There was one thing that could be said 'bout Merle Dixon and that was he would do anything for his little brother. Go to the ends of the Earth to protect him and he has. From the day he walked into his home from Juvie lock-up when he was protectin' Daryl. 10 years apart and that's all that separated them. He took every beating from Will Dixon that was meant for Daryl, caring for him.

He was selling dope and moonshine from his Daddy's stash to make sure Daryl had diapers and formula til he was old enough not to need 'em no more. Skipping school to make sure his mama was still drinking her life away and Daryl was still breathing and his worthless ole daddy weren't around.

He got caught one day and only one person he ever trusted 'round baby Daryl, the crazy old bat who lived down the way and through the forest. She took care of Daryl when he was locked up in exchange for meat the two boys hunted til she passed on when Daryl was 4 or 5. He couldn't remember anymore. By that time Daryl were old enough to care for himself and knew to stay outta trouble.

The old bat left the boys her land and some money that got them good and cared for. Those boys never touched the money but kept the land, it's where they were leaving now to 'Lanta.

Merle Dixon only ever did right by his baby brother. For everyone else and himself, nothing more than shit. He got drunk when he could and high if he could. The only time he could remember bein' truly clean and sober for a long period of time was when they forced his ass in the Army the minute he turned 18. The 6 years he spent there taught him more than needed. He was a good ole boy scout, til someone started talking shit 'bout his brother. Given Honorable Discharge from his position as one of the youngest at 24 to make Staff Sergeant on his way to Sergeant First Class, he left the Army and fell in with his old crowd before that got real old real quick.

Going home was hard, trying to explain that he was home for good ate at his pride seeing as he failed in the Army like he did everything else. It's what Dixons did. He chose never to tell Daryl why he was released.

When he came home it was to a different boy than the one he left. The Daryl from before had been sweet and prideful, this one now he looked down on, was surly and a downright bastard, covered in cuts and bruises. It wouldn't be til years later that Merle would see the same marks on Daryl's back that covered his.

Will Dixon stood pissed at how pathetic is youngest was. "Git up and fight me you sissy faggot." His fists landed down hard on an 11 year old Daryl's already bloody head. More cuts were showing up in his hair as they caught on the rings covering Will Dixon's hands.

The youngest boy refused to stand as he lie curled in a fetal position, hoping the pain would end soon. A feral smirk on his lips, Will Dixon gave up using his fists.

Downing the last of his shit moonshine, vision going blurry for a moment he staggered on his feet towards the back the trailer to his closet, pulling out a weighty cord that had long since been cut into smaller strips at the bottom so that the there were thinner, shaper pieces of wire.

Will Dixon remembered a time not long ago when he used this on his first son. It taught that boy a lesson and this one will do the trick as well.

Staggering back to the front of the house he laughed in derision as he saw the other boy still sobbing and curled in on himself.