73: Unforgivable

Is Merle just like Dad? Can he resist temptation when Dad has already put ideas in his head? Maybe he might not mean to but he's drugged up and boozed up and they are both cooped up together making for something possibly explosive to happen.

Will he hurt Daryl?

Please leave a review if you like this chapter or even if you don't. Any feedback is useful. I added old material in bold I forgot.

Merle

Trying to not see him and distract myself from what I really wanted from him but seeing him enjoying himself and moaning next to my ear had all been worth it. So, I tore through the bags of shit – meth, coke and 1 or 2 happy pills I had with me – anything to distract myself. He refused them all, just stuck with the alcohol and fags. Guess he'd had enough of being forced to take drugs by our sick fuck of a father.

Of course, I was lying to him when I said I didn't want him to do anything to me to pay me back for the sheer pleasure I'd given him with only my hand. If he only knew what heights I could take him to if he just let me use my mouth on him, better still – if he let me take him completely… my dick twitched at that thought.

Still,I knew he was halfway where I wanted him to be and that it was only a matter of time if I kept on showing him a good time, even better than that scumbag Rogers – boy always insisted the bastard didn't force him but I never believed that.

Not for one second.

Besides, anyone who didn't treat him like Mike had or Dad did must have seemed like a saint in comparison.

He must have manipulated him or pressurised him one way or another – dickwads like him would have expected payback for giving him shelter and the food. I still had zero regrets for what I did except maybe only 1 – I hadn't put that sick dog down.

No doubt even the water he used in the shower and the electricity he would have toted up – just like the old pervert did. But – no, Daryl denied he ever did anything wrong after the first time that was, even smiled a little when he talked about him yet there was a persistent shadow in his eyes. Because I knew that deep down my brother knew that 'Mr Rogers' was just like all the other creeps, just more subtle and less brutal about it, I guess.

I had an image then strike me in all its nightmarish glory – Daryl panting and moaning, writhing under his high school math teacher, calling out his name, 'Ya the best,Carl!.

Looked at him then and narrowed my eyes. Nosoon ya'll be crying out my name, little brother. And calling me the best ya ever had.

Maybe he could hear my thoughts because it hurt me how he immediately cringed away from me and curled up in foetal position. Just like he must have fine hundreds of times with him.

Them.

'Daryl…'

He didn't say anything but curled up in an even tighter ball without replying or looking up at me. My heart cracked. Was he scared of me?

Maybe he should be. Because I still wanted him and the things Dad had made us do seemed to give me permission. But I was no rapist, was I?

I'd never forced myself on anyone in my life before. Hated that shit – the thought of doing it with an unwilling girl made me want to puke. Especially despised child molesters. Plus, I had put men in hospital who abused and done worse to them. But the meth and other drugs and Dad was messing up my head and I didn't know if I could control myself. Probably I should go and sleep in my own room but couldn't risk leaving him alone or Dad finding out I wasn't fulfilling my side of the bargain.

To be honest, I was surprised he agreed so easily and believed me and let us have this second night alone together. I must have put on a real good show. Too good – because now my baby brother didn't trust me, apparently.

But he turned me on, no denying that.

Now he was just laying there with his eyes squeezed closed as if trying to shut out the world with me in it. I couldn't understand why when I'd only given him pleasure before. He'd even curled up against me afterwards, demanding that I hold him on the bed but now he was acting like I was going to hurt him. I couldn't understand it. I could only put it down to him being unable to trust anybody – not even me, after all the shit he'd gone through. It wasn't just Dad after all.

I tried again. 'Daryl, I'm really not going to hurt you. I haven't done so far, have I?' I didn't risk touching him just then. Would only have freaked him out more.

He seemed to find himself as he sat up in rage to face me. 'I really liked what ya did in the shower but it was wrong! We're as sick as he is! Ya shouldn't touch me ever again – not like that!'

'I won't do nothin' ya don't want me to.' I beckoned him over and offered him the spliff – now I was down to that shit that didn't do much for me but I hoped it would calm him down and make him trust me again. Hopefully become all needy and cuddly… Lost in my thoughts, I let out a little laugh without meaning to. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'

His eyes flew wide in confusion. 'Ya know Dad and Mike said that exact thing to me, even that fuckin' cop and it didn't mean shit? They went ahead and did what they wanted to anyway.

'Cept I guess my school teacher was the only one who meant it when he said he wasn't goin' to do nothing I didn't want…' But he shuddered when he mentioned Rogers and I kicked myself again for the millionth time for not putting him in the ground permanently. He'd hurt other boys even if my brother refused to count himself among them. Wished I'd done something sooner – hadn't reacted until he targeted my own little brother.

I frowned in confusion yet at the same time I was glad to see he wasn't completely beaten down. 'What cop? And Rogers did hurt you even if you don't believe it.'

He clammed up then and squeezed his lips tight. Like he'd let slip more than he'd meant to.

'Jus' sick of assholes saying that to me…' He finally handed me back the roll-up. I took a deep drag – talking about this shit weren't easy on me, neither. Especially now there was some other man who had taken advantage of him. But I knew the allure of him – he was so damn beautiful.

'Did a cop hurt ya too? Who? What did he do?'

He shrugged his shoulder and I knew he was just regretting his outburst. 'Forget it. You weren't here.' Was I sure I didn't detect a hint of reproach when he said that?

'Tell me…' I coaxed. I badly wanted to know the name of the pervert so I could teach him a lesson.

With my fists or my blow-torch. How many other kids like my brother had he hurt?

'No, Merle. The creep won't be bothering me again – didn't really hurt me, not like them anyway and I ain't gonna tell ya. Jus' so you can put another man in hospital or maybe even kill him but maybe this time end up in jail?'

Giving up – anyway, I didn't really want to hear more of his suffering if I was honest with myself, I reached under his bed and sighed with relief when I found the half-full bottle of whiskey. I'd stashed it there last night. Couldn't remember if we'd finished it or not.

I handed it to him first, along with the spliff, hoping it would calm him down and make him more trusting. Even his bobbing Adam's apple got me all hot and bothered as I watched him gulp most of it down shakily before I took it away from him. The fear was back in his eyes as I finished the bottle, so I approached him slowly. Even so, he backed further away from me on the bed, taking more panicky deep drags before he put the other spliff I'd rolled out and tossed it into the bin. Even that movement turned me on!

Anyway, I stopped in my tracks. 'What is it, little brother?' I asked him softly. 'Why ya scared of old Merle?'

'I ain't.' But his trembling betrayed him. Like it always did lately, even though I knew he wasn't weak or a coward. Far from it in fact.

'I ain't gonna hurt ya.' I whispered, all the time, thinking how much I wanted to kiss those quivering lips. Would he let me?

Probably not.

'M...Merle.' He looked up at me then, pleading with me. He glanced back at the door and I knew what he was thinking.

'Ya better off stayin' here with me, baby brother.'

He frowned, didn't seem convinced. I had to push harder.

'Ya know he's out there, jus' waitin' for ya to come out? I heard him outside just minutes ago.' I lied.

He glanced at me with increased terror and I hadn't intended to add to his fear, but I didn't want him to go either.

'Come here, boy. I'll keep ya safe. Merle won't let him hurt ya, promise. Remember how good I made ya feel before?'

That got him and he nodded then looked at me hopefully then while all I could think of was getting him closer to me – So I could put my arms round him, make him feel safe, like he deserved. Maybe even kiss him if he wanted to again. After all, we'd done it before and it was hardly a big deal after all the things we'd already been made to do to each other.

I felt myself swelling down there, and I hoped, prayed he wouldn't notice. But despite everything he was still so innocent or maybe he just wasn't looking down there – why would he? I was his big brother for fuck's sake.

He reluctantly shortened the distance between us and sat next to me on the bed. I leaned over slightly, to make my erection less noticeable.

'When we gonna kill the sick fuck?' He suddenly snarled, at odds with his tear-filled eyes and quivering lips. 'I want it over.'

The contrast making me harder for him even, at the same time as I drew back in shock. Was this really my gentle brother speaking? Sure he could be hard as nails when he had to be but wanting our dad dead didn't sound like him at all – he wasn't that bitter or hateful yet I couldn't blame him.

'Soon, baby brother, soon.' I soothed. 'Jus' got to plan it real good so we don't get caught. Don't worry – ya won't have to do nothin' in front of him tomorrow. I jus' don't want to go to jail on account of that sack of shit. It would be like he won, ya know?'

He nodded then apparently with relief. Bowed his head and I couldn't help but put an arm around him. And he let me then, sagging against my heart.

'I'm so tired, Merle.'

'I know.' I brushed back the dark, glossy bangs hanging in his eyes. He sighed and curled into me.

'M...Merle.'

'Sh...It's OK. Beautiful inside and out.' I couldn't help repeating what I'd said before – he glowed at it as I whispered it against his hair. 'Dad can never take what ya are inside, baby brother. Ya still beautiful inside and out.'

'Ya think?' He looked at me with such sweet, childlike hope, I couldn't resist him. So, I knelt down and bumped my lips with his. He drew back in surprise. Just like we'd never kissed before.

'Wha...what ya doin',Merle?' His voice starting to rise in panic. Just like we hadn't kissed before.

'Nothin', little brother. Only want to show ya it's true. Jus' a kiss, is all – we, we done it before, remember?'

''Course I ..after…after what he made us do...'

'But ya liked it, I mean the kissin' part at least, didn't ya? And the stuff in the shower. Ya said ya did.'

But then I saw the flash of anger, the confusion and panic in his eyes – realized what I'd said. It sounded like I was putting thoughts in his head, forcing him to take responsibility for his own words almost. And I knew what made him panic, because he had most definitely hadn't enjoyed me getting rough with him – pretending like I was getting ready to fuck him – even if it had only been pretend to make Dad finally leave. I'd tried to make it up to him with the hand job but it was like he'd forgotten all about that.

'Kissin' ya and what we did in the shower was OK but I didn't like the rest of it! With the meth!'

'Aw, that weren't too bad, was it? And ya tellin' me ya didn't like it when he made me touch ya the first time?'

He stiffened immediately, got up from the bed in a flash, away from me.

'I admit I liked it when you…you…touched me like that… not in front of him (he spat out that last word)…but it... all of it was wrong!' He hissed.'Guess I jus'…I jus' needed…'

'I liked what you did to me. All of it.' I smiled back in what I hoped was a reassuring way.

Obviously not.'The sick fuck made me – made us! And ya shouldn't have liked it neither!' He was putting even more distance between us.

'Come on, little brother. Ya already said that kissin' me weren't so bad, was it? And what I did to ya in the shower? I ain't ugly like the old fuck, am I? I didn't hurt ya. Said I'd stop if ya told me to.' And incredibly, I saw him lick his lips – probably wasn't even aware of doing it himself and a tremble of lust quivered through me. I saw something in his eyes spark because I knew he was lying to himself. Still clinging to the bullshit rules of what people said was right and wrong when our father hadn't cared.

'Ya in charge.' I said to him, meeting his gaze head-on.

Those words of mine seemed to change everything. Suddenly, I saw the need burn in his eyes as he strode over to me, all bold of a sudden and he sat down in my lap. Wound his arms round the back of my head seductively and kissed me passionately. I was more than ready for him and had already opened my mouth eagerly. He growled deep in his throat. Him sitting on top of my erection was too much but he didn't seem to notice, or he devilishly ignored it. Didn't wiggle on it to give me a lap-dance like I was dying for him to do.

I took my sweet time with the kiss – I'd got him this far again and he was pretty jumpy these days.

Understandably.

Wouldn't take much to scare him off if I tried something too much too soon. I wanted so much more, nothing seemed to be enough when it came to him. All I really wanted to do was to turn him over and pin him to the bed and ravish him.

But I held back and while we were kissing although my erection took over my train of thoughts almost completely. He shifted slightly making a groan escape my throat into his mouth. Reminding me of the way I came from his mouth earlier. If that felt amazing, what would it be like fucking him for real? Mind-blowing – I was pretty sure. I noticed by his movements then that he'd noticed. By some miracle, he didn't get up in panic from where he was.

When my hand snaked down between his legs to touch him there, he moaned and let it even linger for a few seconds before he guiltily got off me in a hurry. But I took this as a sign of encouragement that I could get him to cave in eventually.

'What the fuck ya doin', Merle?' He panted, breathless from our French-kissing. He was all blushing cheeks and his hair was rendered all wild and tousled by my hands. It was all I could do not to grab him right then and there.

I shrugged, also trying to get my breath back. I was now harder than ever. I knew I'd have to take care of that – one way or another even if he wasn't willing to help me with it.

'Can't ya go take care of that somewhere else?' He bit out, reading my mind again and he narrowed his eyes.

'Why'd ya freak out for, I wasn't hurtin' ya. Only want ya to feel good for once, is all.'

'Why do I need ya for that?' He teased me with a sly grin. I laughed at that.

'Because I can show ya things ya never knew was doable. And its always better when smeone else does it for ya, you know? You'll never find someone that takes care of ya the way I can. Nobody knows ya the way your big brother does. Think about it for a second.'

His eyelids fluttered at that, before he closed them. Despite him playing hard to get out if some misplaced sense of guilt which our father had never had, I saw his eyes light up with excitement. And just like when i made him moan when I touched him, I knew I could have my little brother, only had to be patient.

'Come on, get back here, I won't hurt ya or do nothin' ya don't want, promise.'

He sighed and decided to take his chances.

I pushed my luck by scooting closer to him, he gave me a hard stare at that, but otherwise didn't react.

'Hey, I know I went too far before. Won't happen again. We can go back to just kissin' if ya like? We fuckin' rock at that, don't we, baby brother?'

He nodded then, giving such a small smile that I almost missed it. 'Don't freak out on me now, but let me get out of these jeans, OK? They aren't comfortable enough for kissin'.'

He just frowned at that. 'So long as I can keep mine on.'

'You do whatever the hell ya want, baby brother.' He smirked at this.

Soon we were back in the same position, almost like nothing had happened. He relaxed back into the kiss soon enough and I got bolder as we went along, careful not to push him too fast. Thinking that maybe by introducing him slowly to stuff, I could turn him on more and make him more willing and less skittish? Was worth a try.

He pulled back soon enough looking annoyed: 'Why don't ya take care of that monster between ya legs, huh? Told ya, go somewhere and do somethin' about it. I can't concentrate when we're kissin' when I have ya hard dick pressed up against me.'

'It's just pleased to see ya, little brother.' I talked dirty to him despite my intentions – jus' couldn't help myself when it came to him. 'Let it be – don't worry, it won't bite.' I tried to reassure him.

'For fuck's sake Merle, ya ain't hearin' me. I said I'm not comfortable with your dick diggin' into me.'

'Let's lie down then, and I'll cover it with one leg.'

'I can't believe I'm lettin' ya ta—'

I kissed his intended words away, after a while he seemed to have forgotten all about it. But I sure hadn't.

He got bolder as well, I guess it was the palpable tension, feelings and need in that room. It didn't take a genius to notice how confused he was. One moment he acted like he wanted to devour me alive, the next, he was shy and tentative, almost unwilling to continue. But I always made sure to stroke his back soothingly when I noticed he was on the verge of getting up off me and stopping.

Somehow I managed to seduce him enough so that he was almost on top of me. His hands on either side of my face, one knee between my legs. As he continued kissing me with that sinfully skilled tongue of his. I moaned into his mouth as his knee bumped against my dick, almost splitting with want at this point. I placed my hands on the small of his back, and he froze.

'Why'd ya stop, little brother? I ain't doin' no hurtin'. Not like Dad.' Exactly the wrong thing to say because he shuddered next and recoiled slightly while I kicked myself for bringing up what the bastard had done to him. Nothing like the mere mention of Dad to spoil the mood.

'No, but this is wrong.'

'Says who?'

'Oh, come on, Merle. You're almost gettin' off against my leg while we're kissin''

He stopped and made to get off me but I grabbed his arm before he could escape. And before I knew what I was doing,I had flipped us around so he was the one on his back. He looked up at me, stunned by surprise before he started to struggle uselessly.'Merle...let me go. Ya don't want to do this.' He whined pathetically.

I shook him as a little warning to stop fighting me. 'Now, now, little brother. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Jus' let's have some fun together, OK?' I smoothed back a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead. Lent down to kiss him. But he turned his head away! His rejection enraged me.

'Right, ya little cocktease. I waited long enough, for ya to open ya pretty little legs, Darlena, but I ain't waitin' no more!' I hissed in his face and kissed him roughly, forcing my tongue into his mouth while he struggled some more. But his resistance only added to my lust and my need – I suddenly understood how our father felt and my dick suddenly felt too big for the crotch of my trousers. I realised dimly that I was grinding it into him while he squirmed and I knew I would never forget that expression on his face. Fear, pure primal fear of what was to come.

Fear of me? But at that moment, I didn't care. 'Fuckin' little pussy.' I hissed under my breath and his eyes widened. He'd heard me! Guiltily, I changed tack by making sure to soften my voice before speaking again as he flinched at my words. Didn't want to scare him after all. Just wanted him to know what he was missing. 'You just stay put, baby brother. It's OK, Merle ain't gonna hurt ya, just stay still for ya big brother.'

'No! No!' He screamed. His face red as he tried to get away from me and I slapped him. Hard!

He put his hand to his cheek in shock and disbelief!

'Now, ya stop that right now! Ya can't get away and I tried bein' nice, sweet-talkin' ya jus' like ya were a girl.'

'You're just drunk and high, ya don't mean nothin' ya say or do.' His fear and rage was clear on his face – his cheek was already reddening from my blow. So I slapped the other one to subdue him properly. 'Ya stay right there, ya fuckin' move, I'm gonna really hurt ya.'

'Fuck ya, ya asshole! Ya jus' like him!' He snarled back. Now he was rubbing his other cheek but he didn't move from where he was. Because I'd got off him but only to remove my shirt and unzip my pants. His breath became ragged at that, the panic obvious on his face.

'I mean everything when it comes to you.' I leered down at him and licked my lips. Touched my hard self so that he could see. He said nothing but turned his head away in disgust.

What was it about him that made me want to treat him this way? Like Dad must have done. To hurt and ravish him? And on some twisted and sick level, I could understand our father. Guilt and self-loathing, fear that he would never forgive me if I went through with it were all whispering in my mind, telling me to stop.

I almost did but then I pushed my conscience aside.

In no time at all, I had kicked off my pants and removed everything on him except his shirt, turned back to him and pinned him to the bed as he trembled and flinched away.

'Merle! Don't do this!Please!'

I hesitated then and a ray of hope lit his eyes. Because what if he hated me forever? Was one moment of ecstasy worth losing my brother's love?

But the alcohol and the drugs I'd consumed lowered my inhibitions, made the consequences of what I was about to do seem irrelevant in the moment.

'Ya just be quiet now. I can't hold off any longer. Been waitin' long enough for this. Ya should be glad that I waited as long as I did.'

'You sick fuck! What are ya talkin' about? We're brothers, asshole!'

I tightened my grip brutally on him - he'd have bruises on his arms tomorrow and he looked really terrified he had his doubts about me being capable of going through with it before, he sure didn't have any now. He began to struggle again, despite me punishing him for it before as I got even more excited. He probably didn't know it but feeling him move under me made me even more determined, the exact opposite effect that I knew he wanted to have. So, I reached under his bed where I'd hidden my bottle of lube for myself/when i had a girl over. I don't recall why I'd put it under his bed.

I tried to block out his panicked attempts and his whimpers begging me to let him go, to stop. Because I knew in time he would enjoy it, they always did, when I made them writhe and moan under me and they weren't faking either. I could always tell the fakers. Girls sure seemed to appreciate me in the sack so why wouldn't he? I was a guy, I knew what most guys liked just by that fact alone. And above all, I was experienced. He'd moaned and shuddered despite himself when Dad forced us to touch each other and I knew I was good. Just because he was another boy didn't matter. Anyway, I knew him, he was my baby brother, had always been in his life. Well more or less. Point was, I knew him.

I coated my fingers that soon found their way inside of him. If he was tense before, it was nothing compared to now. I groaned at the sensation of him squeezing around my fingers, imagining how tight he would feel around my dick. Working on him in silence, I got him ready for me. Sure, all I wanted to do was just get in there, but the last thing I wanted to do now was cause him more pain than necessary. He shut his eyes tightly, I even gave him some time to breathe before I replaced those fingers with my dick. Thinking myself generous in my drug-addled state.

He opened his eyes at that. 'Merle, ya do this and we—'

'Calm down, baby brother, I won't hurt ya. I'll be gentle. Ya might like this.' I licked his cheek while he cowered back and made a sound of utter disgust. No doubt, he had experienced this before but right then, I didn't care.

He was so unbelievably tight. For a second I doubted I even could fit inside of him, I let my nails brush over the baby smooth skin on the inside of his upper thighs, transfixed. Trying to make him more willing, he'd always been crazy about that. Nails against skin, could pretty damn near fall asleep when ya did that to him. But he sure wasn't sleeping now.

'Shh, come now. Relax, things will hurt much less for ya if ya do and it will be over faster.'

Hardly believing it as I felt him try to follow my advice as I slid inside slowly. He made noises like a kicked puppy at that, and his cries of pain were almost enough for me to stop what I was doing. And I didn't like the look he had on his face, he looked like he was defeated, almost apathetic.

But none of it was quite enough - my demanding dick was driving me on into him.

He answered by tensing up again, making me cry out, gripping those hips tight. 'You'll be all right, baby brother. Don't ya worry about one little thing.''

He uttered a half-choked cry of dismay and then I was as deep inside him as I could possibly get. And still relentlessly pushing into him, despite his cries of pain. Because I still couldn't get close enough to him to be one with him. Wanting to consume him so that there was nothing left.

Somewhere along the way, he gave up pleading with me to stop and started to sob uncontrollably instead. But I didn't – actually I found myself fucking him harder even though his sobs mixed in with my moans of pleasure was a kind of off-putting melody. I was just too damn horny to stop – had Dad felt like this with him? I had nearly pulled out a few times before when he whispered for me to stop and when he grabbed me with his hands at first - begging me silently to treat him with more gentleness. .

But I couldn't help myself from pounding away at him as hard as I could. Eventually, almost reluctantly, I came inside of him, because i didn't ever want it to stop, the best orgasm of my life. Muffling my own cries against his pillow, I the noise against the pillow at the same time as I shuddered. I could feel his body shaking with heart-breaking sobs of defeat as I buried my face in his sweaty hair. Even as he cringed back and I knew that he was never, ever going to let me near him again, let alone touch him after this. I'd always have to force him and I vowed I would never do it him ever again. Gone forever was my chance to seduce him being willing. So, I felt a twinge of sadness mixed with regret as I started to recover and my breathing returned to normal. Knowing it was the last time, I lingered inside him for a while and savoured the moment, even though I knew it wasn't fair to him. But it just felt too good to pull out just then.

When I was done, he immediately turned over onto his back but ignored me like I wasn't there. I felt empty, not just between my legs, but inside. What had I done? 'Fuck…' I hissed under my breath as I watched my brother just staring at the ceiling, breathing hard, sobs still convulsing his body but thankfully slowly shuddering to a stop. But the tears were still leaking, trickling backwards now from under his lids to mingle with his dark hair sprayed out on the pillow. Refusing to meet my eyes with shame and grabbing at the sheets like it wasn't over yet for him.

Or never would be,

What the fuck had I just done?

I just stood there, at a loss at what to do. There was nothing I could say. How the hell do you say sorry for rape? Or worst of all, for violating your teenage brother even though he sobbed and pleaded with you to stop? So, I stretched out a hand tentatively to comfort him but of course, he cringed away.

'Don't ya fuckin' dare.' He snarled viciously at me and I took some hope that he still sounded like the old tough Daryl. But he still refused to look at me and that was the worst thing. Like he'd died or I'd died. This time at least, I stopped when he told me to.

He got up from the bed on shaky legs. Deliberately bumping his shoulder into mine as he walked past me and shoved the heavy wardrobe out of the way all on his own in his eagerness to get away from me. Adrenaline. He probably didn't even worry about dad hovering outside either, but I wasn't gonna tell him nothin'.Had the bastard been outside hearing our performance that was for real this time?

Because I'd finally done what he told me to.

I'd raped my little brother.

He got up determinedly to leave and I didn't want to be in his way. Probably headed for the shower, no doubt feeling filthy dirty after what I just did to him, just like after Mike and desperate to get clean.

So, I sat down on my bed, I noticed with a horror clenching my gut that I hadn't been all that gentle with him like I'd promised. The blood on the sheets was a tell-tale sign of that and i recalled how rough I'd been with him, thrusting into him as hard as I could in fact. I'd simply lost control of finally being so intimate with him. Distractedly, I heard the shower running as I told myself that it hadn't been because I enjoyed deliberately hurting him. Because I wasn't like our perverted father, was I? Not sure anymore what exactly was the difference between me and Dad, I sighed as I covered my face in my hands. But then I heard the shower turn off, he'd only been in there for about 2 minutes and I was feeling a terrible sense of foreboding. So, I ran to the bathroom - praying that he wasn't doing something stupid after I hurt him. He wouldn't be, would he? He was a Dixon, after all. Had survived Dad so far.

I tentatively knocked on the bathroom door. 'Daryl? You OK?'

Silence. Then I heard sniffles.

'Daryl, I'm sorry, OK? Things...things jus' got out of control. Ya don't have to worry 'cos it ain't ever gonna happen again. I'll cut it off before I let it.'

What I said obviously roused some strong emotions in him and I heard his low whimpers mixed with muffled still boyish sobs that he was doing his best to hide.

'Baby bro?' I tried again softly.

'Fuck you! I ain't ya baby bro no more!' He suddenly screamed in rage at me. 'Leave me alone, d'ya hear?'

'OK, Daryl. From now on, I'm gonna do exactly what ya tell me. I'm gonna leave ya now.'

No answer, not that I expected one but at least the water had started running again. Once upon a time, he would have come running and clung to me when things got too much for him, especially with Dad but that was something else that was never going to happen now.

With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, I went back to the room and sat on the bed and wrang my hands anxiously until I heard him coming out of the bathroom. Thoughts of how to make all of this up to him circling my head while my mind whispered, how could you do that to him, especially after what Dad did? And the others?

You don't do that to someone you love.

I looked up hopefully as he came with a small towel wrapped around his waist and God help me, I wanted opened my mouth to speak. God forgive me, I still wanted him.

I opened my mouth to speak...

And closed it again in a hurry when I saw what he was holding in his right hand. He'd half hidden it behind his back and now he brought it forward. He must have gone and got it from the kitchen drawer but damn me if I had heard him go down the stairs, lost in my guilt and thoughts of self-blame. Anyway, when did he have time?

'Daryl - put that knife down.' I was panicking now. 'I told ya I was sorry.' He was holding it in his right hand even as his eyelashes glistened with tears as he stared at me. But he didn't look scared. I couldn't completely identify the emotion right then that was wracking my baby brother's body.

I could already see the tell-tale bruises forming on his thighs and his wrists where I had grabbed him and held him down. Couldn't help myself recoiling when I saw those.

He acted like I hadn't spoken. 'I can't deal with this – not with both ya and Dad doin' it to me. Fuck ya both! What gives you the fuckin' right?!'. He screamed at me and waved the knife around.

Then I saw the mingled rage and betrayal in his tortured, tear-filled eyes that I missed before. Because he hadn't expected anything else from Dad, but from me... 'Ya finished me, Merle. Ya really did.' His voice was wistful now, full of sadness.

I tried to run at him then, to tear away the knife but he pressed it against his throat in warning.

'Stay the fuck away from me.' He hissed. 'Come any closer, and I'll fuckin' do it.' He threatened.

My throat tightened at the sight. Scary thing was that I knew then that he meant it. Every word.

'Daryl...baby brother...please...don't. Ya right, hate me all ya want jus't don't...I know what I did to ya was wrong...' I begged. 'I'll never do it again...I'll quit the drugs, I'll even stop drinkin'!'.

He was finally broken, strong as he was and it was me who had done it.

'Too fuckin' late, brother.' He snarled the last word, like it had no meaning to him anymore.

I couldn't really blame him. It hurt me more than words could describe. For what? I had lost my baby brother's love for a single moment of loss of self-control and weakness.

'What ya did to me...' He didn't finish the sentence as the tears suddenly spilled over onto his cheeks as he remembered and limbs started to tremble but the worst thing was he didn't make a sound. Not sobbing like when I forced myself on him or when he was in the shower - nothing. He didn't even seem to be breathing. His silence with only bitter accusation shining out of his eyes somehow made it all worse.

'We can fix one thing tonight, one less thing for us to worry about. We can kill him right now, little brother. Ya just say the word.'

He just sneered at me in disbelief. Seeing the contemptuous hatred where before there had only been love and trust cut me to the core. But I couldn't blame him – not after what I had just gone and done.

'Ya gonna have to live with this forever. I hope my 'hot little ass' was worth it.' He told me coldly.

Then I watched how he slit his throat widely from side to side, almost in slow-motion. Absurdly grinning at me as I dashed to his side, shaking him. Trying to stem the blood pulsing from – what both he and I knew- we were hunters after all, a slashed artery with my own desperate shaky hands. The blood continued to squirt through my splayed fingers and I cursed myself. I knew why he was smiling - because he was finally free – from Dad, and sadly - from me. I started to sob, already feeling him getting weaker by the second. Otherwise he would have fought me like the devil.

There was no use in trying to stop the flow anymore. I went cold all over. I hugged him to my chest, his blood smeared all over me as I sat there crying like a child as I held him as close as I could. 'Come back, don't leave me. I'm sorry, just come back to me!' I sensed his soul escaping, knowing it was too late, I'd killed my own little brother – I'd been the one to finally push him over the edge.

I rocked him back and forth in my arms, desperately trying to bring him back to life. Dimly, I heard someone say 'I'm sorry...I'm sorry...beautiful inside and out...I'm sorry...' Was that me?