Daryl was about six. Merle wasn't home. He didn't think their dad would be there for weeks. But he came home early and beat the living shit out of Daryl. He was able to crawl to him and Merle's room and he hid in the closet. Their dad left and Merle came home.

"Daryl" he put his stuff down in the kitchen "Daryl I brought home pizza! Crappy gas station pizza but pizza"

Then he looked in the corner and saw a small pool of blood. There was some smeared on wall too. He went over there and saw Daryl's sweatshirt with a little blood stain on it. He picked it up and then he dropped it.

"Daryl!" He ran to their room. The closet door was open a little. He ran up to it and saw Daryl curled up in the corner. "Daryl" he whispered. He crawled into the closet with him and pulled him into his lap. He almost woke up. Thank god, hes just unconscious. He grabbed an old shirt off the floor and wiped the blood of Daryl's face. His eyes opened a little.

"Merle? "

"I'm here don't worry"

He pushed Merle's hand away from his face.

"What'd he do to you, baby brother?"

"He threw me at the wall and I hit my head. Then he just punched my face"

"You make it sound like its not bad"

"Well he shot me before remember? "

"Yeah I remember"

He wanted to tell Daryl about the pizza because he thought he looked too skinny. But then he remembered that all six year olds look like that. He probably didn't want any anyways. They heard their dad come back.

"Merle! "

"Sh, sh, sh, sh you stay here, I'll deal with him"

"No no dont go! Please Merle stay please!"

"No Daryl I'm going so he doesn't hurt you"

"He already did!"

"Which means he could kill you, and I'd rather it be me!"

He grabbed Merle's shirt. "Merle" he was whining

"Just stay safe"

He nodded and let Merle go. He went into the living room and saw his dad looking through his stuff for money. Then he saw him.

"Daryl ain't where I left him"

Merle didn't respond.

"You move him?"

"No sir"

"So you're telling me that he ran away, that little bastard, well when he comes home, give him the message that I'm gonna kill him."

Merle's fists clenched. "I hate you"

"Yeah you too" Then he saw the blood on Merle's shirt. "He's in that goddammed closet isn't he?"

"No"

"Liar!" He stood up and started to head toward their room. Merle punched him hard and broke his nose. Then he shoved Merle into a wall and he felt his brain bounce around in his head. Great a concussion. He jumped onto his dad and they just beat each other. His dad left, happy hour was almost over. Merle laid there trying to catch his breath. He spit up some blood then went back to Daryl. He looked up at his big brother.

"He made you bleed too?"

He nodded. Daryl reached for him and he sat next to him. Daryl wiped away Merle's blood with his little six-year-old hand. Then he leaned on him and fell asleep. Then Merle fell asleep too.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple pieces of cold pizza. He went back into the closet and woke up Daryl.

"Daryl get up so you can eat"

He looked up at him and laid against the wall again.

"Come on, whats wrong"

"I dont feel good"

Merle felt his forehead, he had a fever. So he just went to the kitchen and put the pizza back. He came back to the closet to Daryl in a pool of vomit.

"Daryl go to the bathroom so I can clean this"

He lifted him up and sent him to the bathroom. He grabbed a bottle full of febreeze and bleach mixed. Daryl called it febreach. He cleaned up the puke and then he went into the bathroom and saw Daryl sitting on the toilet leaning over the sink. Merle picked him up and stood him up on the toilet and he peeled his puke filled shirt off so he could clean it. He threw it in the washer and went back to check on Daryl. He found him in a new puddle of throw up. This time all over his pants.

He sighed "Take your pants off so that dont go through and ruin your underwear"

He took off his pants and Merle took those to throw in the washer and then went back up to clean the floor. Instead he threw up in the sink. Daryl was crying in the corner. Merle washed out his mouth.

"What's wrong"

"Dad makes my tummy hurt"

"No your concussion makes your tummy hurt"

"Same thing"

"Guess so"

"Can you kill him?"

"Who dad?"

"Yeah"

"One of these days baby brother, one of these days"

But honestly he didn't kill their dad til Daryl was fourteen.