I think this was a relatively good chapter, and a nice quick(for me at least) update. It's decently long and everything, so enjoy. Reviews honestly make me want to write more, so if you have the time just send one in. You're choice of course.
Disclaimer: Of course I do not own anything.
Warnings: Strong Abuse Trigger, Breakdowns, some language, and general Merle/Daryl banter.
Daryl was sixteen; he was still on the small side comparatively to his father and Merle, even though he hadn't seen the latter in around a year. He didn't want to admit that he'd been counting. It was around ten o clock; Daryl had been out hunting until he decided it was probably too dark. He walked into his house, as quietly as he could manage. It didn't matter as he saw his father sitting in the living room with his friend. Daryl shuddered, the man, Nick, he never liked him, but this was the first time he found him in his house. The man's eyes were cold and he always managed to wear wife beaters and leather jackets, a little too similar to his father for comfort.
They both eyed him as he walked inside, shutting the door behind him. Daryl thought momentarily about leaving and sleeping outside tonight, it was cold though and he wasn't sure it was even safe for him to be out there in this weather. He wasn't surprised as he saw the numerous bottles of beer surrounding the men, only a few left full. He flinched at their loud guffaws, in some unheard joke; he sauntered off to the kitchen to get himself something to eat.
He rummaged through the kitchen, grunting at the lack of food. He found a bag of chips, decided it would have to do and sat down shoveling his face with food. He listened to the men joke and laugh; their sinister words were cruel and uncaring. He didn't want to admit he was scared, knowing Nick wouldn't be bothered to care. Daryl ran over things in his mind, trying to remember if anything he'd done lately would've gotten him in trouble.
Daryl finished the bag of chips after a while, the conversation in the living room had died, and he was hoping that they were both passed out. He threw the bag carelessly in the trash, walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room, looking over at the scene. His father was passed out and didn't seem to be waking up anytime soon, Daryl glanced at the other man who was casually drinking a bottle and eyeing him.
Daryl shuddered, he hoped not visibly, as he tried to walk faster to his room, he didn't like the feeling his father's friend was giving him, and could not wait to be farther away from the man.
"Wait, boy." The man said sternly, causing Daryl to stop from habit.
Daryl had a moment of questioning; trying to figure out if he should or shouldn't listen to the man. On one hand, the man wasn't his father and he didn't have a right to tell him what to do. But on another, he could tell his father and then Daryl would be in for it later.
"Yessir?" Daryl looked at the man questioningly, his hand casually running through his hair.
"Pick this shit up." Nick demanded, pointing to the bottles. Daryl reacted fast, comfortable with direction; he went to pick up as many as he could. Piling them in his arms, he stood up, wanting to get out of there fast, going to walk back towards the kitchen so that he could go to the backdoor.
Nick stuck his foot out, tripping Daryl, glass shattering on the floor. Daryl landed amidst the glass, his hands catching his fall as they stuck with a few glass shards.
"Good for nothing, bitch, clean it up!" Nick yelled angrily, kicking Daryl swiftly in the side with his boot.
Daryl winced before he frantically sat on his knees, grabbing all the glass he could, ignoring the sharp stings of pain and his bleeding hands. His breathing was harsh, his nerves dancing. Daryl dropped the glass as he felt the man roll him over, sitting on his stomach, pinning his shoulders down.
"You are a bitch, aren't you?" The man hissed, slamming his shoulders down on the wood floors again. Daryl could feel more glass sticking to his back, wincing at the stinging sensation.
"C'mon now be a good little bitch for me."
Daryl raised his arms up near his head, his hands going up in a defending manor as he tried to swivel his hips to get the man to unpin him. Daryl waited for punches, for the blows, but they didn't come, however the man didn't let up on his pin. He glanced nervously at the man, slightly confused. His mind understand when the man grabbed one of the glass shards, Daryl thought momentarily that the man was going to kill him. That wasn't the case as the man pulled down the side of Daryl's pants causing him to attempt to punch the man in the face. The man blocked him, punching him in the jaw, Daryl heard the audible crack.
He felt the man grip his side, before he felt the stinging sensation of a wound. He felt the man etch into his skin, his grip was impossible to get out of and he waited it out.
After he was done, Daryl got up, the man letting him run to his room. Daryl frantically took off his shirt, lowering his pants so his hip was exposed, nearly screaming in anger at what he saw "Bitch." was written clear and sharp, over the exposed bone of his narrow hips.
It took them a few miles to find the closest motel; Merle was already on his third can of beer by the time they pulled into one. It was run down, and looked like a place strippers probably got called a lot. They both hopped out of the car, taking in the fresh air, it was far away from the city, and they were happy for that. It felt almost normal to them, almost.
They walked into the front office room; Merle leaned on the counter, ringing the bell profusely. Daryl stood awkwardly, his arms stuck in his pockets, and a scowl on his face. When the man finally came out, Merle straightened up, nodding his head towards the man.
Daryl took in the man; he looked to be about sixty something, and looked harshly familiar to him. Merle asked the man about prices, which was when Daryl finally noticed who he was. He read the man's name tag, seeing Nick only confirmed everything for him. He swayed slightly, unconsciously moving closer to his brother, bumping shoulders with him, he stayed almost behind Merle, avoiding eye contact with the man.
"Yeah it'll be sixty for a night. Hey, son, you okay?" The man asked curiously, his eyes nearly registering Daryl as well.
"He's a little buzzed up tonight, excuse him. Here." Merle chuckled, taking out his license to show to the man.
"I don't want- Merle..I can we leave?" Daryl whispered low enough that the man wouldn't hear, his eyes pleading with his older brother, who shrugged him off, pushing him away slightly.
The man looked over the license, his eyes resting on the last name, jerking his eyes back up to the brothers, mainly Daryl. He grimaced before nodding, handing the license back to Merle and taking the money. He walked back to the closet like place behind the counter, taking a key off the shelf and sliding it across the counter to Merle.
"203, is the door number. Have a good night." He smiled at them, before turning around and going back into the small corner where a tv was.
Daryl couldn't get out of there any faster as he all but ran to the car, jumping in the passenger's seat and waiting for Merle so that they could get to the hotel. Daryl's mind was flooding with memories of the man, his hand resting on his hip touching the word printed there. He grimaced, gnawing on his lip as his brother slid into the driver's seat.
"What's your problem?" Merle groaned, annoyed at his brother's antics.
Daryl shook his head, motioning for Merle to just forget it. They found the building to their room rather quickly, parking the car out front and both of them getting out. Daryl grabbed the beer case, throwing it onto his shoulder, following Merle to their room. The place wasn't clean but it wasn't much dirtier than their house used to be so it didn't bother either one of the brother's.
Merle shut the door behind them as Daryl put down the case of beer, urging his mind to stop working for a few minutes so he didn't have to think about what just happened. He took one of the beers chugging it, stomping his feet in reaction to the warm burning sensation. Merle chuckled, locking the door before taking a beer, and falling unto the bed, grabbing the remote. He crossed his legs, pressing the on button to the tv.
"Hey Merle, where did ya get all this money?" Daryl opened Merle's wallet looking through the few hundreds that remained, glancing over his shoulder at his brother.
"Had a bit saved up for in case somethin' happened. I ain't that irresponsible, ya know." Merle chuckled chugging his beer.
"Just surprised you didn't waste it to get high." Daryl grimaced, putting the wallet down and kept sipping his own beer. He sat in the chair, putting his feet up on the table and watched the tv absentmindedly.
It didn't take long for Merle to fall asleep, leaving Daryl buzzed and alone with his own thoughts. He decided he was going to take a shower, not having had one in a few days he didn't doubt that he smelled disgusting. As he walked to the bathroom, he stripped off his shirt; he glanced at himself in the mirror before turning on the hot water. He stripped down, before getting clean. While he was in the shower, he was able to focus on the task of getting clean, but as he put his clothes on, his hands traced over the scar.
It wasn't as visible anymore, he let his hips ride low as he stared, he could make it out still, and so could others had anyone seen it. His breath caught in his throat, as he felt his eyes start to water, grasping his head in his hands he tried desperately to get the pictures out of his mind. He hated that fucking man, hated him so bad, he was faintly aware of recurring pain, glancing down at his body feeling the familiar sting of glass that wasn't there anymore.
"Son of a bitch!" Daryl yelled his anger and frustration getting the best of him as he punched straight through the mirror creating a loud shattering sound that managed to wake his brother up. Daryl sank to the floor his sobs were harsh against his chest, his arms clutching himself.
Merle walked in, leaning against the door frame glancing at his half-dressed brother with a bloody fist and a shattered mirror.
"We're gonna have to pay for that Daryl." Merle groaned. "What's the problem little brother?"
"I know him.. he I know him." Daryl's voice was cracking as he made eye contact with Merle who's eyes softened slightly.
"Who, the owner?" Merle cocked an eyebrow at his little brother; he hadn't seen that man a day in his life. "Why's he so important."
"Just leave me alone. I just want to be left alone." Daryl whimpered, his body shaking visibly, he sat cross legged on the floor, holding unto himself. Merle rolled his eyes, he had to admit he got tired of his brother's melt downs, but figured they all did come with pretty good reason.
"Naw, little brother. You don't want that, c'mon now. Man up and tell Merle what happened." Merle crouched down to his brother's level, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking into his eyes.
Daryl didn't want to tell Merle everything, barely even wanted to admit it happened. He gnawed on his lip, before glancing at Merle. He pointed to the mark on his hip bone, worried he'd have to tell Merle what it said.
"He did that?" Merle grunted deep in his throat, his eyes cold.
"Y-Yeah." Daryl kept his head low, burying his head in his hands rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted, his eyes heavy with the need to sleep. He was still shaken up, but for some reason Merle just had this ability to calm him down.
"C'mon, get your ass in bed. We got shit to do tomorrow." Merle helped Daryl to his feet, not bothering to grab his brother's shirt for him. He could tell by the way Daryl was acting that that wasn't the only thing that man had done, and it took everything Merle had to not run to the office and murder that son of a bitch. He looked at Daryl's scars; he had more than Merle by quite a lot, which left Merle feeling unnaturally guilty.
He made sure Daryl was in bed first, before sliding in beside him, figuring he'd clean up the bathroom tomorrow. He kept his back to his little brother; both of them never uttered a word to each other.
I'd like you to request what else you think/want Nick to have done to Daryl, (because I'm a little indecisive.) Because there is going to be something more, I'm just not sure what yet. If I want to go towards a little bit darker side of things, or what. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, due to the feelings of the second to last episode of TWD it gave me loads of feelings.