Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Love The Way You Lie

"I'll take it from here," Merle said, his usual swagger back in full force as he sauntered into the room.

Lifting my chin from my chest I watched him as he glared at my young and extremely nervous guard. Why I needed an armed guard when I was zip tied to the dental chair, beaten and bleeding all over the place was anyone's guess. I wasn't a threat to the fly that kept buzzing my face like a fighter pilot in Top Gun much less anyone who could stand without assistance.

"Uh, I, um..." the young man stuttered. Merle's order was in direct conflict with Luke's which was, 'I don't care if a herd of biters strolls in and wants to slow dance with you. You don't leave this room.'

Merle's demeanor unsettled the already jittery kid, and he was a kid. He was tall and too skinny, all gangly limbs and knock-knees, but his face held a healthy portion of baby fat his transition into manhood had yet to shed. He'd been nothing but a bundle of nerves since the moment he walked into the room. He couldn't look me in the eye, opting to look over my shoulder or random points above my head. I unsettled him, that much was obvious, but he was reluctant to take his eyes off me all the same. Quite the conundrum for the young lad. If talking didn't take so much effort I would have told him he didn't have anything to worry about. The only thing I was capable of at the moment without fail was fading in and out of consciousness.

Merle raised his eyebrows at him and I stifled a laugh as the kid literally shook in his boots. I bet if either of us yelled 'boo' he would have a nervous breakdown right here. This was his first big boy assignment. I knew it. Merle knew it and he was taking full advantage. For about a millisecond the kid stood his ground, his body tucked into a corner as he trembled, eyes wide and locked on the redneck stalking towards him with a sinister smile on his face. It was so over-the-top it was comical. All it took for the kid to decide he would rather face a Defender than a one-handed hillbilly was a little shake of his stub. The kid moved so fast it was like he teleported out of the room, his feet touching the ground only twice in his haste.

Merle chuckled briefly, grabbing a chair and placing it directly in front of me. He sat down slowly, all humor extinguished the second the door slammed closed, his face serious. He saw me in a different light after my bombshell in the ring, but he wasn't entirely sold. His eyes swept all over my face, searching, but for what I didn't know. Even if I was married to his brother I wouldn't have tattooed Mrs. Dixon on my forehead.

"Who are ya?"

"I already told you."

He growled in annoyance. "Don't play games with me Firecracker. I ain't in tha mood."

"Well that would be a first," I joked.

"We ain't got time for this." Not true. I had all the time in the world. At least until someone came back and finished me off, but evidently he was on some kind of a schedule. "Said yur name's Dixon." I nodded at him. "That yur real name?" Was that hope I heard in his voice?

Here's the thing about Dixon's; there was no grey area when it came to loyalty. It was black and white with them. You were either one of them or an outsider, plain and simple. I may not have Dixon blood running through my veins, but marriage was an instant initiation into their closely guarded ranks. It was like becoming royal only without the fancy hats, important titles and finger waves. Instead you got squirrel innards as a wedding gift and in-laws that shot at you.

Everything was ridding on this. If Merle believed I was indeed married to his brother he would feel obligated to help me, his uncompromising loyalty to his sibling extending to me by virtue of our union. On the other hand, he might not believe me and kill me himself because I pissed him off. Not exactly a win-win scenario, but The Governor would be the death of me one way or another so like it or not my best chance was the unpredictable man sitting across from me. Blood made you related, but loyalty was what made you family.