Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Old Friends

"It's not that I don't like Noah. He's great. They're just so young. Do they really need to get married now?"

I bit my lip, selecting my words carefully. I'd promised Beth I'd speak to her sister about her desire to marry Noah, but getting in the middle of Greene family drama was something I'd like to avoid, especially when one party was a witch doctor.

"She's your sister, but she's not a little girl. She's an adult. They both are, and they aren't asking for your permission." Maggie's shoulders stiffened slightly at the implication. "I think you're going to regret it if you don't give them your blessing.

She crossed her arms, lips pressed together in a thin line as she thought it over. I wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know, but sometimes you needed to hear it from someone else for it to really make sense.

She only wanted what was best for her sister, and sometimes, despite how the world had changed, it was difficult to let go of the past. A few years ago two almost 20-year olds getting married would have made anyone nervous, but things were different now. Living to the ripe old age of 20 was an achievement not many were likely to see. Denying yourself something you loved, something you wanted, simply based on birth-dates was too trivial to abide.

"You're right," she admitted, "I'm just trying to protect her."

I nodded, "Noah's a good man. He'll take care of her. She'll always be your little sister Mag's."

"After what happened yesterday I'm surprised you're going to bat for him."

Ouch. That stung a little. Did I really come off as that shallow?

However, to be fair, I'd consider putting off my chat for a few days just to make him sweat, but ultimately I did the right thing. That had to count for something.

"You really think I'd sacrifice Beth's happiness because the kid said some stuff I already know?"

"Don't deflect and don't down play what happened," she countered, "He was wrong, and he needs to fix it."

"Get yur shit outta my way!" Daryl barked.

Noah scrambled to pick up the pieces of weapons that were laid out on the porch for cleaning. My husband stood there watching and waiting, an angry scowl on his face. If looks could kill Daryl would be a weapon of mass destruction. His current mood could be summed up in one word, menacing.

"Boy, ya move slower than cream risin' on buttermilk!" Merle shouted, making Noah fumble and subsequently drop what was in his arms.

The brothers could easily step around, or even over, the plethora of weapons on the porch. Instead, they glared at Noah while he muttered apologies and scrambled to clear a path. Even from the street I could see he was sweating and shaking, making the task of getting off their radar almost impossible.

"Yeah, he's paying for that in spades, and then some," I mumbled.

It was like watching a car accident in slow motion. If the car accident involved two rednecks with a grudge they'd likely take the grave, and a boy-man with no chance of surviving.

"If ya don't hurry the fuck up I'm gonna tear yur arms off, and beat ya to death with the bloody stumps!"

Daryl's latest threat made us both wince, Beth's soon-to-be husband tripping and falling over his own feet. Yeah, Noah was getting a thorough introduction into what happened if you got on the wrong side of a Dixon. There was no need for me to punish him. He'd be lucky to survive Captain Hook and Legolas.

"I almost feel sorry for him," Maggie said.

Merle finally lost what little patience he possessed, shoving kid out of his way and stalking down the stairs.