Chapter 66: Call it what it is
So, here it is. Will it be the Day of Reckoning for Dad? I hope so. It seems like he wants to get caught out by Merle.
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Daryl
The next day he didn't let me off. Asshole was determined to come inside me and he was also on edge since he'd only barely managed to convince Merle yesterday that everything had just been in his head. But I knew that the danger of getting caught excited him too and a big part of him wanted to let my brother in on the secret. Was anticipating his reaction while I was dreading Merle finding out and believing it for real yet I also wanted him to.
'Now, ya did good yesterday keepin' our littl' secret to ourselves...but I think he's still suspicious. How could he believe that his dear old Dad would do that? 'Sides, ya like it, don't ya, son?'
'No, I fuckin' don't! And when he catches ya for real, he's gonna saw ya dick off!'
That little outburst of insolence earned me a black eye to go with my busted nose from yesterday when he punched me hard with his closed fist. Usually he just slapped me around these days (was wary of his promise to Merle) so I grinned a little to think that maybe I had got to him because what I said was the truth.
'Now, now...' He suddenly changed his tune and stroked my hair. 'No need to pretend 'cos ya feel guilty...It's perfectly natural.' He started to prepare me, taking his sweet time with the lube and his fingers. I squirmed to try and get away from them.
'Yeah, yeah, ya like it alright.'
'No, I fuckin' don't 'cos it fuckin' hurts!'
He pulled out the two fingers he had stuffed inside me. I whimpered because he did it so roughly and it burned and stung! 'Daddy don't. Ya hurtin' me.' I hadn't meant for our old name for him to slip out from my mouth but it just did.
He cuffed me then. 'Don't try ya tricks on me. Don't think tryin' to make me feel guilty is gonna stop me havin' my way with ya like last time.'
He finished getting me ready and with a swinish grunt, slid inside in a hurry.
'I think ya brother is still at home...imagine him walkin' in on us again...Maybe I could get him to join in...' He mused before he started to thrust.
I lay there too terrified to move. Because what if Merle was high again and Dad managed to persuade him? I had trouble picturing how he could do that because I didn't think Merle would do it because he was always so damn protective of me. At times, even overprotective – when there wasn't really a threat and as far as I knew my big brother was as straight as a die. But then Dad had always been a raging homophobe yet it didn't stop him from fucking me. His first excuse was that I had got caught shoplifting but it hadn't stopped there. Maybe if Merle was out of it enough which he seemed to be most of the time lately, maybe Dad could even convince him that I was a willing girl who liked it threeways – especially with father and son. I knew that it was possible because Merle had told him about one girl like that at school...not that he had ever shared her with Dad as far as I knew. No, he would probably tell Merle that I was a junkie prostitute who would agree to do anything for money to get her next fix. Nothing was too low for the depraved piece of shit and he was getting bored with raping me – I could tell and was looking for other ways to 'punish' me more and spice up things. The worst thing was how Merle would feel when he found out later what he'd done because for sure the sick fuck wouldn't be shy in telling him and that way he could 'punish' both of us at the same time.
I trembled and stopped struggling because I was terrified now for my brother's sake. I bowed my head submissively and even stopped pleading with him to stop which I knew he liked. He was right, it never did any good anyway. Maybe it had worked yesterday when I'd attacked his parenting and his fatherhood but it wouldn't work again, I knew that. He was wise now to those tricks.
'Maybe even dress ya up as a girl…ya Mama's clothes must be around here somewhere', he paused for effect and to lick his lips while I let out a small sound of disgust, '…probably in one of those storage boxes up there.' He looked up towards the attic in the ceiling. 'Always said I never could throw memories of her away.'
'Shut up, ya sick fuck! How can ya do this shit to me and talk about her memory in the same breath?' I was sickened but couldn't vomit in front of him. Not that I had anything in my stomach anyway.
He shook his head and tutted instead of physically punishing me like I'd braced myself for.
And carried right on!
'Maybe with some bright red lipstick and make-up, maybe a blond wig thrown in… He has a thing for dumb blondes…' He mused aloud for my benefit and chuckled evilly down at me. 'Ya ain't still got a man's body…could look like a girl if I dress ya up right.'
'Fuck you! Ya can't make him do nothin'!' I was fuming!
'Ya sure 'bout that? I made him believe what I wanted him to yesterday and he saw me doing it to you with his own two eyes! Under the influence, he's mighty suggestible and yesterday proves it. Well, if that don't work, I'll dress him up instead and do it to him. Make ya watch. How would ya like that, son? Do ya wanna see him get fucked by me too?'
I pushed down my fear for myself and thought of what him doing the same to him would do to Merle. After all, hadn't I been fantasizing about being with him anyway, sick as it was and secretly comparing him all the time to Dad in my head?
'No, please. Don't hurt him...I'll... I'll let ya do anythin' ya want to me...jus'…jus'…'.
'Hurt him?' He asked incredulously. 'I ain't gonna hurt him or you – I'm ya father!' He panted with fake hurt.
'What do ya call this then?' I muttered and then cried out in pain as he suddenly upped the tempo and deliberately changed his angle to reach deeper inside. As if forcing me to make good on my promise.
'And as for ya lettin' me do anythin' I want...Don't look like ya got a choice, does it, sweetheart?' He gasped between moans and started to grunt as he really got going at me and I prayed silently that he was going to come soon.
His hand fisted my shirt as his arm curled around my waist, keeping me pinned tightly against him. He did this to remind me of his superior strength and that he had the upper-hand just as much as he kept me steady to be able to reach as deep inside as he could. To remind me that I was his. His chin was resting on my shoulder and every once in a while, he kissed the side of my neck taking my shivers to a whole new level.
'You just keep fightin' me boy, and I'll use the knife on ya at the same time.' I gasped in terror – it wasn't an empty threat; he'd done it to me before. Also seeing it lying there certainly made me think twice about giving him backchat or pleading uselessly for him to stop, not to mention keeping my struggling to a minimum. But sometimes I just couldn't help myself and he would usually laugh or threaten me with the knife that was in my direct line of vision.
Like I always tried to do when it all became too much for me, I focused on something in front of me and emptied my thoughts. This time my eyes were focused on the door handle.
I came back to my body pretty quickly and to the pain of his brutal thrusts when I disbelievingly saw it move! Maybe now was the moment of my deliverance, finally!
In no time at all, I felt my father's lips against my throat being replaced with metal cold on my skin after he reached over and grabbed it. He was still going at me and muttered that it felt too good for him to stop now despite I knew he must have seen what I saw.
I just couldn't handle him looking at me in that way any longer. He looked hurt, and most of all guilty. Before I closed my eyes to shut out my brother, I could tell that he was close to tears of rage as he stared at our father who to my disbelief and horror, was still moving inside me. Just like yesterday, in fact. Difference was, Merle was relatively sober – at least enough to process what he was seeing.
'What the fuck ya doin' to my baby brother, ya sick bastard?' He half-ran forward but was stopped by a look from our father.
A raw wave of relentless shame hit my entire body, if it had been a punch, it would definitely have knocked me out cold. Sure, I wanted Merle to know, but it was something different entirely hearing him utter those words with his face a mask covering all emotions of the rainbow. Well, except for any nice feelings like I don't know - happiness and excitement that is. Feelings I think I remembered from an eternity ago.
'It was you all along?' Merle asked incredulously, the pain standing out on his face.
Our father just answered by moaning in my ear prompting Merle to move a little closer. Automatically dad proved his point without need of speech by pressing in the knife at a slight upward angle and just barely pricking my throat making my breathing speed up with my increasing panic. I guessed it wasn't lost on my brother either, as I could easily see him fighting all kinds of different emotions. He had half-turned, probably thinking about heading for the door once he realized he wouldn't be able to help me before it was over. Or most likely, couldn't deal with this shit – needed time to process it and make a plan.
'Stay!' Our father barked between moans. 'Don't ya fuckin' dare leave like ya did yesterday and break ya little brother's heart all over again. He needed you and ya left him!'
No, don't let him get to you, Merle! I thought at him hard when I saw him falter, a look of guilt and shame cross his face as he bowed his head. Don't let him fuck with your head and make you weak! You're stronger than him!
'You'll watch this until I'm done. For ya brother's sake.' Dad's insistent cold voice drawled at him, making my brother stop dead in his tracks as he turned around with great difficulty to face us fully.
To my intense relief and joy, Merle recovered. 'What's wrong with ya? Get the fuck off him!'
'Well, that ain't never gonna happen.'
The sick fuck deliberately angled himself deeper mostly to get more of those sounds of pain and protest out of me as I had clammed shut since my brother had entered the room, refusing to give in. A part of him did this to taunt Merle too, and to let him know that he was powerless to stop him.
'Ya sick bastard, least ya can do is take it easy on him!' Merle didn't raise his voice, I guess he was in too much shock and forgetting what our father had ordered, his eyes skirted elsewhere – anywhere but fixed on us. I have to admit I couldn't blame him. 'Oh, no you don't! I told ya to watch!'
He really upped his game then and I couldn't hold back anymore and cried out as a snapped his hips just in the right way for it to really hurt. He even managed to make me panic enough for me to whisper to my horrified brother to actually look, for him to make it stop even though I knew it wasn't fair.
'All right! STOP! Don't hurt him any more than ya already have, ya piece of shit!'
Even though he tried to hide it, I saw him wipe his eyes angrily before he forced himself to look once more.
It seemed to take the bastard forever to come, he was dragging the torture out as long as he could, the power he had over us finally had gone to his head. He wasn't pressing the blade so hard into my skin anymore but that was barely a relief because he still didn't take it away. Worse – he was planting wet kisses of ownership like a dog all down my neck in front of my brother while I cringed awaybefore he forced one last cry of pain out of me before he finally came. It had seemed to take him forever.
Merle was at his breaking point judging by the looks of it. Shaking and trembling like me and clearly wanting to turn away since he couldn't stop it but was unable to. In the end, he stood up straight and forced himself to be a witness. Out of guilt and concern for me, I supposed.
Daryl
I wasn't surprised that his hips didn't stop moving even though he was done. For my brother's benefit who was in a kind of forced thrall, he deliberately lingered inside, making my brother snarl and adding to my sense of humiliation and revulsion. The old bastard never missed a trick. After he released his grip on me by loosening his arms, I sagged down like a sack of potatoes onto my bed. Felt like one too – all heavy and not even possessing the strength to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell my brother was struggling to obey Dad's orders and stay where he was and not help me or comfort me.
Incredibly, Dad kept his cool and shot us both a smile that urged me to try my luck with Merle there and escape. Yet, even with him there, I knew it was a long shot. Unfortunately, I was proven right when Dad effortlessly exploited his natural authority over us as he barked: 'Don't move! Either of ya!'
I could sense both pairs of eyes checking me out but our father's lacked my brother's concern. Of course, he was lost in admiring the results of his labor. He'd once again reduced me a trembling, sticky and bloody mess. Leaving me too terrified to move as usual.
Merle stared at us, back and forth. He seemed a bit more like himself and threw me a packet of napkins which I caught midair, wincing from the pain that simple movement caused me. Pain inside and all over but before I knew it, Merle had pushed Dad away from me. I had barely time to react then when I saw the person with a knife against his throat now was our father.
'How does it feel with the shoe on the other foot, coward?' Merle hissed in his ear but loudly enough for me to hear as he breathed heavily like he was trying desperately to rein in his emotions.
'Ya like pickin' on kids, don't ya? Oh yeah, should've remembered the shit ya used to do to us.' Merle snarled at Dad who smiled and ominously didn't seem to be aware of his precarious situation. I could tell by his soulless and empty black eyes that Merle was more than ready to make him the third man he'd punished to edge of his life (although deep-down I still believed he'd killed Mike) just because he hurt me! No matter if he helped give us life!
And a huge wave of relief just washed over me. It was over! No more beatings, or 'punishments' with his fucking knife or his cigarettes or rapes or forced blow-jobs ever again! And we'd leave. We'd have to then. I didn't know what he planned to do with Dad…I couldn't think that far ahead. Or maybe I didn't give a shit. I was out of there and that was all that mattered. To forget him and start a brand-new life with my brother someplace else.
Hopefully, as far away as we could get.
How little did I know. I thought that I could forget?
What a little idiot.
Anyway, judging by his body-language I didn't know why Merle even bothered to try and calm himself down because he was clearly failing. Thinking back on how angry he'd been when Dad had told the lie about Rogers, you could easily multiply by hundreds if not thousands that very wrath he was directing at our unflinching father.
'Fuckin' sack of shit! How could ya do that to him? After that shitbag Mike and his teacher? This goes way beyond cuttin' us with ya fuckin' knife or whippin' us with ya belt. That was bad enough. But this… this is fuckin' sick!'
The threat was clear in his voice and even when Merle nicked his skin, he didn't have the common sense to shut up. Or at least put on an act and pretend to be sorry. If anything, his sleazy grin grew even wider.
When our father didn't answer, Merle continued his rant at him. 'Sure, I've been drunk and outta it with drugs a lot lately. But I can still separate fantasy from reality, though, no matter what shit I've been takin'. I guess I refused to get it before 'cos it's so fuckin' twisted! And I guess this was what he wanted me to see the other day at the cabin. Shit.'
'He sure has been trying to tell ya in his own little way, got to give him that.' They both looked at me, my father with fake pity that was somehow worse.
My brother paused and his eyes narrowed above my father's head. 'Was that even true about Rogers or did ya jus' make it up and set me on him to distract me from the truth? Even though he admitted that he'd done it he said that Daryl went to him after ya beat the shit out of him one day but I didn't believe him. 'Cos most people would say anythin' when they're bein' tortured...Did ya make me beat an innocent guy into a coma, fucker?'
I gasped when he mentioned 'tortured' and flinched for Carl. After all, he'd only been good to me and helped me as best as he could. In a way, he'd given me sanctuary. Yet why was I so shocked at my older brother's revenge? I knew that Merle could be vicious and dangerous...especially when it came to protecting me. He'd turned on Mike without a shred of guilt or remorse quick as a snake when I know he used to love him too after Dad told him what he tried to do to me. But I understood why he'd done that. To Mike at least.
Also – what about the source of all that cash in his sport bag from when he disappeared for weeks on end? How he got his money so much and so fast worried me but I didn't ask. Only focused on getting out from under Dad's roof. Besides, it was one of the Dixon's unwritten rules not to. I refused to allow myself to wonder what my brother did to my math teacher before he beat him so severely that he ended up in hospital with temporary brain-damage. Luckily, I'd heard he'd eventually recovered with 1 or 2 permanent effects like a tremor in his hand but was more or less the same and despite what everyone else might think about him, I was relieved.
True, Carl had scared me the first time by coming on too strong when I was only 15 but in the end, I'd fled to his house after Dad had really hurt me in more ways than one because Merle was away and not coming back for a long time. After that particularly bad beating, I feared for my life. Not least because of what he'd done to me before and after it. Also, what he was also threatening me to do.
I hadn't really wanted to go to Mr. Rogers, he had been my last resort. I knew what the man wanted from me and knew that nothing was free in this life but he had saved me from Dad. Back then, I would have done anything to escape our father. And Carl hadn't forced me to do anything or hurt me like my father always did and after a few days I'd even let him screw me. I'd enjoyed it too and the other things we did but no way was I going to tell any of this to them. The whole time he'd let me know that even if we didn't do anything, he wouldn't kick me out ...that it wasn't part of the deal. That I could say 'No' anytime and he'd stop, the opposite of my father and I'd believed him. No way had he deserved what Merle did to him but I blamed Dad for that. The hypocrisy of the bastard was unbelievable and he would just twist anything I said anyway.
I was snapped out of my reverie of the why's and the when's by my father's laughter at my hapless brother. 'Why, why, I do believe ya catchin' on fast, son.' Was his mocking reply.
'Don't worry, that teacher was no innocent...never had a woman that anyone knew of – must have been a fag and a pervert. Ya must have heard the talk about him preyin' on his own students – boys just like Daryl in his class? I wasn't lyin' to ya - the bastard did touch ya brother – must have done more than that otherwise why was he cryin' in my arms for days after it happened? The poor kid was only 15. Ya remember the state Daryl was in, don't ya, Merle? That was all down to Mr. Carl Rogers. Why did ya only put him in hospital and not kill him like I wanted ya to?'
Merle grunted and his hand holding the knife slackened slightly like our father had anticipated. I badly wanted to call out 'Watch Out'. I wished he would shut Dad up so that we could tie him up or something.
'What did he do to ya after he kidnapped ya, son? Before I rescued ya? Ya never did tell us...' Dad would have shook his head in fake sympathy at me but he couldn't, not with the knife. 'Ya poor boy'. He sighed sadly.
I said nothing and bowed my head to look at the floor while the shame and rage almost overwhelmed me. Clenched my fists and bit back the retort that was on my lips. Why let the crazy bastard know that he had got to me?
Merle wasn't falling for this bullshit either. He knew that he was only trying to distract us so he could turn the tables on us. Yet, he couldn't resist the secrets Dad was feeding him, drip by drip.
'Shut the fuck up, ya hypocritical sack of shit. I don't think he wants to talk about that and besides, after what ya were doin' to him, ya no better! No worse- 'cos ya our father!'
I just shrugged. Thinking how it was all old news and I was over Mike and Mr. Rogers.
Dad looked at me too, smirking even though Merle was holding a knife to his throat. 'Tremblin' and quakin' with nightmares days after, jus' like the little pussy he is. Least it gave me an excuse to touch him...'
Merle snarled and pressed the blade edge further into the bastard's flesh. 'I said 'Shut up', ya fuckin' pervert and don't ya dare look at him! He ain't no pussy and besides, who could blame him with the shit ya were doin' to him? How long's it been goin' on?'
'Don't forget that fuckin' filthy teacher. Weren't all me.' Our father muttered as if trying to excuse himself but did as he was told and looked down at the ground. Meanwhile, I could see Merle's grip of him sliding and becoming dangerously loose.
Merle ignored him. 'Daryl, go and find some rope...ya know where it is. Find somethin' to gag him with too, so that we don't have to listen to his shit no more.' Meanwhile, he'd almost taken the knife away from Dad's throat, becoming almost relaxed and sure that we were safe.
He should never have underestimated him.
'Merle, watch out...' I began when I saw that sly gleam flash in Dad's eyes that meant he was planning something.
'Daryl, I told ya to...' He looked at me and while he was distracted, Dad flipped them so he was the one on top! With the blade pressed against my brother's throat! Even years after, I could never figure out how it happened, how Dad had got the upper-hand. How he managed it but then he was still bigger and heavier than either of us, even my big brother. And a whole lot slyer too.
'Dad...' I breathed.
Merle was looking at me with wide eyes and begging me for help and I could tell he was scared because he realised that he didn't know who our father was anymore.
He knew now that he was capable of anything.
'Now, boys.' Dad nicked Merle's throat for good measure – just a warning. Not deep enough to do any damage – the cut wouldn't even leave a permanent scar but it made him wince. I could see my big brother struggling not to cry out or show his fear and that was the only time in my life that I could recall him looking afraid and out of his depth.
'Please, don't kill him! He was jus' protectin' me, was all.' I cried out to him but he ignored me.
'I should kill ya, Merle for that. Puttin' a knife to ya own father! How dare ya?'
Ain't nothin' ya ain't done to us before, bastard. I thought furiously to myself but didn't dare say it out loud. Not when he was threatening Merle like that.
Merle was staring at me, mouth gaping like a drowning fish and it moving silently but no words were coming out. I couldn't even read his lips.
Dad's voice grew hard then as he addressed me with equally stone flint eyes. 'Now, ya do what I say, little man, otherwise I'll gut ya precious big brother like a pig and ya'll be all left alone with me. How would ya like that, honeybun?'
Merle's eyes flew open wide with terror and it was clear that he totally believed our psycho father's threats. Me too, I knew Dad would never forgive this little insurrection and he held on to grudges like a bear with a hurt paw. I knew Merle was worried for me as well, being left at Dad's tender mercies, alone without him and not only fearing for himself.
It was just too much and I started to tremble at the thought of Merle dead. And all because of me!
'Please, Dad, don't kill him. We'll do whatever ya say. Jus' don't hurt him.' Tears were running down my face for my brother but I didn't care. I couldn't give a shit about me...I was used to Dad. Meanwhile, Merle just stared blankly at me and I wondered if he had taken any drugs that day...ones with a delayed effect, maybe? But I knew better. He was in shock and with a sinking heart, I realised that he had given up fighting Dad.
'Sh... It's OK, Daryl. It's OK. Don't cry, baby. Don't cry.' Dad soothed me in the exact same gentle tone I recognized from when he told me that Mike wasn't my fault after he attacked me. When I was just 13 and small for my age. He'd called me 'baby' then too which he rarely did. Only when something truly terrible happened and he badly wanted to comfort me. Definitely against the Dixon code of honour but he didn't care and neither did I.
Like after Mama had died when I was 8. I'd forgotten about that. Well – not her dyin' – that was terrible and stuck in my memory but the way he'd held me on his lap and rocked us when Merle wasn't around.
Dad hadn't meant 'baby' like that then but now it had a whole new meaning. Or did it?
He's said nothing to Merle to make him feel better as far as I could recall (him comforting me had been the first of our 'little secrets' and now I shivered at the memory) not even at her funeral and my brother had acted like he didn't need it. Just got on with his life.
But he did, I could tell. No matter how hard a shell he presented to the rest of the world, I knew him inside and out. Knew he was hurting and missed her just as much as me.
It didn't matter. I still didn't trust our father. Especially when he tightened his grip on my helpless brother while talking to me in that same gentle, fatherly tone he used on me sometimes before he completely lost his mind. He had one of my brother's arms twisted behind him, something Merle didn't do to him to subdue him – big mistake – and was pushing it up his back. Just then he twisted it some more, causing my brother to let out an involuntary cry of pain that made me stupidly step forward and wince. Dad's message was very clear.
'Everythin'll be OK if ya both do what I tell ya to.' The crazy bastard continued. 'That goes for ya, especially, my sweet Daryl.'
My brother's eyes narrowed in rage at him calling me that. But still he was unable to speak. Not with the threat of Dad's hunting knife - his favourite and the very one he'd used to cut us with.
'Don't look scared, Daddy ain't gonna hurt you. Ya jus' be a good boy and do everythin' I say and then Daddy won't have to kill ya big brother right in front of ya.'
The asshole's creepy last words made my heart skip a beat. Merle's eyes widened in terror and he looked imploringly at me. But I was as powerless to help him as he had been with me.
'No, don't ya fuckin' dare touch him! Let him the fuck go, asshole!'. I snarled at him in stupid rage and then realised what I'd just said.
Just like throwing a red rag to a bull with rabies.
Luckily, Dad merely smiled, probably pleased to see me show some backbone while still not letting up on his hold on a speechless Merle who had grown pale. Seeing him scared was the scariest thing I'd ever seen and I realised that we were in deep shit. Because what was the next move he had planned for us? Those sick threats he'd frightened me with before?
'Now, this is what's gonna happen.' He announced as if reading my mind. He muscled Merle up with him as he stood up, still holding the knife blade to his throat and making my heart jackhammer in my chest, praying that he wouldn't suddenly lose it and decide to kill my big brother just to punish us.
Well, mainly to punish me. Crazy fucker was capable of anything.
His next words filled my heart with heavy dread. 'We're gonna have some fun and games together, boys.'
