DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead or its characters. This is for entertainment purposes only.
NOTE: I am impatiently waiting for February for new episodes and I figured, why not make a little one shot out of the mid season finale. I'm beginning to think that maybe I should just stick to one shots all together. Reviews are much appreciated. Xoxo
UPDATE: This is no longer a one-shot. Obviously... Haha. :) Decided to try and continue it.
The sound of gunfire filled the air as the smoke was beginning to clear out. They were almost out of Woodbury, only a quick jog to the wall, up and over and they'd be out to safety. Or at least safer once they would be over the wall and out of sight.
Maggie ducked around the corner and shot off a few rounds. The five of them were huddled into a small doorway up against the walls for cover. Rick, Oscar, and Daryl checked their ammo situation as Maggie pulled back into the little nook.
"I'm running low. We're almost out, we'll just have to make a run for it," Maggie confessed. "We can't just stay here and keep firing at shadows."
"I agree. We've got another smoke bomb. It'll help cover us," Rick reloaded his M4A1, placing a few more rounds in the clip from out of his pocket.
Daryl glanced over at Glenn. He could tell he wasn't fairing too well, bloody and bruised propped up with his back against the wall. Daryl wished he could say it surprised him to hear that his brother had done this to Glenn. Honestly, the only thing that surprised him was the fact that Merle was here in Woodbury. It wasn't that he thought Merle was dead so to speak, he just didn't think he'd ever see him again. The bastard…
"I got more than enough rounds to lay down some cover fire. Any lil' bit to help get all of us outta here unscathed," Daryl shoved his clip back into his AKMS and held his hand out to Rick who held the Triple Chaser grenade. Rick stared at him and in that moment they had direct eye contact. Rick's eyes showed worry and relief. He was glad that Daryl was still on their side after everything.
Rick handed the smoke grenade over to Daryl and nodded, "Alright. Everyone stay close and stay in formation… " Rick placed his hand on Daryl's shoulder, "Thank you."
Daryl nodded. He waited for everyone to get behind him ready to run before he pulled the pin on the Triple Chaser grenade and tossed it out into the middle of the small town. As soon as the canister hit the black top smoke began to disperse and fill the air with a fog. He turned his head just in time to see Glenn and Maggie leading the way towards the wall as Oscar and Rick covered them, the four of them sticking close together.
Daryl kept his eyes peeled as he ran for cover behind an army-like SUV. He wondered how in the hell these people got a hold of something like that but he didn't have time to let his mind wander. He slipped around the edge of the large vehicle and shot a couple guys who were closing in through the smoke.
"RICK!"
Daryl's head whipped back at the sound of Maggie screaming. His eyes searched for Rick after he spotted Maggie standing on the hood of a vehicle, ready to hop over the wall. That's when he saw that Oscar was on the ground, seemingly dead. Daryl noticed Rick wasn't too far away from the wall, just a little ways further back than what Daryl was. He watched as Rick shot a guy down, walking over to look down at the body. Daryl wasn't sure what Rick was doing exactly. Now was not the time to sight-see and stare at the downed people of Woodbury.
Daryl turned back to laying down some more cover fire as he noticed some more men were beginning to close in. He missed them as they hid behind different objects and in different nooks and crannies, the smoke still wavering. With each shot Daryl took, the casing of the bullet flew back at him as the gun kicked back. The kickback was not an issue to Daryl though. He was thankful for using his crossbow for close to the past twelve months, his arms being able to take the strain.
"Daryl!" Rick called out. Daryl took a quick glimpse back as he crouched behind the SUV. Rick was standing on top of the vehicle getting ready to cross over the wall, Maggie and Glenn already in the clear. Rick was waving Daryl to come on.
"I'm comin'—Go!" Daryl yelled back at him. He checked his clip before he turned back to shoot at the two guys who had decided to finally come out from hiding. He nailed the one right in the chest as he watched him fall to the ground. Daryl double checked to make sure Rick climbed over the wall to safety and once he realized that he had, he felt relieved. Now all he had to do was make a run for it himself.
When Daryl looked back out at the town though, he immediately felt unnerved. Where the hell did all of these guys come from in such a short time? All he did was glance back to make sure Rick was over.
The only sound that filled Daryl's ears was the flight of bullets whirling through the air and his own pulse pounding in his head. He shot off a few more rounds while taking a couple steps back, dust and casings flying. He saw two more guys hit the ground. He didn't think he'd ever be shooting to kill other humans. He felt guilty but there wasn't much else he could do. It's not like they could have made a negotiation to release Glenn and Maggie and run off on their own free will.
It was just then that Daryl caught something moving from the corner of his eye. He wasn't able to react fast enough as he felt the butt of an assault rifle smash into the side of his face, instantly knocking him to the ground. He was just barely able to catch himself before smashing his face further, looking down at his hands and seeing double. He felt dizzy as he quickly tried to grab for his knife sheathed on his belt, just gripping onto the handle when he felt a strong hand grasp a hold of his wrist. He still tried to fight against it, trying to shake the guy off and gripping onto his knife even harder as he shut his eyes. The side of his face throbbed and he knew there was blood as he could feel the warm liquid begin to trickle down.
The knife was finally ripped from Daryl's grasp and tossed aside as he felt his crossbow being ripped from off of his back. He then felt a knee dig into him between his shoulders to keep him pinned to the ground. Daryl was furious in that moment as he tried to buck up, trying everything that he could to throw the guy. He couldn't shake him though as the guy still had a hold of him by his right wrist. His attacker brought his arm up high on his back and pulled, causing instant discomfort and stabbing pains in Daryl's right shoulder. He gritted his teeth and stopped trying to struggle in that moment. He felt like the guy was going to pull his arm out of its socket.
"Spread the word that we've caught one of the terrorists. I think the others got away."
Since Daryl had been pinned, he decided to take that time to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe that he'd been caught. He'd been foolish and this was the payback. He had every intention of making a run for it, making it back to the prison with Rick, Glenn, and Maggie. Regardless, he pushed the fear and pain down, shutting it all out. If he was going to make it out of here, he'd have to stay strong. He wasn't about to just bow down and let these bastards win. He wasn't going to give up without a fight. It was in his blood; fight or die trying.
"I wouldn't try anything if I were you. The more you try to fight, the more pain you're asking for," the guy that kept Daryl pinned spoke.
Daryl could hear the shuffling of feet all around him. If he didn't know any better, he'd bet the eyes of every person surrounding him were staring holes in the back of his head. There were a few hushed whispers and Daryl could hear the clicking of a zip tie being tightened around his wrists, binding them together behind his back. The zip tie was tight; any tighter and it would have been cutting off circulation. When he heard the sound of duct tape ripping he couldn't help but grin a little. These people apparently feared him if they didn't think the zip tie would hold. They were pretty smart.
"This is our terrorist?" The voice seemed to hold some type of authority. Daryl would almost bet it was this 'Governor' character. "I told Merle to get our people into the arena. I'm going to get everything under control."
Merle. His brother was close.
"You got my brother workin' for yer sorry asses?" Daryl snapped. His hands were now bound with a zip tie and duct tape as he was yanked to his feet. The guy who pulled him back to his feet still kept a firm grip on his forearm to make sure he didn't try anything. The sudden movement caused Daryl's head to slightly spin.
"Your brother?" The man with the authoritative voice stared at Daryl. He wore a white bandage that was a bit saturated with blood over his right eye. There was a slight smirk playing at his lips as he took a step closer, "You must be Daryl."
"What's it to ya?" Daryl growled. "What kind of narcissistic prick goes by the name 'Governor'?"
The so-called Governor grinned, "One that operates and controls the well-being of this town." He chuckled, "I can tell you're related. This should be fun."
Merle did as The Governor told him. He had everyone of Woodbury file into the arena as he waited for further instruction from Philip. Most of the people were outraged, yelling and screaming for something to be done. Those who weren't lashing out were cowering in a corner.
Before Merle could give the events that had occurred any thought, he saw Philip walking into the arena with Shupert following behind him. Merle stood off to the side and Shupert ended up standing not too far from him as Philip walked to the center. The people of Woodbury immediately hushed at the sight of him. Everyone was waiting to hear what he had to say about the attack.
"Now I wish I could explain to you the events that have happened here tonight," Philip paced around in the middle of the arena as he provided Woodbury with one of his speeches. "We were attacked, ambushed. I know I'm suppose to stand here and tell you all that you will be fine, that everyone will be safe and we can go on with our lives. But I can't just ignore this. We've lost people—good people to these terrorists that attacked us."
Merle gave it some thought. He wasn't stupid. That damn Asian boy and the girl were missing after the attack. He had a feeling the group that abandoned him in Atlanta—the group that held Officer Friendly—had been the ones to attack. Daryl was a part of that group. His baby brother had stayed with them all this time. Merle couldn't help but wonder which members of the group were just here, right here in Woodbury, right under everyone's noses.
"We were blind, but we won't make that mistake again. And I'm afraid. I'm afraid those terrorists want what we have. I'm afraid that they will want to destroy us, or worse," Philip paused. He took in the sight of the people who looked up to him as a follower, a leader. He took a quick glimpse at Merle before he looked away and continued, "One of those terrorists, is one of our own."
At those words, everyone was gasping in panic. Everyone began to look around at each other muttering inaudible words. If Philip kept at it, he'd easily have the town of Woodbury in shambles with people rioting and tripping over one another.
"Merle," Philip pointed a finger towards Merle, snapping Merle's attention back to the man in the middle. "The man I trusted. The man I counted on. And he led them here. He let them in. Look at what he has cost us. He lied and betrayed us all!"
Caesar stepped forward and took all of Merle's weapons, including his bayonet attachment. He placed them off to the side and pushed Merle forward as he hesitantly raised a gun to Merle's back. Caesar knew Merle wasn't a traitor. The fucking pussy…
Merle looked over at Shupert to see that he had a weapon raised at Merle, too: a crossbow.
A crossbow… But it couldn't be…?
Merle's stomach felt like it was twisted into knots. He watched as two men entered into the arena now with a man flanked between them, a bag over his head. Merle stared at the man as he watched him squirm and struggle, doing everything in his power to get away. They were practically dragging him. The man's hands were bound behind him with no way of fighting back.
They pushed the man towards Philip as he slightly tripped before Philip grabbed a hold of him by an arm, yanking him closer.
"This is one of the terrorists," Philip ripped the bag off of the man's head, "Merle's own brother."
Daryl fiercely shook his head as Philip removed the bag from his head. His breathing was heavy as he turned his head to look around at all of the people who were screaming in anger. His eyes searched among the faces and stopped when he locked eyes with Merle's.
Merle stared back at his baby brother in disbelief. It had almost been a year since they'd seen each other last but it felt much longer than that. He still looked about the same; the same scruffy look, the same dominant stance that hid any sign of fear. His hair was longer and he had lost weight, but he was still Merle's one and only little brother. Daryl was the only person Merle had left.
Merle wondered what Daryl was thinking of him at this very moment. Was it good? Bad? Were there even any good memories that were shared? There were plenty of memories that resurfaced at the sight of Daryl for Merle. One in particular that he liked to think was a good one…
Merle was eighteen at the time, and since he was technically a legal adult, he had dropped out of high school. He didn't see the point in it. What could those teachers teach him that he couldn't learn on his own? Those teachers couldn't teach him how to properly fight—that was something he had to learn on his own.
When Merle was at his worst, he felt ashamed of himself sometimes. He bounced back and forth between drugs, alcohol, and getting into fights with guys at the bar. He'd been to juvie a couple of times due to fights and stealing. But now he was trying to do his best to stay on top of things. He had just gotten a job at a local motorcycle shop. He had always been intrigued by automobiles and the like, and working there helped extend his knowledge.
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when he had finally decided to go home. He usually tried to stay at work late to avoid the inevitable. The only reason he didn't take off and leave completely was Daryl. He knew he could never leave his little brother behind, especially with their dad. He felt guilty leaving him at home by himself as it was, even though he usually went to school and was gone for almost half the day. Hell, he was proud of his baby brother for putting up with everything and still wanting to go to school. There had been plenty of times when Daryl hadn't been allowed because of visible bruises and cuts, and the boy was only ten.
Merle opened the old creaky front door and stepped into the house. It reeked of cigarette smoke and hard liquor, but that was an everyday occurrence. Merle set the keys to his truck down on a little table by the door as he glanced around for a moment. It was dead silent and that was an eerie feeling. Then there was a sudden outburst; their dad yelling about something. A sick sort of feeling suddenly washed over Merle as he noticed Daryl wasn't anywhere in sight.
Merle rushed towards the sound of their dad's angry voice, quickly realizing that it was coming from the bathroom. The door was slightly cracked as Merle pushed it open.
There he saw their dad crouched over the edge of the tub, Daryl underneath of him, as he held Daryl's head under the water. He could see Daryl's small bruised arms trying to pull and push his way free before slightly going limp, the air bubbles slowly dying down. Merle didn't even think—he didn't have time to think. He bolted, charging right at their dad and knocked him over and onto his side, hitting the hard floor with an audible thump. Merle quickly reached over and grabbed Daryl from around his waist and pulled him out of the water. Daryl immediately fell back into him, gasping and choking for air, as he spit water. Merle pulled him closer as he felt him shudder. It was in that moment that Merle knew their dad had come close to successfully drowning his little brother.
Their dad stumbled back to his feet with an angry scowl on his face. His eyes bored down onto the brothers with fury as Merle could feel Daryl grasp a hold of his shirt. Daryl pulled himself closer to Merle in that instant.
"The hell he do to deserve that?!" Merle snapped at their dad, hugging Daryl close.
"You watch yer mouth, ya little shit! Think ya can jus' do whatev'r the hell ya want?" their dad held onto the wall to keep his balance. It was obvious he was plastered.
Neither of the brothers said anything in return. Merle just stayed put with his back propped up against the wall by the sink, holding Daryl in his arms. Their dad finally broke the glare as he managed to walk towards the door. On his way out, Merle could see him lift his foot into the air. Merle had just enough time to shift, protecting Daryl, and taking a kick to his own side. Their dad muttered something under his breath as he finally exited.
"I'm so sorry—" Daryl cried out, "I shouldn'ta done what I did! I'm sorry... "
"Don't apologize. There ain't no need for that. I'm jus' fine," Merle reassured him, "You okay? What happened?"
"Y-Yeah," Daryl sniffled. "I was in my room and tryin' to do my homework 'cuz I'm behind. An' he said something about not having anymore. I don't know… He just grabbed me by my arm and drug me in here. I couldn't get away, Merle. I tried. I even tried ta do what you showed me to do. I jus' wasn't strong enough... "
Merle exhaled as he ruffled Daryl's hair, "Ya telling me I needa beat ya some more? Yer strong. Yer stronger than ye think." Merle paused as he stared down at his brother still curled up on his chest, "I'm jus' glad I got here when I did... "
He thought about it for a moment. Their dad most likely ran out of the stash that he had. That was the only thing Merle could think when Daryl said 'not having anymore'. Their dad became much more aggressive and strung out when he didn't have his supply of drugs on hand. Merle was actually a little relieved that he's as drunk as he was, otherwise he knew he would have received more than just a kick to his side.
"Me too... " Daryl mumbled as he hugged him, "Thank you, Merle."
"What should we do with them?" Philip's voice snapped Merle back from his memory. The people of Woodbury began to yell in return, chanting kill them, kill them!
Merle looked around at all of the people that he was once protecting. They took him in like he was one of them and this was the thanks he received. They were all so naïve and quick to believe any word that came out of Philip's mouth it made Merle sick.
Merle kept an eye on Philip as he began to near Daryl. When Philip was within arm's reach of Daryl, circling around him like a rabid wolf, Merle clinched his fist. He hadn't realized he took a couple steps forward until he felt Caesar and Shupert close in on him, the gun in his back and the crossbow wavering in the corner of his eye. Daryl's crossbow. If that sorry excuse for a man laid a hand on Daryl… Or perhaps he already had since Daryl was sporting a fresh cut on his cheek. Merle had to get them out of this. It was up to him, it was his responsibility to look after his little brother.
"Not so tough when your weapons are stripped from you," Philip stopped in front of Daryl, his face close to his.
Daryl stared back at the man with anger, his eyes narrowed. He didn't falter. That was something that made Merle feel proud. All these years he spent trying to make a man out of his little brother and this was the result. Daryl refused to show any sign of fear. He knew that he wouldn't let these goons capture him without a fight. It was a Dixon trait.
Philip smirked as he stared at Daryl, about a foot away. Daryl returned a fake little smirk himself just before he spit in his face. Philip took a step back gritting his teeth as he pulled a cloth from his back pocket. He wiped Daryl's saliva from his face as the rage began to build up.
He replaced the cloth back in his pocket and licked his bottom lip. Merle knew the sign; Philip was pissed. He was one person who was not too great at holding back his emotions—especially when it came to anger.
Philip formed his right hand into a fist and punched Daryl in the face. The force of the impact caused Daryl to stumble back a bit, shaking his head. The two men that had dragged him into the arena were now by his sides again. As Philip sent another punch flying towards Daryl's face, Daryl managed to just barely miss it, ducking right on time.
It was a few days later when Merle realized Daryl must have gone out into the woods for a bit. His little brother was always playing outside and Merle couldn't blame him. He walked quite a ways through the trees and underbrush as the birds sang overhead. The creek was in sight and Merle could see that Daryl was sitting just on the edge of it with his knees tucked under his chin. Daryl hadn't noticed him walking closer, so Merle took this as his opportunity.
Merle closed in the gap between him and his little brother as he tackled him, grabbing a hold of him by the back of the neck, and submerged his face under the water. Daryl struggled beneath him, choking.
"C'mon, baby brother! Ye gotta fight me!" Merle coaxed him. He slightly let up, allowing Daryl to breathe.
"I—can't—" Daryl choked out.
Merle pushed his head back down as he felt Daryl's hands grab onto his arm. "Don' go for my arm. Think, little brother. Think," Merle let him up again.
Daryl spit a mouthful of water out, "What am I suppose to do then?"
Merle continued his routine and once again pushed him down. This time he watched as Daryl tried to push off of the ground, his hands buried in the ground beneath him. "Don' act. Think. What're ye gonna do to get out?"
Daryl stopped struggling for a moment and when he remained stationary, Merle let up. But this time Daryl didn't move as he lay with his face still in the water. Merle placed his hand on his brother's shoulder just as Daryl suddenly bucked up and jabbed his elbow backwards, hitting Merle in the jaw. Merle fell back on his bottom as he fixed his stare on his little brother.
Daryl forced a tiny smile, "Did I do good?"
Merle grinned. He had pretended to pass out, which caused Merle to back off and release him. The boy was pretty smart after all.
"Yeah, ye little shit. Not half bad. 'Cept I wouldn' expect our old man to fall for that one considerin' he's always drunk," Merle punched Daryl in the shoulder. "Some words of advice: you ever get the chance to hit someone like that when yer bein' attacked, ye don' hold back. Ye elbowed me in the jaw. After that, ye should have hit me again. Ye can't be stunned yerself, ye gotta stun yer opponent."
Daryl nodded, his face slightly twisted in confusion as he looked like he was taking a mental note.
Merle chuckled, "C'mon, boy. S' go grab some lunch for yer victory lesson."
The two men grabbed Daryl by his arms now as Philip landed another punch to Daryl's face. But Daryl continued to give them a run for their money; he leaned back into the two men and kicked at Philip, though he happened to avoid it. Philip punched Daryl one last time in the face before one of the men holding him back kicked him in the back of the leg, making him drop to his knees.
With each hit Daryl received the people of Woodbury only seemed to cheer that much louder. These people were sick, mentally ill. How could they cheer for this? But Merle wasn't much better than them. Look at what he did to that Asian boy just moments before all of this happened. All because he wanted his brother and yet here he was.
"Philip—stop!" Andrea called out. She was also being held back from trying to help. But nothing seemed to break through to Philip. Not now.
Philip sent one swift kick to Daryl's ribs, causing Daryl to lean to the side slightly doubled over by instinct. He inhaled sharply as Merle could see his shoulders rise and fall with each quick, short breath. Merle could tell he was hurting but he was still keeping himself composed.
Kill them! Kill them!
Another kick to Daryl's ribs received the same reaction. Daryl struggled against the two men who held him still. He had his eyes shut tight as his breathing quickened. He spit down at his knees. He had no way of getting out of this now.
Just as Philip prepared to hit Daryl again, the words flew from Merle's mouth: "Leave 'im alone! It's me yer pissed at!—Git away from 'im!"
Philip stopped as he slowly turned his head to look over at Merle. Caesar and Shupert kept Merle back with weapons drawn on him. He walked closer to Merle with a slight grin on his face. He was amused, he was enjoying every minute of this. He pulled the cloth out of his pocket again, this time to wipe Daryl's blood off of his fists.
"Take him to the holding room," Philip instructed. He looked at Merle, "You're right. You wanted your brother. Now you got him."
I'd like to believe Daryl didn't get caught on purpose, and so… yeah. Thus concludes this little story. There were many ways I could have went with it and I just decided to stick with this one.
I could have continued it to where Daryl may or may not be saved. Poor Daryl… I figured I would stop it here before I could mess it up any more though, haha. Thanks for reading!