Oh no, what's Dad going to do? Can they get away in time? Or maybe he'll do nothing except yell at them but can a leopard really change its spots?
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Part 7 His Fault
But they were too late. Now they could hear their father's heavy slow steps coming up the stairs and Merle snaked his arm instinctively around his little brother's shoulders. Meanwhile, Daryl tried his best to relax – his muscles were tense again only after a few minutes' respite.
Merle entered fighting-mode mentally and prepared for a showdown but he was left dumbstruck when his father only scoffed instead of scolding them when he reached the top of the stairs mere feet away.
He looked like he'd been mellowed out by a drink or two down at Marty's on the way home and that's why he'd been gone so long. Luckily for them, he was merry so far but then again, he hadn't seen the door yet.
"And what are my two boys doin'? Why ain't you in bed, son?" He looked curiously at his younger boy.
Daryl let out the faintest little gasp of air to voice his distress at being singled out from the get go. The fact that it was a harmless question asked mildly didn't matter, he'd always hated being the centre of attention. Luckily only Merle heard him, causing him tighten his grip around his little brother.
Their dad was in a good mood but they both knew that wasn't going to last long and they were on tenterhooks until the bubble burst. Merle cursed himself for getting high and not getting him and Daryl out of there sooner. If only they had just a couple of more minutes...
Their hearts skipped a beat especially when they apprehensively witnessed the corners of their father's mouth slowly turning downwards as his eyes gradually focused on the door behind his two sons. His mouth set in a grim line and there was a silence so thick that you wouldn't have any trouble hearing a cotton ball hit the floor. It was only seconds long but it seemed to last an eternity to them.
"The door. Explain. Now." Their father's cold tone didn't even fail to give even the older brother a shiver down his spine. At the same time Merle felt Daryl's hand renew its shaking on him. "Why, pray tell, is the bathroom door hanging off its hinges?"
Merle quickly recovered and typically blurted out what first came to mind whenever he felt backed into a corner. No matter how stupid or unbelievable.
"It locked itself and I couldn't open it." He only had protecting Daryl on his mind and keep him out of it, quite an achievement for him to think straight enough to do this in his addled head.
Will wasn't quite as impressed though and he rewarded him by slapping him across the face. Hard. Merle just answered with an indifferent shrug.
'I don't believe ya. Do you really think I'd fall for "it locked itself?" Exactly how stupid do ya think I am?'
'Ain't weird for an old door to start playin' up!'
"And your first thought was to break it? Stupid boy, couldn't you just wait for me to come home and sort somethin' out?"
"Yeah but who knows when ya would have, huh? For all we know you could've pulled an all-nighter and we couldn't wait that long! Wouldn't be the first God damn time!"
"Ya better stop ya sassin' me, boy. Ya hear me? Otherwise I'll do more than jus' slap ya. You ain't too old for a good whippin'.'
Merle smiled and kept doing what he always did. Protecting Daryl as best he could. It was the least thing he could do for all the times he failed to be there for him lately - the flogging that had scarred him for life was always at the forefront of his mind. Better then for Merle to receive whatever their bastard of a father was planning on dishing out rather than Daryl.
All his efforts were all to no avail though as Will's eyes looked down at his youngest. "And I guess you couldn't find anything to help him open the door before he smashed it off its hinges?"
"Leave him out of it. He ain't got nothin' to do with it. 'Twas all me.'
"I beg to differ. Who was on the other end of that door? And don't you lie to me, boy!'
"Already told you, it locked itself while I was inside."
"Mm, then why is your little brother's hair wet then?'
How quickly their father got to the truth caught Merle off guard, but he thought it best not to deny it and add 'lying to his face' to his grudge-list. "He just had a shower, for fuck's sake.'
"Before or after the door broke itself?" Will's tone turned icily sarcastic.
"What difference does that make?"
"Answer the question!' He barked.
"After." Merle thought it best to lie at this point after all.
"So just now, then?"
"Yeah! So? What's the big deal?" Merle burst out, losing his cool composure at this relentless interrogation. Will looked far too pleased and this worried him because surely he knew something that they didn't or he'd caught them out somehow.
"Where's the steam and the wet floor? He loves standing under there for hours, using up all the hot water and costing me money!'
"Um..." Now Merle really was speechless and he hated that fact because it meant he was out of options of protecting Daryl with his lies that he thought were so clever. Now he realised that they weren't and he still couldn't outwit their father. He was still smarter, stronger and bigger than them and it felt like he always would be.
But Will wasn't looking at him, he was glaring at Daryl instead who shrank even further behind his brother. Merle reached behind him to stroke his arm reassuringly without even looking while Daryl took a deep, shuddery breath.
Will narrowed his eyes at this display of affection. He'd have to separate them...Little Daryl was never going to man up with a big brother like that always protecting him, not allowing Will to discipline him properly. No wonder he acted the way he did at times. Why was Merle touching him like that when he should be helping him toughen the boy up? Beat some sense into him?
Standing beside his brother, Daryl bit his bottom-lip thinking on how best to turn this situation around.
'Well?'
Now he was addressing Daryl directly and he was stumped on how to answer. Nothing he could say would get them both out of trouble but maybe he could blame himself... tell the truth and admit that he took too long in the shower again and Merle wanted to use the pisser because he'd been out drinking out all night? So he broke the door down because he couldn't get in there fast enough?
Or he could carry on insisting that the lock broke and he panicked, so Merle did what he had to do to get him out of there. Even that story would end up with him being punished twice for using the shower while their father was out and for being a pussy and getting scared when he realised he was locked in. Merle would still get it in the neck for what he did for him. Either way, however he tried to spin it, they were both neck-high deep in shit. "Well, I was in the shower when the door got stuck." He finally confessed.
'Finally, the truth.' Their father muttered darkly.
'Sh...Don't say no more.' Merle told him. 'Let me do the speakin', baby brother.'
'No, ya let your brother speak, Merle. If you know what's best for ya...And then what?' When there was no answer, he sighed as he waited for one. 'What's the matter, son? Cat got your tongue?" '
"Shut up Dad, jus' give him a minute!"
Daryl wasn't sure if it was the fact that Will let that disrespect from Merle slide that fooled them into thinking that he wasn't really that angry. Or that he actually gave him time to answer.
'Merle wanted to take a piss and I... I got out to open the door and let him in and..'
'And you couldn't open it?'
'No...Lock jammed or somethin'.'
'This must have all taken a good while since there's no trace of the shower you took except for that ya hair's wet. You two had a nice, cosy chat once the door crashed down, that it?' He glowered at the smaller boy, his meaning clear.
Daryl tensed up at what that implied. His father must think he spilled the beans to his big brother…
For a moment he completely lost track of what he was about to say and stayed silent for longer than Will had the patience for. He jumped nearly a mile up in the air when his father's palm struck the wall near him with a loud slap.
"And...and when I tried to open the door I couldn't. So...Merle kicked it in for me."
'He did, did he? Why'd ya lock it in the first place? Ain't no-one here except for ya father and your brother.'
'I...I...' Daryl spluttered, not even knowing what he was going to say.
'Nah...' His father crooned knowingly at him with a triumphant smirk twisting his lips. 'Ya were lookin' forward to havin' one of those famous shower marathons of yours, I bet...'Cos you knew I was out, no doubt and didn't want to be disturbed if me or Merle showed up earlier than you'd like.' Now Will's voice was rising in anger.
Daryl took a step back in alarm. 'I...I weren't in there long. I swear!'
Will snarled and made a grab for him but he was partly blocked by Merle and he gave up. 'Your idea of a long time ain't the same as mine, boy! And stop hidin' behind ya brother. Ya know how much that pisses me off!'
'I'm sorry, dad...' Daryl was really terrified now and looked up at his brother in appeal.
'Leave him alone.' Merle shoved his brother further behind him to better shield him, he knew that answering back to their father was one of the things that got him really mad. 'So what if he did stay in there a little longer? Ain't a crime. Besides, I told ya it was all my fault. I was the one who broke the door.'
'So, you broke the lock and ya big brother broke the door, tryin' to get to ya, that about right?'
'Yeah...' Daryl's voice was small.
'Why couldn't ya wait until I got back?'
'I panicked, there was no way out and I felt like I couldn't breathe...'
Will snorted in disbelief. He knew he couldn't get round his eldest to get at him, though. His 16 year old was almost Will's height – was becoming a man. He wasn't quite as broad though but he was filling out, and when his mind was set on keeping them apart, there was usually nothing Will could do about it unless he planned to knock Merle unconscious. However, he could punish them both at the same time if he played his cards right – and his scheme was all coming together in the oldest Dixon's head as he pretended to back off.
'I'm right, ain't I?' He sighed in apparent resignation.
"Yeah. We're sorry, Dad." Merle chimed in, clearly glad that this wasn't going to end in bloodshed this time. It was just a door, after all.
Will noticed Merle slightly relax at his sudden change of mood and smiled secretly to himself because the boy was wrong, oh...so wrong.
He had a hard time keeping the gleeful smile off his face as he looked at his sons back and forth before he added: "Oh well... That stupid old door needed changing anyway. I admit I wanted to save money – that's why I never took care of it. But now ya gone and done ripped it almost out of the wall...half the job done already. But you gonna pay for the new one, ya hear me, Merle?'
"What? Yeah - sure.' He agreed immediately, distracted but relieved that this was all it came down to. 'Ya ain't mad?" Yet Merle's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as he tried to scrutinise their Dad's poker-faced expression. But their Dad sounded like he meant it to their ears.
"Nah, shit happens. It's really late, ya better get your asses back to bed, both of you. Don't know what you're doin' up at this hour..."
Both brothers were too dumbstruck to think any more of it and only too happy to scramble to their bedrooms to notice the sadistic glint sparkling to life in Will's eyes and when he turned to walk down the stairs, he did so with a bright smile that didn't reach them.
"That wasn't so bad, huh, little bro?" Merle said to Daryl on the landing before they parted ways.
"Nah... I told ya he's changed."
"You don't really believe that though."
"Yeah, I do! Ya should too!'
"Then why were ya hidin' like that behind me?'
"Old habits die hard, I guess."
Merle's chest ached on hearing his little brother speak like that. Bitter words that were not fit leaving a mere 11 year old kid's mouth, but he was right nonetheless. Merle shoo'd him to bed, told him to hide his bag ready under the bed so their dad wouldn't see what they planned to do, just in case he was wrong. He did the same when he got to his room and shut the door behind him.
He fell asleep almost immediately and therefore failed to hear the lock turn and click into place. He would have been surprised and not a little alarmed if he had, he'd lost that key years ago and didn't know there was a spare. He would have been even more disturbed if he'd known that his father had been saving it all that time just for something like this.
When he first opened his eyes and slowly came to out of dreamland, his ears slowly registered the distinct sound of Daryl desperately crying out for him. At first he was wondering if he was still asleep and in the throes of a nightmare. But it didn't take long when he heard his Dad's voice booming over his brother's, ordering him to keep his mouth shut, to strip him rudely of that illusion.
Just like that, he was wide awake again and he rolled out of bed immediately.
Their dad had just played them both. He'd wanted to believe Daryl so much that he'd changed for the better, but part of him always knew that would never happen. That it was impossible.
'I'm comin', Daryl!' He yelled back although his brother's cries for help had ceased and painful as they were to listen to, this development worried him more.
He was stunned when he tried to open the locked doorand it wouldn't budge. He swore and cursed in confusion. 'What the fuck...?'
He hissed at feeling the familiar squeeze of panic gripping his heart and he attacked the door in much the same way he'd done the bathroom door. The one that had caused all the damn trouble in the first place but then again, that one had been worn out. This one was made of oak and strong, he feared that it wouldn't budge and he wouldn't get out of there fast enough to spare Daryl more pain than he'd already been subjected to. He forced himself to block out his visions of what the bastard was doing to him right that moment while he was trapped, unable to stop it in his own room.
'You promised me, you little shit! Promised you wouldn't tell!' Dad's voice quivered with anger right before there was a loud thump.
'Stop!' Merle screamed even as he stupidly tried to twist the door-handle again and again. He could hear that he delivered every word he'd snarled with an accompanied blow but no sounds from Daryl except him yelling back: 'Dad, I didn't! I didn't want him to see my back – I tried to cover it up but it was too late!'
'I don't believe ya! Ya showed him, didn't ya? Ya go whinin' to him like a little pussy, that it?'
'NO!' Now Daryl sounded angry, despite everything, making Merle smile with pride even in his fear for him.
'Why ya still lyin' to me?' Merle's hand subconsciously went to his own cheek as his brother was backhanded across his face, the undeniable echo told Merle just how hard that slap had been.
'I'm not lyin' dad, you're not listening!' The open hand had clearly turned into a fist, shortly followed by Daryl tumbling into something.
'Stop Dad! It's true! He tried to hide his back from me, but I made him show me!'. Merle shouted.
As usual their father couldn't hear in his fury or more likely, was ignoring him. Either way, there was no answer but at least there seemed to be a pause between blows.
'Never knew what's good for ya, that's your problem. Well I'll show ya. Don't ya worry.' He resumed the relentless beating and his fists were clearly raining down on his helpless brother in a regular pattern without any signs of stopping. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
'Stop it, ya fuckin' coward!' He yelled again through the wall. 'It was all my fault, ya hearin' me, ya bastard? My fault! Take it out on me, not him!'.
'Merle!' Daryl screamed.
No answer from Dad of course and no let-up in the blows what so ever.
Meanwhile inside the damn walls of his room, Merle started to smash his shoulder against the solid wooden door – hearing those fists hit home each time making him more frantic as he redoubled his efforts. Even so, he couldn't stop his body from flinching each time those hard unforgiving knuckles hit already bruised flesh and bone.
'Please don't!' He heard his brother cry. Now he was whimpering each time afterwards and begging their father for forgiveness for telling him about the scars. Something he hadn't even done. A bad sign that he had long given up his Dixon dignity in his desperation for it all to stop. Merle knew that Daryl would refuse to give the asshole the satisfaction of hearing him scream or beg for mercy as long as he could.
It must be real bad and he was dreading seeing the state of him if he ever escaped.
Suddenly there was total silence which was the most alarming of all. The eerie silence seemed to last hours not minutes if his panicked state of mind was anything to go by and he didn't think about what it might mean. 'Daryl, ya OK?'
No answer.
'Fuck!' He screamed again in fury directed at another door now as he gave it some of his best shots, but he knew it was useless, it was solid.
Then, he cursed his own stupidity – he always had the window, why hadn't he thought of it before? Because it was pretty high, and he would probably end up with a broken bone or two if he just jumped out but even that was better than imagining what their father was doing to his brother. Ominously, there was still no sound.
Merle gave up on trying to kick the door open when his brother started to sob. He knew it took quite a lot for that to happen, and that was all he needed to open the window and leap out of it.
He knew he'd be no good to Daryl with a broken leg or ankle so he clung to the gutter-pipes lining the side of the house instead.
Hanging suspended like that in the air, he saw with relief that he didn't have far to go to the roof above their front door. Why hadn't he tried this before when he was younger to escape his father's rages? Then he let go without even blinking and just as he predicted, everything went just fine and he landed on the ground on feet that were tingling from the harsh landing. He hardly felt them though as he yanked open the front door, thanking some higher power that the bastard hadn't locked that one too. After all, in their village, everyone knew everyone else so thieving from your neighbour was immensely dumb as well as dangerous.
Knowing that he couldn't really afford a second to spare but doing it anyway, he opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet by the main door and drew out their dad's gun and weighed it in his palm for a second. Right then, remembering his brother's pleas for mercy, his false confessions – Merle felt furious enough to kill the old bastard.
Without taking so much time to breathe, he ran up the stairs as fast as he could and burst in to Daryl's bedroom. He could hear his brother screaming in pain – a different and more desperate sound this time and a hissing, sizzling sound he knew all too well reached his ears ringing with adrenaline. He'd been willing to bet all his money their dad was putting his cigarette out on his brother.
Just as he expected, that's exactly what he was doing while he straddled him. Daryl was writhing in agony on the floor, trying to get away. His brother could see his battered face and the bruises in the shape of fists all long his back and sides without any problem.
"Get your fucking hands off him, dad!" He trained the gun on their father, taking in the scene before him.
Their Dad turned around from where he was now standing over the bloody form of Daryl lying on the bedroom carpet. He didn't even look surprised to see Merle there holding his own pistol in his hand. He smiled at him in triumph before he tossed the cigarette he'd put out on his brother in the corner. From where he was, Merle could see at least a couple of freshly made circular burn-marks on Daryl's back. More scars, he sighed to himself. Meanwhile, his brother just buried his face into the carpet and sobbed, his small shoulders shaking.
'Come on now, ya know you deserve this. Don't try to guilt-trip me, boy.' He turned Daryl around so he was lying on his back then, drawing another cry of pain from him when the rough carpet scraped against his injuries. Merle, already furious, went absolutely livid as he took the black and purple mess of Daryl's face in properly for the first time.
'Have ya completely lost it?' He bellowed as his hand nervously went up to rake through his short hair. 'Look at him, ya piece of crap! Look at what ya done!'
Will looked down at the sobbing boy who still didn't dare to move a muscle and studied his handiwork with chilling indifference before he looked back at Merle. 'You just shut ya mouth, Merle. This is at least half your fault. Does it feel good, son? Knowing you're one reason why I'm teachin' that lying little sissy brother of yours how to show his father respect and not to lie to his elders?'
Daryl stirred and groaned then. Merle could see that he was trying to open one half-swollen eye in his battered face. When he could focus his one eye on his big brother, he gasped and reached out to him with one shaky hand, ignoring their father completely. Bad move – this seemed to enrage Will who was just then taking notice of the gun aimed at him and smirked before he turned around and punched Daryl right back down again.
'What did I tell ya? Show me some respect, boy!'
Daryl only gave a soft little sound of pain in response, too tired to even hit back with a typical snarky Dixon reply. He was finally broken – Merle realised to his dismay. He'd been momentarily frozen while this was going on but then he came back to life. "God damnit! Stop it! You're killin' him!"
"Oh no, just teaching him a lesson that's been a long time comin'."
'I mean it, touch him again and I'll fuckin' kill ya, Dad. Get the fuck away from him.'
Will turned around completely then and Merle flinched at the hate and anger in his eyes, wondering how much a person could carry within them without the poison destroying them completely. Merle felt incredibly uneasy at this train of thought but at least he wasn't hitting Daryl anymore, he noted to his immense relief. Just as he was thinking this though, their dad suddenly grabbed Daryl by the collar of his bloodied pyjama-shirt and shook him, when no response came he backhanded him across his face to wake him up. As if he hadn't had enough already. Wake him up for what? Merle thought, he had gotten what he wanted from Daryl, a confession, broken him so that he begged for mercy in the end, what more could he possibly want? Unless he wanted him to be awake and feel all the pain. Merle shook his head in disbelief at how sadistic their father was being at the moment but why did he expect anything different? He'd been exactly the same with him when he was younger. A shiver went through Merle when Daryl's body almost seemed lifeless to him in the bastard's grip but he was just mercifully unconscious.
Will let him slump to the floor then and turned to face his other son who was still aiming a gun steadily at him. "I've been waitin' to ask you where the hell ya get the nerve to aim my own gun at me, son.'
'How I got the nerve?!' Merle spat and took a step closer to them.
'Better not leave here with it.'
"Get away from him. Now. I fuckin' mean it, old man.'
"Ahh...ya ain't got the balls to shoot me, boy." He crooned over at him.
"Wanna push me and see?"
He tried to look past their father's body to see if he had any broken bones on top of everything else but their Dad was in the way and besides, he couldn't really tell without examining him properly. Nevertheless, Merle could tell by his rapid, wheezy breathing alone that he was in really bad shape. He might even have a few cracked ribs.
"I'm done with him anyway - jus' get him out of my sight.' Will gave him one last passing look of scorn and Merle could tell that he was fighting a powerful urge to give him one more parting kick before he let them go. Merle snarled at him in warning and didn't stop following him with his gun – he didn't put it past the old bastard to turn the tables on them again somehow.
'I mean it.' Will turned back to glare back at them with those hate-filled eyes. 'I want the both of ya out of my sight. Maybe not having you ungrateful, snotnosed little bastards around here for a while will do me some good."
"You kickin' us out?" Merle knelt down beside his battered brother and touched him gingerly, still prudently keeping the gun on their father while he did it. Daryl groaned but otherwise didn't stir.
"I am. Fed up with the both of ya and ya sassin' me."
"We'll go gladly. The fuckin' gift of the century, thanks Dad!' Cheery sarcasm was heavy in his voice. 'No, seriously, we s'posed to get upset 'bout that?" Merle snarled as he went back to training his weapon on their father, while he crouched protectively over his fallen brother.
'Ya heard me. Only since ya brother's badly hurt, I'm gonna be generous and give ya...oh...five minutes to get out of this house.. And leave my gun by the front-door if ya don't want me to come after ya.'
Merle knew that he meant that threat but surprisingly, he didn't care and he didn't bother to reply. In response, he lowered the weapon slightly to aim it at the middle of their father's back until he was completely out of sight and he could hear him go back downstairs.
Then he was able to fully focus on Daryl for the first time.
"Come on, ya heard him.' Merle was pretty sure that Daryl hadn't, he was mercifully passed out. But he could at least try to pretend their father didn't just beat his 11 year old brother unconscious. He could talk to him like everything was normal, at least until they got somewhere safe, couldn't he?'
He lightly tapped the least swollen side of his face to rouse him and when he did, his kid brother's breath hitched in his chest:
'N...No. Please Dad...I'll be good...' He pleaded.
'Sh...It's me, Merle. He's gone.'
'It hurts...' He groaned and winced when he tried to get up.
'I know, I know. I'm so sorry...'
'That's OK.' Daryl looked up at him with one eye shining and Merle didn't understand for the life of him how he didn't blame him for what had happened.
'Up ya get, little brother. Ain't doin' ya no good lyin' on the floor gatherin' dust is there?" He joked. It was a pititful attempt to lighten the situation even if Dadhad only given them a few minutes to get out. Of course his stupid joke fell flat and Daryl didn't laugh like he normally would have done if he hadn't been in so much pain because he always laughed at his jokes, no matter how lame. Grunting with the effort instead, he caught his outstretched hand in his own and squeezed it to try and hoist himself up.
"No, you little idiot, I'm supposed to do the heavy liftin', jus' lay back and relax."
"Hurts." He moaned and Merle badly wanted to console him but not knowing for sure where he was hurt, he didn't dare touch him. His pyjamas – except for the shirt which the bastard had rolled up to burn him concealed more bruises that he guessed were there.
"I know, I know it does. Come on. I don't jus' want to grab you. Ya got to help me like ya jus' did. Fucking hell, ya ain't seen the damage that asshole's done to ya this time...Wish I'd killed him for ya.'
His little brother's lower lip trembled and he looked away and Merle could tell he was on the verge of tears.
'Fuck it and fuck him.' Daryl hissed, wiping his eyes. 'Let's get out of here before he comes back.'
