A/N: Hey fellow readers, I have decided since after reading through a ton of amazing Walking Dead fanfics, I thought I might make a Dixon Brothers one that goes back to their past but not just yet. I have indeed been reading a lot of Daryl and Merle fics and let me tell you there are some amazingly awesome ones that I read over and over again so thanks for writing those amazing stories, they inspire me to make my own! This story is just a one-shot about the brothers and how Daryl waited so long to see Merle again only for something horrific to happen!

You're the reason I'm still here: Walking Dead

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Merle Dixon was a hard ass redneck bastard who never ever took shit from anyone; he never broke down and cried, never fled from a fight, and never gave up when he knew he should've but now as he looked down at his baby brother, he knew he was in a losing battle for what seemed like the very first time in his life, Daryl clinging to the very edge of life.

Merle didn't want anyone else to know about this. Ain't nobody cares more about Daryl than Merle and that was the honest truth. "M-Merle, this f-fuckin' hurts," Daryl spoke full of hurt and soft words that only made the atmosphere around the Dixon's much more harder to handle.

He took his two dirty fingers and brushed back Daryl's hair, getting a perfect view of his deep blue eyes. Daryl had tears in those eyes and Merle frowned.

"What I tell you 'bout cryin'?" his cracked voice was mean in words and tone but Daryl knew how his older brother worked; as they hid away from the rest of the cruel world somewhere in an unknown dirt cave, being their only last resort, Daryl was growing closer and closer to death and Merle was afraid. After witnessing that sonofabitch bite into his own baby brother's arm, he penetrated the fucker's skull with his blade and that was the end of him.

Daryl's body had become half-way numb laying uncomfortably shaken in his brother's lap, tears of fear rolling down his dirt-covered face. Merle couldn't stop even himself from shaking, the only trace of light being the moon from above, shining through the entrance of the cave.

Blood stained Merle's hard face, his torso down. He continued to brush Daryl's face, tracing his nose, over his eyelids and finally slowly over his cracked lips. He was begining to grow cold and Merle felt his own body twitch in discomfort of his brother dying against him. "I ain't gonna' let you leave me, ain't never gonna' leave you ever!" Merle's bloodshot eyes looked down at baby Daryl, his blood so warm and thick soaking through to him, he wanted to cry. Daryl's eyes shut tight in an instant and he cried loud, his fingers grabbing so hard to Merle's blood-soaked slacks. The virus was spreading and Daryl felt like shit, only causing Merle to stroke his face and try to calm him down like nothing was happening.

"F-FUCK, I'm dyin' Merle...I-I'm dyin'...his breath was voiceless and cold against Merle's face. His tone was dying and so was that sweet back-woods drawl of his.

Merle took his eyes off of the moon and looked down at his brother, his fingers still caressing his forehead. "No you ain't little brother, no you aint!" Merle's voice was never that soft and silent but he couldn't do anything about it. He was terrified of losing Daryl, his little baby brother that he'd always loved and never really stopped even if he never really showed it much.

Daryl felt his body empty out on to Merle, the last of his blood making him warm for the very last time, his fingertips reaching up to touch his brother. Merle stopped caressing and grabbed Daryl's cold hand.

"Why this h-happen to me, Merle?" Daryl was soft spoken now and will be until he closes his eyes for good, his heart slowing down minute after minute.

Merle's skin tingled feeling the once heavy weight of his brother die down all too fast, pointing his blood-stained blade to the sky. Daryl fisted Merle's slacks again and again, blood pumping out faster, tears staining his face. Merle didn't think he could take any more, and he was right. His hard-heart suddenly sank and he lost it; "I ain't ever lettin' you go, ya' here me, baby brother!" his large arms snaked tight around Daryl's draining body, discovering his new hatred towards his tiny body mass.

Silent tear drops left the corners of Merle's eyes and he closed them shut! He didn't want Daryl to see him crying; "Don't let me go, please..." Daryl breathed delicately, his right palm touching his brother's warm cheek, whiskers tickling his numbing flesh and vision terrible.

It was only minutes now before losing Daryl and Merle couldn't bare it; warm tears fell from his old hard face and dripped onto Daryl's cheek, causing his heavy eyes to blink. "I-I love you...Merle," his hand fell from Merle's cheek and Merle waited for the worst. He shed so many tears tonight, he was letting the very soft center of his soul break free. Merle's arms grew stronger around his brother and the last of Daryl's warmth and life left his body.

Merle knew it was coming, he'd seen it all too soon before any of this happened; one thing he regretted saying was "Ain't no one love you more than me, Daryl, no one!"

Life without Daryl was no life at all; he knew Daryl would change any random moment; it could take minutes, hours, days even. He wasn't about to break his baby brother's skull in without saying what he always wanted to say, even if that meant saying it straight to his growling walking dead corpse.

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Merle picked up his bottle of day old rum and drank it down in one fill. He needed more than just booze to get him through the night; he could smell the blood, the metallic scent forming right underneath Merle's nose, but he was all too used to that smell.

He stood up and pulled out his zippo lighter. It had the rebel flag print on both sides, rusted body; Merle took it from his old man years ago, the only thing he really wanted to take from the old fat bastard.

He flicked it open and the flame was small but it was still bright enough to lighten the cave. He looked down at all the blood, the large puddle still forming underneath his brother's lifeless body. Just standing there looking down at him like that gave Merle a disturbing feeling and he didn't like it; just another horrific event to fuck up his life even more.

Merle bent down to his knees, but he knew he couldn't touch Daryl's cold face without setting the zippo down or burning the boy's face to a fucking crisp and he didn't want that. "Time to sleep boy, you need some sleep, an' I promise you I ain't ever gonna' leave you," he sat right down beside Daryl's body in his blood, and laid down, closing the zippo, revealing the darkness. Merle rolled over to his side and with his only hand he felt in the dark for his little brother's face and he shivered once he'd touched it. It was no longer warm, and soft; it was cold and rough, his cheek bones sunk in, and lips cracked until blood-shed.

Merle Dixon couldn't believe his baby brother lost his life before Merle, the boy's past was full of terror and sadness; Merle was the hardest on himself when it came to their father; Merle smoked pot, had his several tastes of coke and even messed with the needles. It was his only way to releive the pain, to escape this hell and instead of Merle leaving Daryl did, his soft, carefree little brother. Merle should've been dead many years ago.

He moved his aching body closer to Daryl's and continued to rub his thumb across his jaged jawline and cheekbones. He felt the tickling sensation of the unwanted tears roll down again and he closed his eyes and waited, waited for Daryl to come walking.

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E/N: I am so sorry for you Daryl fans out there because I really do feel upset and sad for writing this and I am a massive Daryl fan as well. I just wanted to try something out; like I wanted to see how Merle would react if Daryl went before him...so tell me what you guys thought of it! See you later!