Witch Way to Life or Death

Chapter 17: The Change and Changed

Back Outside

Merle watched his little brother follow Cordelia into the fancy RV before looking at his nieces. Part of him wanted to walk away and dive into the stash he hid at the bottom of his bag. Fucking Daryl never knew how to let loose. But as he watched them walking off he couldn't help remembering his bastard father sitting in his chair, drunk and high off his ass. At least he had a reason. He'd seen shit no one ever should overseas. He was one of three that had even made it back and his old pal hadn't lasted long once back stateside; Perry Myles killed himself 3 months in. Kid was only 23 but he'd done his damn best to keep him alive only to end it all once back home. Damn kid couldn't live with what they'd seen, what they had to do to survive, couldn't get the smell of the searing flesh and blood spilt out his mind, the sight of their brothers in arms dead or dying around them as they tried to survive. Brothers missing limbs and bleeding out as bullets kept flying as they tried to get past that damn mine field to the safe zone. He'd never regret the punching Srgt. Williamson even with it being what got him discharged. The anger, pain, and memories was the reason he used. To forget, to not feel, for the mind numbing nothingness that took over.

He knew he was a fucking asshole when he used. Knew the user in him was the reason Daryl never got a real shot. He'd joined up because he knew he'd kill their father if he didn't but he'd also done it for Daryl. Daryl was a smart kid. He knew shit. Daryl could've done whatever he wanted with enough money and being in the army they would've paid for it too since he'd filled the papers for guardianship over him. All that was gone when he'd been discharged and that was his only regret about that. Now though he had a new one. He was the reason his brother never knew he had kids. Twin girls, daughters. All Merle could think of was the sick bastards he used to go to for his next fix. How he kept his mouth shut even while he watched their eyes followed girls that were barely in high school if they even were. The only thing that stopped him was them having what he craved and knowing they were chicken shit about it and wouldn't do a damn thing but watch. He couldn't take that next hit. He couldn't be to them what their father was to them. He had to get his shit together and now. Apparently all it took to get Merle Dixon to clean up his act was the end of the world and family.

"You follow me" Merle turned to see the short haired woman watching him with narrowed eyes, her hand on her waist, just above her gun holster.

"And why would I do that suga-." He cut off when he felt the cool metal of the blade she'd had hidden in her other hand. How the hell I ain't notice that. 

"Shut. Up. You'll do what I say because I don't trust you and if I don't trust you that means you're on my list. The higher you are on it, the worse and right now I'm thinking you belong at the top." Carol gave a look to Dean before he sighed and just nodded. She led Merle to the smallest of their family's RVs.

"Sit."

"I ain't no dog." Merle didn't get it. This woman in front of him was something else. She had the look of one of them housewives that stayed home raising the kids getting her man a beer from the fridge as soon as he walked in from work and sat down. She reminded him a bit of his mother. The perfect dutiful wife, that got the shit beat out of her if she was just a little too slow with that beer and all that followed. It wouldn't be noticeable to most people but in that T-shirt Merle could see the beginnings of a jagged scar near her collar bone that appeared crudely made from the little he could see along with a puckered circular scar that reminded him of his own. Memories of his father pressing his cig into his skin flashing across his mind. Only he realized her eyes were sharp, calculating, and held little fear as though she was ready to end him right there if he made the wrong move. No, she wasn't like his mother. This woman in front of him hadn't given up. She took her pain and became stronger. She was a survivor.

"Could've fooled me." The sass was only more proof and brought a tilt to his lip.

"Like throwing people off guard makes it easy to see who they really are." Her brow raised.

"Ever heard you get more bees with honey."

"That knife on my neck sure ain't seem like no honey, honey." He quipped, a smile coming on his face realizing she may just be able to match his snark.

"I knew the moment your mouth opened it wouldn't work on you."

"Mouth don't open for nothing but food, snark, insults, and eating a pretty thing like you for dessert." Carol scoffed, but just the hint of a smile was forming on her face.

"You couldn't handle me with instructions." She leaned forward towards him. "Now tell me, am I going to have to put a knife through your brain?"