Chapter Text
"We'll find her if I have to search every goddamn inch of these woods."
Most of Daryl's life he's been at odds with the rest of the world, but the one place his luck almost always turned was in the woods. Even with civilization shot to hell and gone, the woods are still his domain. But ever since the dumbass cop currently trudging beside him showed up, even that's been ruined for him.
Not finding the girl makes his stomach churn worse than losing Merle did. He meant what he told these assholes back on that roof. Nothing will kill Merle but Merle. In his nightmares, he fears his brother finally managed to do himself in. Faith rarely plays out for Daryl, but admitting his brother might be dead? Impossible.
Maybe Daryl survived nine days lost in the woods with no one looking, but Sophia? He won't fucking stop til he finds her, and at least with her, it's a smaller space to search. Merle's dumb ass could be anywhere from here to the Smokies by now.
With Rick not replying to Daryl's statement, he reaches out and halts the cop. Rick looks worn out, near to giving up, and Daryl wonders if the man is still nursing some sort of injury or illness from his coma. That's not really Daryl's business, not with the wife and boyfriend both fluttering around Rick like he's the second coming of Christ himself. To be honest, he's not entirely sure which one is more in love with Rick. Pushing away the grain of compassion, he gives Rick a hard shake.
"Gonna find her, and you and all those other useless shitheads are gonna help me."
Rick blinks, clearing away whatever mental fugue he was in, and nods shakily. "Of course. We can't leave a little girl alone out there."
With an ease Daryl envies, Rick squares his shoulders and heads for the highway guardrail they can just now see. The despair is gone, replaced by confidence, and Daryl takes note of the absolute bullshit Rick is capable of projecting. Last thing Sophia's mama needs is seeing a cop lose hope, so Daryl will take what he can get.
Rick's guilt over putting Sophia down will buy Daryl some time to keep looking, and if they give up on her? Daryl will just stay his ass here and keep looking.
"What the hell? Where did everyone go?"
Those words make Daryl's blood run cold. If those cowards ran off while he and Rick were searching the woods for Sophia, he hopes they get eaten slowly. He vaults the guardrail after Rick, scanning the area.
Merle's bike is still here, but the only other vehicle left is the Cherokee. Dale looks both happy and worried at the same time, but Daryl doesn't trust the old bastard's weird optimism about the stupidest shit. Glenn, on the other hand, looks fucking excited. It shouldn't settle his nerves any, but the kid's street smart in a way Dale will never be no matter how old he gets.
"Sophia came back!" Dale exclaims. "But she wasn't by herself. Man and his niece out hunting found Sophia and brought her here. Invited us out to the family farm for a day or two while we resupply."
"And they all just up and went?" Daryl spits out. He can't believe the trust these people have in perfect strangers. It sure isn't smart and nearly got them killed back at the CDC.
"T-Dog was getting really sick," Glenn says. "Infection from the cut and walker blood, we figure. The girl, Beth, she says her daddy is a veterinarian and has medications that would work for people, too."
"Why did everyone go? Shane, Lori, the kids?" Rick sounds baffled, and Daryl considers shaking him again. It's his damn deputy buddy who thought this was a good idea. Weren't cops supposed to be suspicious of strangers, or was it only strangers who look like the Dixons do?
"Because it's a hell of a lot safer there than sitting on a highway waiting on that herd to change its mind and wander back?" Glenn's exasperation breaks through Daryl's irritation and Rick's confusion. "Which now that you're both back, if you think it's so crazy, then we should go find out."
Daryl pauses only long enough to get the directions to the farm before stalking off to his bike, grumbling the whole way. He has antibiotics in the bike's saddlebags, along with whatever else Merle stashed, but no one would think to ask him anyway. Leading the way lets him simmer from irritation to finally wrapping his brain around the fact that Sophia is safe. Maybe he didn't find her, but he was out there looking. She mattered to a whole lot of people, including perfect strangers who brought her back to her mama.
Kid's a damn lucky little girl.
The farm looks like it belongs in some children's picture book about how farms work, and the sheer openness makes Daryl's skin crawl. On one hand, you'd see a herd long before the walkers got to you. On the other, there's only the barely-there sort of fences that remind cattle not to wander off between them and the dead. Not for the first time since Merle disappeared, Daryl wonders why he stays with these people.
He's reminded when they pull to a halt and their people already on the farm come to greet them. Rick gets folded into his little family group quickly, but to Daryl's surprise, Carol and Sophia come straight for him.
"I'm sorry we didn't wait for you to get back," Carol manages, arms wrapped around Sophia's shoulders like she can't bear to let go.
Scanning Sophia quickly, Daryl notes she's a bit scraped up and a lot dirty from her misadventure through the woods, but overall, none the worse for wear. He just nods curtly, gaze darting away from them to study the folks waiting on the porch instead. The gratitude in Carol's expression makes him uncomfortable.
"Was just being a decent human being," he mumbles when he realizes Carol is waiting for some sort of response. "And Rick was out there, too."
Sophia's happy expression clouds instantly. "You wouldn't have had to come looking if he hadn't left me."
Anyone else might soothe her Rick didn't mean to lose her in the woods, but Daryl never would have put her down somewhere and trusted a city kid to find her way back. The completely pessimistic side of him grumbles Rick wouldn't have left Carl's side at all. He could've at least stuck the girl up a tree. Logic is not the cop's strong point at all, from all Daryl's seen.
"Would you teach me?"
The unexpected question from Sophia startles Daryl. "Teach you what?"
She shifts away from Carol, standing a little taller, and for the first time, he realizes she's probably older than he thought she was, already starting to gain her adult height. There's a glint of steel in her now, honed by feeling helpless in the woods, he bets.
"How to hunt and track and all the stuff to stay safe in the woods. The girl who helped find me? She wouldn't have gotten lost out there like a scared baby. She was out there hunting."
Daryl ought to say no. Back at the quarry, he would have, but back there, Sophia had to dodge Ed, who reminded Daryl far too much of his own unlamented daddy. Funny how both of them got eaten by walkers, and he can't imagine anyone deserving the fate more. Now? It's not like anyone else is going to step up to teach the girl how to survive, is it?
"Not sure how much I can teach you in a few days here, but yeah. I'll teach you, if your mama says it's okay."
Sophia's grin is damn near blinding, she's so happy by his agreement. He can live with a kid's gratitude. Carol's teary smile and nod make him wish there was enough daylight left to head for the woods.
"They said we could set up camp over there," Carol says, motioning toward where the RV and the little green Hyundai are parked.
The tents already set up and a fire flickering in an improvised fire pit. Daryl doesn't really want to be cozied up with the rest, but he's pretty damn sure he doesn't trust anyone else to make Sophia a first priority except Carol. Granted, when he and the others came running into the quarry camp during the walker swarm there, Shane did have Carol and Sophia gathered up, but would he now with the soap opera twisting between him and the Grimeses?
Nah, Daryl isn't taking that chance.
Shouting from the vicinity of the porch draws Daryl's attention, and somehow, he's not surprised somehow Rick is at the center of it. After all, Daryl pulled a knife on the man within the first hour of meeting him. Why would he be surprised the farmer lost all his welcome and has a shotgun leveled at Rick?
Assuming Rick can take care of himself, especially with Shane stepping up to Rick's side like a bull ready to charge, Daryl just steps so his bulk is between Carol and Sophia. He can't get both on the bike, but if he has to, he's got no qualms shoving them in the Cherokee to get the hell out of here. It's Carol's car anyway.
"You are not welcome on my farm, Rick Grimes."
The farmer has one of those voices that carries well without the bellowing tones most men need to use. He never waivers with the shotgun, either, and Daryl wonders if Rick's obscene amount of luck is about to run out. Apparently not, because a blonde girl places a hand on the man's white shirted arm and disarms the worst of the situation with a soft spoken, "Daddy, there are kids where you're aiming that gun."
With the shotgun in the hands of a girl who looks barely older than Sophia, Daryl relaxes just a little bit. If the old man's willing to back off just because there are kids in their group, he figures on Sophia and Carol being mostly safe for the time being. If Daryl plans out quick exits for them anyway, no one will blame him.
"Come morning, Carol, maybe it's time we leave," he suggests. "Not sure this place is any safer than the highway."
She looks startled at his words. "We? You, me, and Sophia?"
Daryl shrugs, reluctant to admit his mental adoption of the pair out loud. "Glenn can be useful. T-Dog, too."
There's a certain irony in the way Daryl was raised that out of all the people in the group, he thinks the best to keep at his side are the two his father would have loathed the most. The childish part of him delights in the posthumous 'fuck you'.
T-Dog would go, he thinks. Man likes feeling useful, and he's carrying too much guilt over Merle to not step up as a protector if he's asked. One part of Daryl worries because T-Dog ran once to save his own skin, but it was an entirely different situation than leaving a woman and child to suffer. Running from the man who nearly killed him is not even in the same category as protecting a little girl.
And Glenn? Well, give the boy a few years, and he'll be as badass as any Dixon ever thought himself to be.
Rick tries to play peacemaker, even after the farmer's instant dislike. "I'm not sure why you know my name, but I promise you, I don't mean your people any harm. If you'll just let us stay the night, we'll be on our way first thing in the morning. It's too late to be on the road with the kids in a strange place."
The farmer seems likely to disagree, but he is cut off from speaking by his daughter. "Daryl was with these people before. Y'all still got Daryl Dixon, or did you lose him, too?"
At the sound of his name, everyone turns to look at Daryl. Jesus Christ, how do any of these assholes ever keep anything a secret? They don't know why these strangers know Daryl at all, but they've identified him without a second thought. He's also baffled as hell about why the girl knows his name. Daryl isn't that uncommon a name in Georgia, but he's damn sure he's the only Daryl Dixon.
Clearing his throat, he cranks out gruffly, "I'm Daryl. Why you asking?"
For the second time this evening, Daryl finds himself the focus of a girl grinning herself silly at the sight of him as she practically bounces across the farmyard to stand in front of him. He's even more confused about this one. Sophia made sense, he guesses, but he doesn't know this girl from the man in the moon. Might be a good thing the girl left the shotgun on the porch, because he thinks she might be addled in the head.
"Your brother's name is Merle, yeah?"
Uncertain why she knows both their names, Daryl nods. Generally, being related to Merle hasn't been a positive thing in meeting new people, even in the rougher parts of the world. But it just makes her look even happier, something he didn't thing was possible.
"C'mon, then. He's inside the house."
"Merle's in your house?"
Daryl's voice cracks on the statement, making him sound gruffer than he likes, but she just nods cheerfully. When she reaches out to curl her fingers around the crook of his arm, he doesn't flinch away or resist, so she tugs enough to get him to follow her. Trusting that Sophia and Carol are reasonably safe at the moment, he lets himself be led past the others into the house.
The house is a sprawling old farmhouse full of nice furnishings, the sort of place he's rarely been welcomed inside. When he was, it was on the rare times he got handyman work going in an area that didn't hear Dixon and think criminal, usually when Merle got himself locked up again. Now, this perky teenager is shooting him bright, happy looks while leading him to a downstairs bedroom.
Guilt flickers deep in Daryl's chest when he sees Merle's prone form settled in the pristine white sheets. A colorful quilt rests across the lower half of his body, leaving his chest bare. The blistered skin everywhere his shirt left exposed isn't what makes Daryl wince, though, although it looks like that's been treated with some sort of salve at least.
It's the bandage wrapped stump where Merle's right hand used to be.
"He's gonna be okay." The girl lets Daryl's arm go now that he's in the room, going to settle next to Merle on the bed and surprising him by taking Merle's hand between both of hers. "I'm Beth, by the way. Daddy fixed the mess Merle made of his arm and gave him enough antibiotics to scare off infection for the next decade, he says."
"Why?"
Daryl honestly expects some answer about it being the Christian thing to do, because he's seen the decor. This place has enough cross-stitched Bible verses and other religious paraphernalia to stock a gift shop. It's also the usual reason people like this give for helping someone like Merle.
"You don't know anything about your family, do you?" Beth looks sad for him, and he flinches away from the pity.
"Got Merle. All I ever really needed to know." Daryl's mama lived in the bottom of a bottle the whole nine years he knew her before she died, and the less he thinks of his daddy the better. Merle isn't perfect, but he's all Daryl has.
"Your mama and my daddy's mama? They were sisters. That's part of why Merle made it here even as delirious as he was."
Daryl knew vaguely that his mama had a sister out there once upon a time, but the sister died before Daryl was born. His mama never mentioned a nephew or other family, though. Looking around this place, maybe they were ashamed of her. How Merle knew to come here baffles Daryl.
"He awake much?" Daryl needs his brother to tell him what the hell is going on here. He feels more lost now than he did when he found the amputated hand and no sign of Merle.
"Yeah. Daddy had to do some extra work today to clean the stump up so maybe he could use a prosthetic later. Merle refused the good painkillers, so Daddy sedated him."
"Don't think he ever turned down the good shit in his whole life before," Daryl mumbles. What is it about this place that soothes Merle's demons that much?
"He wants to get better faster. Said he needed to go find his baby brother before that dumbass cop got you killed."
The curse word sounds weird as hell coming from Beth, and she giggles when he darts a frown her way. Why she's so chipper with all that's going on, sitting at Merle's side and holding his hand, Daryl has no idea. Maybe the hand holding is the family connection, as vague as it seems. He can't imagine Merle being kind if he wakes up to Beth touching him, though.
"My brother ain't a nice man," he mumbles, feeling like he should warn Beth.
"I dunno about that. I think maybe everyone told him he wasn't, so he acted bad because he was expected to."
The assessment is both naive - and hits too close to home for Daryl's own behavior. "He ain't never met a drug he wouldn't use and keep using."
"Guess we'll have to wait and see. Plenty of time for that, since you're family and not going anywhere, right?"
The casual assumption that they'll be staying puzzles Daryl, but until Merle is awake, he can't argue with what his brother might do. Merle came here, out of his mind with pain, blood loss, and infection. This place or these people are important to him, likely even more than Daryl himself. He pushes away the hurt that thought causes. By now, he should be used to Merle's priorities including him only peripherally.
Remembering the farmer's bold statement that Rick isn't welcome on the farm, Daryl shifts uneasily. "Can't stay if your daddy is throwing the kids back out there. Can't trust those idiots to keep them safe."
"Like Sophia." Beth sighs. "That's part of why daddy's mad. I mean, we don't know the whole story about Merle, but then this Rick goes and loses a kid, too? What kind of cop was he before all this? Not a good one."
"One of the kids is his kid, though."
"Maybe you need to go tell Daddy you want them to stay, then. You know them better than we do, right?"
Daryl considers whether or not he thinks he can vouch for Rick. The idea that his opinion matters more than either cop is confusing, but he stayed at the quarry because of the kids and he stayed after Rick's leadership coup because of those same kids. Why would he stop now?
"You'll get me if he wakes up?" Merle's still sleeping, looking as content as Daryl's ever seen him despite the blistered skin and missing hand.
"Of course."
Outside, things are still tense, but at least everyone is still here and no one has a weapon immediately in hand. Daryl isn't surprised to see the usual peacemakers in the thick of it all. Dale's near the porch, earnestly debating with Hershel, probably thinking their similar ages might give them some common ground. Further out, Glenn and Lori are debating with the others, while T-Dog leans against the Cherokee looking worse off than Merle inside. Sophia and Carol are with T-Dog, staying clear of the main debates, although Carol seems to be looking after T-Dog more than the other way around.
His reappearance draws attention, which he should have expected, but it's Hershel who speaks first. He turns toward Daryl and makes an aborted move that Daryl suspects was to touch his shoulder. Why he restrains himself when Beth didn't, Daryl doesn't know. Age and experience about strangers perhaps.
"May God forgive me, but you look just like your mama, Daryl," he says softly, and the pure regret and sorrow in his voice is the first thing that makes Daryl actually believe Beth's claim. A man doesn't sound like that about a family resemblance unless he actually loved the person in question.
"Don't know that you need forgiveness because I look like her."
Daryl shifts uncomfortably, gaze going back to Sophia and remembering that faith she had in him teaching her to look after herself. He could probably negotiate her and Carol to stay without the others, but he knows what happened in Atlanta wasn't just Rick's fault. If Rick leads these people back out there, without Daryl, maybe without T-Dog, too, because the man's too sick to leave... The odds they'll survive to reach Fort Benning don't seem high to Daryl at all.
His attention on Sophia doesn't go unnoticed by Hershel. "She your girl?"
The assumption startles Daryl, and he shakes his head. He can't imagine Sophia would see him as much of an improvement over Ed, other than he'd sooner cut his own throat than hurt a kid. "Not mine. Just used to be stuck with a daddy like I had."
Hershel does know Will Dixon, Daryl understands, because that angry twist to his mouth? That's carefully controlled rage, the kind Will Dixon always inspires. Daryl knows it well, handling his own temper as best he could all these years.
"They go, I go with them," Daryl tells him, surprising himself that he means it. He catches sight of Glenn's thoughtful expression and remembers how scared Glenn looked up on that roof in the hands of the Vatos. Carl's with his mama, Lori's hands firmly on the boy's thin shoulders. Most won't admit it, but they all need him if they go back out there, but especially the kids. "Any of the kids go, I go."
If he's really family, if Hershel regrets whatever led to Daryl not having a clue what's going on, then Daryl's ultimatum will mean something. Merle would have to stay here until he's better, but his brother's been keeping his asshole self alive for more years than Daryl's been alive. He'll manage now without Daryl if he has to and then turn up like a bad penny the moment Daryl least expects him to.
Although his eyes narrow when he scans the adults, Hershel jerks his head in something close to a nod. "Alright, son. If you say they stay, they stay. But I want all their guns put away. No sense in giving idiots temptation on their hips."
Daryl isn't sure the two cops will agree, but if they don't, they can head out at first light. He's done his best to give them some breathing room, at least long enough for T-Dog to heal up. It's time to come up with a better plan than scrounging gas and supplies and hope that Fort Benning pans out.
"We would need to keep one gun on watch, if we might," Dale ventures, worrying at that weird hat of his with both hands. "I'll set up a rotation that doesn't include Rick."
There's a brief indignant sound that makes Daryl look over just in time to see Lori digging her nails into Rick's arm. It keeps Shane's attention on the two of them rather than Hershel's demand, so when Hershel and Dale shake hands on the agreement, it's done.
As much as Daryl expects to be swarmed with questions, it seems no one really wants answers about Merle, not right away. They manage a meal in relative peace, cans scavenged from the traffic jam and supplemented by a basket of vegetables sent over with Otis. Daryl accepts the plate Carol offers him while taking first watch atop the RV, figuring he'll get his shift out of the way before Merle wakes, if he does this evening. Split between the four able-bodied men, it's an easy enough task.
Half an hour before Daryl's due to switch out with Glenn, Beth appears on the front porch, waving her hand. She doesn't cross the dark space between house and camp, but Daryl gets the idea he's being summoned easily enough. Glenn does, too, climbing up before Daryl can stand up properly. He gives Daryl a sheepish grin as they exchange Dale's rifle. The others are in the process of shuffling off to bed, but he can feel the pauses they make to stare as he heads for the girl waiting impatiently for him.
This time, Merle isn't alone in the room. A blonde woman is applying salve, speaking so softly that Daryl can't make out her words. To Daryl's shock, whatever question she asked is answered with a quiet 'yes ma'am'. He can't remember the last time he heard any sort of nicety out of Merle.
"Merle?"
As soon as Daryl speaks, Merle jerks his head in the direction of the doorway, and to Daryl's shock, Merle smiles. Not the shit eating grin he usually favors or even that grim smile that never reaches his eyes, but an honestly happy smile at seeing Daryl. Swallowing hard, Daryl steps into the room, making it as far as the end of the bed.
"Shoulda brought us straight here, baby brother." Merle's voice is as gravelly as ever, but the anger underlying everything seems to be extinguished, at least for now. If Beth hadn't mentioned Merle avoiding opiods, he would think Merle was high as hell on painkillers. "Might've been more help here."
The woman pats Merle on the part of his chest that isn't sunburned. "You shush that right now, Merle. You and Daryl being here wouldn't have changed Annette getting sick."
"Might've changed Shawn getting bit, Patricia."
"Or maybe one of you got bitten instead," Beth says, breezing past Daryl to perch on the bed beside Merle on the side Patricia's not working on.
Patricia nods, finishing up treating Merle's skin and capping the jar of salve. "Beth's right. Fretting over what could have been different won't solve what needs to happen now. That's you getting better, so you can keep all those fever promises you made to your daughter."
"Daughter?" Daryl isn't sure how he manages the word, because it's certainly not one he's ever considered in relation to Merle.
"He doesn't know?" Beth asks as Patricia flushes and apologizes to Merle.
"No, darlin', I never told Daryl at all." Merle looks his age suddenly, drawn and exhausted in a way the illness and injury hadn't even managed. "He never would have agreed on giving you away, not even to family."
Understanding dawns completely on Daryl now, especially when he stares at Beth. She's got their eyes, vividly sky blue and distinctive, but that mane of blonde hair flickers old memories fogged by time and grief. It could be explained by the cousin link, and without being told, Daryl would never have questioned just how much she looks like his late mama. Plus she calls the old man her daddy, layered with all the affection Daryl never felt for his own.
"Jesus Christ. Beth." Even the name. She's got his mama's name, he thinks. "Your given name is Lisbet, ain't it? Not Elizabeth or Bethany, but Lisbet."
She nods, glancing uneasily between him and Merle. To Daryl's further shock, Merle reaches over to snag the girl's hand, even as he meets Daryl's gaze steadily. Merle's expression is such an odd combination of emotions that it takes Daryl a moment to realize his brother is ashamed. Of what, Daryl isn't sure, but his brain feels like it is overloading.
"This is why I couldn't find you after that roof. You came here, to your family I didn't even fucking know about!"
Daryl can't breathe, can't stand being in the same room as Merle. Stumbling back from the bed, he counts on Merle being bedridden and the ladies being too shocked to follow...
And does what he's always done best when he's terrified and rejected and alone.
He runs.