Part 5: Secrets

The last thing Dad wants is for Merle to see what he did to Daryl because he knows how protective he is of his little brother. But how long can Daryl keep it a secret? More importantly, can Will keep his promise?

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For quite a long time after, Will fought all his impulses and didn't lay a finger on Daryl. Well, that wasn't quite true – the third night after he'd gone to town on him with his belt, he pulled him into his lap as he passed by his armchair. Will sensed that the kid was nervous, if he hadn't grabbed him like that, Daryl would have skirted around him for sure. Even though he knew all too well that acting skittish around Will was one of the many little things that could set him off. Even as he drew him to him, the father could sense him flinching inside but not showing it. Like a Dixon. Nevertheless, the tension in his muscles was clear as he froze in his father's lap.

'Sh...ain't gonna hurt ya. Said I'm sorry for what I did and I mean it. Ain't never gonna whip ya like that. Not again...Ever.'

'Dad?' He looked up at him with an unreadable expression, nevertheless, there was that trembling full lower lip of his that always gave him away, telling his father that he still didn't trust him. Will suppressed a snarl at that, when he realised that his apologies had all been in vain and that nothing had changed. He took a deep breath instead of scolding the boy , he couldn't really blame him for being afraid. Not after what he'd done. Besides, deep down, he knew the effects of years of tiptoeing around him in terror and constantly walking on egg-shells didn't just vanish just because Will decided to show more remorse than usual.

'Sh...' He brushed back his hair. 'Daddy loves ya, remember that. No matter what happens.'

Daryl leaned forward and hugged him then in reply, making the father's heart leap in his chest in relief. Will chuckled, he wasn't scared of him after all! He held his son tight and was about to give him an encouraging pat on the back for his resilience but luckily then, he remembered his recent injuries just in time as his right hand froze in mid-air, hovering over him.

'How's ya back, son?'

'It's gettin' better.' Daryl mumbled into his chest.

'Still, let me see.' He untangled his arms from him as gently as he could and motioned his son to stand up and turn around.

Daryl did as he was told but resisted at first when Will went to tug up his shirt by putting his hands on top of his father's to stop him.

'Let me see.' Will insisted with just a hint of the old menace in his voice. It worked and his son's hands flew off his and he obediently turned around on legs that were shaking ever so slightly.

'Sh...' Will winced at the signs of his own handiwork. He'd scar for life for sure but the angry looking red marks looked like they were healing well enough. They looked raw and painful but at least they weren't infected.

'I'm sorry. Daddy's sorry.' He whispered, unconsciously repeating what he'd said to him on the day it happened. 'Can ya ever forgive him?'

'Already told ya I did.' Daryl turned around to look at him. 'Besides, I did stay in the shower too long.' Incredibly, he was smiling as he spoke, leaving his father to marvel at him. Truly, he had to have the heart of an angel to forgive him this, Will thought to himself as he gently tugged his shirt back down, trying not to touch them. Despite the care he took, the unmistakable signs of pain fleeted across the boy's features before it brightened up again. Like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

Will pulled him closer to him until he was perched on his lap again.

'Do ya?' He repeated, patting him on his arm instead. 'Really forgive me, I mean...I went too far.'

'Of course, Dad. 'Sides, ya don't drink any more so ya won't do it again.'

Will nodded and smiled at Daryl's simple, child-like belief in him. It was all true. Sickened by his own behavior and the permanent damage he'd inflicted on his eleven- year-old, he'd given up the demon drink. For good.

It had worked – apart from the urges he got every now and then, surprisingly – the opposite to what you'd think, they were easier to fight without the booze. From now on, he was determined to be a good father and make up for all the bad times because Daryl was his favorite after all.

He was because Will couldn't ever recall treating Merle with kid gloves after a punishment. That tough son-of-a-bitch, unlike his little brother, had just got over whatever Will did to him and carried on like nothing had happened. Never acted like he was scared of him afterwards either.

Not so with Daryl, who nevertheless, he had to admit, did show spirit and a spark of defiance from time to time. But whenever he'd got sassy in the past, Will had always taken care to put him back down in his place again.

Merle, on the other hand, had always taken his beatings quietly and raised his fists instead at perceived threats.

With his older boy, a punishment usually ended with him storming out of the house, cursing at Will loud enough for the whole damn village to hear, leaving his father still fuming with anger. Shaking his fists at him in turn and calling threats after him.

Yet Will preferred Merle's sneers and smirks and smart-mouth comebacks that earned him even more pain to how Daryl acted afterwards. For instance, after each punishment, Daryl was particularly jumpy and would flinch at the tiniest hint of a raised hand or voice no matter who they belonged to. Merle would give him a strange look whenever he did that.

Dwelling on the differences between his two boys, Will's breath hitched and he held his son tighter to his chest. Moments like these, he couldn't believe how he could even dream of hurting him.

Come to think of it, something about the boy managed to snap Will out of many violent fits of rage, what with his tearful eyes and attempts to shield the vulnerable parts of him with his hands and begging for the beating to stop. Somehow, more often then not, his desperate pleas for mercy cut through the red veil of anger that had clouded over Will's vision and he would stop. Frozen in the moment, usually with his fists in the air and snarling down at him but it nearly always ended the same, he stopped. Then, he would slowly lower his hands to clench them into fists at his sides. When he came back to his senses sometimes he would find it in his heart to apologize, but usually he didn't. He knew it was wrong for him to give into his son's weakness like that, because by rights, he should punish him even harder when he made a sound. He would have done that with Merle but with that boy, he never needed to.

Will decided the time was as good as any to broach the subject now that he'd clearly won Daryl's love again.

'Daryl...Ya know Merle'll be back from wherever he's been in a few days? He called.'

His son on his lap nearly leapt off him with glee the news. 'Is he? When?' He gushed, barely able to hide his excitement, but Will knew better. He would no doubt have clapped for joy if Will hadn't been there, he was sure of it. He noticed that gleam of happiness that his eyes got at the mere mention of his brother that he never had for him, his father. With this realisation, rose a surge of jealousy within him. He was his father – Daryl should love him best! But he merely bit the insides of his cheeks to calm down. He'd promised to keep his temper in check. It wouldn't do to even let a simple curse slip his lips at this moment, not when he needed to extract a promise from the boy before his beloved big brother returned home. Will didn't want Daryl to keep it just out of fear, he wanted him to do it out of forgiveness and loyalty to him.

'Either the day after tomorrow, he said, or the day after that. But that ain't what I wanted to talk to you about, son.'

'It ain't?' The boy was clearly mystified. 'Then, what about, Dad?'

'I don't want ya to tell him about the whippin'. If you tell him, there'll be trouble.' Will pressed his point home, knowing that the last thing in the world that Daryl wanted was to be the cause of their fighting and make his brother leave again when he'd only just got back.

The boy's face fell and he looked worried. He knew what trouble meant. Merle wouldn't dare raise a hand to their father but there would be yelling and things thrown and no doubt broken, then his brother would storm out of the house. Leaving neither of them knowing when or if for sure he would return and his Dad might be mad enough to take it out on him. Start hitting and yelling at him again. . But back in the old days, it would have meant Merle getting punished too for questioning Will's child-raising methods or how he treated his precious baby brother. Strange when he'd had the same treatment growing up - it was what made them Dixons in the end, Will silently mused to himself. But Merle had quickly gotten too old for a real beating. Truth was, he rarely punished his eldest physically anymore. Still, it didn't take long for Will to figure out that he could use Daryl to get at him, – touch a single hair on his kid brother's head and he was all over his father – at least with his filthy mouth. But now he had decided that after that last particularly brutal whipping, even Daryl was off limits.

'Don't tell Merle what happened, will ya? He'll only get angry and you know what happens when he talks back at me.'

'Yeah…No, Dad. I wasn't gonna tell him anyway. Besides, it don't hurt no more.' But the smile he beamed up at his father was strained and didn't reach his eyes.

'Ya sure 'bout that?' Right then at that moment Will knew that some change for the better had occurred in him because the old him would've shot off a sadistic smile at his son, slapped his back with an open palm to prove that he knew that he was lying through his teeth. Will knew that deep cuts like those didn't stop hurting like that so soon after. Instead he smiled a genuine smile at seeing his boy acting like a brave little trooper and no doubt to spare his feelings. To not make him feel guiltier than he already did. He'd heard Daryl whimper in his bedroom more than once over the last couple of nights and when he'd gone in to check, he was lying fast asleep on his stomach. Clearly, his back still hurt too much for him to put any pressure on it. Also, Daryl wouldn't want to risk opening up the healing cuts again, he'd learnt his lesson from before when he'd been too eager for his wounds to heal. But not this time, he knew better.

'If ya tell Merle, there'll be trouble. Spoil things for all of us.'

'I won't!' He suddenly burst out, seeming to get angry at only the suggestion that he would tell Merle about what happened. He was fired up for sure and Will had another glimpse of the Dixon temper under his gentle exterior and felt relieved. 'Ain't a snitch!' He added with just as much bite.

'Good boy.' Will ran his fingers through his hair and stroked the back of his neck with one hand. The boy always calmed down whenever you touched him there and soon enough, his eyes were slowly closing as he relaxed completely in his arms.

'Good boy.' He whispered and planted a kiss to his temple. 'Just be careful not to let him see your back. That's means no swimmin' in the lake or the river.'

'But...' He started, putting so much outrage into that single word that it made Will fight the urge to smile. Go figure that his son would be pissed about being denied swimming in the lake during the hot summer months. Daryl was a real water-baby, always had been. Especially when it was his big brother inviting him.

Will had also thought that unusual– most big brothers weren't as keen as him to spend their precious free-time with an annoying kid brother tagging along and cramping their style. But not Merle.

'Not until they fade some.' He added, trying to make him feel better.

Daryl looked up at him innocently, his eyes as big as saucers. Meanwhile, that damn lower lip of his was trembling again as he struggled to hide his disappointment. Of course, he didn't want to rock the boat with his Dad who was genuinely trying to change and be a better father to him. A dad that didn't hit or scream at him anymore, at least.

Will gave him a gentle shake – not to scare him but just to let him know he meant business. He knew that those marks would never fade. Not from a lashing like that and he couldn't take the risk of Merle finding out.

'Ya hear?'

'Yes, Dad.' He mumbled meekly and Will went back to stroking that special place that soon had him nodding off. The kid could sleep anywhere, anytime. 'That's my special boy.' He crooned at him. 'Everythin's gonna be OK, ya'll see.'

…..

Merle came back a couple of days later than he'd said, giving Will time to work on Daryl some more because he didn't want his older son to accuse him of ill-treating his brother while he was gone. Why Merle made such a fuss when he had scars to match on his own back, Will didn't know. He couldn't complain after all, Merle wouldn't be the tough man he was today if their father hadn't whipped some sense into him.

Inevitably, the invitation to a dip in the nearest watering hole came from the big brother as soon as he dropped off his bags in his room and came back downstairs again. He was red-faced and sweaty after his journey, clearly looking for some relief from the heat. Daryl acted the part of being unwilling to go for a swim to perfection, saying that he wasn't in the mood. Merle was surprised and a bit annoyed but let it go. Yet it was a bit harder for Daryl to refuse the second time he asked a couple of days later.

They had just finished breakfast and it was a particularly scorching Georgian summer's day, even hotter than the day before. 'Wanna go swimming in the hole today, then? It's a fine day for it.' The big brother asked the younger.

Merle was already stripping off and their father looked at his youthful, perfectly toned and muscular body with envy. His fine blonde hair almost bleached white by the Georgian sun in contrast to his brother's dark locks. Will knew he looked pretty good for his age but he'd never see 40 again.

'I...I don't wanna. Don't feel like it today.' Daryl glanced nervously over at Will, who nodded approvingly.

'What? Ya said that yesterday too...Ya always love going for a dip. Are you sure ya ain't comin' down with somethin'?' Merle took a few determined steps towards him who appeared to be very interested in examining his nails all of a sudden. Merle touched his forehead with one hand and was about to yank off his shirt when Daryl, suddenly catching on to what big brother was about to do he looked up at him almost fearfully. They both knew that there was no stopping the older brother when he had set his mind on something. Alarmed, he stepped back 'No, don't...'

'Come on. I know ya want to go...' Merle tried again, his voice more coaxing this time and grabbed for his T-shirt when Daryl kept on moving away from him.

'Didn't you hear what he just said?' Their father bellowed suddenly and got in between them, shoving his oldest away. 'He don't want to, so leave him be! Why ya tryin' to force him to do somethin' he don't want to do?'

Now Merle looked a bit alarmed himself at their father's reaction and his face fell. He'd been looking forward to showing his little brother a new pool he'd just discovered and he was disappointed and couldn't hide it on his face.

'Fine.' He shrugged and pretended it was no big deal. It was the end of that until a few weeks later when the inevitable happened, no matter how much Will had tried to stop it.

….

Daryl was in the shower that night, soaping himself down. His back had completely healed and the scars had faded to thick white lines criss-crossing it. They hadn't faded in the least, not like his father said they would but he stopped himself dwelling on them since there was nothing he could to about it, really. He thought they were a small price to pay when it seemed like Dad had really stopped drinking and barely so much as raised his voice to him these days.

To put it briefly, things had got a whole lot better in the Dixon household.

As he washed, he started singing the song his Mama taught him. Not that he could remember her clearly but it made him feel close to her. His whole body was covered in white foam that he was sponging off - his family knew how crazy he was about shower gels and smelly soap and they'd tease him about this faggish behavior. He'd just shrug it off.

It had been six weeks since Merle had come home and the best part of summer swimming would soon be over. Soon, the water in he pools and lakes would be growing cold but Daryl had refused every time. Not even Merle calling him a pussy who was scared of water managed to make any difference.

It was late when his brother came home, drunk as a skunk after a night out boozing. He ran up the stairs and tried to turn the bathroom handle. Shook it in frustration when he realised it was locked.

'Who's in there? I need to take a piss!'

'Me. I'll be out in a minute.' Daryl answered but that wasn't soon enough for his desperate brother.

'Get out now! Otherwise I'm gonna piss all over the carpet!'

'Ain't my problem.' Daryl retorted, chuckling to himself at the image he had of his brother waiting outside, legs crossed like a girl, squeezing them together to try to take the pressure off his over-strained bladder.

'Right, that does it! I'm comin' in, ya little shit!'

Now Daryl answered in full panic mode. He didn't know where their Dad was, he'd heard him go out just before he locked the door to the bathroom, too eager to make full use of his freedom to take a nice, long, hot shower to wait for the outer door to slam shut. Even though it seemed like their father had changed for good, there was something that Daryl didn't quite trust about this new transformation and he didn't want to set him off by staying too long in the shower. After all, that's why he'd got whipped in the first place.

'I'm in the shower, it'll take a minute.'

'I don't have a minute. Open up!'

'Said I'm in the fucking shower!'

'I don't give a shit! I'm comin' in!'

'No, Merle, ya can't!' Now he felt really scared. Scared of Merle? His big brother who'd never really hurt him before? But he sounded pissed. Drunk and maybe something else...Drugs could make him not realise what he was doing...More than drunk and high, he sounded crazy as he tried to kick the door in.

Was Merle out of it enough to seriously hurt him? Like Dad used to?

'Stop, don't break the door! I'm gettin' out to unlock it, OK?' He hurriedly turned off the shower and climbed out, cursing at being disturbed yet again.

'Jus' give me a minute!' He called when he heard the door handle still rattling but Merle didn't answer. Just redoubled his efforts to get in, this time by using his shoulder. Daryl furrowed his brows in irritation because he couldn't believe why his brother didn't just go and do it outside? He never had a problem doing that that before. Now he was acting crazy.

'Fuckin' stop it, Merle!' He raised his voice slightly, trying to sound more brave than he actually felt. He scanned the room with his eyes at the same time, searching for a big enough towel to wrap himself up in but there wasn't one in sight. He cursed himself for not checking before he got in the shower...there was just that same tiny white towel that was good for covering up nothing that he'd worn when Dad had whipped him. He couldn't help but to shudder at the memory while he continued to yell at his brother to stop breaking down the door but Merle never answered or ceased his efforts to get in.

It wasn't about him being shy around Merle, it wasn't a big deal, why would it be? They were brothers. When they went swimming, they usually just kicked off everything and didn't care. But now he didn't want to be exposed in front of him but most of all, he didn't want him to see his back and what Dad had done to him.

Daryl soon gave up trying to reason with his brother, clearly Merle wasn't listening, so he leaned against the wall to shield his back from view from the get-go. Merle was nearly there now, judging by the creaking of the door and its shuddering, where cracks were starting to appear around the frame. Dad was going to kill Merle for it and him too probably for locking it like that.

Daryl winced at a particularly hard shove and renewed his efforts in vain: 'Merle!' He yelled one last time, but he doubted his brother heard him through all the noise he was making. Finally, the sturdy old timber door gave way and was left hanging half off its hinges and his brother was there in front of him, red in the face and looking ready to breathe fire.

Or murder him.