Chapter Eleven: Owen

On their way back to the bedroom, Mitch checks in on her Uncle Ed and Owen. When she comes back out of the dying man's room, she has a somber look on her face, "Uncle Ed doesn't have much time... Owen really needs me in there with him, he's not coping very well. Sorry Merle, you'll have to head to bed on your own," she states, sounding almost as disappointed as Merle feels.

He was hoping to convince her he was well enough to continue with their lust-filled activities. Even though Mitch had satisfied some of his needs, he was itching for more. However, the moment his body hits the bed, he welcomes the notion of sleep, now realizing how utterly fatigued he is. He thinks sleep will come right away but after several minutes he is still wide awake. His mind continues to race with thoughts of Mitch.

There was something that attracted him to her. He had never felt this way about a woman, especially one he had known for only a matter of days. At first, he thought his feelings had to do with the fact that he was horny and hadn't been with a woman in ages. Now that he had gotten off, he knew that wasn't entirely the case. He wonders what was wrong with him to be getting soft on some chick. Especially now, during the fucking apocalypse of all times. And a woman at least fifteen years younger than his experienced self, although, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

He knows he has to leave the apartment soon. The longer he waits around here, the higher the chances of never finding Daryl and the harder it will be to leave Mitch and the comforts of her home. He decides he will leave tomorrow, after the medical crap is taken care of. After finalizing his choice, Merle is finally able to drift off into dreamland.

He awakens after only a few hours of sleep because his stump is causing him an insurmountable amount of pain. He feels around the bedside table until he locates the lantern and switches it on. The soft glow being emitted from the battery-operated light allows him to see the bottle of pain pills. He reaches out to grab the narcotics and ends up knocking his water bottle to the ground.

"For fucks sake," he mutters under his breath as he gets out of bed. As he opens the bedroom door he notices light coming from the kitchen area. He sees a shadowy figure sitting at the table and immediately recognizes the person as Owen.

The floor creaks as he takes a step forward which causes the man to look up. Merle sees that Owen's eyes are red and puffy, his face tear-streaked. The smile that has started to form on the elderly man's face quickly vanishes as he focuses on Merle. He mumbles, looking down at his hands, "Oh... Thought you were Michelle... "

Merle ignores Owen's less than favourable attitude and begins to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. He finds the water bottles and immediately cracks one open. He takes a handful of pain pills he had stored in his pocket and washes them down with the room temperature liquid. He begins to head back to his room when the sound of Owen clearing his throat causes his to stop and turn toward the older man.

"Got somethang ya wanna say ta me?" Merle coolly asks.

Owen's eyes are still glossy with unshed tears yet the look he gives Merle is still firm and powerful, "Yes. Don't hurt my Michelle. Her heart can't handle much more pain..."

Merle shakes his head, "Watch ya tongue nigga'. Don't ya be tellin' me what ta do..." He isn't sure what infuriates him more, the tone Owen used with him or the fact that he referred to Mitch as 'his Michelle'.

"Her and Ed are all I've got," the man says shakily, his voice cracks and tears begin to fall freely down his face.

Merle was never comfortable around emotional people, especially when grown men cried. He was never a very intuitive person, but he knows Owen's outburst had more to do with his butt-buddy being on the brink of death than how Mitch spent her time. Merle mutters, "I'll be outta ya hair ta-morra'. Just rememba' I neva' asked for ya help."

"But we did help you. Now you are here. Now you need to help us. And for whatever reason, Michelle likes to be around you. You make her feel safe and I believe… I think you are her best chance at making it through this thing," the elderly man says quietly as he wipes the tears away from his cheeks.

Merle smiles inwardly but maintains a scowl on his face. He was flattered that the man thought he could protect Mitch, but that didn't change how he felt toward him. No one spoke to Merle that way. His stomach suddenly begins to grumble, his hunger hitting him like a ton of bricks.

As Merle opens the first cupboard to begin his search, Owen states, "The canned food is in the boxes by the wall. I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot… How about we talk while you eat…"

He finds a can of beef stew, cracks it open, and then sits down in the chair opposing Owen. He begins to eat the chunks of meat and vegetables with his hands, cutlery was a luxury out there in the chaos, so he doesn't think twice about his actions. He notices Owen staring at him while holding out a spoon. Merle snatches up the spoon and grumbles, "Thank ya."
Owen sighs, takes a deep breath in order to regain some composure, and then states, "Michelle is very special to me. I would give my own life to keep her safe. And as much as we don't see eye to eye, I know you can keep her safe. I know you are a survivor and would be able to protect her. So I am asking you, please don't leave. I can't protect her on my own…"

Merle finishes off his meal before speaking, "Naw. She ain't muh problem. I got muh own thangs ta tend to…"

"Take her with you then!" the urgency in Owen's voice is now evident in his pleas, "I've been watching those things down there. There are more and more each day. So far they have ignored us because we keep quiet but it won't be long before… The safest place is away from the city but… I'm growing old... I can't protect Michelle in the way you can… We wouldn't get more than a few blocks before…"

"Old man, ya betta' shut ya trap before I shut it for ya. Nobody tells Merle what ta do 'cept Merle," his anger was beginning to boil over. It wasn't so much the words Owen was spewing from his mouth but rather the way he was saying them. In fact, he kind of liked the idea of taking Mitch away from this death trap, but he was now too angry to thoroughly discuss that idea.

"I'm not telling you anything Merle, I'm asking you… I'm begging you! Please! Take Michelle…" Owen's words fade away into nothingness as Merle storms away from the kitchen and into his room, slamming the door behind him. He knows if he heard one more word out of that black shit's mouth he would no longer be liable for his actions.
Merle abruptly lays on the bed still seething with anger. However, before he can reflect on everything Owen said, the combination of a full stomach and half-a-dozen codeine enriched pills causes him to drift off into a dreamless sleep.