10 years before the end:

It was a warm, humid July night in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Up the back roads from the town of Clayton, a lone man lay on the couch on his front porch, the glow from his cigarette the only light visible in the darkness. The good thing about living in the middle of nowhere? No city or street lights to mar the night stars.

Daryl Dixon was laying back with one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the sky. He didn't get many nights like this where he could be alone and just relax. Between his brother's endless raucous parties and drug dealings, there was hardly a time when the house was empty, save for Daryl. He put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled a long, drawn out drag. He held his breath, feeling the burn of the smoke and chemicals settling in his lungs. When he couldn't take it anymore, he blew the smoke out in a long stream, watching as it disappeared into the night air. He could definitely get used to this.

The peacefulness of the moment was shattered when he heard the roar of motorcycle coming up the road. Daryl stood up, squinting into the darkness. He could make out the front light of a bike making its way up the long, winding dirt driveway. Late night visitors were a regular occurrence considering Merle's profession as a drug dealer, and night time transactions were more desirable; however, the haste with which the man stopped his bike and dismounted was unusual, to say the least. Recognizing the swagger of his brother as the man walked hurriedly up the house; Daryl leaned down and stubbed out his cigarette.

"Outta the way boy," Merle barked as he pushed past Daryl into the house, causing the younger man to stumble slightly and grab the arm of the couch for support. Daryl straightened and strode into the house, about to ask Merle what the hell his problem was when, he saw the older man's face.

Merle was white as a sheet and he was pacing back and forth across the small living room, running his hands through his cropped hair. He had a cell phone to his ear and was talking urgently into it. In all his twenty-six years, Daryl had never seen his brother like this.

"Ya think they saw us, Tommy?" Merle spoke into the phone, addressing his 'business partner' so to speak. Tommy was a friend of Will Dixon, Merle's father, and had helped get Merle into the drug business at a young age. Tommy's response caused Merle to sigh and collapse into the giant armchair in the living room, his face slightly relaxing and some color returning to his cheeks.

"What the hell happened out there, Merle? What's wrong with ya?" Daryl asked, looking down at his brother. Merle continued talking, ignoring Daryl's question.

"Which one did Ash hit? Who got him?" He leaned forward, a look of concentration as he spoke into the phone. There was a moment of silence as Merle listened to Tommy's response.

Merle leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "He's dead, ain't he?"

Tommy's answer made Merle close his eyes and tilt his head back, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips.

Daryl's impatience took him over then and he towered over Merle. "Ya answer me when I talk to ya! What the hell is goin' on? First ya come in here lookin' like fuckin' death, than ya talk 'bout somebody fuckin' dyin'? Is Ash dead? What the hell, Merle?"

Merle stood up fast, dropping the phone, grabbing Daryl by the shirt and throwing him down to the chair. He put his hands on both arms of the chair, leaning down so he was mere inches away from Daryl's face. His tone was low. Dangerous.

"Ya wanna know so bad what happened, baby brother? I'll tell ya. What's the right phrase for it? Drug deal gone bad. Someone snitched, probably Austin. I'ma kill that mother fucker." Merle was breathing faster now, his eyes bugging out slightly. "Cops showed up. Tried ta get Ash ta come out. They been after his ass fer weeks cuz he makes the best crystal 'round here. Me n' Tommy were in the back waitin' ta get the product when the cops told him to come out. Next thing we knew..." Merle trailed off, backing away from Daryl to straighten himself. He turned his back to Daryl now. "Ash got out his gun. Aimed it out at the window an' fired a few rounds 'fore they got him."

Daryl furrowed his brow, confused at the reaction of the two men to the situation. "So, that's all that happened? Ash is dead an' now ya gone all pussy on me? Ya know if ya shoot at a cop ya gonna get shot back at. Ash was a dumbass."

Merle whirled around. "Yeah, wasn't just Ash that was shot. He hit some cops 'fore they got him!" He paused before he let the last sentence slip from his lips. "An' I think one of them was the chief."

Daryl felt his heart beat faster and rubbed his hands through his hair a few times. "But you 'n Tommy didn't kill him, right? They didn't see ya, so nothin' to worry—"

Merle exploded, running into Daryl and holding him to the wall, his arm pressed into the younger man's throat. The veins in his forehead seemed to bulge out as he screamed, "Got everythin' ta worry about shithead! I'm on probation, they find out I was on the scene when the chief was killed my ass is good as dead, so dontcha go 'round sayin' there's nothin' to worry about. Ya know cops, they's always lookin' out fer their own and they'll burn mah ass fer bein' there. Accomplice to murder or some shit. Not yer ass gonna get dragged back ta prison ta rot!"

Daryl was clutching at Merle's arm, his eyes slightly bugging from the extreme pressure being applied to his esophagus. He was struggling to pull his brother's arm away from his neck, but the older man was in such a rage it was almost pointless to try. Daryl knew his brother wouldn't kill him, but sometimes he didn't know how much pain the older Dixon was willing to inflict. It was only when Daryl pulled his arm back and punched Merle smack in the head that Merle let him go, stumbling back and holding a hand to his head.

"Goddamn, son of a bitch, that hurt." Merle shook his head to get rid of the stars that were forming from Daryl's well-aimed punch. He continued rubbing his head and bent down to pick up the discarded phone. Remarkably enough, Tommy hadn't disconnected the call.

"Ya alright then, brother? Didn't get ta see where ya rode off to, I high-tailed it outta there on ma bike fast as I could." Tommy's answer indicated he was fine. After a few more questions to wrap up loose ends, Merle hung up the phone and turned back to Daryl, who had resettled himself into the armchair.

Merle sat down on the old couch across from Daryl and cleared his throat. "Don't think the cops saw us. We ran out the back while they dealt with the mess out front. Probably heard our bikes but we parked far enough down the road they wouldn't have caught up to us."

Daryl continued watching his brother carefully while Merle continued, "We're gonna lay low a little while. With Ash out the heat's up so no one's gonna be cookin' for awhile."

Daryl nodded in agreement. "Probably a good idea."

Merle glanced at his brother and spoke matter of factly, "No one can know 'bout this."

Daryl took out a cigarette and lit the end, taking a slow drag. "Ya think ya can trust Tommy?"

Merle held out a hand and Daryl handed him the pack of cigarettes. Merle lit one of his own and leaned back on the couch, one arm behind his head. "Ole bastard won't say anything. He's old school. Won't rat out anyone."

Daryl leaned back and put one arm behind his head, unaware of how eerily similar he was to his brother's position right then. "Well, looks like we got nothin' ta worry 'bout then."

Merle took another drag of his cigarette. He stared at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

"Yeah," he drawled softly. "Nothin' ta worry about."

AN: I am excited post this story! Hope you like it and any reviews are most welcome, I thrive on constructive criticism.

Thanks to Bitch Goddess and MollyMayhem84 for their help in this, they are both amazing :)