A/N: This takes place right after the end of episode 8, Nebraska, after Rick kills Dave and Tony and hear someone else outside the bar. From that point on my story deviates from the main plot quite a bit. Daryl and Glenn are in an established relationship that the others know about.
Mega thanks to my amazing BETA, Xtreme619! She has been beyond helpful.
Disclaimer: I do not own. All rights go to Robert Kirkman, Frank Darabont, and all others involved. All others DOES NOT involve me, sadly.
Chapter One
Rick pulled himself out of hiding, glancing at Glenn as he cautiously make his way to the door; the younger man's nod in return said that yes, Glenn had heard it too. With his gun still drawn the ex-sheriff peeked quickly out the window of the bar before motioning for Hershel and Glenn to follow him.
"Merle?" Rick called out, moving away from the window – just in case. The shuffling of feet on the other side of the wall stopped.
"Who the hell's there?" Yelled the same voice from before and Rick was positive it belonged to one, Merle Dixon.
"It's Rick and Glenn...from Atlanta." Rick waited with baited breath.
"The chink?" The man's rough chuckle met their ears before the door creaked open and Merle's towering form entered, right arm nothing but a stubby, scarred lump. In his good arm the elder Dixon held an impressive looking shotgun. Glenn took an instinctive step away from the roughneck but never took his eyes off Merle's face. "Well I'll be damned!" Merle hooted, propping the gun easily on his broad shoulder.
"We went back for you," Rick offered quickly in hopes of avoiding conflict. Merle offered nothing but a scoff in return, quickly changing the subject.
"Where's that worthless brother of mine, anyhow? Sonofabitch get himself killed without me around?" The way Merle bore his teeth made Rick grimace.
"No, he's still alive." Glenn spoke up. "He's doing great, actually." The chill in Glenn's tone didn't go unnoticed by Merle if his double take was anything to go by but surprisingly he let it go.
"You're welcome to come back with us," Rick said, invitation hesitant but sincere. The group's unofficial 'leader' felt he owed Merle at least a hot meal and a safe place to sleep.
Merle regarded the three other men carefully before nodding, leaving the bar without waiting to see if anyone followed him. Glenn sighed quietly and threw Rick an incredulous look but followed him and Hershel as they exited the bar after Merle. Merle was standing by their car with a single black duffle bag slung over his shoulder, waiting impatiently for the others to catch up. No one even attempted to snag shotgun from the intimidating man as they all loaded into the small car. The car ride was silent for a long moment, everyone staring straight ahead except for the harsh glare Glenn threw Merle every so often. Daryl had told Glenn, late at night while they stroked each other's skin softly, trailing lips lovingly over bare shoulders and necks, that while Merle was his only living family the older man wasn't exactly the best role model. Glenn's lover was still secretive, even after months of sleeping in the same tent, but the few things Glenn did know about Merle were enough for the Asian man to hate him.
Glenn was on edge; he and Daryl has never discussed what they would do if Merle ever came back but the Asian man knew that the eldest Dixon was a bigoted, homophobic racist and would probably freak out if he knew his baby brother liked men and was in a serious, committed relationship with an Asian man to boot. Should Glenn continue on as normal, kissing Daryl once they arrived back at camp, laughing when the redneck attempted to smear squirrel guts on him? Or should he hold back, pretend to hate Daryl and set up his old tent for the first time in forever? Unfortunately for Glenn he was out of time to make a decision as Rick parked near the RV. They all exited the car only to be met with gasps.
"Merle?" Daryl stood, half-skinned rabbit falling from his grasp.
"Not happy to see me?" Merle asked, the arm that held the shotgun twitching threateningly.
"Not exactly… If you would have just waited, we went right back for your ass! Why the fuck'd ya cut off yer hand?" Daryl growled out of anger. "But of course I'm happy to see you." He said sarcastically. After only a moment's hesitation Daryl walked up to stand in front of his older (and bigger) brother. When Merle raised his stumpy arm Daryl barely flinched (Glenn still saw it), but forced himself to relax when his brother slapped his shoulder, half-way approvingly.
"Well, now! Look who's finally growing a backbone!" Merle snickered. "Now stop it, and give your big brother a hug," without waiting for Daryl to move, Merle grabbed his brother into a tight hug. With his face pressed uncomfortably against Merle's sweat-soaked chest Daryl's heart skipped a beat because there was definitely something wrong. Never, in all the years of his life, could Daryl remember being hugged by his brother. Everyone watched, muscles tensed and hands hovering close to their guns because really, you never know with Merle Dixon.
A/N: Since chapter one is so short I'm also posting chapter two. I have a decent chunk of this already written so I'll be posting once or twice a week, depending on how fast I write and how impatient I get! Reviews are love, please let me know what you think. This is the first time I've posting anything in years.