Chapter 39: Aftermath

Oh, poor Daryl! Will Dad do it again? Will Merle notice something is wrong? Same trigger warnings apply. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you can. The authors would really appreciate it. x

Daryl

Obviously, I couldn't sleep, despite being drained of energy even after I got my emotions under control. Always worrying that he would change his mind and come in and mess with me anytime. I had already worked out that Merle snoring like a swine next door, completely unaware what he had done and how he had just threatened me seemed to be a huge turn -on for him. Besides, the lingering pain was a constant reminder that this madness had actually happened and I could feel myself still bleeding. Wasn't the asshole worried about blood stains that would maybe go through to the sheet?

I inhaled deep through my nose, and held it there. Only when my lungs hurt, did I let my body exhale. Somehow it soothed me, my breathing was something I had control over.

It was better than nothing.

When I breathed in deeply like that, I found myself wrinkling my nose because I reeked of pineapple and mint. From that moment on it would most likely be a scent I avoided by all costs. Yet hours later, before sleep finally claimed me in its comforting arms; I couldn't help inhale it in deeply one more time, hoping that I had finally been left in peace.

I had to believe what he said that I was safe for the time being, in a room smelling like pineapple and mint, my previous favourite flavour bath oil.

With that, I was able to fall into an uneasy sleep.

I woke unrefreshed the following with vague memories of nightmares. Mostly involving Mike and of course, my father.

I got my brother up as soon as I woke up like Dad ordered me to. I didn't feel like I should risk pissing him off or he might carry out the threat he'd made to me last night. No way was I ready for that.

My brother wasn't happy by any means and swore and cursed under his breath but by 8am we were both outside the toolshed about to start work on it. Well, I did most of it since Merle was so hungover and still on his drinking binge. If he noticed anything different about me, he didn't say and I didn't tell him. Just commented on my bruised and cut face and said how he was going to make our father pay. But he seemed lacklustre about it.

But then my brother suddenly downed his tools and looked hard at me with a piercing look.

Yes, Merle! I thought to myself. You can sense I'm different. You know what he did to me.

I guessed that I was walking a bit funny, my backside was still hurting like a son-of-a-bitch but either he didn't notice or put it down to Dad's anger.

All he said was: 'So, you got away from the cops OK, yesterday, bro?'

I paused. Should I tell him the truth?

'Yeah, fine. Dad just slapped me around 'cos I came back late.' The lie just tripped off my tongue.

He narrowed his eyes at me.'Ya sure?'

My tell-a-tale hesitation must have alerted him. Now's my chance to tell him what Dad did! Like I did in my head yesterday! But I found myself nodding and smiling like I didn't control my own body anymore.

I just couldn't tell my brother. We shared the same father and I didn't have the words for how he punished me yesterday – it was just too sick, and maybe I was too ashamed with our father's taunts ringing in my ears.

'Sorry for leavin' ya like that but I thought you'd be OK if you got caught. That they'd go easy on ya 'cos you're a minor. I would have ended back in Juvie if I would have. Lucky, they didn't, huh!' He grinned and punched my arm then and I could have punched him back in the face but I didn't.

'Pussy', my father mocked in my head and I shivered.

Merle stayed behind even after we finished to look for a screw driver he'd lost a long time ago. Knowing how currently fucked up he was on whatever he'd taken the night before, I knew he'd probably be searching a long time even if everything was in order now.

I didn't have the patience to help him look or at least that's what I told myself. I used to idolize him so much that I didn't want to be mad at him although I knew I had every right to be. After all, he assumed that I would see them or that the cops would just give me a good talking to if I got caught and let me go.

He wasn't to know that they wouldn't and would insist on speaking to our father. Or what the consequences of that would be for me.

In a daze, I found myself in front of the bathroom without knowing how I got there. I should have been more alert but my head was foggy as I stood in front of the door, so lost in the need to wash myself clean of him despite 'the bath' last night. I was about to open it when I suddenly felt myself being grabbed by two strong arms and pulled in. He quickly locked the door behind us and smirked at me. I drew back in shock, wide awake now with the adrenalin pumping through my body making my heart pound.

Worst thing was he didn't even say anything as he shoved my hand down the front of his pants. I tried my best to resist but it was useless, of course. He didn't even get angry, just forced me to touch him until he spilled all over my hand. Then he was gone.

I was so furious that I punched the wall and stifled a scream when I heard Merle yell 'I found it!' cheerily from the yard. Then I heard Dad reply but I blocked out their conversation, I couldn't care less. All I could do was pour some disinfectant from the bathroom cabinet over my hand and scrub it raw. I welcomed even the sting if it meant it got rid of him.

No time for a shower – he'll have a fit if he hears me. Might give him the excuse he wants to…

With a sigh, I went downstairs for breakfast although food was the last thing on my mind right then. Despite having nothing to eat since the previous Thursday. I was literally crawling in my skin at the thought of facing that twisted piece of shit again after every disgusting thing he'd made me do. Not least just now.

Merle was sitting at the kitchen-table with his head hanging low over his cereal bowl, already gobbling down his food. Still feeling not his best, no doubt. I could tell that his foul mood was back after his joy at finding his stupid tool from being woken up early on a Sunday morning to do a chore. He should have been glad it was me – a wakeup call from dad usually involved being dragging out of bed or a hard slap to the face. I would have welcomed my brother being pissed off with me rather than Dad's kiss on my forehead and his whisper - 'Good Morning, Sunshine.'

Merle either ignored this or probably didn't notice. Then Dad took his place at the table to read the newspaper. I scooted around him as wide as I could to get my hands on Merle's rolled-up smokes. Just as I reached out to grab one, the bastard slammed the paper down, making Merle jump in his chair. Merle never jumped – he probably did only because everything was so loud in his useless drug-addled brain.

'What? I ain't hungry.'

'Ya don't touch those smokes, ya hear me? Sit ya sorry ass down and eat.'

I turned my back to him once again, muttering under my breath.

'What was that, boy?'

'Nothin', what's it to you if I eat or not?'

'Come on, ya must be hungry. Thought you were starvin'? And ya need ya strength for later.' He leered at me. Merle failed to get his meaning or catch his lascivious look, of course.

'Dad,…leave 'im…'

'We got food now, so sit down and fuckin' EAT!' Dad screamed at me.

Merle was on high alert now – his body was poised to intervene if needed.

'No!' I didn't move. The pervert had control over my body – he'd proved that- at least I could have control over whether I ate or not.

'For fuck's sake...It's not like it's a big deal. Let him have his smokes first.' Merle sighed irritably but I could sense his growing alarm, especially when Dad threatened me.

'Daryl, ya get ya ass over here or you'll regret it. You keep out of this, Merle, if ya know what's good for ya. He was very bad last night and I had to punish him.' He snickered and drawled out the word 'punish' in way to give it a special meaning to me but of course, my hungover brother failed to get it.

'Why? 'Cos he came home late? Seen what ya did to his face, Dad!'

Dad turned to me, eyebrow raised, on the verge of chuckling. I could almost hear him say out loud, 'So you didn't have the guts to tell him about your crime and how I punished you for it?'

I was sore all over – inside and outside. Every part of me. I hated it, hated him more while he sat opposite me, smirking with that knowing, creepy smile.

Merle had returned to shovelling cereal into his mouth. I poured up some for myself but could only stare down at it. I was simply unable to eat.

Maybe I would never be able to eat anything ever again. Hopefully, including his fuckin' dick.

My stomach was churning like a washing machine and I knew that he was going to really 'punish' me later.

Right on cue, the fucker leaned over and said quietly to me, 'I'll let ya choke on somethin' else tonight, don't ya worry 'bout that.'

I dropped the spoon that was slowly traveling to my mouth in shock. The left side of my face stung as his open palm left its mark. Merle tensed up again and frowned, shifting where he sat. Probably so he could get up faster if things got out of hand, like he used to do. My nerves were also on high alert as I watched him.

He narrowed his eyes at our father but only for a split second. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

Dad cleared his throat and smiled innocently at me quickly before turning his attention to Merle.

'Why, what ya think I said to him?'

'That you'll let him choke on...'

Dad laughed at Merle's questioning expression and answered slowly and deliberately as if talking to a small child;

'Smoke, Merle. I'll let ya smoke somethin' else tonight. I know you are probably feelin' like shit after ya big night out but try to keep up.'

Frustrated at my brother's obtuseness, I squeezed the glass of milk between my hands and satisfied myself with staring daggers at our asshole of a father who looked far too pleased with himself.

I even tried kicking Merle under the table, but got Dad's leg instead. That earned me a vicious backhand across my face, splitting my lip. Merle shot up so fast from his chair that it fell backwards with Dad following his example. To my surprise nothing happened. They just glared at each other while I held my breath. A week ago, if Dad had hit me in front of him, it would have been a full blown fist-fight.

Merle dumped his bowl in the sink and left the house as soon as he could.

I couldn't really blame him. But at the same time I did for leaving me with that monster. For not taking me with him at least. I wondered what the hell was going on with for abandoning me at the store and now this. Had I done something wrong? It was like he was keeping his distance from me or something.

A lot later on I would find out why he suddenly turned cold on me but back then, it just made me feel betrayed and alone.

Luckily, dad left me alone. Didn't even say anything creepy. Just ordered me to do my chores and bring him his beer, then his whiskey. Didn't even touch me except to ruffle my hair and when I jerked away, he only laughed and let me go. I could almost kid myself that it had all been some fucked-up dream.

But the panic grew in me as night time approached and I considered running away not for the first time like I used to go to Eric's after particularly vicious beatings and punishments.

After his eighth beer and just as I put down his 4th whiskey, he grabbed me by the chin as I straightened up to move away from him as soon as I could.

'Jus' in case ya think of runnin' away, I'll kill Merle.' He just came out with it in a cold voice and I knew he was deadly serious.

'Daad…I wasn't…Don't hurt him!'

He groped my backside before I could react and squeezed my left buttock painfully. 'Jus' in case ya were.' He smiled kindly at me.

I don't know if it was the fact that Dad had been drinking almost nonstop since Merle left that morning or that he was pleased with my submissive behaviour when he threatened my brother. Or maybe he did genuinely care and was giving me time to heal or more likely, he simply didn't have the energy to fuck me. It wasn't like him, passing up an opportunity to punish me. In any case, a few hours later, I found myself on my knees in front of him but feeling relatively relieved as long as he didn't do that more painful thing. But I soon figured out through his erratic and desperate movements that there was nothing to be relieved about.

There were several times when I tried to calm him down, pushing uselessly at his thighs in desperation.

He was drunker than I thought and not able to control himself at all. I passed out one time as he refused to pull out his dick out of my throat. The times when he allowed me to breathe, I screamed for Merle even though I knew he wasn't there. It was pure instinct, I guess, resulting in receiving his heavy, well-placed punches to my face. It would have all been worth it if Merle had just come the fuck home.

I closed my throat out of pure reflex when I could feel Dad's climax flood my mouth, causing me to gag. I even managed to spit some of it out, but his hand soon slammed into my already bloody mouth and painful nose. Then, he sat down next to me, trying to catch his breath and smiling. I winced in disgust and pain while I desperately tried to get away. But he held me in a powerful death grip, it was no use. Worse - I could feel the disgusting cum almost multiplying in my mouth as I refused to give in.

Annoyed with my stubbornness, he made sure I wasn't able to breathe at all. He hissed at me to swallow, over and over again. I shook my head with tears streaming down my face. Humiliation, anger and the confusion over why he did this sick shit to me made the panic less overwhelming. As my vision blackened out before my eyes, I grasped at his hands, trying to make him let go of my throat. Eventually I had to swallow and the bastard kept his grip on me to make sure I it all went down. Afterwards, he tussled my hair with fake sympathy and dried off my tears under my eyes with his thumbs.

'It's so infuriatin', ain't it? Merle jus' left ya like that with me again when ya need him so badly. See ya later, son.' He thankfully got up and left.

For the life of me, I hated to cry, everything about it. But I couldn't help it. I uttered a few shaking breaths and then I was done for. I sobbed like a child just like the night before but now with my throat hurting and lips throbbing. Feeling so much shame and disgust, I could barely handle it and I curled up on my bed. I was hugging my pillow tight when I heard the door creak slowly open.

My whole body went rigid as a plank as I tried to suck in panicky gasps of air. These turned into a long shuddery sigh of exhaustion when I realised that the visitor was Merle and not Dad. He'd come back! And he was relatively sober! My relief didn't last long; however, as my anger took over for his previous coldness and indifference.

For his absences when I needed him the most.

I sat up and turned around to face him. He looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face, which made me stare down at my hands, anywhere but at him, out of shame.

'You okay, Daryl?' He asked softly, more like himself.

He came over to my bed. 'Hey, sorry 'bout that earlier. I wanted to do somethin', ya know that...'

'Whatever, man.' I tried to hide away from his prying eyes, but no such luck. He was now standing right in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. 'What's wrong with ya face? Let me see.'

Damn him to hell, I knew he wasn't going to go until I showed him, so I reluctantly looked up.

He reached over, making me flinch at his sudden movement, while panic rose in my chest. Merle frowned, confused when he noticed my reaction and gave me one of his rare pats on the back.

'Hey, why ya so jumpy, huh? And why ya lips swollen?'

I didn't want to talk about it just then, especially to him.

'Get out, Merle. Get out, get the FUCK out!' I yelled.

Merle's expression remained as puzzled as when he came in, and he closed the door. I could hear him muttering something that sounded like 'cranky little shit' under his breath. That made me bite down on my pillow in pure frustration that turned into a muffled scream. My throat hurt like hell and my lips continued to throb.

I couldn't tell Merle shit, he had to see Dad and me for himself. But he was always missing every sick little hint, touch and stare, all of it just flew right by him. Granted, it had only been 1 day but something deep inside me told me that he needed to catch Dad in the act. Not least because I didn't have the words to tell him the things our father did to me.

At that moment, something else than despair filled me up.

Hope.

'