Daryl Knew
A/N: So I was watching the death scene, but before that I was watching a panel of Norman Reedus and Michael Rooker, idk where this came from. But I wanted to write it so badly. It's likely rubbish, sorry for doubting it, you all may love it.
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven't watched 3x15. Seriously. Watch it. You'll flip with 3x16 too. I think there may be a damn or two. Don't think I dropped the f-bomb I may be wrong.
This was hastily written, no beta. Sorry for the mistakes!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, if I did...oh so many things would change! Sorry. I do not gain any wage nor reward for this other than reviews, which are free. This is purely for entertainment. Do not sue me please!
I love Norman and Michael, they are epic together and their panels kill me with laughter.
Please R&R if you will.
A/N End
-x-
Shock and rejection of reality. The crossbow slipped from his grasp and landed with hardly a sound on the dusty ground. The only sounds were Daryl's sharp intake of breath and a horrid slurping and crunching noise.
Those were the first things that registered in the young mind of Daryl Dixon as he watched the undead version of his brother glance up from the geek's meal, gore slipping from the undead, pasty, blood covered lips. A fat, blood covered tongue licked the geek's lips.
It couldn't be Merle.
Daryl's brain overrode his sentimentality.
With his face scrunched up, trying not to hyperventilate and burst into tears, Daryl took a step back from the once-brother-now-geek.
Glaring at the ground, Daryl knew nothing else but pain and anger. He was so angry. His heart hurt so badly. There was nothing that could be done. Daryl felt helpless, Daryl felt tears prick his eyes, Daryl backed away, trying to breathe and accept the reality...
Merle was a walker.
Daryl shoved at the dead version of Merle as it came up at him. Each shove gave off a new wave of pain and sorrow for the younger Dixon. So much anguish had filled their lives together, then they had been ripped asunder, and just when they seemed to be getting back together, just when everything finally appeared as though fate was done torturing the Dixon boys...
Merle was killed...and became something inhuman and undead. He became undead Merle, uncussing Merle, unfighting Merle, unhuman Merle. Merle was gone, un-Merle was there now.
It was devastating.
Daryl knew he wouldn't have any silly notions of keeping un-Merle by his side as Hershel had had for his family.
Daryl knew that the group would never have a chance to fully accept Merle, for Merle to truly be family to all of them.
Daryl knew he'd never get to start anew with his brother.
Daryl knew...knew he had to end this. As he would've expected Merle to do.
Daryl let the anguish consume him as he shoved un-Merle to the ground, knife imbedded in his clavicle. Daryl let the anger at fate, the universe, the Governor (as he was surely the one who shot Merle), the stupid, damn apocalypse, at everything pour out of him and into his knife. He smashed it into un-Merle's face over and over as he felt traitorous tears stream down his face.
Daryl kept stabbing un-Merle until he was consumed by the tears and sobs. He fell back off the carcass, unable to breathe.
He looked unto the corpse with sorrow and pain.
Daryl knew...
Daryl knew, somehow, that against all his hopes and wishes...Merle would never truly fit in with them.
Daryl knew in the very darkest part of his mind, Merle wouldn't survive this war with The Governor.
Daryl knew he would be brotherless, but he wished he had been wrong.
Daryl knew it was foolish to stay. There were geeks surrounding him, all over. His frantic sobs and partial breakdown were likely to attract them.
Daryl knew this. He didn't care.
Daryl went about the task of gathering Merle up, and doing the only thing he could, as there was no time to dig a grave.
Daryl found an old forgotten can of Kerosene and doused Merle's corpse.
Daryl took out his lighter and lit the body aflame, adding broken pieces of tree limbs and packing palets as he found them until a huge bonfire encompassed Merle's body.
Daryl did not leave a grave marker.
Daryl did not say any prayers.
Daryl knew, knew well, that Merle wouldn't have wanted that.
Daryl knew he had to return to the prison.
Daryl knew his brother was gone, forever.
Daryl didn't know if he was able to handle that.
Daryl did know, however, that he would handle it. However he could.
Daryl knew Merle wouldn't let him get away with lying around sobbing, not even for Merle's death.
Daryl knew Merle was like that.
Daryl knew Merle had sacrificed himself, taking it upon himself to do the dirty work, as he always had.
Daryl knew Merle would not be remembered for his sacrifice, not by the group.
Daryl knew he would remember Merle's sacrifice, as out of character as it was. Daryl would thank Merle for this, but never out loud to anyone.
Daryl knew they wouldn't understand.
Daryl knew no one need know of his breakdown, no one but perhaps Carol or Rick would even ask if he was ok. Daryl would carry on silently, as he always had.
Daryl knew, The Governor would die.
Daryl knew these types of things.
