Red River Blue
Chapter 16
He expected her to run. Fight him. He wasn't even watching her that close. Stupid woman. Couldn't she see he was trying to give her a chance to get away? It would be easy to go back to the prison and say she got away from him. Merle knew that story would not be questioned. But the problem was she wouldn't fucking leave.
Michonne was smarter than she looked. She knew his heart wasn't in this. He didn't want to do it. She kept trying to talk to him. About his brother. His family. Asking why he was doing Rick's dirty work for him. Why he had killed people for the governor. And the worst part was, he didn't have an answer for her. He knew this was a terrible idea. Not only because it was a sickening and horrible thing to do, but also because he knew it wouldn't help to keep anyone safe. Deep down he knew the governor wouldn't stop until they were all dead. But he was doing it anyway. He supposed maybe he was doing it because Rick had asked him to do it. Merle felt like he needed to earn his place in the group. Even if it wasn't the place he wanted.
"We could go back," she said. Her voice was eerily calm. Not the voice of a woman that knew she was being driven to a horrible and painful death. "We could just go back." Merle slowed the car to a stop and looked at her. "Both of us," she added.
He sat a moment, his many conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind like a tornado. Making him wish for nothing more in the world than a shot of whiskey and a cold beer in his hand. He gripped the steering wheel with his one good hand, his foot bearing down on the brake. Waiting and praying for the fog in his mind to clear. He didn't need a drink. One thought slowly lifted from the turmoil. Becoming clear in his mind, like he was looking at his own reflection in a still pool of water. If he went to this meeting, the governor might kill him. He knew that his death was a distinct possibility. Merle couldn't protect his family if he was dead.
Before he could change his mind he reached over and cut the phone wire that was binding Michonne's hand together. Her sword was stuck down between his seat and the car door. He pulled it out and handed it to her. Then he cranked the wheel hard to the left. Turning the car around. Heading back to the prison. He watched Michonne out of the corner of his eye, still not sure if he trusted her not to try and jump him now that she had her weapon back. But Michonne was leaning back in the seat, her body completely relaxed. She was smiling at him.
TWD
Daryl told Rick not to let anyone follow him. But once he got outside, he saw a car pulling through the outer gates where they were still hanging open. The sun was reflecting off the windshield, making it hard for him to see who was inside. He put a hand up, to shade his eyes from the glaring Georgia sun. The car was moving slowly, but Daryl knew when it rounded the corner, he would get a brief glimpse of who was driving. It was Merle. Daryl felt an instant of relief, quickly followed by a horrible sinking feeling. If Merle was back, that meant Michonne was already gone. They were too late to stop him.
Daryl darted back, pounding on the closed door so Rick would open it back up for him. After what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds, the door pushed open from inside.
"He's already back," Daryl hissed. Rick's eyes got a little wider before they returned to their normal size. They didn't say anything else, instead the two men just started back the way they had come. Through the rabbit warren of cement tunnels that would lead them up and out.
Carl pulled the gate open for them and Merle guided the car through the narrow opening. He wasn't sure what to expect. He scanned the faces of the people that were pouring out of the doorway one by one. River looked relieved. She did not look angry. That was enough for him. Merle slammed the car into park and climbed out. By the time he was slamming the car door shut behind him, she was already wrapping her arms around him. Holding him close before she reached up to pluck a bit of a leaf off the front of his shirt.
"What happened?" Merle turned his attention towards the voice. It was the old man that was speaking. Hershel. He looked more concerned than upset. Another good sign. Before he or Michonne could respond, Harley approached him. Now she looked angry. Real fucking pissed off. When she was angry like this, it was always easy for Merle to see himself in her. She pointed the knife she was holding at him. Her blue eyes were cold and icy, but red around the rims like she had been crying. That concerned Merle more than the knife she was holding. Harley never cried.
"What did you do?," Harley hissed. River moved her body. Just a slight shift, but she placed herself in between him and his angry knife wielding daughter.
"We just went to do some recon," Michonne called over to the girl from the other side of the car.
She was lying. Merle narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to figure out why she would be willing to lie for him. "Rick was supposed to meet with the governor again today. They looked like they were planning to ambush him," Michonne added.
"Yeah," Merle chimed in, "we better get ready in case he's coming here next." He decided quickly that if Michonne wanted to cover for him, he wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth.
Harley's angry face was replaced with a confused look. She lowered her knife, hesistating a moment before she stuffed it back in the sheath on her hip. Daryl said her dad had taken Michonne. That he was going to give her over to the governor. But maybe he was wrong. Michonne didn't look like she was being kidnapped. In fact she was smiling at her dad, like they were friends now or something.
River felt Merle edging around her. Moving closer to Harley. River's body tensed up, the soft hair on her arms standing on end. This was like watching two adult cats get introduced. At any moment a low growl might roll out of one or the other. That sound would be followed by loud hissing howl as they locked their claws into each other and sent tufts of fur flying. Harley's body was tense, but she held her ground as Merle moved towards her. He lifted his hand up, letting her see it, like he was approaching an injured animal.
"S'alright," he told the girl, almost whispering under his breath right before his hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. River sucked her breath in. She had to fight the urge to butt in and push them away from each other. The last time Harley had let her father touch her she had been at least two feet shorter. Her hair had been in two curly pigtails that looked like cheerleaders pom poms stuck to the sides of her head.
Merle called asking to see the girls and River let him meet them all at a public park. Wren played in the big sandbox while he pushed Harley on a swing. He pushed her so high River was afraid the little girl might fall backwards out of the swing and land on the hard packed dirt underneath, but Harley had loved every minute of it. After she had wrapped her little arms around Merle and called him daddy. She asked if he would bring her again the next weekend.
He promised her he would. But then the next weekend came and Merle never showed up. Harley sat out on that stoop for hours, her basketball in her lap and her little scuffed play shoes on her feet. River tried to coax her daughter back inside but she refused to come in. Not even for vanilla ice cream with chopped up bananas and chocolate syrup on top.
River finally picked up her phone and paged Merle, punching in her number and adding 911 to the end of it. Something she never did unless there was a real emergency. When he called back, River could hear the slur in his words. He was drunk. And she could hear some woman laughing in the background. Laughing and asking him who he was calling. Telling him to come back to bed. River slammed the phone down, angry at herself because she was crying. And even madder at herself for believing he might actually show up. After that River went outside and did something that she still regretted to this very day. She marched out there and told her ten year old daughter the truth. You might as well come in. He's not coming over because he would rather be drunk than be with us.
Harley was ten and Wren was five and River felt like a tired bitter old woman already at the age of twenty five. Later that night, once her girls were in bed, she laid down on the couch where she slept so each of her girls could have their own bedrooms and cried herself to sleep. Cried because Harley didn't cry. Because the girl simply nodded her head and took it, already hardened by life before she was even a woman.
River felt like she was watching things happen in slow motion. Harley glanced at Merle's outstretched hand, looking at it like it was a snake that might bite her. When he set it lightly on her shoulder, she tensed, but didn't run. That was Harley. She never ran from anything. River was more worried that the girl might take a swing at him. And she hit hard. When that foolish boy at school decided he was going to grope her ass in the lunchline, Harley had put him in the hospital with a broken eye socket. She got suspended for three days but no one ever touched her again.
Harley clenched her fist up, but she didn't swing. Her nails were digging into her palm. Then she heard Wren behind her. Harley could tell who is was by the sound her sister made when she walked. She never picked her feet up all the way and they shuffled against the pavement. She felt the girl's small hands on her back and then she was being shoved hard. The toe of her boot scuffed against the ground, throwing her slightly off balance as she fell into her father.
Merle caught his daughter as she bumped into his chest, only keeping her upright at first, but then his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a rough embrace. Harley stayed stiff a first, allowing him to hug her, but not hugging him back. It felt good in a way she would be hard pressed to explain. He smelled the same as she remembered. Like campfire smoke and the woods after a rainstorm. He felt a lot shorter than she remembered and the stubble on his face was rough against her cheek. She didn't even realize she was hugging him back until she felt her palms flat against the hard muscles of his back. Then she felt Wren's hands on her again. This time they were fisting into her shirt and yanking her backwards.
"That's enough," the younger girl complained, "You're hogging him!" Harley allowed her sister to pull her back so she could rush in and smother the man with her affections. Wren reminded her of an eager puppy. Harley was having a hard time keeping a straight face and not laughing at her. Her father was even patting Wren on the head. Like a dog. Harley felt the corners of her mouth betraying her as they started to twist up into a smile.
TWD
Daryl and Rick hurried through the maze of tunnels. The cell block was empty except for Beth and the baby. Everyone else was outside and Rick was worried about what Merle was telling them. He rushed ahead, stopping right outside the door. The sun was in his eyes, and for a moment he wasn't sure about what he saw. Michonne was standing on the other side of the car. Like nothing ever happened at all. Rick headed down the stairs, forcing himself to slow keep his movements slow and unhurried. Daryl stayed on the top of the steps and watched him go.
Carol passed by the man, heading in the opposite direction. She gave Rick's back what Daryl considered to be a rather dirty look as she went by. Once she got up the steps, she took the spot next to Daryl, leaning forward with one foot propped up on the railing.
"What's going on?," Daryl asked, nodding towards Michonne and his brother.
"Maybe that's what you should be telling me," Carol suggested. She was no fool. Since Rick got back from that meeting, there had been far too much secretive whispering. Hershel had been acting all sad and conflicted, with his face stuck in his bible. Rick was up to something. She could smell it.
"The governor tole Rick if we gave him Michonne, he would leave us alone," Daryl admitted. He had already told River, so he figured there was no point in keeping it from Carol. The two of them did a lot of quiet talking while they were washing up the laundry.
"He asked your brother to do it for him," Carol said. It come out sounding more like a statement and less of a question. Carol shook her head. She was not impressed. If Rick wanted to do something that horrible, he could at least have the balls to do it himself. Instead of asking Merle to do it for him. Daryl nodded, but she could tell he was distracted from the conversation now, concentrating on the little family drama scene that was playing out down by the car.
Carol leaned into the railing, stretching her back out. She glanced at Daryl out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her, so she knew she had the chance to have a good look at him. His gaze was focused on his brother and his older daughter. They were hugging.
"I'll be damned," Daryl mumbled under his breath. Then he smiled. A real smile, not one of the ones he forced out to make Carol feel better when she was trying to cheer him up. She didn't think it was possible, but he was even more handsome when he smiled. "I thought Harley was gone swing on him fer sure," Daryl said. He chuckled a little under his breath. When he saw Merle approaching the girl he almost rushed down there in case Harley went for him. Daryl stayed where he was because he saw River standing close by, keeping an eye on things. He knew she wouldn't let anything bad happen.
Carol smiled along with him, caught up in his happiness. Daryl was leaning againt the rails now, the same as her. He was standing so close that the sleeve of his leather jacket was brushing against the skin on her arm, completely oblivious of his effect on her. She struggled to keep her breathing even, reminding herself yet again that she would only make herself look like a fool if she made a play for Daryl. She had to be at least ten years older than him. And she looked older than that. There was no way a man that young and strong and good looking would be interested in worn out old lady like her. Not even at the end of the world.