Red River Blue
Chapter 12
Wren wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tight Daryl felt like he could barely breathe. Then she turned on her heels and scampered back inside the prison like a little brown mouse. River came in next. Her hug was much more gentle, and it came with a soft squeeze on the hand and a warning to watch his back. Harley hovered around behind her mother, scuffing her boots on the pavement. Daryl wasn't sure what to expect from her, but she finally darted forward and wrapped him up in one of her rushed and rough embraces. No body real body contact and she whacked at his back like it was another man hugging him.
"Be careful Uncle Daryl," she whispered. She drifted back to her mother's side where the two women clung to each other for strength. When she was sweet like that, it was easy to see River in her despite the girl's obvious physical resemblance to his brother.
Hershel was standing next to Daryl, getting similar affections from his two daughters and even a hug from Glenn. Daryl still wasn't sure if it was a good idea to bring Hershel along. He was skilled in negotiations, but not so much in the running and fighting department. And that had been true even before he lost his leg. The man had become like a father to all of them. And after he lost his leg and survived, he became more than that. A symbol of hope. If anything happened to him it would be a devastating loss.
Carol brought the baby out so Rick could kiss her goodbye. Carl hesitated the way Harley had, then finally rushed in and hugged his father. On her way past him, Carol reached out and let her hand brush Daryl's arm. She didn't say anything. Maybe because there was nothing else to say. They all knew the risks and reality of the situation. He would either come back from this meeting or he wouldn't.
Merle got the gate for them, sliding it shut behind the small car. He gripped the fence with his one good hand and watched until the car was gone from sight. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Unlike everyone else in this place, he had enough personal experience with the governor to know what the man was capable of. And he didn't relish the thought of his brother being in the same room with that man.
In fact, Merle hated the whole idea of this meeting. It was a stupid waste of time and it was an uneccesary risk. Even if Rick and Phillip could come to some agreement, they could never trust the man to abide by what he promised. Most likely he was just going to toy with Rick for his own personal amusement. And that was best case senario. Worst case was that he was waiting to ambush them and then attack the prison once Daryl and the others were dead.
A soft hand came down to rest on his shoulder. Merle didn't have to look to know who it was. There were only two people in this hellhole that were willing to enter his personal space, and the smaller of the two was hiding inside the prison until her period was over.
"Daryl's a big boy," River said, "he can take care of himself."
Merle pulled his hand off the fence and wrapped it around her shoulders. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him and slid her arm around his waist. He pulled her into his side and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"How's Harley been with you?," she asked.
"Not as bad," he admitted, "you talk to her?" River nodded. She had not been sure it would make a difference, but she had a talk with the girl the night before. Laid the guilt on nice and thick like chocolate frosting. It was sort of a dirty trick, but when it came to Harley, sometimes River just had to work with what she had. And she knew if she guilted the girl about embarrassing her and making her feel like a bad mom, it might get Harley to knock off her sassy little attitude long enough to realize her father wasn't out to get them. At least that was what River hoped might happen.
"She likes that black woman," River said. When Merle snorted his displeasure, she added, "its good for her to have a friend." River kept a close eye on her girls and so far Michonne seemed to be a calming influence on her older daughter. Harley usually had a hard time making friends, so if she made one she liked, River was happy for her.
River reached into her back pocket. She had changed into a loose fitting tshirt. But her jeans were still damp so she was stuck wearing her shorts for now. From the pocket of her shorts, she pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Merle. He took it in his hand, memories of the long loving letters River had written him when he was in the service suddenly fresh in his mind. She had written him so often that the other men in his unit would tease him about it. Whenever there was a mail call, they would all shout for him. Where's Dixon his fucking mail is here! Open that shit up, maybe there's another half naked picture of his hot ass wife in there.
Merle took his arm off River's shoulders and unfolded the paper. It was a drawing. Wren was the only artist in the family, so he knew it was from her. She had gotten a lot better since the last time he had seen her scribblings too. This was good. It was a family portrait of all their faces. Everyone was smiling. Even Daryl was in the picture. Uncle Daryl couldn't be left out.
"Wren drew it for you but she didn't think it looked good enough so she tossed it out," River explained, "I took it from the trash pile."
"Nah, it looks just fine," Merle said, examining the picture and trying to smooth it out a little more, "Everyone looks good. Except for Darylina. He looks like a fuckin' mexican." River glanced at the picture again. She hadn't noticed it before but now that Merle pointed it out, she saw it. Daryl did look like a mexican. A dirty one. She leaned forward and braced her hands on her thighs, just letting the laughter roll over her.
"He's on the edge of the drawing," she giggled, "you could tear him off." Merle found himself smiling. River's laugh was infectious. She had always been that way. Able to make him laugh when other people couldn't.
"I think I like it with him on there," Merle said. In fact, he was going to hang this drawing up in his cell. Wren would like that. She was such a little doll. He bet it would make her real happy. "You got any tape?," he asked River. She nodded. That made him laugh too. What was he thinking? Of course she had tape. River was the biggest fucking packrat on earth. She probably had the entire contents of at least one Walmart shoved inside that tiny ass camper.
River wrapped her arm around his waist again and looked up at him. He could still see some hesitation and mistrust on her face, but it was tempered now with other feelings. She slipped her hand under his shirt and up his side, running her fingertips over the scar from the bullet that got him discharged from the service.
"How long has it been?," she asked. Her voice was calm and soft. Her question might have been unclear if she was asking someone else, but Merle understood what she wanted to know. She had asked him the same question many times over the years. How long had it been since he used. He found the question comforting. It meant River was thinking hard about taking him back.
"Had a little to drink not too long ago," he admittted. He had drank plenty of beer and even some liquor while he was living in woodbury. Sometimes he needed it to help him sleep.
"I'm not worried about a few beers," River said. She was worried about the hard stuff. Coke, meth, crushed up pills that he snorted up his nose in rails or melted in a spoon and shot into his veins. The stuff that made him go PTSD psycho and attack the furniture and her if she tried to make him stop. Merle nodded and thought about it. He used to be able to tell her the number of days. Or sometimes even months if it had been that long. But dates and times were not as exact in this new world.
"Since before I lost my hand," he finally said. Merle had been given some pain killers while the infection in his stump was healing up, but those had been given to him by a nurse and he had not asked for more than she felt he needed. Plus he had been in a shitload of pain. He didn't think that counted. Her finger circled the scar on his back as she stared up at him, looking him in the face to make sure he was telling her the truth.
River didn't say anything else. She just moved her hand down and wrapped her arm around Merle's waist, letting her head rest against his shoulder. That was a long time. Maybe the longest he had gone without using. Then again, it's not like his old dealer was still in business. Maybe he was only clean because he had no other choice. She felt like she still had some thinking to do before she was ready to fully trust him again.
TWD
The urge to go after Daryl and take the governor out while he felt he had the chance was burning hot inside Merle's belly. But there was a stronger urge that stayed his hand and kept him calm. Merle wanted to stay where his family was. If something went bad at the meeting, and the governor brought the fight to the prison, he was needed here. Before they came inside, he made River pull her little camper around and point it down towards the gate. In the next few days, he wanted to move it out and park it somewhere outside the fences in case they needed to make a run for it.
Merle finished taping Wren's picture to his wall when he heard some arguing coming from a few cells down. He positioned himself in the doorway of his cell, leaning against the bars to watch what was going on. Merle noticed several other people were doing the same. Carol was holding the baby in her arms and leaning against the wall and that little blonde girl was standing next to her. Michonne was in the doorway of her cell.
River was trying to drag a giant overstuffed bag of guns out of the cell she was sharing with the girls. And Harley did not look happy about it.
"It's taking up the whole damn room," River complained. She yanked at the heavy bag, lost her grip on it and fell back onto her ass on the floor. Harley seized the other end of the bag and started trying to drag it back into the room.
"This is our share," the girl insisted. River grunted and pulled herself back to her feet. She knew the deal she made with Rick was for a quarter of the guns he brought back, but that was because she had no idea of the sheer volume of guns he was bringing back. This was way too much. She had only wanted maybe one new gun each for them and some extra bullets. Not a full fucking arsenol shoved into their cell where she was tripping over it every five seconds.
"Just take a few guns for yerself and lets put the rest out in the other room," River said, trying to reason with the girl, "We don't need all that."
"Yes we do need them ya dummy!," Harley hollered back. Merle turned his face to the side, trying not to smile. Harley and River were mother and daughter, but they had been fighting like siblings since Harley was about five. It made for a rather amusing show at times.
"Can't you at least leave them outside the cell?," River asked the girl, ignoring the insult. She lunged forward and grasped the strap on the bag, trying again to pull the guns out of the cell. Harley let go of the strap and lounged against her bunk, watching her mother struggle with the heavy bag.
"As soon as you leave, I'm just going to drag them back in here," she informed her mother.
"God damn it Harley, I'm the mother!," River shouted, finally voicing her frustrations. It crossed her mind as the words came out of her mouth that anyone that felt the need to declare they were in charge was not really in charge at all.
"Shut the hell up both of you, we are trying to read," Wren yelled out from her bunk. She and Carl were curled up in there again with another stack of comic books. The boy looked rather amused with the family drama that was developing, while Wren just looked annoyed. If her mom and her sister wanted to fight and yell at each other, she wished they would go do it outside.
Wren glanced back up to see her dad standing outside the bars of the cell. He pointed at her first.
"Do not talk to yer mother like that," he said. Wren nodded her head and stuffed her nose quickly back into her comic book. Merle didn't know where she had gotten a little bitch attitude all of the sudden but having one rude ass daughter to deal with was enough. Next he turned his attention to Carl. Merle snapped his fingers at the boy like he was a dog.
"You!," he hollered. Carl's eyes got wider and he sat up straight, setting his comic book in his lap. "Get the hell out of my daughter's bed!," Merle told the boy, "Right fuckin' now!" Carl leaped up and scuttled out of the room, heading down the corridor towards the outside door. "Do not let me catch you in there again," Merle yelled after him, "if y'all want to read together, ya can do it at the goddamn table."
Wren's eyes were as big as saucers, but she didn't say one word. Harley had her nose wrinkled up, trying to decide between laughing at her sister and scowling at her father. At least that fucking kid was gone, he stunk like dirty feet and unwashed socks. She didn't know why Wren was letting some dirty boy lay in her bed in the first place.
Merle leaned down and grabbed the strap of the bag from River. She let go and backed away, one hand resting lightly on the bars in front of the cell. Her other hand was on her hip and her long pontail was falling forward over her shoulder. She looked ready to step in if she felt things were getting out of control, but for now she was not going to interfere. Merle gestured at Harely next, motioning for her to come grab the other end of the bag. She didn't move.
"Comeon and grab the other end of this bag," he told her. Not yelling this time like he had at Wren. Merle wasn't a total idiot. Harley narrowed her icy eyes at him.
"Where are you taking it?," she asked. Her arms were crossed under her breasts now and she was scowling at him. But she wasn't cussing or throwing shit at his head yet, so things were still good.
"To my room, you can keep 'em in there," Merle told the girl. Harley stared at her father for another moment before shuffling forward and grabbing the bag like she had been told. River watched them as they dragged the heavy bag down the hall, trying not to laugh at the identical scowls on their faces.