Work Text:
It’s an interview. He’s never had a real interview before, and to be honest this is starting to feel a hell of a lot like being inspected, probed, almost like he imagined child services would have been liked had they ever found him. Merle keeps his face as blank as he can, not wanting to show any kind of emotion if he can help it, not wanting to give the game away too early. This place is so neat, so calm and safe; it’s frankly quite frightening when compared to knowing what was out there on the road for them.
Thing is, no matter how much he tries to keep a straight face as he takes a seat in the overly comfortable chair in front of the camera, there’s one thing he can’t hide. Daryl. His daemon has been on edge ever since they approached the gates to Alexandria. Right now he’s pacing back and forth around the room, Merle can feel him examining each corner, mentally taking note of all the possible exits and which items could be used as weapons since theirs had been taken from him. He knew the lack of a crossbow was only making Daryl feel more on edge since he was defenceless.
It didn’t help that Deanna’s daemon is watching them closely. The bobcat doesn’t make a sound, not a hiss or growl in their direction, but Merle can see the way his eyes do not move an inch off of where Daryl is pacing back and forth. He sits on the desk, claws unsheathed but not digging in to the wood of the desk as Deanna smiles to him, ever so inviting and that’s possibly the most unsettling thing of all.
"So shall we begin?" She asks him, eyes bright, well fed, well rested and on top of her game. Merle doesn’t believe for a second that this isn’t more than an introduction, its their evidence should they need ammunition against them, he’s sure of it. "Please state your name for the camera."
"Merle Dixon." He grunts out, arms resting on the arms of the chair, fists unclenched, trying to look relaxed and not as if he feels completely out of place here. Daryl is doing that enough for the both of them, but now the camera is running Merle can feel his daemon’s anxiety begin to rise at the fear of the unknown. It makes his skin itch beneath the surface with a feeling he can’t scratch.
"And could you please state your daemon’s name and official settled form as well?" Deanna asks and her eyes move from Merle to Daryl with interest.
He doesn’t have to think as he edges forward in the chair, moving to perch on the edge because he’s fully aware of what’s coming next. Daryl doesn’t disappoint, and within seconds there is no more pacing, and instead his daemon is climbing into the chair behind him. It’s not comfortable, there’s really not enough room for him at all, but Daryl makes himself fit as he always does.
They hate being called into question and though Merle can understand people’s curiosity, it’s still something that makes Daryl curl his fingers into the hem of his shirt and press his forehead into Merle’s shoulder blade. His daemon is uncomfortable, afraid of the unknown and certainly not liking the attention being given to him. “Daryl.” Merle answers, leaning back a little, not to squash Daryl, but just to let him known that he is there. “He’s a human, and male too.”
"I have to admit, I’ve never heard of anyone having a human daemon before. I’ve seen daemons of the same sex before, but this is extremely rare." She continues and immediately the bobcat’s ears prick forward, it leans a few inches closer to them and Merle hates new people so much more than he did before.
"We know." He can’t help the frustration in his voice, but after a lifetime of being told the same thing, you lost the patience you once had for it. "But we ain’t nothing special. Just survivors. Like everybody else here I guess." He shrugs and he can feel Daryl press closer to his back a little.
This is not a world that they’re used to. Before in the woods had been hard but it had been well known to them, they could do survival easily enough. But this? Living in a community? With other people in clean-cut houses with rules and regulations and nowhere for a redneck like himself and his extremely strange daemon to fit in. He knows they’re not normal, but it’s in more ways than one unfortunately.
"You seem frustrated Merle and your daemon is clearly uneasy." Deanna tells him, her fingers laced and chin resting on them as she watches him. The bobcat murmurs in its throat, almost a purr, maybe a comment to its human, but it’s enough to get Daryl bristling behind him. "Do you want to be here?"
And that’s the question isn’t it? Does he want safety? Yes. Does he want his people, his family to be safe? Yes. Does he want to security of food and water? Yes. But does he want to be here? “The kid and the baby…” Because this wasn’t about just him anymore. It was about family and you were only as strong as your weakest link. Not that Carl was weak, but the baby? Judith was a fragile little thing, delicate with her baby daemon and crying at all hours in a world she didn’t understand. They needed this. “They deserve a roof.” They deserve some kind of stability that he and Daryl were never given in their childhood.
Deanna makes a sound of agreement in the back of her throat, her daemon flexes his claws and honestly Merle feels just about done. Hanging his head he can feel Daryl behind him, his daemon tense and no longer in the mood to be in anyone else’s company. It’s been a long time since he’s heard Daryl growl at anyone, but soon enough he’s snarling, a low noise from between grit teeth being forced out behind himself. Placing a hand behind himself he presses it to Daryl’s side, trying to calm him but aware that it’s his anxiety that Daryl is displaying.
"We’re done here." It’s not a question, it’s a statement and before Deanna has even nodded in agreement Merle is up, striding to the door with Daryl jumping to his feet behind him, growling still all the way.
When they’re in the air it’s easier to breathe, but the walls encroach upon his vision and it still feels like they’re in a cage and being watched the whole time. Daryl presses into his side, nudging his head beneath Merle’s chin with a small growl and Merle can feel the way he curls his fingers tighter into his shirt.
"We’ll make it work." Merle mutters to him, reaching up to rub at the hair behind Daryl’s ears to try and calm him down. "For them."
"For them." Daryl agrees, but stays no more than a step behind Merle the rest of the day.