Disturbances

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead belongs to AMC, not me. I just own the story

Pairings: None

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse/violence, a pinch of fluff

~OoO~

He didn't jump when he heard someone yelling. It made his eyes open groggily, have him sit up and glare at the door, as if it had something to do with all the noises but it didn't startle him one bit. After being in this house for all of his life, Merle was used to hearing all the pained screams of his mom, hearing her yelp and cry out as his father snap and beat her mercilessly over whatever the hell she did.

There wasn't anything he could do to break it up now. There was nothing he can do, can't do anything but just listen to his mother suffer. And even if he did try to calm things down, he would just end up in the same position as his mother was at the moment and he's got the old bruises and scars on his entire body to prove it.

No way in hell was he going to make the same, dumbass mistake again...

With an annoyed growl, Merle laid back down to his bed, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling. Great, now he couldn't sleep, all because of all of that damn ruckus going on downstairs. He wondered what they were arguing about now. It was either about not having enough money to pay for the bills, why there wasn't no food in the fridge or why one of them didn't go to work, why Merle got detention for the umpteenth time...just petty shit like that and whatever it was, it was preventing him from sleeping. Merle was too exhausted from being out in the woods with his father most of the day, still learning how to track and hunt.

The young boy eyed at his door again when he heard it creak. He narrowed his eyes in irritation when he noticed that it was just his damn baby brother coming inside his room.

"Daryl, what the hell you doin' outta bed?" Merle asked, sitting up again as he glared at the little toddler.

Daryl had a thumb up in his mouth, his big blue eyes staring up at his brother as he held an old, raggedy looking teddy bear in his other hand. It was given to him by Ma just a few weeks after he was born. It was one of the things that made him happy.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Can't sleep. Mommy and daddy make too much noise. Scary noise."

"So cover yer ears. Ya won't hear a thin'." Merle suggested.

The younger Dixon child shrugged again. Shrugging his shoulders had always been a small habit whenever he was asked a question by someone. Where he even got it from was a mystery.

"Did that a'ready. Still noisy." Daryl muttered. He jumped when he heard something crash and shatter on the ground, followed by a loud thud and just as he was about to go out and see what was going on, he was grabbed the shoulder by Merle.

"Don't go out there." He said, gripping onto his little brother's shoulder tightly.

"But...Mommy's probably hurt. Want to help her."

"Ya see what Pa did to me when I tried to help her last time, right?"

Daryl glanced at the ground, thinking deeply into his thoughts before he shrugged again, shaking his head.

"I got hurt, dummy. Real bad and I got the markings to prove it." Merle firmly stated, moving his hand off of his brother." So unless ya want to get yer ass kicked by Pa, I suggest ya keep yer butt in here until everything calms down."

Daryl nodded, closing the door quietly. He sniffled as he held his stuffed animal with both arms, tears starting cloud his vision and Merle had the urge to roll eyes in annoyance.

"Now, don't start that shit with me, Daryl. It's why I gotten beaten by Pa. Tearin' up ain't gonna change a damn thing. Dixon men don't cry, ya hear me?" Merle poked Daryl a bit harshly in the chest. "Repeat it after me. Dixon men don't cry."

The young child wiped his snot and tears with his sleeve, sniffling. "Dixon men...don't cry..."

Merle nodded once. "Right." He turned and laid back on the bed, noticing that the the sounds of their parents' fighting and yelling had finally died down. All they could hear now was his Ma's muffled sobbing and crying.

Merle just sighed deeply.

"Ya comin' up here or ya jus' gonna sleep on the floor all night?"

Merle felt the bed shift and creak when his little brother hopped on it, crawling over to his side and nuzzled next to him, his teddy bear laying between them.

Nothing was said from either brother for a few minutes, besides the soft, almost inaudible sounds of Daryl's breathing before he finally broke it.

"Will they ever stop fighting, Merle?" He asked. "Will..things get better?"

"Doubt it." The older brother muttered back, his eyes getting heavy only for them to be snapped open again when he heard Pa screaming at Ma again. The whole arguing started all over again and he heard Daryl sigh deeply as well. "I really, really doubt it."

All he wanted to do right now was to block everything out. Every sound, every voice, even every whisper. He just wanted to mute it all right now, just so he could have a quiet, good night's sleep for once. Daryl was probably thinking the same thing, too.

END

A/N: Yay, my first kid fic! But, it had to be a rather sad one, though. No yay :C

In my head, Merle is about 9 years older than Daryl. In this story, Merle is 12 years old while Daryl is 3. And kid/toddler!Daryl shrugs a lot when he's being asked a question. I don't know why, but it just sounded cute to me :/

Anyways..hope ya'll liked this. :D