A/N: Thank you for the follows and the favorites.
Chapter 3
It was like a grotesque dream where nothing made sense. Here she was on a roof in a walker infested city staring at bloody handcuffs and the disembodied hand of her oldest brother, the instrument of torture next to it. She vaguely wondered if Dale would want his hacksaw back.
Daryl was screaming 'No' over and over. She felt more sorry for him than she did for the one handed Merle. Her stomach lurched. It wasn't because of the hand. It was because she realized, at that moment, she felt nothing for Merle. She had always loved him in her own way and the best she could under the circumstances. Daryl loved Merle more than she did. That was how it had always been. Merle was family and it had never occurred to her that she didn't have to stick by him. He was gone and she felt free. Guilt washed over her. Was she an awful person?
All four men misinterpreted her silence. T-Dog gave her a remorseful look. Glenn glanced at her furtively before doing an awkward shuffle. Rick came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from him and he quickly pulled his hand away.
"I'm sorry about Merle." A second apology in two days? The world really had ended. Marianne didn't respond.
Daryl yelled, swiftly turned around and aimed his crossbow at T-Dog's head. Just as quickly, Rick pulled out his Python and pointed it at Daryl's head.
Marianne stepped in front of T-Dog, blocking him from Daryl's line of fire. She was beginning to like T-Dog. First, he apologized to her and then he helped them try to rescue Merle. He owned up to his mistakes and she could respect that. Dropping the key was an unfortunate accident. It could've happened to anyone.
"Daryl. He's done right by us. He tried to fix his mistake. It's not his fault Merle chopped his hand off, the crazy bastard."
Daryl lowered his crossbow and grunted.
"Rick, now kindly point that thing away from my brother." Rick lowered his gun.
"You got a do-rag or something?" Daryl asked T-Dog.
T-Dog pulled a blue bandana out of his pocket and Daryl took it. Everyone watched as he neatly laid it out on the ground next to Merle's hand.
"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs." Daryl gingerly picked up the hand by its pinky finger and examined it. "Ain't that a bitch?"
To Glenn's disgust, Daryl placed the wrapped up hand in his backpack. Marianne frowned, half wondering why Daryl was taking it in the first place.
She looked at the puddle of blood on the concrete. "He must have used a tourniquet, maybe his belt."
"Yeah, be much more blood if he didn't." Daryl started following a trail of it and T-Dog gathered Dale's tools. Soon, all five of them were back in the building with Daryl in the lead and Marianne in the back. As they walked down the stairs Daryl called out for Merle but there was no answer.
They continued down the stairs and through the building, encountering their first walker in a ransacked office which Daryl promptly took out with an arrow to its head.
They entered a reception area of some sort and found two dead walkers. Marianne wondered why the lamp by the window was knocked over. Why was this place a mess? There would've been nothing good to loot here.
"Had enough in him to take out these two sumbitches…One handed." Daryl reloaded his crossbow. "Toughest asshole I ever met, our brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."
"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is," Rick said.
They searched some more and found a kitchen with the gas stove turned on. Blood was smeared on it and they discovered evidence that Merle had cauterized his wound.
"Told you he was tough," Daryl said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."
"Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood," Rick countered.
"Yeah? Didn't stop him from busting out of this death trap." Daryl brought their attention to a busted window.
"He left the building. Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn was dumbfounded.
"Why the hell does Merle do anything?" Marianne ran her fingers through some loose bangs and tucked them behind her ear. She had known Merle most of her life and he still surprised her from time to time.
"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he's got to do." Daryl finished looking out of the window and Rick took his place. "Surviving."
"You call that surviving?" T-Dog asked in disbelief. "Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"
"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." Marianne conceded that Daryl had a point. Daryl turned to Rick. "You couldn't kill him. Ain't so worried about some dumb, dead bastard."
"What about a thousand dumb, dead bastards? Different story?" Marianne was preparing herself to intervene between Rick and Daryl, something she felt like she'd be doing a lot of if she and Daryl stuck with this group.
"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. Me and Marianne are gonna go get him."
"Daryl, wait." Rick held his hand up against Daryl's chest and pushed back on him. There it was. Time to step in between these two men.
"Get your hands off me! You can't stop us," Daryl said as Marianne firmly situated herself in front of Daryl.
"I don't blame you. He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine," Rick said to both siblings. "I know exactly how y'all feel."
"Then if you're not goin' to help, let us be," Marianne said.
"That's what I was about to propose. He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head." This time Rick was talking over Marianne and directly at Daryl. Apparently, her head was level enough for the cop.
"I could do that."
"Only if we get those guns first," T-Dog added. "I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"
A genuine smile graced Marianne's face. "Thank you T-Dog." Daryl gave Marianne an annoyed look which she ignored. "I guess we'll be needing a plan."
They moved their planning party to one of the ransacked offices. Marianne nearly slipped on some loose papers, leaving behind dirty boot prints on now obsolete forms. Daryl smirked at her clumsy footing and Marianne playfully elbowed him. The interaction didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the men, who weren't used to Daryl showing affection of any kind or degree or seeing Marianne as anything but serious.
Daryl half sat on the side of a desk and Marianne sat cross legged on top of the one across from him. T-Dog sat on the ground leaning against a different one with Glenn kneeling down beside him while Rick stood in the middle of them all with hands on his hips, in an authoritative stance. This was definitely a man who thought he was in charge.
"You're not doing this alone," Rick said in response to Glenn proposing he grab the guns by himself.
"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much," Daryl said.
"It's pretty stupid for someone that's not a complete idiot," Marianne added.
"It's a good idea, okay, if you just hear me out." Glenn looked up at Rick. "If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast. Look." Glenn drew everyone's attention the crude but effective map he had drawn on the floor with a dry erase marker.
He placed his hand a on a large binder clip. "That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now." He put a crumpled up scrap of paper next to it. "That's the bag of guns." He pointed to a spot on the map. "Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That's where Daryl, Marianne, and I will go."
"Why me?" Daryl asked.
"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun." Glenn placed a large paperclip down. "While Daryl and Marianne wait here in the alley, I run up the street, grab the bag."
"But you got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.
"You and T-Dog, right. You'll be in this alley here." Glenn put an eraser on the map.
"Two blocks away? Why?" Rick asked.
"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won't go back to Daryl and Marianne. I'll go forward instead, all the way around to that alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. Afterwards, we'll all meet back here."
"Hey kid, what'd you do before all this?" Daryl asked.
"Delivered pizzas. Why?"
Glenn's plan was a good one but he forgot about one thing. Other survivors. It happened fast and Daryl didn't take the diplomatic approach when a teenage boy appeared. The boy wouldn't stop yelling and Daryl hit him across the face with his crossbow, knocking him to the ground. Not one hundred percent pleased with her brother's tactics but, finding force was often the only option in these types of situations, Marianne decided to keep a look out for swarming walkers at the alley entrance.
Instead of the starving undead charging at them, it was two very angry looking men. She retreated in between two dumpsters so the men wouldn't spot her when they first ran into the alley.
"Daryl!" She yelled in warning as she tackled the second skinnier, younger guy and let the bald one go after Daryl. They hit the ground, with Marianne on top of him knocking the breath out of the stranger and making him drop his metal bat. She kept him pinned down and watched helplessly as the other man repeatedly kicked Daryl.
Glenn appeared, nearly running over Marianne, who was now punching the younger guy in face to try to take some fight out of him. "Glenn, help Daryl!"
Glenn, still shocked by the scene he had stumbled, froze. "Glenn!"
"That's it. That's the bag, vato! Take it! Take it!" The man underneath her yelled, drawing the other man's attention to Glenn. He went after Glenn, and Marianne hit the man underneath her one last time before launching herself at the bald guy who had just punched Glenn to the ground.
The fight was quick and sloppy with Glenn being completely useless. She needed to remind herself to give him a few pointers if they made it out of this alive. The bald man screamed in agony and Marianne saw an arrow sticking out of his ass. This made things a little easier.
Except, she felt something hit the side of her face. Marianne had forgotten about the metal baseball bat she had knocked out of the younger man's hand. She stumbled and it was just enough time for another man to grab her and throw her into a car that had just pulled up. She landed on top of Glenn who scrambled to get out from under her.
Her head pounded and she could feel a large bruise forming. At least there wasn't any blood. She hated stitches. Despite the strong urge to close them Marianne kept her eyes opened and watched where they were going. She didn't know Atlanta, having only been there a few times before, so even though she remembered the turns and what the streets looked like she had no clue where she was in the city. It didn't take long to arrive at their destination.
"You've got to be kidding me. A nursing home? You're risking these senior citizens' lives for some guns?"
"No, we're trying to protect them with those guns." Said the man who had introduced himself as Guillermo, who she presumed was their leader.
"You're an idiot."
"I don't think you should be talking to them like that when they have guns pointed at us," Glenn whispered to her. She scoffed.
"Look, we don't want to cause any trouble. Right Marianne?"
"Right. We'll be the most well behaved hostages you've ever had."
Guillermo laughed. "I'm starting to like her."
For the second time that day, Marianne felt like she was dreaming. Here she was in a walker infested city, a hostage in a nursing home full of abandoned old people and their families. And now she was being nearly dangled over the side of a roof with duct tape over her mouth and Glenn whimpering beside her.
She looked down to see Rick and Daryl with the teenage boy as their prisoner. Two people for one wasn't a fair trade. They were going to want the guns. She hoped Daryl wouldn't try anything stupid just because she was involved.
With their little performance over Marianne and Glenn were back inside the nursing home with two men guarding them. There was nothing better to do than talk to her fellow captive. Plus, with her head injury, she needed to keep alert.
"So, you were a pizza delivery boy." Glenn stared at her. "I'm tryin' to do some small talk here."
"Oh um, yeah. What'd you do?"
"I was a waitress. Trying to save up for college. Had a full-ride scholarship but that didn't pan out."
"What happened?"
"I'd moved into my own crappy apartment but the paperwork went to my dad's. He never told me about it. The deadline passed and I lost it."
"Man, that sucks."
"Yeah, well that's life. It don't matter anymore." There was a pause. "So, how exactly did Shane find out I was goin' back for Merle?"
"Well, um, look. You see, Dale asked me and I'm not the greatest liar and I'm terrible at keeping secrets. He must have told Shane."
"Meddling old fool."
"Hey, he was just worried about you."
"Worried about me?" She let out a derisive laugh that hurt her head. "More like he was bored."
"You probably won't believe this but some of us care about you."
"You're right. I don't. No one cares about the Dixons." She sighed. "Look, I know Merle is a shitty person and I know you didn't want to come but I'm grateful you did and so is Daryl. Just don't tell him I told you. For your own sake, not mine."
"How are you not freaked out right now?"
Marianne shrugged. "I don't know. Would you believe it if I said I'd been through worse before the dead started eating people?"
"Really?"
"Maybe I'll tell you a story or two sometime. But you'll have'ta get me shitfaced drunk first and that's not an easy thing to do." She smiled at Glenn but she didn't know why. "Don't worry about our sorry situation too much. I have a feeling you and me are gonna be just fine."
The conversation lulled and Marianne found herself sitting on the floor with a Chihuahua in her lap after one of the elderly women noticed she was hurt and made one of their guards give her a glass of water and aspirin. She smirked at the sight of a frail, old woman bossing around a big, tough looking man.
Glenn had wandered off and was talking with some of the other people in the room. Marianne was engrossed with playing with the dog until an old man started having an asthma attack and no one could find his medicine. One of the old women left to get help. Marianne abandoned the dog to go stand next to Glenn, who looked extremely worried for the asthmatic old man.
Not even three minutes later the old woman returned with several people in tow.
"What the hell is this?" Rick asked.
"An asthma attack," Glenn answered in all seriousness, completely missing the point of Rick's question. Marianne suppressed a laugh. She was starting to really like this guy. "Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."
"I thought y'all were being eaten by dogs, man," T-Dog said angrily. This time Marianne did laugh which she instantly regretted since it sent a hard throbbing pain through her head. The group turned to look at the three Chihuahuas lying in a dog bed together. The middle one barked at them.
Daryl looked at his sister and finally noticed her swollen cheek and the dark purple and blue bruise on left side of her face. "Son of a bitch." He rushed over to her to inspect it while Rick pulled Guillermo aside for a talk.
"Hurts like one too."
"I'll kill the bastard—"
"Relax, he got the worse of it." She pointed to a man who sported two black eyes, a busted lip, and a nice looking bruise of his own along his jaw.
"Not bad enough if ya ask me."
"I didn't. So get over it. I have." Daryl gave her a skeptical look.
"Don't be a dumbass and act all tough, I don't need you passin' out. Ya got no color in your face 'cept blue and purple."
"Purple's my favorite color. And who says I'm actin'?"
Daryl huffed. "Ya know what I mean."
"Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat," Glenn said as the five of them walked back to the railroad tracks where they had left the van.
"Don't tell anybody."
"You've given away half our guns and ammo," Daryl said indignantly.
"Not nearly half."
"For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long you think they got?"
"How long do any of us?" Rick asked.
They all stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the spot where their van should be.
"Oh my God," Glenn said.
"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked shifting his eyes back and forth.
"We left it right there. Who would take it?" A hint of panic entered Glenn's voice.
"Merle," Marianne said simply and sighed.
Daryl briefly looked down before glancing at Marianne. "He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.