Rated for Merle's potty mouth.

"You and Officer Friendly over there got close, didn't cha?"

Daryl glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued the repetitive motions of cleaning his crossbow, removing the spatter of some random geek and leaving its surface smooth and polished. He didn't give a damn how filthy and beat up he looked, but he always took pride and care in the weapon. It was his greatest ally in this Hell, he needed to make sure it was well cared for.

It didn't stop his hands from tightening their hold, his heart rate spiking the tiniest bit.

"What're you talkin' about Merle?" Muttered Daryl, trying to keep his anger in check. He knew the way Merle thought. Surely his brother wasn't implying...

Merle chuckled, shaking his head. "Calm down little brother, I know you ain't no faggot. I didn't raise you like tha'. Naw, I just meant you two were tight, you know?"

Daryl turned his gaze back down to the crossbow. "What of it?"

Merle seemed to pause, his eyebrow raising slightly as if he were surprised by something.

"He's batshit, that's what." Merle leaned back against the wall, placing his hand and stump behind his head, his mouth falling into a smirk with ease. "I ain't been here too long but I see it. I know you do too."

Daryl felt his jaw tighten slightly. "He'll be all 'ight."

Merle's head cocked, his voice turning low and cunning. "We ain't got no room for nut jobs."

"We took you in, didn't we?"

Merle chuckled, nodding in acknowledgment. "Yeah, but Rick out there... He's a different kind a crazy. Talking to himself, seeing things... Scary stuff. Makes a man... Unpredictable."

Daryl lifted the crossbow, satisfied by its once again immaculate appearance. He lifted it, checking it's sight by directing the crosshairs at Merle's face. "We ain't tossin' him out. He's been through a lot, he'll get over it. He has before, he led us all win'er."

"Ain't like he's the only one who's been through a lot." Merle answered darkly, lifting his stump for emphasis. "But you made yourself clear on tha', didn'tcha? Said I was askin' for it?"

"Rick's a good man." Was Daryl's simple answer, refusing to be manipulated. Too many times had he taken the bait Merle dangled in front of his face, he was a smarter man then that now.

People always accused his brother of being an idiot. Inbred redneck trash. That was usually their downfall. See, Merle was smarter than most gave him credit for. He could say things that got under your skin before you knew it and you didn't even have a chance to get it back out. Before long, the words were left to fester and putrefy, making you wonder about things. Get you to see it his way. He'd fallen victim to this time and time again.

But not this time. He was smarter, he wasn't that little snot nosed brat doggin' at his brothers heels.

It wasn't all 'bout him no more.

"And what about the day when he loses it, huh?" Merle settled himself in, that self-satisfied smirk never leaving his older brothers face. "All I know is, ya best be hopin' he turns that gun on himself and not everyone else."

"Rick wouldn't do that." Daryl snapped sharply, his words solid and certain. "He ain't weak and he ain't the kind to opt out. No' like that, 'specially with Carl and Asskicker. He's tougher then ye' think Merle."

Merle's smirk shrunk, just the tiniest bit. "What you defendin' him for anyways. Unless you really are just a faggot."

"I ain't no faggot." Daryl snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "In case you haven't noticed, I done nothing but defend you since we got here. None o' them think you're worth nothin' Merle."

"That's cause they're all jus' uppity bastards. No different than before the biters rose up."

"No, it's cause you turned a Walker on a man duct taped to a damn chair! Cause you couldn't keep your damn mouth shut! You ain't learned nothin' since that roof, have ya?" Daryl growled, his irritation building. "They don't trust you, you gotta put some effort in. You gotta try, Merle. Cause I can only protect you for so long. Rick tol' me that anything you do now is on me. They ain't gonna toss me out, but you ain't done nothin' to earn your keep."

"What makes you think they won't toss you out too, huh?" Merle hissed, any sign of ease gone from his posture, his muscles hard and rigid. He looked seconds away from snapping, but he held himself together. He'd been like that ever since seeing those... Ugly things on his back. Like he was afraid of crossing some line.

He didn't realise that him seeing it changed nothing. That he couldn't reconcile or take back what had happened. What's done is done and Daryl had moved on.

Or so he told himself.

But now wasn't the time for that. On the surface, this was about Rick, but somehow something else lingered at the edges, something dark and angry that Merle was keeping hidden.

Daryl didn't have time for these fuckin' mind games right now and his patience was quickly wearing thin.

"They won't toss me out cause we're family." He spat, knowing the words would hurt Merle whether he showed it or not. He saw the older man's eyes flicker with something that looked like betrayal and he felt a moment of dark satisfaction. He knew he'd regret it later, but at the moment he was too damned pissed and it felt good to hurt him. To show Merle how it felt to be the one left behind."We stick together, we have for a long time now. They took me in after you left, they treat me like I'm worth somethin'. I ain't givin' that up! I belong here, Merle!"

"They ain't your family!" Merle snarled viciously, standing to his feet and his face twisting into something that Daryl would have once found terrifying. Even now, something deep inside him quivered, wanting to bow his head and duck away, make himself small and weak before this hulking presence. Not because he truly thought Merle would hurt him like that, like their Father had, but because at times like this they looked so similar.

But the flame inside his belly rose, his fury giving him the strength to stare his brother straight in the eye, his knuckles turning white.

"They may not be blood, but they are my family now." Daryl said, his voice never wavering. "You smarten up, you can be too."

Merle blew a breath through his nostrils, his face flushed with rage as he glowered. "You expect me to change? After all we been through, you want me to become somethin' different to impress your new pals? You used to be happy when it was us, little brother."

"I cared enough to leave with ye'." Daryl answered, "I may 'ave come back, but I was willin' to give it a try. I've always been the one to change, to evolve so I could follow you. Jus' this one time, Merle, I need you to try. I wan' you to become better. I want you to stay."

Daryl turned, stepping outside the door and turning to close it, ignoring the shocked look on Merle's face as he clicked the lock into place, something that had become habit since the Dixon's had returned. Merle was either with Daryl or locked in the cell and while they had rebelled against it at first, it had simply become routine.

Merle stood still, his mouth working with words he couldn't express. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't think of what.

"Rick isn't a bad man." Daryl told him quietly. "None of these people are bad. They could be your family too, ya know. It's a long ways off, 'specially after Glenn and Maggie bu'... It could work. They've forgiven before. I know we used to talk about not needin' anyone else but..." He paused, searching his thoughts. "It's... Nice."

Merle stepped towards the bars, his eyes sweeping over his brothers profile. Steady and firm, his eyes filled with a grim determination.

Without waiting for a reply, Daryl turned heel and moved swiftly, his feet flying down the stairs and he disappeared from view. He distantly heard the Chinese... Korean... Whatver boy tell him that Rick was on watch outside.

"Good." Came his brothers voice, moving towards the doors that lead outside. The door that he himself wasn't allowed to step through. His brother was leavin' and there wasn't a fuckin' thing he could do abou' it. "I need ta blow off some steam."

The steps echoed and he was gone.

Merle ran a hand over his head, the short stubble prickling his fingers as he wheezed a quiet breath. An emotion he didn't want to name burst inside his chest, somethin' he'd been feeling more often then not now that they had come to this goddamn prison. An emotion he'd first felt when he saw his brothers hesitation to leave the group, when he saw how familiarly him and that damned cop had spoken.

He whirled, his foot lashing out and colliding painfully with the concrete wall, his mind clouded with jealousy. He bellowed in frustration, ignoring the way the conversation below turned silent as his temper overflowed.

"AW, FUCK Y'ALL!"

He threw himself down on to his meager mattress, his hands clenching furiously in the thin blanket he'd been provided.

Fuck em'. He'd done just fine alone before, he'd be alrigh' again.

He closed his eyes and tried to bury the empty feelings down where not even he could find him.

Because he definitely wasn't fucking lonely.

I was never a Merle fan but even I gotta admit... I got a whole new look on him after that episode "Home". The way he looked like he was going to cry when he saw those scars... Oh, my feels T.T

Anyways, there's going to be one more chapter of this, so keep a lookout. I'll try to get it out fast, which shouldn't be too hard since the Walking Dead fics seem to be going without an end in sight. There are just too many fascinating characters to play with here.