TTWH 4

Last chapter was a bit heavy-going, very dark even though it was just Merle's thoughts and imagination but that's bad enough! Whatever his subconscious does, it's not the same as doing it for real and Merle does clearly love and care for Daryl who needs him now more than ever.

Here's a bit more background, anyway with a different character and Daryl. I hope that it's eventually a bit lighter than the last chapter because Merle's head is a very dark and scary place to walk around in.

Enjoy!

i.
Glenn

The dream about the young boy – about 11 or 12 with brown hair and piercing blue eyes woke him up. The boy was crying, sitting on the step of the porch of the rickety wooden house near the woods. Dead squirrels and other small animalswere hung up from its overhanging roof, swinging from side to side in the had his head bowed in his lap and his shoulders were shaking silently with sobs. That didn't matter – Glenn had seen his black eyes and the long bruise in the shape of a large handprint along his jaw. His shirt was ripped too at the front. One or two buttons hanging off by their threads. Glenn knew that his skin under the shirt was riddled with burn marks from cigarettes and even from the hot stove where The Man had forced him to lean against its hot surface after he made him strip down to his waist.
Somehow Glenn knew he was the boy but the boy was also someone else too. Someone familiar – he and him at the same time. That's why he felt they boy's hurt - his body was also throbbing with pain from various places.
Both the boy/Glenn looked up, startled when The Man bellowed from inside the house, through the open door. 'Come here, boy! I ain't finished with ya yet!' Glenn felt his head turn reluctantly back in that direction. His hands to care to wipe away any trace of tears – although of course his eyes were red. More cause for punishment. 'Ya cryin', boy? Git over 'ere, ya fuckin' little pussy!'. Was about to get up slowly – delaying the moment when he would be punished again. But the voice yelled again, 'I ain't tellin' ya again, boy! Ya drag it out and it's only gonna be worse!' This time, dangerous impatience was added to the fury in its tone causing the boy/Glenn to tremble even more fiercely now, as he got up shakily to his feet.
Glenn woke up, sniffling with wet eyes and grabbing for the pillows, the pain suddenly gone while Maggie stirred beside him but didn't wake up. However, she did instinctively tighten her hold around him where they lay snuggled together. He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Maybe he could just ignore the dream but the boy's sobbing kept nagging at the back of his head, slowly becoming more and more unbearable like a drill boring a hole in his skull. It never stopped.
Who was he kidding? He knew who it was and he also knew that wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight until he comforted the boy and made him stop crying. He thought dazedly, still less than half awake.

Make the boy stop sobbing in his head. If he could. But how? And he couldn't leave Maggie – what if she woke up and he wasn't there? She wouldn't panic at first – would probably only think he'd gone to use the bathroom behind the small door opposite but when he didn't come back...when she couldn't hear him...She'd think Walkers had got into the tower or that something had happened to him...

He tried to cover his ears with the pillow to block out the sound coming from inside his own head. At least he thought that's where it was coming from but the boy wouldn't stop his weeping.
'Daryl...Shut up!' He hissed but the boy only cried louder behind his eyes.
Was he going crazy? Why couldn't Maggie hear it? Why didn't she wake up? The increasingly panicky weepy sounds only got louder and louder until they seemed to reverberate off the walls. But she only murmured contently in her sleep – apparently she wasn't having nightmares about boys with black-eyes and torn shirts crying.

Right, that's it! He got up as quickly but quietly as he could, gently disengaging his wife's arm from around him and sighed with relief when she didn't wake up. Laid her arm back gently on the bed, gave her the pillow to cuddle instead of him. She accepted it easily and pulled it closer to her with a sigh of contentment. 'Be back soon.' He whispered, looking at her lying there. Looking so beautiful with her face bathed in moonlight. Like a fairy-queen...and he was tempted to kiss her full lips once more before he left.
He heard the Dixons' laughter in his head then. Daryl's brother had always laughed at him for his slushy romanticism, even Daryl hadn't been beneath cracking a joke at the two love-birds. Daryl's sarcastic laughter was a welcome change from the endless weeping but it didn't last of course as the boy-Daryl started up that relentless crying again. Like a hammer lightly tapping his skull from the inside but there was no pain. This time even more urgently than before, prompting Glenn to whisper, 'I'm coming, Daryl! I'm coming! Hold on!' He hurriedly scribbled a note and left it for Maggie if she woke up and found the bed empty. He wrote a bland lie – of course – how could he tell her the truth? She'd think he was crazy.
But right now his friend needed him more than her after everything he'd been through. She'd understand if she could believe it – he knew she would. She cared about Daryl too even if she'd never forgiven his brother.
He grabbed his coat and ran down the stairs. Made his way over to the cell where he knew they were keeping Daryl. The first night he'd been back from Woodbury after Herschel had cleaned him up and checked him over. Given him something mild to calm him down and help him sleep. He didn't need much in his exhaustion. Was there anyone with him? Because he sensed that the last thing that Daryl wanted was to be alone but the others didn't understand! That even though he pushed them all away, he was terrified of having to face the memories and the tormenting voices in head by himself.

ii.
Glenn

'How long's he been like this?' He turned on them – Rick, Herschel and Carol, standing outside Daryl's cell. The door was closed but they all could hear his sounds of distress that he was making in his sleep. Moaning and sobbing. They could hear him thrashing around on his bed and Glenn wondered that he didn't fall out onto the floor. Making the same noise Glenn had heard in his head in the tower and he wondered how that was possible. But he had just known and therefore, wasn't surprised.
But the others were as they stared at him.
'An hour – an hour and a half.'
'What! And you just let him?' The Asian boy's voice rose in anger and disbelief at how they were neglecting his friend.
Glenn rounded on Herschel next. 'Why don't ya give him something stronger to put him out?'
The old man looked at him apologetically. 'We know they drugged him, don't know what they gave him though or how much and he couldn't tell us...I only gave him the mildest sedative in the lowest dose...to lower the risk. Drug interactions can be dangerous. I can't risk a big dose for at least another 48 hours at least.'
Rick turned to him questioningly. 'Why ya here?'
'He woke me up.'
The leader furrowed his brows in confusion...and the other two looked baffled and Glenn brushed it off because he didn't really want to have to explain something that didn't make sense to him, even. And Daryl's moans of 'No, no, no, get the fuck off me!'
He changed the subject instead. 'Ya jus' standin' out here? Why don't ya go in there?'
'You know what he's like...he won't appreciate anyone in there with 'im, touchin' 'im after what they did.' Rick justified while Glenn looked at Carol like he couldn't believe it of her. 'Why didn't you go in – you're a woman, not a man- no threat and he trusts you.' He attacked her accusingly.
Tears came into her eyes...'Glenn...later on, he didn't know any of us. He jus' saw the men who...who...' She broke down herself, rubbing her temples and Rick put his arm comfortingly around her. She leaned into his touch and sniffed, trying to get her emotions back under control.
He realised then that they were suffering too and punishing themselves by making themselves stand outside his room and listen to his cries. To assauge their guilt. Worse - now, Daryl was calling for Merle but nobody knew where his brother was. Glenn secretly wondered if the older Dixon would be any help – he didn't think the brash, crude and insensitive redneck could help Daryl get over it. Probably he wouldn't want to tell his older brother and who could blame him? Glenn didn't like Merle not least because of what he'd done to him and Maggie. He prayed that he'd never come back – not only for their sake but for Daryl's sake. He would only end up damaging him even more – hell - would probably mock him for being a fag and wanting it in his insensitive attempts to bully him better. Glenn shivered at the thought . But Daryl obviously wanted his brother – that's why he was calling for him so insistently now.
'I can't stand this. Maybe you all can, listening to him but I can't. Glenn glared round at them, uncharacteristically aggressive in defence of his fallen friend. 'I'm going in there.'
'I don't think that's a good idea, son. Let's jus' let him tire himself out...' Herschel warned. 'He'll stop eventually...'
Rick put a restraining hand against his chest to try and stop him going into the cell. 'He's right, Glenn. Ya'll scare 'im and he'll lash out. He's fragile psychologically but physically – ya know he could kill ya easily if he felt threatened. He's dangerous even after being half-starved and dehydrated. That's why...'
'Dangerous?' Glenn scoffed, adding, 'Get off me.' Not letting him finish his sentence as he brushed past him rudely.
'Glenn... I gotta tell ya somethin'...warn ya...' Herschel called after him but Glenn ignored him as he tore open the door. Wished he'd listened to the animal doctor at the sight that greeted his eyes.
They let him go but followed him in to the room.
'What did you do to him!' His voice rose in a fury they'd never seen before in the mild-mannered teen as he glared round at them and Rick was afraid that he wake up the muttering Dixon who had tears leaking down his cheeks from the , that wasn't quite true – Rick had seen him react like that to Merle in defence of Maggie when they'd freed the Dixons from Woodbury – from the forced death-fight.
It seemed there was a lot more to the guy than most people gave him credit for.

iii.

Glenn rushed to Daryl's bedside to undo the velcro hand and foot restraints which had been presumably reserved for violent or mentally disturbed prisoners. No-one tried to stop him, just looked at him shamefacedly. The hunter didn't wake up but continued to moan and mutter and weep.
'Did you know about this?' He lashed out, facing Carol.
She sighed. 'Herschel didn't want to do it but it was for his own good...He was lashing out, thrashing around, wouldn't stay still...even after Herschel gave him the mild sedative. We couldn't put an IV into him because of it...He kept trying to get out of bed...'
'Don't want to hear it.' Glenn hissed. 'Get out! All of you just get out!'
'I don't think ya should be doin' that, son.' Herschel protested weakly as Glen undid the last foot strap.
'See!' He turned around. He's not trying to get out, he's not being violent. Just get out, all of you!'
Herschel tried one last time. 'But ...ya a man, son. And when he wakes up, he's gonna feel threatened...he'll associate you with the men at Woodbury...'
'I know what I'm doing. Get out!'
They left reluctantly. 'But we'll be jus' outside the door incase he...gets upset.' Rick reassured.
'Don't bother.' Glenn replied coldly. 'He won't.'
They closed the door behind them and Glenn was surprised how easy it was to convince them. Or maybe they were just waiting for someone to come who had the guts to deal with Daryl. Who cared enough about him.
That was it, probably.
Cowards. He thought. No matter Daryl had been distressed, tied up like that. He'd been chained up when they found him. He was still crying and moaning, varying his short repertoire, ''No, no, no, get the fuck off me!' He'd command or worse - more pitifully, 'Please, don't make me. I won't fuckin' do it!' or 'Don't touch me!' mixed with cries for his brother. 'Merle, Merle, please!'. Over and over again. It was a wonder that his voice wasn't hoarse. All the time, tears were sliding down his cheeks from his eye-lids and he was trembling, or more like shaking. Now that his limbs were free, he curled up into a ball on his side, kicking off the scratchy prison blankets. Glenn was pleased to see that he'd had a shower and a change of clothes – pyjamas no doubt that one of the others lent him – Dixons don't do nightwear. But he still didn't wake up or stop his moans or his words or his weeping. Still shaking. Sweating too – Glenn could see the shiny sheen on his face.

Glenn remembered when they found him. In the stinking cell, handcuffed loosely to a chain fixed to the wall. Just giving him enough range but not enough. Naked, covered in blood, cuts and bruises, filth and ...other substances. Too broken down to even try to cover himself up.
Stinking of sex, piss, faeces, filth and...other substances. He was trembling with cold and fear.

'What the fuck...?' Rick had muttered. All of them instinctively covered up their nose and mouth with their clothes to ward off the stench.
'What did they do to him?' Maggie and Andrea, despite her own battered and weak condition, burst into tears when they saw him but looked away at the next to spare his dignity. Rick had clearly been shaken. He was bruised and battered – clearly unable to recognise them, staring at him blankly. No doubt thinking that they were the Governor's men come to haul him before him again.
They saw him clench his fists and snarl ready to fight. He was still not beaten down, not going easily.
'Looks like they did everythin'.' Rick answered shakily, looking everywhere but down at Daryl. 'Come on, let's get him.'
Luckily, the ex-cop had some experience of dealing with this kind of thing – victims of assault and other trauma like traffic accidents. 'Get him a blanket!' He ordered to them over his shoulder.
'Where's the key?'

Maggie handed it to him – the big bunch they'd got from one of the guards they'd taken out when they'd rescued Andrea. They were all hoping that one of them would fit. He approached his former second-in-command warily. Daryl lunged forward as far as his chains would allow, baring his teeth.
He was getting ready to bite, looking less like a feral wolf than a man. Not caring about or unaware of his nakedness in front of the women.
Glenn moved forward too but Rick waved him back. 'Let me. Don't want to overwhelm him with too many people at once.
'Daryl.' Rick addressed him softly, not daring to get within his range until he'd made him recognise them and realise that they were going to rescue him. He was the professional – he had to get through to Daryl.
Daryl just snarled in reply, no words.
'Oh Jesus, Jesus!' Rick ignored Andrea's wailing in the background. 'Can he still talk?'
'Daryl.' The ex-cop repeated softly. 'It's me Rick and here is Glenn. You remember them, don't ya?' He deliberately didn't mention the women, Michonne unlike the others hadn't turned away. Was staring intently at the Dixon, unabashed at his nakedness and swaying to and fro on her feet. Backing up the leader because even chained up, he was a considerable threat. He could still use his teeth and looked like he was more than ready to sink them into Rick. He used them on the guards when they'd first begun to torture him.
Something glimmered in Daryl's eyes but then it sank beneath the surface of his murky blue eyes, out of sight.
'Come on, Daryl. You remember us.'
'Rick?' Something had snapped inside him then and Daryl looked up at him. Eyes full of human intelligence.
'Daryl...we ain't got time. Ya gotta come with us...now.'
Finally sure that it was safe to, Rick got down to Daryl's level, to appear less threatening and took his face into his hands. Of course, Daryl jerked away despite Rick crooning to him, 'It's OK. It's me, Rick. We're gonna get you outta here.' The prisoner seemed to have visibly shrunk and always having been lean but muscular, Rick could swear he could count every rib now. His face was sunken and his terror-filled eyes, too big for his thin face . His goose-pimpled skin was covered in more shallow cuts as if someone had been torturing him with a knife to deliberately complement the old ones on his back. Along with the almost invisible childhood knife scars on his chest that he never wanted anyone to see.
Daryl had merely started shaking as he looked down at the filthy concrete floor, not meeting anyone's eyes in shame. And Rick found he couldn't blame him as he looked down on him in overwhelming disgust that he was unable to suppress that he tried not to show on his face. But he eventually went limp, allowing Rick to fumble with the keys until he found the right one.
'We haven't got time for this.' Glenn looked back at the interrogation door anxiously. All around them they could hear sounds of chaos, screaming, weapon fire.
Maggie had handed him the blanket and they'd looked away as he discreetly wrapped it around him. It easily fully concealed his wasted frame. He seemed to recognise them now but strangely, seemed reluctant to leave.
'Can't leave...can never leave 'im. He says he'll kill everybody in the prison if I try to leave...if I fight back.' He looked up at him then, tentative hope in his eyes while he shook with terror and his chest heaved rapidly as he breathed shallow breaths in and out. His eyes darting around, here and there in panic as if expecting his tormentors to come out of the very walls, the dim corners.
Rick was trying to be patient but it was difficult even though he really didn't want to traumatise him further.
'Please...please don't make me..people'll get hurt...he's got Merle and he's gonna kill 'im...Think about Carl and Judith, Rick. Carol...Beth...Herschell... ' The Dixon's voice was wavering as he pleaded with Rick and his eyes filled with terror but focused on something else. Somewhere else. He broke down then and started to sob for his brother, sounding so pitifully young.
'Daryl...The Governor's dead and he never had Merle. Don't ya think he would have enjoyed using you more against each other in his sick games if he had?' Michonne piped up. Daryl seemed to believe her calm tone and dried his tears. 'He was just messing with your head.' She added and he nodded. His eyes widened as he realised that it was obvious and under normal circumstances he would have come to the same conclusion. It was obvious. If he hadn't been so worn down and exhausted, physically as well as psychologically. He didn't even care at that moment that he'd broken down and cried for Merle in front of them when everybody knows that Dixons don't cry. He felt shame and self-disgust at how they'd found him – why couldn't it have just been Rick or better- his brother?
'We killed 'im. Ya don't have to be afraid of 'im no more.' Maggie turned back to him now that he was kind of decent.
The Dixon bristled at that and snarled back, sounding much more like himself, 'Ain't scared of that sick fuck or his men. Should'a been me to put the sick bastard down.' Glenn and Maggie exchanged looks at the deliberate contradiction to his earlier words. At the sharp turnaround. 'Who was it?'
'Good. Then let's go.' Rick turned without answering his question, leading the way. 'Can ya walk?'
Daryl snarled 'yes' and nodded but it turned out that he had to reluctantly accept help from the young couple either side of him because Rick needed to scout the way ahead and make sure it was clear. Michonne had to support Andrea who was too weak to walk unaided.
'Fuck.' The Dixon growled in frustration at the weakness in his body after days of virtual starvation and minimal drinking-water.
Luckily, the way was clear back to their truck. It seemed like the citizens of Woodbury were no longer concerned with them now that their Beloved Leader was dead. His henchmen who had survived were probably busy elsewhere. Fighting for their lives against the enraged citizens who didn't agree with their former Master's methods.
All around they heard gunfire and screams. Woodbury was burning – who had set the fires – they didn't know.

Woodbury was finished.
It was over. But not for everyone.

iii
Glenn

Glenn looked down at him, not sure what to do. Daryl hadn't liked being touched before and now he'd also apparently had physical contact and sexual acts forced upon him as well.
What do I do if he wakes up and attacks me because he doesn't recognise me? He nearly chickened out then and left the room.
He do this – he'd do this for his friend when none of Daryl's so-called family would even risk their necks. Just because they didn't have the courage to deal with him.

Mainly he was too painful to look at and reminded them of how easily they'd let him go. Let his brother take him without a fight.

'Daryl?' Glenn whispered, hoping to wake him but he realised that he was too drugged up for to ask him for permission but he never opened his eyes but they were streaming tears down his face. The front of his striped pyjama top was soaking wet from them and a mixture of sweat. He'd been weeping for hours, it looked like.
'I'm going to get in the bed with you, that OK?' Glenn felt he should ask but Daryl kept right on mumbling, didn't react.
'It's not like that, you know I don't like you like that, don't you? ' He joked. 'I'm a married man now. Shame you missed the wedding. I bet Merle would have really enjoyed the free booze and food.'
Glenn felt foolish as he chuckled at his own lame jokes as he drew back the covers and drew them back over them but Daryl had fallen silent, after sighing deeply before he resumed whimpering and moaning again to himself.
'Was wondering how the two of us were going to fit in this tiny cot – but you've lost weight and I'm small so I can just about squeeze in, I guess.' Daryl sighed again and fell silent. Glenn was right- just having someone there he trusted talking to him in his sleep appeared to soothe him. The others had been wrong or maybe Glenn was the right person who Daryl could trust. He was small and skinny, probably the least threatening of all the men. As if to confirm his thoughts, he heard the footsteps of those holding vigil outside the door die away.
'See – they didn't need to tie you up. You're OK.' Glenn was gratified to hear the younger Dixon's quiet snores as he finally fell into a restful sleep.
He turned his back to him and tried to fall asleep until he was woken up what felt like moments later. Daryl was thrashing around, his eyes closed. 'Don't! Don't! Get off me.' He pleaded.
Glenn grabbed his arms, tried to hold him still in his grip but the Dixon proved too strong for him and was soon free again.
'Sh...sh...'
'No!' Daryl screamed. 'Daddy – don't do that - it hurts!'
Daddy? Daryl was dreaming about his Daddy? Not the Governor? The people closest to him knew about his abusive childhood although he never spoke about it.
Daryl continued to scream and moan, tears streaming down his face. Now he was crying for his brother again, 'Merle! Merle!'. Getting louder.
'DARYL!' Glenn was afraid that the others would rush in if he kept it up for much longer and he'd have to admit they were right and he really hated to do that. What he hated even more, however, was the thought of them restraining Daryl again. He couldn't believe they had done that.
'IT'S ME, GLENN!' He whispered as loudly as he could into his ear without waking the others if Daryl hadn't already done that.
Daryl opened his eyes then but looked through him and Glenn gasped in surprise. But the hunter was looking through him like he was seeing a ghost when Glenn thought he'd recognised him at first.
'Merle?' He asked so tentatively hopefully. 'That you, Merle?' Sounding like the young boy he must have been once. The bruised and battered and burned young boy in Glenn's dream who wasn't Glenn but somehow was and also Daryl at the same time. He realised that somehow, he'd seen a mere glimpse of the hunter's childhood – that it was a memory rather than a mere dream.
Glenn considered telling him the truth but his tone was so wistful, he really was missing his big brother and he didn't seem to see Glenn there at all.
'Yes, it's me Merle.' He lied. Knowing that his relatively high-pitched voice and his accent couldn't be more different fromt the older Dixon's gravelly Southern drawl.
Daryl sighed with relief at that, shut his eyes and curled into him. Rested his head against Glenn's chest and fell silent. 'They hurt me, Merle. Hurt me real bad.' He shuddered then and sounded on the verge of tears again as he mumbled this into Glenn's side. 'After...they finished...with me, they...they... pissed on me and ...and ...did other things all over me.' He started to sob then, making the teenager felt like his heart was breaking for his friend who was speaking more delicately about painful subjects than he would have expected from a Dixon. He could feel him shaking against him. Glenn tried his best to think of what Merle would say in this situation but honestly – couldn't think of anything.
'Sh...sh. Ya safe, ya safe. I've got you now.' But he was thinking: Fuck! What do I do now? He thinks I'm his brother but it seems to calm him down. Do I try and comfort him? What would Merle do?
He tried gripping his arms to still him but that was obviously was the wrong thing to do as Daryl bucked and immediately jerked out of hold. Idiot! Glenn cursed himself. He'd seen bruises there where they must have pinned him down.
'Sh...sh...Sorry.' He whispered. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'
Daryl snorted as if he didn't believe anyone could hurt him but he did relax again. Yet, he still didn't wake up.
Glenn couldn't for the life of him imagine Merle comforting anybody. So he did what Glenn would do. Put his arms loosely around him, giving him plenty of room to move so that he didn't feel trapped or pinned down. Stroked his hair with one hand. Did Merle ever stroke Daryl's hair? Glenn didn't think so. Yet, it felt nice, cuddling up with the normally fierce and physically unapproachable hunter like he'd always wanted but had never been allowed to. Nevertheless, he could tell that Daryl liked what he did even in his sleep because he made a pleased sound in his closer to him when he did that and his breathing became regular.

What if he wakes up and finds me here in bed with him in the morning? Panics...and kills me? Herschell said that he would have problems trusting any man – even us he knows – at first.
Even though he could snap my neck like a twig under normal circumstances.
Glenn hadn't needed to worry, he did eventually doze off and seeing Daryl sleeping peacefully before dawn broke and no danger of nightmares or bad childhood memories resurfacing, he gently disengaged himself from him. So that he barely noticed in his sleep. Got out of bed and went back to the tower. Got back in bed and cuddled up with Maggie instead. Luckily, she hadn't woken up and noticed his absence.

So both sides were happy and he smiled as he fell asleep, the horror of the condtion they'd found Daryl in and what had happened to him fading a little from his mind.

He also knew that they had to get Merle back- even though he was the last living person on Earth that he and Maggie ever wanted to see 'd do it for Daryl because instinctively, he knew that Merle could help his brother get over Woodbury. Glenn made a note to tell Rick when he woke up to Maggie hitting him over the head with a pillow, laughing 'Wake up, Lazy Bones!'. Maybe she would even want to make love before breakfast like they often did. He always slept longer than her – well, he teased her - he was the one who was still a teenager. She'd slap him back playfully for that.
But then probably she wouldn't- nobody would be in a cheerful mood because of what had happened to Daryl.

Nevertheless, for the first time since they'd rescued Daryl 24 hours ago, Glenn felt hope.