Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

28: Hot-Headed Dixons

"M-Merle?" I repeated, my voice full of shock as I raised an eyebrow at Michonne.

She cocked an eyebrow at me in return, her eyes narrowing. "Do you know him?"

"I know a Merle... uh, weird question; does this guy only have one hand?"

She silently nodded her head.

My heart rate increased considerably at the realization that my Uncle Merle was alive. I didn't know how to feel; of course I was relieved he was okay, but why would he kidnap Glenn and Maggie? While a part of me was left wondering the reason why, another part of me wasn't too surprised with Uncle Merle's actions. After tolerating him all my life, nothing he did really surprised me anymore.

"Who the hell are you?!"

I snapped my head towards the voice, and wasn't surprised to find my dad standing at the doorway to the cell, crossbow raised. Michonne immediately reached back for her weapon in a frenzy, but Hershel and I stepped in front of her, me placing a hand on her shoulder to keep her back.

"It's okay, Dad. She was outside the fence, she'd been shot. She had baby formula with her," I explained.

"Glenn and Maggie were taken; once we fix her up, she's going to show us where they are," Hershel added, his voice calm.

Dad didn't lower his weapon. "Who let her in here?"

"I did," I said, furrowing my eyebrows at Dad.

His eyes darted down to look at me, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was angry. "Carl, watch her, make sure she don't try nothin'," he instructed to Carl beside him. "Sid, get over here."

I didn't really see a problem with what I did, but I obeyed Dad's orders anyway. I followed him out of the hallway, and he walked to the opposite side of the stairwell before he spun around, obviously enraged.

"Why the hell'd you bring someone in?! You don't know nothin' about her!" he whisper-yelled, talking with his hands.

"She knew what happened to Glenn and Maggie, she had baby formula, Dad! What was I supposed to do?"

"Ya shoulda waited for someone else, someone who coulda decided for themselves what ta do with her," he snarled, his Southern drawl exaggerated in anger.

"I'm just as capable of making decisions as anyone else here. It was my call to make!"

"Nah. You don't get to make calls, Sidney. Ya don't."

"Why the hell not?!" I exclaimed, getting angry myself. Dad and I were both hot-headed as anything, so when we argued, both of us got fired up extremely quick.

"Ya better watch yer tone, girl," he said, shaking his head.

"Give me one damn reason why I can't make calls," I said, ignoring his warning.

He gave me a menacing glare, narrowing his eyes into slits. In an utterly sassy and disrespectful fashion, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned on one leg, turning my head to the side as I looked at him. I raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for him to speak.