle already felt like a fish out of water. He was trying to do things that he had never done before. He was asking advice…asking damn advice…from people at work and trying to take notes on what they'd done in their relationships. He wasn't even sure what the hell he wanted either. He couldn't see himself living some kind of life like the one that Daryl seemed to be trying to build for himself…but he couldn't say that he wouldn't try it.
Loretta ribbed Merle for fun about Andrea a good bit. She kept bugging him that sooner or later he was going to clean up and make her some little woman of his. It had been part of Loretta's routine since the beginning…but now it was beginning to hit home, and it was making Merle a little nauseous. He was already farther out on the limb than he ever would have believed he'd venture and he was doing his best not to just turn tail and go running back to where he started…where it felt safe.
Merle never got a chance to respond to Loretta's ribbing, though, because he was immediately distracted.
He sat there for a moment, not believing his own eyes and not quite knowing what to do. Ed Peletier walked into the bar and took a seat at the far end of the bar, just around the bend of it. He didn't say a damn thing, just strolled in and sat his ass down, a toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth.
And Merle ran through all the scenarios that he had in his head of what he would do if he ever got his hands on Ed Peletier again.
Merle glanced over his shoulder and looked at the booth typically occupied by one or more of Sweet Junction's finest police offers. Both Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh were off duty and holding down the booth. Shane's back was to Merle, but he could see Rick and he could see that Rick was watching him.
Merle wasn't dumb and he'd tangled enough with the law to know that if he did a single damn thing to the smug looking man sitting down the bar from him, accepting the beer he'd ordered from Loretta who was cutting her eyes at the police officers as well, he would be the one that would go to jail.
According to the law…which didn't always make a whole lot of fucking sense in Merle's opinion, the man had paid for whatever crimes he might have committed and he was free to go…so long as he didn't try them again.
Merle cut his eyes toward Ed again.
Loretta, having served Ed, didn't glance in Merle's direction again. She went around the bar and started back out into what Merle was momentarily considering the general population of the bar. Andrea came from the back and Merle saw her stop dead in her tracks, the now empty tray hanging from her hands. She cut her eyes at Merle and then started around the bar.
Merle reached out and grabbed her by the upper part of the arm, pulling her in as though he intended to kiss her or whisper something in her ear besides what he was actually intending on whispering.
"Ain't'cha gotta fuckin' restrainin' order 'gainst his ass?" He growled into her ear.
Andrea smiled and rubbed her cheek against him like he'd said something sweet or romantic before bringing her mouth close to his ear.
"No…technically I was the one who attacked Ed…I never got anything," Andrea responded.
Merle let go of Andrea's arm and kept his eye on her as she joined Loretta cleaning tables and rubbing elbows. He cut his eyes back toward Ed and found the man looking at him. After a moment, Ed picked up his glass and moved closer to Merle and Merle worked to get control of the anger that bubbled inside him just remembering the night the man had attacked, at least in his opinion, Andrea and Carol.
He knew better than to start anything though. Two cops, even off duty, weren't good odds of him getting out of it by insisting that Ed instigated something. The only way he might get away with anything was if he did manage to get the man to be the first to start some shit…other than that he had to suck it up and play nice.
Ed shifted the toothpick in his mouth, watching Merle.
"Still messin' with Andrea?" Ed asked suddenly. It took Merle a moment to realize the man was addressing him. He frowned and glared in Ed's direction, reminding himself that he didn't want to go to jail tonight.
Merle didn't respond. Ed smiled at him…or smirked at him. Merle imagined how he'd feel if he had the right of way to simply punch the fucker in the face.
Ed chuckled a little and drained his beer just as Andrea was coming back around the bar.
"Another?" Ed asked.
Andrea frowned deeply and glanced in Merle's direction before taking the glass and filling it with beer. As she put it back in front of Ed, he put a hand out and caught her around the wrist and Merle shifted in his seat, deciding that if the man tried anything he would just have to go to jail again.
Ed didn't do anything, though, once Andrea jerked her wrist. He let go and chuckled, pulling out his wallet.
Andrea stood there a moment, her eyes dancing between Ed who was fishing through his wallet and Merle who was watching Ed for any signs of sudden movement.
"How much ya going for these days?" Ed asked, loudly enough so that anyone in the vicinity could have heard him if they were listening even with half an ear to what was taking place. Ed glanced up at Andrea, flicking a five dollar bill onto the bar in front of him.
Andrea stood rigidly, not reaching to take the money or move in any way. Ed chuckled again.
"If you're still as damn cheap as ya were the last time I bought a piece off ya…I suppose I'll be getting some change back," Ed said.
Merle growled in his throat. He looked at Andrea.
"Why don't'cha leave the lady alone?" He suggested. He cut his eyes in the direction of the friendly officers. Rick Grimes was watching him like a hawk…Shane Walsh seemed like he couldn't give two fucks about the whole thing.
Ed chuckled.
"Easy…" Ed said, holding his hands up, his wallet still in his hand. He moved to dig back in the wallet and dropped two dollar bills on top of the five that he'd already deposited on the bar. "She raised her prices…she raised her prices. Business is probably harder to come by…been a while since the dew was on the flower."
Merle shifted again, balling his fists up and glancing back at the police officers. He wondered exactly how much jail time he'd have to do this round if he jumped Ed's ass for being the worthless dick that he was. He had way too damn many assault charges against him as it was…and the courts wouldn't be as forgiving of him for kicking Ed's ass as they were for Ed beating on Carol, that's just the damn way the system worked…but Merle was thinking it might just be worth it to nail the son of a bitch.
"Merle…" Andrea said, catching his attention. Merle looked at her. Her eyes were wide, but she just slightly shook her head at him. Merle tried to unclench his fists.
Ed chuckled again.
"She didn't tell you she was a two dollar whore?" Ed asked.
Andrea busied herself, nervously fumbling with things around the bar area. Merle heard the unmistakable clatter of some bottles falling over and he knew that she'd knocked them over in her nervous movements to do anything but pay attention to Ed Peletier.
Merle sucked his teeth.
"Reckon ya might wanta step on outta here…" Merle said. "Don't reckon ya type is wanted 'round these parts."
Merle took another shot from the whiskey bottle that was in front of him.
Ed stood up, but he didn't move from his position by the bar. He cleared his throat loudly. Then he glanced around.
"Hell, no hard feelings. She's a bad piece anyway…every damn person in here's tried it and didn't like it…worst piece I ever had…" Ed said.
He turned before Merle could figure out what his next move was and moved on through the bar, his beer in his hand, toward the pool tables to talk up some kind of game or something with the drunk assholes there that didn't care that he was a woman beater and a first class asshole.
Merle could feel his blood boiling, but the friendly officers in the booth were making no move to do a thing to Ed Peletier…and really they had no reason to. There was no law that said a man couldn't have a drink and toss money at a woman, suggesting that she was a whore.
Merle watched as Andrea collected the money that Ed had left on the bar and dropped it into the jar under the bar. He could swear that her eyes were brimming tears, but there was a discomfort to her movements that he didn't figure were coming from Ed accusing her of being a whore…they were words he'd heard at least a thousand times…surely they weren't new to her.
Merle sucked his teeth and watched her for a second, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Andrea…" he said to get her attention.
Andrea didn't look at him. Merle glanced back at Ed who was now playing pool and clearly kept glancing in their direction with a smug damn expression on his face.
"Andrea…" Merle said again, a little louder.
Andrea looked at him then, but her expression was one that he wasn't used to. She looked like a kid who'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and was waiting to find out how she'd be sentenced to death.
Merle narrowed his eyes a little more.
"D'ja fuck Ed Peletier?" Merle asked, realization running over him.
Andrea didn't confirm anything and she didn't deny anything. She did nothing but remain where she was, her eyes brimming with tears.
Merle didn't need her verbal confirmation, though. The answer was there, plain as day on her face. He set his jaw, trying to figure out what to do with it...
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Andrea didn't know exactly what came over her when she saw the expression wash over Merle's face. He looked at her…with what? What exactly was it that he wore in his face? Judgment? Disappointment? Disgust?
The anger at the man bubbled up in her before she could even realize what was happening. Suddenly Ed Peletier was there…feet in front of her…smirking at her. He was the embodiment of every asshole she'd ever known. Everyone who had ever fucked her…literally or figuratively…and he was smirking at her.
Somehow she lost control of herself. She didn't even feel like herself when she smashed the bottle in her hand against the bar and circled around it, running at him. She could hear herself, screaming something…screaming like some kind of animal…but she couldn't even hear the words that she was saying and didn't even know what they were.
And around her there were other people screaming things too. There were hands and claws and people grabbing at her.
And she hit the pool table hard before hard arms wrapped around her, though she didn't know who they belonged to at the moment.
And somewhere she lost the bottle she had in her hands…and somewhere she lost the rage that made her break the bottle in the first place.
And then she lost her footing…the world spinning around her, everything slowed down, like a slow motion carnival ride in an amusement park in hell. She was moving, through no effort of her own, and she didn't feel like fighting it anymore. She let the sobs that had been threatening her overtake her and she slumped into the arms that were holding her…the ones that were moving her against her will and against the gravitational pull of the Earth.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see any of it. She wished for a moment that she could close her ears down so that she didn't hear the din of voices just over her own sobs and protests…things she wasn't in control of anymore.
And it wasn't until she hit the cold air of the night and the cold metal of the car that she started to even begin to come back to herself.
"Calm down!" Rick Grimes yelled at her. They were the first words she heard clearly and she heard them only as he smashed her against the car. "I don't want to have to arrest you."
Andrea realized she was shaking, but there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn't fear. She wasn't afraid of anything at the moment…not really. She thought that at that very moment she could have been one of those people who refused a blindfold in front of a firing squad. She didn't have room in her body for fear.
Rick turned her around and Andrea realized she'd almost lost the strength or the care to stand on her feet at the moment. Rick had a hand on each of her shoulders before she really sunk into the reality around her.
"You need to go home," Rick said. He ducked his head to the side a minute before looking back at her, leaning down a bit to try to look into her face where she had her head hung. "I don't know what the hell happened in there…but you need to go home and cool your ass down."
Andrea shook her head, fearing that she might never stop the sobs and wondering if she could speak around them.
"I can't…" she said. She looked up at Rick then. His face was creased with concern.
"You can't what? What's going on?" Rick asked, his grip tightening slightly on her arms.
Andrea just shook her head. That's all she could do.
How could she admit that she'd slept with Ed Peletier? How could she face Carol and tell her that yes…she'd slept with her husband?
She hadn't known Carol then…not really. She'd figured her to be just another white bread, over privileged housewife. The same kind of bitches that turned their noses up at her…and here her husband was with his hand outstretched and good money in it. Good money on a month she wasn't going to make rent. What did she care if one of those bitches got cheated on anyway? She could have even laughed to herself that some snotty little Bertha-Better-Than-You was such a bad fuck that her husband would put out his hand with what Andrea needed to cover rent for a piece of ass…
How could she admit that? How could she ever look Carol in the face again? How could she look at Merle and know that he knew the truth?
It wasn't pride…she didn't feel like she had any of that left. It was shame.
"I can't go home…please…" Andrea said, shaking her head again.
Rick looked at her.
"Where do you want to go?" Rick asked. "Michonne's?"
She could tell that Rick was lost. He probably didn't have a clue what had happened. She wasn't sure she knew herself. Still, she stifled an ironic chuckle at the thought.
Michonne hated cheaters…Dean had fucked her over by cheating on her. She hated him for what he'd done, but she hated the woman that he'd cheated with more. She'd never forgive Andrea for having been the other woman herself.
"Jail an option?" Andrea asked, trying to suck back what was left of the sobs.
Rick raised an eyebrow at her.
"Andrea…" Rick said. "I don't know what's going on…but you don't want to go to jail…you didn't do anything to go to jail anyway. They stopped you in time."
Andrea glared at him.
"Then let me go back in," she spat. "I'll get to jail one way or another…might as well take him down while I'm going."
Rick sighed.
"You're going home with me," Rick said. "We're going to work this out. Everything's going to be fine."
Andrea shook her head.
It wasn't going to be fine. How could it be fine? There wasn't any undoing what she'd done. She wanted to respond to him, but she couldn't find it in herself to say anything. Whether it was to jail or to his house long enough to figure out what she was going to do, she didn't care where she went. It didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting out of there before she had to see Ed Peletier again…before she had to see Merle again…before she had to see the judgmental faces of any asshole in there.
All that mattered at the moment was going somewhere that wasn't here, and it didn't matter where she went. She didn't have anywhere to go anyway.
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AN: Let me know what you think…but I feel like I might also have to throw in please don't kill me? Maybe?