Not much can physically upset him. There are a very few things that could get an emotion out of him other than anger. For example, he showed a soft spot for Carol, especially when it came to looking for her little girl. He would never ever admit it to himself but he cared for her and her daughter. He wanted to make her happy and fix whatever mistakes were made the night Rick lost her. He didn't blame the poor guy by no means - lord only knows he wouldn't be able to make half the decisions that man had made. Whenever something upset him he lashed out. He lashed out at Carol more than a few times, and boy the guilt sure was hard to handle but he managed. He knew she understood; Carol was the type to always understand.
He hadn't even considered the possibility that he would know any geek in that barn. They never thought that maybe they'll run across an old friend while surviving this apocalypse. The only time they ever checked the walker to make sure it wasn't somebody they knew was when they were out looking for Sophia. There was a great chance she had already turned and they all knew it, but Daryl didn't acknowledge the idea. That's just the way he worked. It made surviving easier, if only barely. He knew how much it hurt to lose somebody. Everybody knew that. Andrea lost her sister right in front of her own eyes! Everybody witnessed death and knew what it was like to lose someone. Daryl and Carol were different than the rest of them. They lost people but had no idea if they were dead, alive, or the dead coming back to life. Maybe that's why he searched to find the girl as hard as he did.
Everybody on that farm fell quiet. Some of their group thought that what Shane had did was the right thing to do and there were people who thought he had completely lost his mind, but he couldn't tell who stood on what side just yet. Obviously the folk who owned the farm thought he lost it, and then there was Andrea. The bitch was all over Shane and thought he walked on water or some shit. It annoyed Daryl, but he had no right to say anything. As outspoken as he was he had no business in their lives as long as they weren't affecting him. Surveying the situation at hand Daryl decided that Shane did the right thing in the wrong way. There had to have been easier ways to handle a barn full of walkers instead of screaming and breaking the door down the way he did. The man was almost mental.
The air grew more tense with each passing second and he was just about to say something when the familiar sound of someone walking caught their ears. Weapons were raised and everybody focused in on the impending threat. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't had a brief moment where he considered the possibility of Sophia stepping out of the barn or coming out of the trees. He hoped it was that easy. Whether they found her dead or alive at least they knew where she was and could stop looking. But it wasn't Sophia. The next sound - a loud, inhuman moan - told them that it was definitely a walker and they looked pointedly at the barn as they waited for the beast to show itself. After a few long moments, it did.
Daryl didn't recognize the walker at first. At least that's what he told himself. He didn't lower his gun but his hands started to shake as what was going on slipped away from him. He was staring into his brother's eyes, and for a brief moment they were the normal dark blue he was used to seeing. He gave him that lopsided smirk of his and Daryl almost found himself grinning back before a groan left his brother's mouth and he returned to what was really going on. His brother's eyes weren't staring at him - it was a monster. He had his faults and everybody knew it, but he wasn't a monster. He looked after Daryl and took part in raising him - albeit barely. He probably wouldn't be as tough as he was if it wasn't for him. But staring at his brother's defiled body like that took all the strength away from him and he finally lowered his weapon slightly.
"Merle…" he whispered. He felt his heart rate increase and his breathing was labored. After all those years growing up with the danger inside their home Merle had made sure he survived. He protected him at home from their father and, when need be, their mother before he finally got fed up and left home. Daryl barely noticed because he was hardly at home as it was - always getting locked up for something or another - but he was still there. Even when they found that Merle had escaped he was still there. His brother had made it away so what in the hell was he doing there at that farm?
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Shane bracing himself and he knew that the prick was about to pull the trigger. Instinctively, he turned and fixated the gun directly at Shane's head. "Daryl," Rick warned, pocketing his own weapon and taking a step towards the hunter, "don't do this. I know you're upset, but-"
"I want to do it myself," he said and tried to keep his voice as menacing as possible but not being able to prevent the crack from slipping out as he took in the entirety of the situation. His brother was dead and was going to try to kill him any second. They've had their fair share of fights. Hell, they were usually going at each other at least once a day whenever they were near one another. Killing his brother, though, was so much more different, but he told himself it wasn't his brother. Not anymore.
Daryl didn't take his eyes off of Shane but was still able to see Rick. He took in the way the man barely exhaled and gave a short nod. He knew that Rick probably was relieved that he wasn't going to go off the deep end and blame him for what happened. If the two hadn't gotten to know each other slightly, Daryl would have had the gun at his head instead of Shane's. He would've pulled the trigger and not cared if he died at that point. Rick is the one who had handcuffed his brother and was to blame for his death, but even Daryl knew how unfair thinking like that was. At first, yeah, he blamed Rick completely, but he also knew his brother. His brother was definitely a danger, and the cop had only done it to protect the rest of the group that he hadn't even belonged to at the time. He risked one guy's life to protect the group, and he could tell by the look in Rick's eyes whenever he looked at him that he felt guilty for what happened. Daryl didn't have it in him to blame the leader of his group. He worked on instinct in situations where there was no time to think, and he probably made the right decision to handcuff Merle. Lord knows Merle deserved it.
"Lower your weapon, Shane," Rick said slowly when he saw his best friend turn so he was aiming his gun at Daryl instead of the walker who was limping it's way towards the rest of them. "That's his brother. If he wants to do this then we let him."
After a short, intense stare off, Shane finally dropped his arms and gave Daryl a short nod as if he needed permission to shoot what used to be his kin. He would handle that situation a little later after he dealt with his brother. No, a voice in the back of his head reasoned, that ain't your brother no more. "Do it then," Shane said, taking a step back but keeping a challenging look on his face. He didn't think Daryl had it in him.
As Daryl looked at the gun in his hands and then back at what used to be Merle he noticed how badly he was shaking. The others must have seen it, too, considering how hard his body trembled. If he were alone he would have taken a deep breath to calm himself but he wouldn't show anymore weakness in front of the group than he had to. He took a small, tentative step toward the geek and aimed his gun at the center of it's skull. Part of him wished his group would leave and let him do this alone but he knew if he was in their shoes he wouldn't go anywhere either. As hotheaded as he could be he was probably one of the most reasonable people he knew.
He tried fighting his weakness as hard as he could but it was no use. Tears suddenly pricked his eyes and rolled down his cheeks before he had the chance to stop them. His breath hitched and he knew he was on the edge of a breakdown. Daryl took one more step closer and mentally cursed himself for not having his bow; he would have preferred to do this with his bow. His hands were shaking too much for the gun. But he needed to do this. He would never forgive himself if he let somebody else take out his own blood. It had to be him and no one else.
"I'm sorry, Merle," Daryl sobbed out quietly. "I love ya, brother." Squeezing his eyes shut, he pulled the trigger before he lost the strength to do so. The shot rang out louder than any gunshot before and the unmistakable sound of a body falling to the ground made him flinch. His brother was his lifeline whether they were together or apart. Sure, he took a hell of a lot more beatings from his father because Merle decided to just up and leave him, but when he was just a child he saw his brother take more than a few extra beatings in order to protect him. He wouldn't have made it as far as he had if he didn't have Merle.
Not two seconds after he pulled the trigger he ran towards his tent. Fuck his group. He didn't need sympathetic stares, or anybody telling him that they were sorry, or anything they might try to offer him. Merle was a piece of shit that deserved to die anyways for putting everybody in danger the way he had. He just killed his big brother. So what? He picked up his bow and switched his shotgun for a smaller handgun before dashing deep into the woods. He didn't need to be around those people. He had better things to do.
Like finding Sophia.
There was no way in hell he was going to make Carol go through the same thing he just had. He felt like he was suffocating and it was just his good-for-nothing brother who abandoned him with their father. Sophia was Carol's daughter for fuck's sake! It'd kill her! But he didn't care about anybody other than himself because he was better off that way. Better off not caring.
A jolt when up his spine as he ran and he could hear the crack of his father's belt against his skin. Who would protect him now that Merle was gone? But that didn't make any sense. Merle had been gone before and he had to protect himself as best he could. They were fighting in a world taken over by goddamn walkers and his brain decided that he should remember what life was like before this shit storm blew up. Perfect. He almost snorted.
He couldn't figure out if he was running from his group or his father but not knowing which only made him run faster. He knew he should have been taking it easy because his body was still recovering but fuck that. He'd be fine. He was always fine. He was fine before Merle left and he was fine after. He was fine after the numerous failed murder attempts and he sure as hell was fine when his father was no longer able to hurt him. He'd been fighting off the fucking walking dead and he was still fine. He would always be fine and anybody who thinks otherwise could go right to hell.
It couldn't have been long before Daryl collapsed onto his hands and knees as he threw up every little thing inside of his body, but he knew he wasn't sick. He wasn't in shock from seeing Merle as a walker, either. He wasn't sad and he certainly didn't miss his low-life brother. He had just ran too much on an empty stomach and he threw up. Or maybe he had a full stomach. He couldn't remember, but that had to have been the reason. There was no other possible conclusion.
"SOPHIA!" he screamed as loud as he could as he finally forced his way back to his feet. He was gasping for air but he wasn't giving up on this girl just because his brother happened to get bit. Once he was standing upright he started laughing. He hadn't laughed that hard in god only knows how long, but the problem was he couldn't quite understand what was funny. He racked his brain for the answer but his thoughts jumped from one topic to another, and that's when he realized he was laughing at himself and his goddamn stupidity. He knew better than to run blindly into danger the way he had even if he had a gun and his bow. He was shaking too badly to use either one of them properly, and that also went for his knife. He was fucked if a walker came by. Who knows? Maybe he wanted one to. That only made him laugh more.
He continued to snicker as he made his way more slowly through the trees. His mind was all foggy with thoughts of his father, memories of his brother, and the determination to find Sophia. All those thoughts inside of his head made his heart race but he couldn't cease the laughter. He did, however, take back slight control on the situation and told himself that he could laugh all he wanted as long as he looked for that goddamn girl.
The sound of the sticks cracking beneath his feet only caused his anxiety levels to rise because the sound was eerily similar to the sound of his dad's belt coming in contact with his back. Flashbacks threatened to take over his mind with each step he took but he kept his panic at bay. Just a little bit longer, he told himself. He was not going back to camp without Sophia. He lost his brother and he would not let Carol lose her daughter!
He was no longer laughing as he fell to his knees with his forehead against the dirt. He let out a loud sob that seemed to echo, but he didn't care. He never stopped thinking about Merle, but he wasn't selfish. He knew Merle could take care of himself, so Daryl decided to take care of the group. He didn't want to go to the CDC because his brother had no idea they were going there. What if he came back when they were gone? They weren't ever going to go back there, especially not after what happened. Merle didn't know about the highway or the farm or any of it. Leaving their original camp meant leaving his brother, and he did it because those fucking people needed his help and he couldn't turn his back on them when they had children. He justified his reason to leave and he didn't regret it one bit, but that didn't take away the loneliness he felt when thoughts of his brother crossed his mind. Everybody else, save Carol, was lucky because the people they loved were gone, and that meant they were dead. They didn't have to worry about them or wonder if they should go look for them; they were rotting in the ground. Sophia was missing and Merle had been missing and it was visibly killing Carol. He wondered if it was that obvious for the others that missing his brother was killing him as well.
At first he thought that absolutely nothing would stop his tears, but then he heard a soft voice. It was a girl, obviously young, and the sound was familiar. He lifted his head off of the ground and looked to find the source of the voice when he saw her. Her clothes looked worse than his own after a day full of hunting and her hair was a damn nest. Blood and dirt caked her faces and arms and every other part of her skin that was visible. Hell, he was willing to bet she was just as dirty behind the clothes as well. She had lost so much weight - at least fifteen pounds - and she looked sick. But she was alive. By god, she was alive.
"Sophia?" he whispered, staring at her with wide eyes.
"D-Daryl?" she said, and he realized that she had been saying his name for a while before it registered. "Are you okay? What happened?"
He was on his feet and running towards her so fast that she screamed, or at least tried to, as he picked her up and held her as tight as he could. "We've been lookin' 'erywhere for ya," he said and to his and her surprise found himself crying again. "Are you hurt? Were you bit?"
"No. I ran away from all the zombies," she said and finally hugged him back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and held on to him as tightly as she possibly could. "I was so scared."
"I know, sweetheart, I know," Daryl choked out, placing a hand on the back of her head and gently massaging her scalp. That was something Merle used to do for him when they were children when their father was particularly loud. He knew it calmed him down a bit, and it probably still would, so he gave it a shot with Sophia. "What doya say we get ya back to see yer mom? We found a new home."
"How's my momma doing?" Sophia asked, looking at him with big, scared eyes. He gently pushed her head down onto his shoulder. He wasn't being soft and he didn't want to hold her. He was doing it because he didn't know if she'd be able to make the trip back. He didn't want her to overexert herself and pass out or something on the way back. That's all he was doing - looking out for a sick kid.
"Yer momma's doin' just fine. Misses you," he said gruffly, adjusting her slightly so he could walk faster without much problem. He wanted to get her back to the farm as quickly as he possibly. Her mom has gone long enough without seeing her, and she was probably picturing her as Merle. He grunted loudly and wanted to kick himself. He needed to man up and quit being such a goddamn pussy over his brother. "She's worried sick. Best we get ya back to her."
"You were cryin'. Are you okay?" she asked after walking in silence for about ten or so minutes. At least he was walking in silence; she wasn't walking.
"Fuckin' peachy," he grumbled, and he regretted it immediately just like he always did when he was being a dick to Carol. "Yeah, girl, I'm fine. Been a rough day."
"Why?" she asked. Damn her childlike curiosity.
"How 'bout you don't worry 'bout that now, huh?" he said, blowing off her question. It wasn't worth talking about. He wasn't bothered by Merle. He never was. He wasn't bothered by his father either. It was hard for him to breathe because he was walking and carrying a little girl - not because he could hear his father telling him how much of a liability he is and still heard the sound of that damned belt.
He nearly got them lost walking back to the farm. He took pride in being a good hunter and tracker but with his head as messed up as it was he was lucky he even knew they were going in the right direction. But he eventually found his way. He always did. Walking back to their little camp he was spotted immediately, but Sophia went unnoticed from that big of a distance. His group had gathered around a fire-despite the fact that the sun hadn't gone completely down yet- and everyone of them stood up when they saw him approaching.
"We were worried about you," Rick said carefully as he got closer. "We wanted to go look for you but figured you'd be back when you were ready."
"Are you doin' okay?" Lori asked him, avoiding his eyes completely. He snorted. Course he was okay.
"Carol," Daryl said and he found that his voice was softer than he wanted it to be, but he couldn't change that. Despite what he had to do to his own brother he was happy to give somebody else happiness.
"Yes, Daryl?" she said, taking a few more steps closer to him seeing as how he stopped walking. Slowly, he set down Sophia and took a step back. A gasp went through the group and if he thought he moved quick to hug her, she moved twice that speed and grabbed hold of her little girl. "Oh my god, Sophia!" she cried. Everybody else stared either at the two of them or at Daryl, and he couldn't take the stares so he quietly made his way back to his tent. He dropped his weapons carelessly onto the ground before collapsing next to them just in time for the next wave of tears to hit.
The group would forget about him for the night. They had Sophia and she was going to be cared for and looked after and babied. That's alright for her. She was missing for so long so a night full of the people who love her coddling over her would be okay and Daryl couldn't even be annoyed with that. Besides, it took the attention off of himself. It wasn't a shock to be forgotten. He had hoped he would be. That's just the life of Daryl Dixon. He was handed a shitty life from the get go and nothing would ever change. He'd deal with his problems alone like he had been for most of his life. He didn't need anybody there to hold him and tell him how things would get better. He knew things were only going to get worse.
He did what he said he would do; he found Sophia. Everybody was happy once again. Carol didn't have her little girl wondering the woods all alone anymore. She was safe and would remain safe. Nobody else was missing anybody. Merle was taken care of. Tomorrow they'd come see him. He'd be thanked for finding Sophia and he nearly cringed at the thought. He shouldn't be thanked for looking for a little girl who was lost. That was just the right thing to do. Just like the right thing for him to do was get his crying out of the way and move on once daylight hits. He'd go hunting first thing in the morning and continue on his normal living. His brother had left him before. He was always able to adjust.
But, lord, it was never this painful before.