I'm not sure I like this chapter but I don't know how else it could have went in the aftermath. I hope it's alright.

Daryl didn't even bother looking at the ruination before him. It could have only been Merle or Mac. It was always one of the two and he knew that Mac had been with him all night. Merle was the only person though that would have went this route. Mac would have painted the world red with as mad as he'd been. It seemed that Merle had done them a favor and got Phillip's throat to the nearest razor in the end.

"Fuck you." Mac snapped.

Merle pushed off the wall and crowded Mac backwards. Daryl eyed them already use to their posturing and bullshit. It was the same shit after all these years. Both had huge egos and even bigger issues. If they'd just shut the fuck up sometimes they'd see that the ends were the same after all. That wasn't his brothers though because they both needed to be the biggest asshole in the room.

Merle shoved Mac causing his back to hit the wall. Daryl side eyed them again and shook his head. He couldn't get a fucking minute to think with these two going for each others throats. Turning just as Mac swung at Merle he huffed feeling the blood hit his face and chest. Shifting on his feet he slid between the brothers easily. It came with years of doing so that he was able to avoid being hit. He could feel the beat of each of their hearts against him as both chest heaved.

Mac's hand gripped the leather of his belt immediately. Mac was cocked and loaded. He wanted to hurt something- someone. Merle wasn't like that. He didn't actively seek out hurting people in the ways Mac did but he also wouldn't back away from a fight.

"Calm the fuck down." Daryl snarled, "Both of you."

Merle met his eyes, "You gonna show her this?"

"Yes." Mac and Daryl spoke in unison.

There was no doubt that Kira would see this. She needed too. Phillip haunted her all her life and seeing what was left of him. Seeing that he could never hurt her again, touch her, touch them, or take another breath would be cleansing. She needed it as much as they needed to see that weight leave her shoulders.

Merle nodded and his eyes ran over Daryl. There was trouble in his eyes. "What happened?"

Daryl swallowed thickly. Merle was watching him closely and he felt Mac's chest press against his back. He could feel the thunder of his heart and the pain they shared. It was something Merle never seen, it was something he wasn't there for, it was something that till this day troubled him. He'd hid it well but he knew something happened all those years ago that fucked him up.

Looking at the blood puddling around Phillip as Mac slipped his arm around him. Watching as it thickened and darkened he could almost smell the smoke and southern comfort. He could feel the way blood thickened sin ran down his arms and his back. The way it pasted his hair to his head and made his shirt cling to him like a second skin. It was like static in his mind and he swallowed.

"I killed him." Daryl's voice was gruff.

Merle followed his eyes but Daryl never cared. He knew Merle was aware something happened.

"Those marks..."

Daryl felt his chest heave. "He'd been on a binder for a bit. He was pissed that Mac wasn't kissing his ass and being the model son he wanted. He didn't want him with me all the time- wanted him to hate me like he did."

Mac arm tightened around his chest and he felt his forehead press into his shoulder. Mac mourned not being there. He mourned every stitch hat went into his body that night.

"He came in about two fifths in and started screaming." Daryl snorted, "I should have left right then but hindsight." There was a humorless laugh that sounded, he was sure it was his but he felt disconnected.

Merle shifted and tilted his head meeting Daryl's eyes. He didn't see anything but understanding there.

"He caught me." Daryl's voice was hoarse. There was a world of pain in that one sentence. There was so much that he felt his chest constrict and his back burn like that knife was flaying him alive again. He'd died that night, he'd died but he didn't. He came out on top blood soaked and damaged, a mirror for Mac. Neither man pushed him to talk and Daryl let Mac take his weight. The world was starting to push on him and he was to tired to push back. The constant back and forth fighting with the group, the bullshit with Andrea, the bullshit- it was all wearing him down. "He was speaking crazy shit like always but then he got fucking focused. He seen my shit, I was ready to leave that night. I was supposed to meet Mac. When he seen that was when he done the shit to my back but he'd took something when he was drinking. He said he was going to wait on Mac to show up and then he'd make me watch."

Mac's breath rushed out of him and Merle's did as well. Merle stepped closer and Daryl lifted his eyes. "I couldn't let Mac take my place. I couldn't let him have the same shit happen to him that was always happening to me."

Merle gripped his chin and forced him to meet his eyes, "He deserved to die. He deserved every last fucking bit of it."

Mac nodded. His skin scraped against the wings of Daryl's back and Daryl's chest heaved. "I stabbed him thirty fucking times...I lost count after that. By the time I realized what the fuck I'd done I was so out of it I was half way.."

Merle shook his head his grip tightening, "He was the monster."

Mac's arm slid up and around Daryl's throat. It felt normal, calming, fucking reassuring. "You're not a monster."

Merle watched him closely. "What I done here I have no regrets. Sometimes you do bloody things in life but that don't make us bad men. The world needs men like you, Daryl."

Soft footfalls caught all their attention and Kira stepped into the room. There was no doubting she heard what he'd said. He left a lot out. They all knew that he had. He didn't want to go into detail about the things said to him as that knife slid through the skin of his back. It marred his mind and soul and it took a lot of time and effort to get him where he was now. He craved things now that had only been slightly shadowing his mind before. Mac had been there though. Mac had never turned away from him, he cleaned him up and cared. He never let him falter or fall and was always there to shoulder his burden. He never asked him to talk about it and he never expected Mac to be a saint. Merle done what he could but it was hard when there was a world of knowing between them.

Kira slipped right between him and Merle and wrapped around Daryl like a vine. He felt her hands grapple onto Mac. "The world needs men like the Dixon's." She kissed the base of his throat, "Will Dixon isn't the deciding factor on your alls worth."

Daryl let out a breath and Merle smirked at him. He gave an approving nod to her and then Kira looked over.

"So I killed Phillip while y'all were fucking."

Daryl cringed and Mac barked out a laugh. Kira was stiff against him but then turned her back flush against Daryl. Mac was moving around now and Daryl could hear the tacky movement of his feet stepping into blood. Kira was eyeing Merle quietly.

He gave her a sardonic smile and she huffed. "Did you at least tell him why?"

Merle snorted at her and then spread his arms, "I'm pretty sure seeing my brother's with you gave that the fuck away."

Kira through her arms up, "You're impossible you know that, right?"

"You're a bitch."

Mac snorted again, "Watch it."

Kira shot Merle a triumphant smile, "And you're jealous."

Merle sneered and spit to the side. He watched as satisfaction shown in Kira's eyes when it hit Phillip. Whether Merle meant for that to happen or it was just luck he wasn't sure. Likely he was being nasty either way.

"Think pretty fucking highly of yourself don't you." Merle eyed her before looking to Mac, "Why the fuck are you stomping around in the blood?"

Mac shot him a look, "Hey fuck you, I had some serious plans for this motherfucker. If I want to splash around and stomp in the blood then I will. "

"Goddamn kids." Daryl whispered to Kira.

She laughed getting their attention. "Something to share Darylina?"

He shook his head and he felt tension leaving him. He wasn't worried about his past. He didn't so much worry before but it was always a lingering shadow over him. He knew what he done. He didn't just kill a man, he'd brutalized him. There wasn't much left and the body was unrecognizable. Only Mac knew that though. He'd seen it and like now he'd stomped around in that blood. He'd made it splash up the walls brilliantly longing showing in his eyes for the violence he craved. He wanted to bring justice to the person who hurt the ones he loved.