Mercy

Mercy had always thought walker bites hurt more; that she’d feel some kind of pain when their teeth ripped into her flesh. But instead, all she felt was shock that it had happened. All three of them stood still for a moment, eyes fixated on the bite wound on her arm. It was still bleeding and in the moonlight, she could see a little bit of bone sticking out from underneath the layers of torn muscle.

“We’ve gotta go ‘fore Ian finds us,” Daryl was the first one to speak as he grabbed Mercy’s free hand, his eyes moving to hers as he pulled her closer to him. Merle scoffed, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“She ain’t comin’ with us, baby brother. Not now.”

“Yes, she is,” Daryl hissed. “She’s family, Merle, and I ain’t gonna just leave her now. We’ll figure this out. She’ll get through it. We just gotta find a place to collect our thoughts and—”

Mercy didn’t listen to the rest of Daryl’s sentence, because she knew that none of what he was saying would make sense. He was still in shock and the idea of her becoming a walker hadn’t hit him quite yet. It hadn’t sunk in for her, either, but she was a little more realistic about this situation than he was at the moment.

Everyone knew what happened to people who got bit by walkers. They turned. There was no cure and there was no way to stop the spread of the virus once it was introduced through a bite wound. She would die physically and then somehow, she’d come back as one of them.

She knew it, and Merle knew it. And soon enough, Daryl would know it too.

She listened to the Dixon brothers argue for a few more minutes before Merle begrudgingly agreed to let Mercy come with them. It was clear that he didn’t want her there, and she couldn’t really say she blamed him. She wouldn’t want a future walker in her group, either, if she was him.

The three of them didn’t stop walking until they came across another road. This one was different than the one by the house. It was paved, with yellow lines down the middle of it. At one point, it had probably been a main thoroughfare in this area, Mercy thought to herself as they walked along the asphalt while the sun slowly rose in the sky.

The tension was high between all of them as she walked with Daryl, one of his arms securely wrapped around her shoulder. He was hell bent on making sure that nothing happened to her, and his eyes were carefully watching Merle for any show of violence against her. She had never realized Daryl would turn on his brother for her.

Then again, Merle had never truly been there for Daryl, she thought to herself. So she shouldn’t be too surprised that their bond wasn’t all that brotherly.

Finally they stopped outside of an old house. It was in much better shape than the walker house had been, with exterior walls that seemed to have been painted not long before the zombie infestation. The grass in the front was overgrown and the windows were dirty, but other than that, it appeared to be a decent place for them to stay.

“We should send her in to scout it out since she’s already one of ‘em,” Merle muttered under his breath, glaring angrily at Mercy. She flinched under his gaze, not feeling comfortable at all.

Daryl narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll check it,” he told his brother before he released Mercy’s hand with a small, cautious smile. “Stay here, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She nodded, though she had to admit that she was nervous about being left alone with Merle. Would he do something drastic while his brother was inside, unable to protect or defend her? She knew she wasn’t strong enough to overpower someone like Merle and even if she was, she had no weapon on her that she could use quickly.

If he wanted to kill her, she’d definitely not be able to stop him.

They both watched as Daryl walked into the house before silence overtook them both. Merle didn’t say a word and neither did Mercy; she didn’t know what the correct words to say were. She knew that her presence wasn’t welcomed by him.

“You know what’s gonna happen, right?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his sudden words as she turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at her like she had expected; rather, his eyes were focused on the door of the house that Daryl had walked through.

She nodded anyway.

“Yes, I know.”

Another short silence filled the space between them before he spoke again. This time he did turn to face her, his eyes narrowed and his arms folded across his chest.

“My baby brother ain’t never cared for nobody like he does you,” he told her, his voice quiet. “And when it happens, he ain’t never gonna be the same. Don’t make him suffer any longer than he has to, Mercy. End yourself quickly and spare him the pain.”

He didn’t give any other elaboration on his words as he took a gun from his pocket, handing it to her. It was a smaller gun, but she knew what the meaning behind it was and she swallowed hard, unable to even fathom committing suicide. It had never before been a thought in her mind.

She tucked the gun into the backpack she was carrying, knowing that at some point in the next few days, she may actually want it. She swallowed hard and waited for Daryl to come back. When he did, he looked somewhat relieved.

“There ain’t no walkers in there, and there’s food,” he told the two of them before he walked over to Mercy, touching the side of her face. “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded and then let him lead her into the house, Merle walking behind her. The weight of the gun seemed to become heavier with each step she took into the house. Daryl told them where the bedrooms were and then made his way to the kitchen, most likely to raid for some food for breakfast.

Mercy followed Daryl into the kitchen, her footsteps slow and deliberate as she stood next to him by the counter. His eyes lifted to hers, a look of sorrow in them. She couldn’t help but feel guilty. She knew that this was going to be harder on him than it would be for her. After all, this would be her second time leaving him.

And this time, she wouldn’t have a chance to come back and make things right.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she touched the side of his face, leaning in for a hug. Daryl held her tightly, the first true sign of affection he’d given her in a long time. His face was buried in her neck and she could feel a few small tears making their way out of his eyes.

“I ain’t leavin’ you, Mercy,” he whispered to her, his voice shaky. “I’m gonna stand by you ‘til the end, you hear me?”

She nodded, even though that wasn’t she wanted. She didn’t want him to see her turn into a walker. It would kill him on the inside and she knew that. He needed to keep living for himself; he needed to get through this.

He couldn’t do that if he had to watch her die like that.

“I know, Daryl,” was all she could bring herself to say, however, as he held her. It was so damn hard seeing him like this. She had never seen him so vulnerable before an d it tore her apart. Mercy felt her heart breaking for the boy she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

“Certain things, they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone,” she whispered sadly as she touched his cheek when he finally sat up.

Daryl arched his eyebrow at her, confusion written across his features.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s from The Catcher In The Rye,” she murmured, pulling the backpack off of her shoulder and then pulling the book out. She smiled down at the old cover and then handed it to him. It had been Daryl’s book his whole life and now, she’d gotten all she could from it.

“Mercy, this ain’t exactly the time to be reciting literature,” Daryl mumbled to her, a sad smile on his own face as he took the book from her. She shook her head.

“You don’t even know what I was trying to say with it,” she told him quietly. “Maybe…” She licked over her bottom lip as she let her eyes meet his. “Maybe we should have left our childhood under one of those figurative glass cases, Daryl. Maybe we never should have—”

“No,” Daryl shook his head as he hugged her tightly to himself, his voice breaking again as he threw the book down onto the counter. “Dammit, Mercy, you ain’t Holden Caulfield and this ain’t some sad book. You’re gonna make it. I’m gonna make you make it through this ‘cause I can’t…I can’t lose you again, Mercy. You understand me?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and then nodded, her eyes sad again as she rested her head on his chest. She knew now that he wouldn’t be able to accept this. And that was why she knew that she had to leave. Even if it hurt to do so, leaving would be the only way to spare Daryl the pain his heart couldn’t take.