Chapter Text
An arrow plunged through the walker’s eye. Rick blinked once, then his reflexes hit a new gear: he pushed the walker off of him, scrambled up, snatched the fallen knife from the ground, and used it to kill the second walker that was coming for him.
His brain was still trying to put the pieces together. The Governor, the influx of walkers, the almost-dying, the arrow…
Someone was running towards him. “Rick! You ok?!!”
It was Daryl. Of course it was. There was never any doubt, the second Rick had registered the arrow, but still, actually seeing him, hearing his voice… after everything: Lori’s ghost, Glenn and Maggie disappearing, the Woodbury gig, Daryl leaving… Rick stumbled forward, almost collapsing in Daryl’s arms.
“Fuck! It didn’t…?” Daryl didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Everyone knew how those kind of questions would end.
Rick hugged him. Relief flooded over him, making him giddy. There were walkers not a hundred feet away, the outer gates breached, and Rick couldn’t be bothered to worry.
On the road back to prison, he had known he... he had realized... that the hunter leaving meant more than just losing one group member. After everything, it had been almost too much. He had wondered, confused, what had been the exact moment when the hotheaded younger Dixon had become his most trusted ally. When had that happened? How had Daryl slithered in and settled in his mind as the person he always looked to? At first, simply as a part of the group, but increasingly it had been as if Daryl had been an upcoming star of a tv show, his name advancing among the screen credits, from the ‘also starring’ to the regular crew, and episode after episode going up, up, until he’s right there, first of the first billed. And Rick hadn’t even realized it, not really, until Daryl wasn’t there anymore.
So, there Rick had been, back at the prison with an angry Glenn and an upset Maggie and an unknown quantity that was Michonne. Not to mention the phantom-Lori and the infant, oh god, the infant, only a few days old, and now he didn’t have Daryl anymore. He wandered around the prison, seeing visions of the short-tempered, lethal hunter holding the baby like she was made of glass, his stolid face melting, slowly, into a dazed little smile. The memory of that smile ached in his heart. This was all wrong.
And now he was back, a godsend, saving Rick’s life. Again.
Rick hugged him, holding him like he couldn’t believe he was back if he didn’t keep touching him. He felt Daryl’s hands cautiously wrapping around him, squeezing away the ache.
“I’m ok. You got it in time.”
“If you two lovebirds have quite finished with pawing each other, I’d suggest we haul ass and get behind the second fence asap.” Merle’s voice, dry and derisive and urgent.
Daryl’s arms twitched but he didn’t snap them off of Rick, like Rick somehow knew he would’ve done, had this taken place even a few short weeks ago.
Sometime later, he would ask what had happened during the time they had been gone. Something had.
Rick stepped back, gripping Daryl’s shoulder briefly. “Thank you,” he said simply. Gushing words had never been necessary with the archer. He nodded to Merle. The man was reloading, so obviously he’d done his share. The walkers were fifty yards away now, and Rick heard the others shouting behind the fence.
“Ok, let’s go.”
***
The acute need to deal with the walkers had postponed the awkward moment of settling Merle’s fate. Glenn closed himself up, didn’t say a word, just glared at everyone. Maggie held his arm, channeling calm, although Rick honestly couldn’t see where Maggie kept generating it herself. Everyone had been there, though, witnessing how Merle had fought just as intensely as the others, defending the prison, clearing the yard, helping with the quick-fix of the outer fence. Everyone also knew he didn’t have to be there; he was there because of Daryl. They couldn’t ignore Hershel’s “don’t underestimate his loyalty to his brother” just because they hated Merle’s guts. He was strong, and a vicious fighter, and he knew the Governor’s abilities. Even though it rattled against everybody’s instincts, they knew they had to solve this by finding a way to let him stay with them. If nothing else, they owed it to Daryl.
Rick looked at their faces. Closed up, resigned, determined, suspicious, neutral. He nodded.
“Fine.” He looked at Daryl. “I want to talk to you. Let’s go outside.”
The two men left; Daryl’s face was a mask of wariness, weariness, and stubbornness. They walked out, all the way to the inner gate, and stood there looking at the newly secured yard.
Rick didn’t hesitate. There was one question in particular he needed to ask.
“Why did you come back?”
“Made a mistake.”
Rick waited. And waited. Then, finally:
“Wasn’t...like I thought it’d be. Merle and me… We’re different now.”
Rick couldn’t help himself.
“No, you’re different now. Merle’s problem is, he’s not. He’s stayed the same.”
“No, he’s changed too. Just… he took a different road.”
This was the first time Daryl turned to look Rick straight in the eyes, no hesitation.
“But that don’t mean he’s not my brother anymore. That don’t mean I don’t want to keep him safe. Maybe you think he doesn’t deserve it. Maybe not, but he is my brother.”
“And if we decide he has to go -- whatcha gonna do in that case?” Rick blurted out, too much challenge in his voice. He regretted the tone of the question as soon as it was out of his mouth, but what was done was done.
Daryl’s eyes were steady. Yes, something had happened while he was gone.
“I’m not going anywhere. I know where I oughta be. I know where my place is. Just this: if you make Merle leave, you ain’t what I thought you are. Forcin’ my brother to leave to his death -- you do that, you’re no better than him or the Governor.”
“Daryl, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out exactly the way I wanted to… but maybe it’s good… now we got that out in the open.”
For once, Rick had to evade Daryl’s eyes. He looked down, eyes on the dirt and the sand, trying to find words.
“Merle would have to stay in the cell at least for a while longer. Just long enough for Glenn to cool down. And we would need to see if Merle can behave himself. So really, an awful lot is in his own hands, and I hope you can get that through to him. Merle could be an asset to us, what with his history with the Governor. And he’s a good fighter. And in his own twisted way, he’s loyal to you. Probably loves you, or whatever works for the family feeling for him.”
Rick looked up. The hunter was looking hopeful and suspicious all at the same time. Waiting for the ‘but’ -- hoping it wouldn’t come.
“I owe you more than I can ever repay. There’s probably nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” The words were strong and passionate, but the way Rick said them, they were a statement of a fact, like saying the sun rises from the east. Rick’s quiet dispassionate voice brought a flush on Daryl’s face.
“But I’m not responsible for just myself. I’ve got to take into account the others and their safety and wellbeing. So, I’m inclined to say Merle can stay IF he promises to try to adapt and IF you accept he is your responsibility. Like you said, he’s your brother -- for better, for worse. I have a bad feeling about this but I’m prepared to be proven wrong. I hope to be proven wrong.”
He put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder, looked him in the eye, intense and firm. “This ok for you? Good enough?”
Daryl’s face was still flushed -- the shock of hearing Rick’s earlier words not having passed yet -- but his eyes were steady and unflinching.
“Good enough. And if Merle can’t live with the rules, I’ll be the one to kick him out.”
They walked back; Daryl went to talk with his brother, Rick to tell the others how this was going to be from now on. Glenn’s lips were a tight line, but he gave an abrupt little nod, which was more than Rick had even dared to hope.
***
Daryl leaned on the cell bars. Merle was sprawled on the bed, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world. Daryl knew different, of course -- whatever Merle was, he wasn’t stupid. He had to know his position was precarious, and Daryl knew Merle knew his little brother wouldn’t follow him this time if he had to leave. And it wasn't good to be out there alone.
“So? What did your darling Officer Friendly and his minions decide?”
Merle tried to provoke him but for some reason that only brought a faint smile on Daryl’s face. He hadn’t much thought of himself as a changed man -- that sounded so pretentious, and anyway, it’s hard to notice such a gradual change in anyone, let alone in himself. But this, being like this with Merle, it made him notice it. That right there could’ve been his reaction, way back. That prickly, asking-for-trouble, being-your-own-worst-enemy, picking-a-fight attitude -- that was him, not so long ago.
And that was Merle still. Staying with the Governor had probably only made it worse. Merle was so sure nothing good would ever come his way, he was even lashing out to his brother. Aggravating, mocking, trying to hit were it would hurt the most.
What had he said to Rick? That they had taken different roads.
“You can stay.”
Merle raised his head, surprised both at the words and the tone of Daryl’s voice, calm and firm. Daryl wasn’t going to participate in Merle’s little games. This shit was serious, and Merle better accept it.
“You need to stay here for a while. You have to show you can get along. You behave, the others will behave. Rick vouches for the others, but you’re my responsibility. Don’t make me regret it.”
Merle just couldn’t help himself.
“Awwww, aren’t you cute! So ready to bend over backwards to follow Sheriff Rick, like a dog on a leash. Or maybe you’re just bending over, that’s one way to curry favor, right?”
Daryl forced himself to stay calm, tried to suppress color rising on his cheeks. Merle rose on the bed, sat on the edge.
Merle went on, venting his fear and frustration on his little brother. “What’s happened to you? Not that you ever had much backbone but this? You scurry like a rat back to these weaklings and throw yourself at your pretty little officer -- don’t you have any shame? This what I raised you for?”
Daryl felt like he was punched in the gut. He steadied himself. “You didn’t raise me. You left me.”
At that, Merle had the good grace to avert his beady eyes -- he remembered the episode in the woods. He remembered the scars.
Daryl went on. “I don’t gotta justify myself to you. And these ‘weaklings’ can take care of themselves just fine. You should know that better than most. And about Rick,” Daryl paused, remembering Rick’s words, his quiet statement, and letting the calm spread all over him, “you can talk smack about him or me as much as you like, I ain’t gonna rise to your ridiculous bait. But if I was you, I’d keep my mouth shut around the others. There are people here who’d shoot you in the face if they heard how you talk about him. And I sure as hell won’t take that bullet for you.”
Merle opened his mouth but Daryl stopped him. “Shut up. You prove you’re worth something to us, and we’ll be worth a lot to you.” Daryl’s voice became infinitesimally kinder. “These are good people. Just… try, ok?”
Merle looked at him, face wooden, jaw moving tightly, like he was rehearsing all the ugly stuff he could say. But he didn’t let any of it come out, only nodded slowly.
Daryl heard footsteps coming closer.
“Everything settled here?”
Well, this was as good a time as any to test Merle’s resolve. Rick stepped right beside Daryl, shoulder to shoulder, turned his head calmly towards him, looked at him for a while, searching his face for any sign that things had gone to shit here. “You good?” he asked, voice soft and concerned.
“‘m ok. No problem.” And despite everything, being worried about the Merle-situation and all, he knew he’d made the right decision. This was where he belonged, among these people. The thought raised the tiniest smile on his face, and Rick looked surprised, but pleased. Daryl smiling was a rare thing indeed.
Daryl looked back at his brother, and the smile froze on his face. Merle was watching them like a hawk, with a crooked, scornful smile, flicking his eyes back and forth between them, making farfetched assumptions or, at the very least, collecting ammunition for future Daryl-tormenting. For a sickening moment, Daryl saw him and Rick through Merle’s eyes. The hug in the yard. Standing here, now, not an inch between them, talking with soft voices, smiling. Daryl’s stomach lurched, he felt nauseous. Merle’s eyes were glinting malevolently -- Daryl knew his brother, he knew what he was thinking, he must be overjoyed to know he could hit a nerve properly next time, targeting their friendship, twisting it, mocking it, trying to attack his insecurities.
“Oh, he’s ok. So very much ok.” That was Merle’s sneering voice. “I’m good too. Hungry, though. Is the food any good around here?” He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head, grinning widely.
Daryl concentrated on Rick. He was still standing there, warm shoulder tight against his, in full self-command, face neutral, looking at Merle. He didn’t say a word, just looked, like he would look at a mildly interesting cockroach. Merle’s grin stiffened.
“You’ll be fed, never fear. You eat what we eat. We don’t complain, you don’t complain. Is that clear?” Rick didn’t wait for an answer. He turned his gaze back to Daryl, voice changing from clinical to cordial on the fly. “I think we’re both done here for the moment. Let’s go eat, Carol said the food’s ready. You can bring his share after.”
Daryl didn’t even look at Merle; he just turned and walked away with Rick. Merle can think whatever he wanted, throw insults and insinuations. He heard voices, talking, giggles -- that was his family. He had made the right choice. Fuck Merle and his dirty little mind, trying to twist things into something they were not.
And if some tiny part in Daryl’s heart hurt, just a little, just a second or two -- well. It was just a tiny part. Insignificant. Not really worth delving into.
***
On the third day they let Merle out. Most of the group treated him like he was an unpleasant relative who couldn’t be totally ignored but with whom no-one really wanted to spend any time. Hershel was the exception to this rule, of course. He took the time to talk with him, treat him kindly, like he would any other human being. Daryl saw that Merle was baffled, didn’t quite know what to make of it. Once, out of curiosity, he approached Judy who was lying in her cardboard crib. Carol shimmered in front of him, out of thin air it seemed, silent and menacing like she had started to be lately. Merle took one look at the woman who had been such a meek and helpless creature way back when, and walked away.
They continued to fix the outer fence and the gate; there was no way of knowing when the next hit would come, just that it would. Rick spent time with Merle, Hershel and Daryl, trying to get every single detail about the leader of Woodbury. In a straightforward tactical discussion, Merle was surprisingly decent. Rather fact-oriented, oddly businesslike. It was when he was silent, watching, that Daryl worried. Not that Merle would sell them out, no. Somehow he was certain his brother had left the Governor for good. It was just… Merle liked his little games, and this was a new playing ground for him. And knowing he had lost Daryl to the “other side” had left him all alone. Daryl sensed Merle was only biding his time. Sharpening his claws. And since he hardly dared to mess with the others, Daryl was prepared to bear the brunt of Merle’s mind games.
The group being what they were only made everything easy for Merle. Once they started to relax around him, they mostly forgot he was there at all. So they talked, and laughed, and touched. Beth brought Judy to Daryl, “Hold her for a second, will ya, I’ll get the formula,” and of course he took her, gladly, tickled her tiny belly and felt a smile spread all over his face. And of course it got worse -- Rick stepped from behind, put a hand on his shoulder, and they both just stood there, contently, watching the small bundle in Daryl’s arms.
Something made Daryl look up, straight at his brother’s eyes on the other side of the room. He was the only one looking at them -- nobody else thought there was anything remarkably special to look at. The group was tight-knit, tactile and, well, a family. Even Michonne was starting to become one of them. Us.
Again, it was as if Daryl saw themselves through his brother’s eyes. Him and Rick like that, too close for the “Dixon comfort”, right? Merle’s eyes were calculating, and Daryl knew he’d hear about this. Sly suggestions of “two daddies” coming up -- he’d better brace himself.
But what could he do? Carol had warned him not to let Merle drag him back down. If he now stepped even an inch away, Merle would win. Why should he act any different in front of Merle than he would without him there? These were his friends. His family. And somehow, he now had the first best friend in his entire life, and wasn’t it ironic that it took the world breaking down for that to happen.
And Judith… his heart melted just looking at her. There’s no shame in loving a small baby, so screw you Merle for trying to twist this too!
There’s no shame in loving, period. Even if it hurt, a little, sometimes.