A/N – So looooong to finally get this done. I'm so sorry. I had writer's block and I have a crazy work schedule this week and next. Not sure when my next one will be up but I'll get it done as soon as I can! Thank you for the reviews! I really appreciate you guys bearing with me and continuing to read even when I can't be as dedicated to posting as I want to be.

Chapter 11 – The Mistakes that Haunt Us

"He don't mean no harm, ya know…," Merle said from the doorway. Carol and Sophia were both inside the room where they'd been sleeping the last few nights. Sophia looked up at him, caught his eye and he winked at her. She grinned that smile that only she could give him, the smile that made the world light up.

Carol was busy with something at her bed, her back to Merle, and she shook her head to herself before turning around to look at him. She stood there, one hand on her hip and sighed.

"I know. I know that, Merle. He never means any harm. But he can't tell me what to do. He keeps trying to… but I'm not going to let him. I've been there, done that, and I'm through being whatever everyone else wants me to be."

Merle sucked the side of his cheek into his mouth, shrugged at her sullenly.

"He's not my… I don't know, he's Daryl… he keeps acting like he's more and… well, he's not. He wouldn't want to be, trust me," Carol said frowning.

"He's acting like he's your husband," Sophia said softly, "Maybe he wants to be…"

Carol looked at her and chuckled, "Oh, you're sweet; honey, but I don't think so."

Merle took a deep breath and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. This wasn't part of the plan… this conversation… but it seemed as good a time as any for him to decide to be frank.

"Daryl's scared, Carol. And if he knew I told-ya that, he'd shit a fuckin' brick bout it."

Carol furrowed her brow and looked at Merle. "What? Why would he be scared?"

Merle raised an eyebrow at her. He wasn't going to give her all the answers. He'd been watching them both over the last week. Daryl had been avoiding him but had been all over making sure Carol was safe. Merle knew what Daryl was doing. He didn't blame him. Merle had done a lot of shit to Daryl over the years… trust wasn't going to come easy. He counted himself lucky to have Sophia at this point… lucky to have found her and lucky that Carol was so willing to let him stick around her.

And Daryl… well, Merle was going to believe that somehow, someday Daryl was going to come around. But Merle had been watching them, and he'd noticed some things. The way Carol always made sure to give an extra scoop of whatever supper there was to Daryl. The way Daryl was always a step or two away from her, eyes always aimed in her direction. It was like a dance the two had… like some backwards two-step between people clearly in love but both too scared to make the first move.

"Why would he be scared?," Carol repeated and Merle sighed.

"Ya didn't grow up like we did… Daryl ain't had the best life, and frankly I was as much a cause of that as anythin' else… there's a lot tha' happened to make Daryl who he is today," Merle said, hanging his head.

"So tell me, Merle… I want to understand him," Carol said softly, her eyes searching Merle's earnestly; "I need to understand him."

Merle frowned, moved across the room and sat down at the seat next to Sophia, he glanced over at Sophia gave her a small nod and then turned his gaze back to Carol.

"We had a Ma once… I imagine she was a bit like ya. She was sweet and she loved us. She died. When I was 13… I think Daryl might-a been 3 or 4."

Daryl was crying and his tears just made Merle madder. Didn't the kid know that his mother was dead and there wasn't no place for crying no more? Pa was in the kitchen, passed out, head down on the table, bottle of bourbon still clutched in his hand.

"He was too lil' for Pa's shit… I took a lotta beatin's for 'im when he was a babe, til he was a bit bigger 'an school age. But when I got into the drugs… well I all but forgot Daryl existed."

Merle made his way over to where three-year-old Daryl was sobbing at the bottom of the stairs. "What's yer problem?," he muttered angrily and his younger still-a-baby-far-as-he-was-concerned brother just looked up at him, tear-soaked face, red eyes, lower lip hanging down, whimpering like a puppy.

"I wasn't the brother I shoulda been… he got older and I got older… and I got into all sorts-a shit. I used to put out butts on 'im, tripped 'im, smacked 'im round sometimes, cause I was bored and high and dumb as shit. I 'ventually learned that if I put the blame on Daryl, for whatever shit there was didn't matter… well, Pa would hit him instead. The only man I ever been 'fraid of is that man… Pa. I was shit stupid and I justified gettin' Daryl beat by all the beatin's I took when Daryl was just a babe."

Merle sighed. "Git up and quit yer blubberin'. Ma wouldn't-a like it anymore than I does."

"Want Ma," Daryl sniffed out quietly and Merle reached down pulling his baby brother up to a standing position.

"Me too, kid, me too. But she ain't 'ere no more. It's me and ya and Pa now. Jus' us boys. Gotta be a big boy now and quit yer cryin' or you'll wake 'im. Ya know he won't like that."

Daryl's eyes got wide and he took a deep phlegmy breath. "Scared of Pa…," he whispered, his 'r' sounding like a 'w', his toddler voice even as a whisper high-pitched and a little abrasive to Merle's ears.

Merle had an urge to smack his little brother… it just sprang into his mind and he didn't know where it came from. The instant he thought it though, he thought of Ma. She wouldn't like it. She needed him to be strong, to be her big man, to take care of Daryl. She'd said so… when she told him about leaving Pa, she'd said he'd have to be her big man so that he could help. She couldn't do without him, she'd said.

Of course that hadn't happened had it… leaving Pa. There just was no leaving Pa. And Ma was gone. Dead. Choked. Stabbed. Double dead.

Didn't mean Ma didn't still need him to be her big man though…

"Don't worry, kid… I'm gonna take care of ya. Keep ya safe like Ma used-ta."

"Promise?" It sounded like 'pwomise' and it nearly made Merle remember he was just a teenager with no Ma no more, nearly made him choke on his own grief. He felt the anger building up again. The anger was easier than the grief. The anger was a comforting tonic to the emotions that were eating him alive.

"Fuckin said it, didn't I? Quit yer blubberin' now and we'll fix up some shit to eat."

Merle paused, his voice thick when he continued, "I told 'im I would take care of 'im, Carol… I told 'im, but I was full of shit. None of the beatings I ever took could compare to what Pa did to 'im, none of 'em could ever compare… Pa hated Daryl, called 'im 'the one that ain't mine'... ya don't even know the shit he done to 'im… the scars on tha' boy… I was the lucky one. Cause I was fucked up selfish and too high to give a shit bout nothing but my next fix…"

Sophia placed a small hand on top of his on the table and he broke his gaze from Carol and looked at her, his eyes distraught, the regret and shame of all the ways he'd failed his brother completely overwhelming, consuming him.

The door swung open in that moment and they were interrupted by Daryl storming in.

"We fuckin' goin' to git this shit or wha'? Ya'll fuckin' dawdlin' and the time's a waistin'," Daryl said crossly.