Chapter Text
Merle watched his brother very carefully when they entered the prison; these people had changed him. They had a fine set-up in here— it was a shame that The Governor would be here soon to take it all away— but these motherfucking people had gotten to his brother’s head. Merle didn’t like it one bit. Didn’t trust them. Daryl was safest with him. These people acted like they cared, sure— all of them swarming in to welcome Daryl back with relief on their faces— but it wasn’t him they were happy to have. His brother was a skilled hunter, that was all. He probably kept them alive better than that goody-goody cop. Merle completely saw this fake touching reunion coming.
The baby, though. That was something he couldn’t have imagined in a million years. Not that someone had knocked someone else up, no. Whatever. People were a lot more willing when the end of the world came around.
He just didn’t expect for the little blond girl to walk over and hand it to Daryl. Merle stood there in awe when he saw his brother smile— warm and proud like a father, and he could have sworn he felt his stomach drop. But then his brother asked the kid, Carl?, if he had been looking after his sister while he was gone— and whatever that sensation was? It passed. Still, the sight dumbfounded him. The cop came up and he snorted at the three of them as they stood there with the kid— he didn’t get it. A squawking baby was the last thing anybody needed.
Merle went to investigate their food situation with bothersome thoughts on why Daryl had rushed to the bridge to help those people with the infant. Something about this whole thing didn’t feel right. Didn’t settle. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. He was missing something. Something right in his face but he couldn’t see it. It angered him. All of this shit angered him. He’d have to have a talk with Daryl later.
*
Dinner was tense, to put it lightly. Nobody seemed happy to have Merle in the prison. The Asian and his girlfriend glared an arsenal into him whenever he spoke. The old man had asked about Woodbury, about what they were in for— and he had told them straight. They would all be dead if they sat on their asses here. While they argued, Daryl fed the baby— before eating himself, Merle noted. He’d sat across from Merle, but next to the cop, bouncing the babe while he joined in on the conversation on what they should do.
The first thing they all agreed on was that Merle’s cell would be locked at night, despite his complaining and promises that he wasn’t about to hurt anyone. He would have loved to bring up the fact that he was missing his hand because of someone present but Daryl’s eyes were screaming louder than the rest of them. He didn’t have to follow Daryl but he did. He couldn’t not. And so he’d have to deal with these bitches and their rules. Daryl had convinced them all to let him in, he wasn’t gonna undo that. Not when he knew what was outside and on the way. He decided, instead, to make a comment on how it wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept in a locked cell. After that he fell mostly silent, keeping an eye on his brother and squinting whenever he saw him speak with Rick. Nobody else here had grown up with him, so they probably couldn’t notice how his voice or posture would change. It nagged at him. Whatever it was it nagged and he wanted nothing more than to pull his brother aside and ask him what this funny business was all about. He’d have to wait until he could get his brother to himself— should be easy, right?
No. His chance didn’t come, because after dinner he was stuffed in his new cage and his brother went off to do fuck-knows-what with the others. Flopping on his bunk he decided he’d wait until his little bother came back around and then they would have their man-to-man. But with food in his belly and a roof over his head again sleep tempted him and won.
*
The sound of a baby crying woke him up and for just a split second he was a kid back home wishing Daryl would shut up before their father started hollerin’. With their mother suffering from Postpartum Depression and crying all the time refusing to leave bed he would have to be the one to get up and try making formula and hum his brother to sleep. But when his feet hit the floor he was a grown man in a prison during the end of the world—
And somebody was already humming.
Merle froze where he stood and listened— listened to his brother hum what was undoubtedly Kansas in the middle of the night to a baby that wasn’t his. Unless he had knocked Rick’s wife up— which would have been hilarious to behold. In the silence he wanted to call out and grab Daryl’s attention— but then there was whispering that he was busy straining to hear.
“She missed you.” It was the sheriff, of course. Merle stood and moved just a little closer to the door , sure to be as quiet as possible as he leaned to get a better listen. “I missed you.” Merle rolled his eyes at that, despite how sincere and tired it sounded. What a load of shit.
“I know…” His brother sounded guilty. Fffft. “Missed ya’ll too. M’sorry I left, Rick. Y’… y’know that, right? S’just— Merle.” Merle perked up a little at the sound of his name— this was it. This was where his brother was going to tell his fake buddy Rick that blood is blood and the Dixons were gonna stick together no matter what. The only reason he sounded troubled was because none of these blockheads would get it.
“I know. Daryl, I know—” This fucking liar. “I shouldn’t have made you choose.”
“Yer damn right you shouldn’ta.” His brother’s voice had raised just a bit, but it quieted down again as he continued. “Makin’ me choose ‘tween you and my brother. Puttin’ me onna spot like that. That’s mybrother. You’re my…” Merle’s brows raised as Daryl’s voice strained and trailed off and he was leaning so far over that he’d probably lose balance if he wasn’t careful. “My…” Rick made a shushing noise that made Merle want to slap him. That was his brother not some woman having a tantrum.
“I know. You don’t gotta label—”
“Fuckin’ love you.” What?
“I know.” What?
“Merle started goin’ on ‘bout how th’Governor’d prolly killed ya’ll already. I fucked up. I shouldn’ta left.” There was movement and Merle heard it. There was no doubt. That was the sound of a kiss. Of lips meeting in secret in the night. “M’sorry.” Another one, and Merle stepped back— away from the sound with a quick jerk of his head. He moved back to the bunk and tried his damnedest not to hear Rick tell his brother to stop apologizing while he kept kissing him. Tried not to listen as they settled in the bunk together and whispered lovingly to each other. He failed.
His talk with Daryl in the morning was going to be very different from what he had originally planned.