Note: This turned out to be a long-ass chapter. But you know…action at least (in the end)!
When Merle walked out of the bar the next morning and saw Daryl coming back from the woods with no pretty Yankee in sight he sighed.
"Where's Sinclaire?" he asked.
"Sleepin'," Daryl answered. "Ya forget she had watch?"
"No. But what I don't understand is why yer out here and not in there."
"Lettin' her sleep. Called bein' a gentleman."
"An look how far that shit's got ya."
"Go to hell."
"Now is that any way to talk to yer favorite brother?"
"Yer my only brother."
"See. Limited edition. Oughta make me even more special."
"Shit," Daryl drawled. "Ya ain't exactly mint condition."
Merle punched him in the shoulder with a grin.
"Anything interestin' happen last night?" he asked since Daryl had been up longer.
"Nah. Walsh and T had to kill some walkers right before dawn, but it wasn't nothin' they couldn't handle."
"What'd they do with 'em?"
"Dropped 'em over the cliff," Daryl said, with a gesture past the box truck and up toward the campground. "Said it was easier'n burnin' 'em. I say it's bad for the water supply but don't nobody ask my opinion before they fuck shit up."
Merle nodded in agreement and watched the new girl as she sat down on a long next to the preacher and pulled her knees up to rest her chin on them.
"Found out any more about her?"
"Just that she still hates me. She ain't even talkin' to me now."
"Why the hell not?"
"I don't fuckin' know! All I did was ask her if she was ever gonna say what her name was. Preacher-man calls her Girlie, but that ain't her name."
"An what'd she say?"
"Said what the hell did I care anyway since I was such a jerk and walked off. Ow! What the hell Merle?"
Daryl rubbed the back of his head where his brother had cuffed him.
"Watch it. Yer with Yank and I ain't gonna have ya hurtin' her."
"I don't think ya got the point of the story. That girl hates me."
"Yeah but I know how ya get. Ya always go after the ones that fuckin' hate ya. Remember the cheerleader in high school? Or Macy down at the bank? Or—"
"Yeah," Daryl cut in. "This ain't like that. And I don't think ya oughta complain that I got standards. Maybe ya oughta get some of yer own."
"Ya talkin' 'bout my woman?"
"Yer stripper?"
"Hell, I ain't seen her workin' it fer nobody but me lately," Merle said.
"Bet she would if I asked her."
"Well if she did at least ya'd be doin' somethin'."
Defeated, Daryl stayed quiet. Merle nodded in satisfaction.
"Anyway, I thought ya liked Tiff."
"Got no problems with her," Daryl admitted. "Just…surprised I guess."
"Bout what?"
"Yer doin' good now. Clean and all that…"
Merle watched his brother contemplate the toes of his boots as if they held the secrets to the universe as he went on, "But ya know…she's kinda like the women ya always used to fuck around with before. Guess I thought it might change. And anyway, ya never used to bring a woman home fer dinner, let alone let her stay over. Now yer livin' with her."
"Ain't livin' with her," Merle denied. "It's just more convenient this way. Anyway, I believe in takin' what I can get," Merle said with a shrug. "Better'n sleepin' by myself. Only reason ya see it different is cause ya don't know what yer missin'."
Daryl didn't even bother to answer before he walked away.
"Why are you always so mean to your poor little brother?" Tiff asked as she walked toward the accessible end of the creek.
"Can't hurt to toughen him up," Merle said. "Where ya headed?"
"Wash my face. Lori's throwing up in our sink."
"What the hell's she doin' that fer?"
"It's a little thing called morning sickness," Tiff explained. "Trust me, it's worse on her than you."
"How would ya know that?" Before the question had left his mouth he had his answer. "Ya had a kid?"
"No." Tiff's eyes flicked away from his. "I didn't. Doesn't mean I don't know what morning sickness feels like though."
She walked away and left him standing there in slight confusion. It wasn't like he'd asked her before he fucked her. It wasn't even like he'd never been with a woman with kids before because he had. He couldn't put his finger on why it bothered him, so he did what he'd grown used to doing when he was confused.
Sinclaire groaned in annoyance when the truck door was jerked up, admitting fresh air and horrible, horrible sunlight.
"Hey Yank."
"We'd better be under some form of attack," she informed him.
"Nah," he said, climbing in and pulling the door back down. "Just wanted to talk."
"I have never wanted to talk less than I do in this moment," she said as she buried her head under her pillow.
"Better fer me that way," he answered with a grin. "Just listen like a good girl."
"Oh go straight to hell."
"Straight there?"
"Straight there. Do not pass go, do not collect $200…you really aren't going to go away are you?"
"No."
"Fine. Then go ahead and talk. Don't let the pillow over my head become a factor."
She pressed it down over her head and caught the words, "So….I…Tiff…pregnant…"
"What?" she yelped.
"Yeah. I can't figure out why it bothers me so much," Merle said. "It ain't that big of a deal—"
"It's not that big of a deal? It's a huge deal! It's…I…how could you be irresponsible? Don't you think about anything but what you want? Didn't you think about how this would—"
"What the hell are ya…oh. Yank, hang on just a second—"
Sinclaire didn't listen. She sat up and smacked him with the pillow. When that didn't relieve her frustration, she began punching him in the chest as she said, "You are the most self centered, irresponsible, son of a—"
"I didn't get her pregnant!" Merle grabbed her and yanked her around so that her back was against his chest as he pinned her arms to her sides. "She was pregnant before this whole thing. I just found out about it."
"Oh. Oh well that's different. Sorry about the punching. Why should that matter?"
"It don't matter. It's just…I don't know. Bugged me a little. Anyway just so ya know, I can't have kids."
"Why not?" She tilted her chin to look up at him.
He made a 'snip-snip' gesture with his left hand.
"Why'd you do that?"
"They kept tellin' me I'd end up like my old man," Merle said. "Thought I'd prove 'em wrong just a little bit."
Sinclaire felt her chest get tight. Somehow that knowledge, that Merle would deny himself a family just to avoid hurting them, wormed into her heart and made her want to do something she'd never wanted before. She turned slightly and put her arms around him.
"Didn't think ya was the huggin' type," Merle said in surprise as he tightened his arms around her.
"I could say the same for you," she countered.
"Reckon so. What'd I do to get ya all up in my lap anyway? Might have to do more of it."
"And the moment is killed." She withdrew and sat down next to him. "For a second you were…vulnerable. Women love that shit."
"Didn't ever help Daryl out. An I ain't never vulnerable, sweetheart. So what do ya think happened to Tiff's kid?"
"I don't know. Do you think it died in this thing?"
"Nah. She said she never had a kid…but that she knew mornin' sickness."
"Well, there are only two options. Abortion or miscarriage. Neither one is any of your business."
"Reckon not. Just…I don't know. I don't know much about her."
"How much did you know about your hookers?"
"Good point." Merle rubbed his chin. "Guess ya got me spoiled Yank."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Got used to feelin' like I really knew somebody." Before Sinclaire could respond, he cleared his throat briskly and grinned at her. "Anyway, I think I like this whole thing ya got happenin' with Daryl. Makes ya more touchy-feely."
"One hug doesn't count as touchy-feely. And it's not up to you to like it. It's probably not…happening."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it. Get out of here. I'm sleeping."
"Yer sittin' up."
"I wouldn't be sitting up if you weren't here. All these southern ladies have rubbed off on me. Now get out."
"Must not have rubbed off much. They wouldn't ever kick somebody out."
"They left you on a roof."
"Ya got me there. All right fine. I'm gone. Yer gonna miss me, but ain't nothin' nobody can do about it now."
"I'm sure I'll manage." Sinclaire replaced the pillow over her head and waved him away.
Daryl was sharpening his hunting knife so Merle was careful about exactly how hard he smacked him the back of the head.
"What the hell?"
"Come here. Tiff, ya come here too."
"I wasn't serious about askin' her to dance fer me," Daryl informed Merle.
"Good, cause I ain't sharin' my woman."
Tiff, who had just walked over, looked twice at Daryl in surprise.
"Don't ya know better'n to listen to him by now?" Daryl asked tiredly.
"I gotta talk to Daryl," Merle said. "Ya gotta go talk to Yank."
"Sinclaire?" Daryl and Tiff repeated together.
"We got any other Yankee's around that I don't know about?" He whispered something to Tiffany and then pointed her in the direction of the truck and then shoved Daryl in the direction of the woods.
"Where we goin'?"
"Tree house."
"It's a motherfuckin' deer stand!"
"Whatever. Start walkin'."
Meanwhile, the truck door rolled up again and Sinclaire swore what Merle would have called a "blue streak."
"Sorry," Tiff said. "Merle sent me. I thought you knew I was coming."
"Fuck you Merle Dixon," Sinclaire muttered as she sat up and finger-combed her hair. "What can I do for you Tiffany?"
"Merle said I should talk to you about sex. Are you a virgin too?"
Sinclaire dropped her face into her palm. "Can this group talk of nothing else? It's all about the sex lately."
"Well…sex is awesome. Especially since we don't have any other forms of entertainment."
"There's hunting."
"Gross."
"Fishing?"
"Boring."
"Talking?"
"What do we have to say? It's not like anyone here would really hang out unless they had to."
"Reading?"
"Why do you hate sex?" Tiff burst out.
"I…never said I hate sex."
Tiff leaned forward confidentially.
"Tell me honestly. How big is his dick?"
"Uhhh…what's average?"
"Oh my God! How can you not know these things?"
"I'm a career woman!"
"So am I! Okay, average is between five and a half and seven inches."
"He's not average."
Tiff's face filled with sympathy. Sinclaire was tempted to let it go at that, but it wouldn't have been fair to Bowhunter. It was Merle she was mad at.
"No, I mean he isn't average," she said again with emphasis.
"Oh! So that's all right then. Unless it's, like, freakishly huge. I knew this guy once who was…okay," she said when she saw the look on Sinclaire's face. "That isn't important. So he's better than average, but still normal. He's not really gay is he?"
"No! There is nothing wrong with him or any of his…uh…parts. Everything is in working order. It's me. The problem is me. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Sex is outside my area of expertise. I never even felt anything remotely sexual before. Or if I did I repressed it or…look, I don't really want to talk about this. You can tell Merle to mind his own damn business."
"He doesn't do that kind of thing," Tiff said with a grin. "If you don't want to tell me what the issues are that's okay. But I don't know why you think you don't know what you're doing. It comes pretty naturally usually. I mean…what does he want you to do?"
"How would I know?"
"Yeah, he doesn't really talk much does he? I mean when does he—"
"This is really awkward," Sinclaire cut in. "I know you're trying to help but…"
"I don't mind talking about sex. It's you that's making it awkward," Tiff countered bluntly.
"I think I got overly enthusiastic last time. Now I'm humiliated and embarrassed and worried and humiliated some more. There. Happy?"
"It's impossible to get overly enthusiastic with a guy."
Sinclaire snorted but Tiff only raised an eyebrow.
"Seriously. Mostly, they want it all and they want you to act like it's the best thing that's ever happened to you."
"And that's it?" Sinclaire asked dryly.
"Yep. They're simple creatures. Once you figure out how to do it all with a smile on your face you can walk all over them."
"I don't want to walk all over him."
"To each their own," Tiff said with a lazy shrug.
"I don't think you're going to have much luck walking on Merle either."
Another shrug. "We'll see where it goes."
"Are you in love with him?" Sinclaire didn't know where the question came from.
"Love?" Tiff laughed. "Now there's something outside my area of expertise. Seriously, Sinclaire. Fuck Daryl. No one should have to die a virgin."
"I wasn't aware he was dying."
"We're all dying."
With that pessimistically philosophical thought, Tiff patted Sinclaire's shoulder and got out of the truck. Sinclaire chewed her lip as she lay back again. Impossible to get overly enthusiastic huh? Who woulda thought? She tried to think back to the tree house, but instead she found herself thinking back to Tiff.
Love was outside her area of expertise? Obviously, sex and love didn't go hand in hand…but she couldn't deny that she'd been surprised when Tiff had so casually admitted that she didn't love Merle. How could she not love Merle?
Sinclaire shook her head. Merle might think he needed sex, but he clearly needed more than that. Otherwise it wouldn't be bothering him so much that he didn't really know Tiffany. He needed a woman who really knew him and who wouldn't expect to walk all over him with enough sex…and who wouldn't let him walk all over her. She wondered who she could set Merle up with. Lori was taken, in more ways than one, Andrea and Dale…Carrie and Glenn…the new girl maybe, but she was awfully young. Maybe Carol…Sinclaire drifted off to sleep.
"What'd I do now anyway?" Daryl asked when they were well into the woods. "I was mindin' my own business. Sharpenin' my knife…not hurtin' nobody…"
"Quit yer bitchin'. We gotta talk about Yank."
"Didn't we already do that today?"
"Yeah. But now I got new information."
"Oh yeah?" Daryl leaned against the tree his deer stand was built into and tried to look casual. "What'd she say?"
"Yer doin' it wrong."
"She said that?"
Merle actually felt a stab of pity at how hurt Daryl looked over that.
"Nah, she didn't say that. But she said she wasn't sure it was actually gonna happen. What's the problem?"
"Hell I don't know! I thought...I mean it was goin' good if ya ask me. Seemed like she liked it."
"What'd she do?"
"Come on Merle!" Merle only crossed his arms so Daryl went old school. "Second base. Headed for third I think."
"Just thinkin' ya mighta missed a signal or somethin'. Not like ya know what yer doin'."
"Thanks. Glad we're out here by ourselves."
"Ain't nobody that don't know yer a virgin by now."
"That's not strictly true."
Daryl was rendered incapable of speech by the sudden revelation that they were not alone. Nameless girl grinned down at them from the deer stand. Merle snorted and Daryl gave him credit for at least trying to hold back the laugh.
"Really?" She asked as she tossed down the rope ladder. "I mean…how old are you?"
"Older'n you. Younger'n him," Daryl snarled. "And what the hell were ya doin' in my deer stand?"
"You wouldn't let me have the truck…although I can't see why now…and I wanted some time away from people. The tree house seemed perfect."
"Deer stand. And ya oughta have asked me."
"I will next time. It'll be easier now that I know I won't be…interrupting anything."
"Bullshit. Ya wouldn't have been interruptin' nothin'—"
"Fer damn sure," Merle cut in with a broad grin.
"Fuck you," Daryl said, pointing at Merle. "I mean earlier ya knew damn good'n well that I was in the bar."
"Yeah. It was when I saw you that I remembered the tree house. So why aren't things working out between you and Sinclaire? I kind of like her."
"Don't give a shit what ya think of her. Get outta here."
"You know what? You're a—"
"Jerk," Daryl finished. "Ya already said that once today."
"I have?"
"Yeah. When I asked yer name."
"Oh. Well...since you're blushing I'll throw you a bone. It's-"
"I ain't blushin'. And I don't give a shit 'bout yer name. Only asked to pass the time."
"Uh-huh." She walked back toward camp. "It's Marie."
When she was out of sight, Merle watched as Daryl slid down the tree trunk until his head was on his knees.
"Ya really was blushin'. Think ya still are. Yer ears are all red."
"Suck it."
"I know yer hard up but…" Merle trailed off.
"What? Ya ain't gonna…" Daryl's own sentence died when he saw Merle staring through the trees. He stood up in shock. "Fuck. Never seen nothin' like that."
"I have," Merle said, remembering the highway with Sinclaire as he stared at the hundreds of Walkers shuffling their way. "Thinkin' it might be time to get the hell outta here, baby brother."