This one was a request from zombieslayer5. Enjoy C:
Rated for language.
Note; im not sure how far apart in age daryl and merle are so I just took a guess.
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"Git over here, boy." Merle barked, his gaze falling on the grubby twelve year old Daryl who was crouching in the dirt, intently staring at two bugs as they crossed paths, twitching and slithering around each other. His head jerked up when he heard his older brother yelling, eyes wide with fear.
What have I done now? He wondered. Daryl scrambled over warily, keeping a good few feet back from Merle as he looked up at him.
The two boys were five years apart, and it was obvious. Merle, at seventeen, stood at nearly six feet, and although he had a wiry frame, muscle wrapped around it. Watery blue eyes stood out from a hard face that had no hair covering it, nor any on his head.
Daryl, on the other hand, was a head shorter, and skinny was a wraith. His body held no muscle, but bone stuck out from torso due to lack of nutrition. His hair was a tangled, scraggly mess the color of bramble on top of his head. His face was covered in grime, and he squinted up at his brother in the sunlight.
"Let's go." Merle turned and strode off; assuming Daryl would follow him into the forest that was their backyard. Daryl half ran, half walked behind his older brother, struggling to climb over the branches and rocks and roots that stuck up from the ground.
"Where we goin'?" He asked. His brother had his hunting gear strapped to his back, so Daryl assumed they were going to catch something. What he couldn't understand was why he was going with Merle. He didn't know how to hunt; he would just scare off game.
"Shut up and hurry up." Merle snapped over his shoulder, eager to get where he was going. They travelled for a few more minutes in silence before Merle came to a sudden stop, so sudden, in fact, that Daryl very nearly ran into him. Merle threw an arm out to stop his brother from wandering farther and at the same time, pulled his crossbow off his back and knelt down. Daryl eyed the crossbow with a mixture of fear and awe. He knew Merle had saved money from his logging job for months to buy a proper, good quality crossbow, but he had also seen his brother practicing with it against the trunk of a tree in their backyard, and knew just how deadly it was.
The younger Dixon brother was literally dragged back to reality as Merle tugged roughly on his arm, gesturing him down into a kneeling position and pointing silently through the bushes. Peering around him, Daryl saw a large buck, the biggest he had ever seen, standing in a clearing, grazing peacefully. It's antlers were large and beautiful in the morning light. He looked at Merle, who placed a finger on his lips and, to Daryl's immense surprise, handed him the crossbow. He then nudged him forward, giving him a clear shot, and leant down to whisper into his ear.
"Now, you listen, boy, an' you listen good. You're old enough to hunt now, an' I ain't gonna leave my brother to fend for hisself when I'm gone, so you better hit this damn deer." Daryl nodded, starting down the bow at the deer, and lined up the shot. Merle's hot breath was in his ear, and he could feel the pressure. No matter how much his brother and him fought, no younger brother can repress the urge to impress the elder.
So he closed his eyes, expelled his breath, cleared his mind, and opened them.
The buck was in his line of sight, ready to shoot.
Daryl released the arrow.
The buck fell over, dead without a sound.
"Fuck, yeah!" The younger Dixon jumped up, ecstatic, and ran over to inspect his work. The buck had taken the arrow right in the eye, the shot going directly to it's brain and killing it instantly. Merle didn't even berate his younger brother for his language, instead he just stood up and watched his kin proudly.
"Did you see that, Merle?" He half shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Merle chuckled as he hollered back;
"I sure as shit did, boy! Come on, you hit it an' jus' this once, I'm gon' help you carry it back. But after that, you gotta do it yourself." Daryl nodded elatedly, not really hearing his brother as he came over and hauled the massive buck onto his shoulders. Blood was pounding through his veins, his head was spinning, he had made the damn shot. He felt on top of the world right now, nothing could stop him, nothing could drag him down. He was Daryl Dixon, twelve year old hunter, warrior, man.
"Well come on now! You just gonna stand there all day with yer head in the clouds?" Merle demanded lightly, already walking away. Daryl practically skipped after him, stopping to pick up the crossbow he had dropped in his excitement. His older brother hummed something as they walked back, the sun now high in the sky. It was an old country tune, something his mother had taught both of them before she passed. It was a song of joy, of nights spent around a fire, with not much to eat, but with each other. Daryl hadn't heard it from Merle since he didn't even know when.
"Merle?"
"What?"
"Why did we hit the buck? Why not a squirrel or something?" Merle turned to look down at his brother, cerulean gaze once again boring into his.
"If ya don't start from the top, you'll never make it anywhere. Now ya shot this here buck, ya know how to hit the big prey. Birds, rodents, they're useful, but hittin' em'll come with practice. Hitting a buck… that takes skill." And with that, he headed on. Daryl stood, dumbfounded for a moment at his brother's honest words, then shrugged and ran after him, content with life for the moment, happy that his brother was with him, protecting him, teaching him, and even if he didn't always show it, loving him.
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Hope you all enjoyed C: I take requests, please r&r if you liked. Cheers!