Walking Dead Ficlet: "Nice"
Fic 3 of 5 for the latest tv_universe challenge, "Who Said What Now?" The challenge is to incorporate a quote from one TV show into a story for another TV show (and that quote must be in bold text.)
Title: Nice
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Daryl, Merle
Prompt: "I'm not good at nice." (Aeryn Sun, Farscape)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 512
Summary: There is goodness in Merle, and Daryl doesn't believe that it's buried so deep that it can't be found again.
Notes: Gapfiller for Episode 310: Home
Nice
by Severina
Daryl doesn't try for stealth. He crashes through the undergrowth like there's a demon on his tail - and maybe there is, 'cause he doesn't get far before he hears Merle following after him through the brush. He doesn't look back, doesn’t look up unless it's to check the position of the sun to make sure he's not wandering off in the wrong direction. The heat bakes into the top of his head and he tells himself that it's the sun that is making him dizzy. But he doesn't falter, lets his anger fuel him, and he figures he makes about three miles before he's forced to stop at a little creek meandering through the trees. He bends to scoop some water into his hands, splashes his face and closes his eyes.
"They're not gonna take me in," Merle calls out.
Daryl comes to his feet slowly, wishes his hand didn't move instinctively toward the bow hitched on his back. This is his brother, his flesh and blood, but… Merle's changed. Or maybe he's changed. He just doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that his brother wanted to leave a woman and a baby defenseless on the side of the road, and though Daryl know that he himself wasn't no saint in the times before, he's damn sure he never would've sunk that low. Never would have gone through with the plan to rob the camp, neither.
At least he hopes not.
He sighs, brushes at the water dripping from his face with the back of his hand, and turns to his brother. "They will," he says, even though he doesn't truly believe it, not really. He's pretty sure he can bring Rick around, but Glenn? That's a tall damn order. "All you gotta do is try to be nice."
"Look at me, little brother," Merle says, spreading his arms. The smile that curls his lips is bitter. "I'm not good at nice."
Daryl opens his mouth, not sure what he's going to say, then closes it again. Something about the way Merle is standing brings back a memory, and after a second it comes to him. The day that he finally graduated to Merle's two-wheeler. It was Merle who ran along after him, patiently holding on to the seat of the bike and steadying him until he got the hang of it. And he remembers looking over his shoulder when he finally managed to ride the thing on his own, and seeing Merle standing there with his hands spread wide and a proud smile on his face.
There is goodness in Merle, and Daryl doesn't believe that it's buried so deep that it can't be found again.
"Try," he says simply before hitching his bow further up onto his shoulder.
Daryl turns and splashes across the stream. And when he hears Merle follow a moment or two later, he squares his shoulders. He can talk to Glenn, convince him to give Merle another chance. It will work. They're both his family, so it has to work. He has no other options.
.
Title: Nice
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Daryl, Merle
Prompt: "I'm not good at nice." (Aeryn Sun, Farscape)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 512
Summary: There is goodness in Merle, and Daryl doesn't believe that it's buried so deep that it can't be found again.
Notes: Gapfiller for Episode 310: Home
Nice
by Severina
Daryl doesn't try for stealth. He crashes through the undergrowth like there's a demon on his tail - and maybe there is, 'cause he doesn't get far before he hears Merle following after him through the brush. He doesn't look back, doesn’t look up unless it's to check the position of the sun to make sure he's not wandering off in the wrong direction. The heat bakes into the top of his head and he tells himself that it's the sun that is making him dizzy. But he doesn't falter, lets his anger fuel him, and he figures he makes about three miles before he's forced to stop at a little creek meandering through the trees. He bends to scoop some water into his hands, splashes his face and closes his eyes.
"They're not gonna take me in," Merle calls out.
Daryl comes to his feet slowly, wishes his hand didn't move instinctively toward the bow hitched on his back. This is his brother, his flesh and blood, but… Merle's changed. Or maybe he's changed. He just doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that his brother wanted to leave a woman and a baby defenseless on the side of the road, and though Daryl know that he himself wasn't no saint in the times before, he's damn sure he never would've sunk that low. Never would have gone through with the plan to rob the camp, neither.
At least he hopes not.
He sighs, brushes at the water dripping from his face with the back of his hand, and turns to his brother. "They will," he says, even though he doesn't truly believe it, not really. He's pretty sure he can bring Rick around, but Glenn? That's a tall damn order. "All you gotta do is try to be nice."
"Look at me, little brother," Merle says, spreading his arms. The smile that curls his lips is bitter. "I'm not good at nice."
Daryl opens his mouth, not sure what he's going to say, then closes it again. Something about the way Merle is standing brings back a memory, and after a second it comes to him. The day that he finally graduated to Merle's two-wheeler. It was Merle who ran along after him, patiently holding on to the seat of the bike and steadying him until he got the hang of it. And he remembers looking over his shoulder when he finally managed to ride the thing on his own, and seeing Merle standing there with his hands spread wide and a proud smile on his face.
There is goodness in Merle, and Daryl doesn't believe that it's buried so deep that it can't be found again.
"Try," he says simply before hitching his bow further up onto his shoulder.
Daryl turns and splashes across the stream. And when he hears Merle follow a moment or two later, he squares his shoulders. He can talk to Glenn, convince him to give Merle another chance. It will work. They're both his family, so it has to work. He has no other options.
.