EM: Merle was talkin' to me again. So here we are. He ain't so bad in this one. And I can't believe how much you all got tore up over the last chapter. Just damn near touched my heart. Thanks you guys.

Also, please read my author's note below. There's something there I'd like you all to check out!

Rated: M for Child Abuse


Forgive

He didn't normally watch him sleep. And he sure as hell ain't admittin' to nobody that he ever did. But sometimes, he needed to just check in and make sure that he were still there.

Still breathin'.

Still safe.

Daryl never knew that though.

He could remember all the times the ol' man had come, boots knockin', through his door just to have a late night whoopin' on his ass. He could still feel the one from three nights ago, achin' against his chest, his belly and his shoulder.

The ol' man just wailed on him, not a reason or nothin'. One minute he's sleepin', not that he was out cold or nothin' he knew better'n that, and the next he's pounded awake, breath forced from his lungs as a fist collided with his belly.

He couldn't defend from those attacks. Even if he didn't sleep well, ever, he weren't never awake enough when it happened to defend against'em.

And the ol' man knew that, fuck him, he did.

And the ol' man knew just how much he hated him for that.

"…don't hurt'im…not Merle…"

Merle shifted his feet.

Daryl liked to talk in his sleep too, somethin' else he didn't know. Mostly it was just Daryl, groanin', pantin', or mumblin' at somethin' to stop. He suspected his baby brother was already havin' nightmares about the ol' man.

Merle couldn't hear it most times. Daryl slept on his stomach, curled inward toward the door, face stuffed into the pillow. He figured Daryl did it to protect hisself. Protect his face, and his front. Daryl always did turn his back on the ol' man whenever he went in for a hit.

He always slept with his back to the wall, so that whenever the ol' man did come in for a hit he would have a fightin' chance. But Daryl…Daryl always let the ol' man have his way with him. But he weren't gonna let his baby brother suffer as long as he were there to stop it.

"…please daddy…"

Merle growled in the back of his throat as Daryl's plea ended with a whimper. He could feel his fists curling at his sides.

"What the fuck you lookin' at boy?"

He stiffened. How the fuck?

"I says," the ol' man gripped him by the neck, hard, "what you lookin' at boy?" He wouldn't admit it, never, but that hoarse whisper from the ol' man sent fear straight down his spine.

But that fear weren't for him.

"None a yur goddamn business," he hissed back.

The ol' man's hand slipped around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air.

But he didn't choke, didn't gasp.

Coz now, Daryl was watching. Eyes wide, mouth clamped shut, hands grippin' the sheets so tight his knuckles were turnin' white.

But the ol' man was still there, hovering over him, still bigger than him.

Fuck did he hate that.

He couldn't let the ol' man know that he was there though, for Daryl, makin' sure he were safe.

So he let a smile slip past, and elbowed the ol' man in the gut. There was gonna be punishment for that, but he could take it.

He could always take it. "Just figurin' out how I'm gonna make the little shit pay tomorrow." The ol' man had him pinned to the wall, Daryl momentarily forgotten. Even if he had just talked bout him, didn't matter. He'd hit the ol' man back. Given what he always gave. The ol' man weren't gonna let that go.

"Gonna make the little fuck scream tomorrow. Just like you always make me do, you fuckin' weak old-"

Cept the ol' man weren't weak. And he sure as hell weren't that old. Coz he punched him in the face, right in the nose, his eyes going black, little lights shinin' all over. And then he got one in the gut, and another in the shoulder. Pain echoing all over his body. Sonuvabitch was strong.

Hurt like fuckin' hell. But he didn't scream. Didn't cry out. Didn't show the asshole no weakness.

Didn't show his daddy that he got to him.

He weren't sure what Daryl were thinkin' bout all this, specially since he said he was gonna do the same thing to him tomorrow. And now that he brought it up to the ol' man, which he'll probably remember, he'll probably 'ave to do it.

And Daryl, weren't never gonna forgive him for that. The scars, the pain, would always be there. He had the ol' man's scars to prove it. And he never forgot where they all came from.

And Merle, he wouldn't forgive hisself either.


Reviews mean a lot.

A/N: I don't normally do this, but I'm wonderin' if any of you are Caryl fans. And if ya are, I'm lookin for a prompt. An idea. Something you'd like to see between Daryl and Carol. Because I'd really like to write another story of them, but I can't decide on anything, and the last one I wrote for them was a prompt, and it turned out pretty good (Salvage our Revelations). So if you got something, send me a PM.

Thanks for being here with Merle and I.