TTWH 5

i.

Glenn

The second night, he would sneak off, leaving a note for Maggie explaining that Daryl needed him and crawl into the Dixon's bed. Glenn felt guilty for leaving his wife but it wasn't like he was cheating on her and while she would never forgive his brother, he knew that she cared about him. After all, she'd cried when they'd found him and would do anything to help him. She'd understand, he told himself.

Herschel told him that he was worse at night – he'd toss and turn – dreaming about his father or those men. During the day he dozed, kept drugged by Herschel.

'How long are you going to be keep him drugged up like that?' Glenn asked the vet.

'Until he's calm and his wounds heal up some.'

Carol was feeding him what they could and make sure he drank water when the sedatives began to wear off and he was semi-conscious.

So Glenn slipped in, just to keep him company. Daryl was already tossing and turning, muttering. 'Don't. Get the fuck off me...I ain't doin' it...I'm gonna fuckin' end ya.' He snarled viciously and Glenn couldn't tell if he was dreaming of his Daddy or those men but at least he wasn't moaning or crying. Sounded stronger, almost like his normal self. 'Don't touch me!'

But then he whimpered. 'Daddy! No!' Tears started leaking down from his closed eyelids.

'Sh...Sh.' He bent down to stroke his hair.

'No! No!...Get off me.' Glen immediately jerked his hand away. 'Daddy, don't.' He pleaded.

'It's OK, it's OK...' Glenn got in the narrow cot with him, 'I'm here.' He whispered and put his arms around him, carefully making sure that he didn't pin him down or restrict his movements in any way because that seemed to set off the panic. 'Sh...sh...It's OK...It's OK..' He soothed but curious, he gently lifted up the other man's shirt - no striped pyjamas this time - with one hand and saw the cuts and bruises healing there.

'Sick bastards.' He hissed in shock, hoping Daryl didn't hear his outraged outburst though he'd been there when they rescued him and he knew about them already. Glenn gently tugged the shirt back down again. The Dixon seemed to sense his presence, even in his sleep and it seemed to start to calm him down.

'Merle?' The Dixon's voice was soft, wistful this time.

'Yeah, it's me, Merle.' Glenn lied. 'I got you.'

Daryl growled ferally but then sighed shudderingly and went limp.

Glenn held him and moved his hand through his hair until he settled down.

It was kind of cosy like sharing a bed with a sibling when you were young. Reminded Glenn of getting into bed with his older sister when he had bad dreams – when he was four or five. He felt that pang of grief then because he didn't know where she was or even if she was still alive even though he had a wife now. Zoe'd been working in Atlanta but then the city had been one of the first Southern cities to fall. After a time, the teenager fell asleep himself.

….

Shortly after, he woke up with a start. Found himself pinned to the bed, someone's hands around his throat. Squeezing.

'D...Daryl...' He instinctively started scrabbling at the choking fingers.

The Dixon shook his head and the burning rage began to fade from his eyes.

Glenn felt like he was on the verge of blacking out as the other held him down in a grip of iron.

'Please...I can't breathe.'

The older man let him go with a grunt. Seemed to come back to himself, shook his head. 'Sorry.' He apologised gruffly like he wasn't used to saying the word. 'Thought ya were...' He shuddered. 'It don't matter now more. But what the fuck ya doin' in here, anyways?'

'You were...were...' Glenn gasped, trying to get his breath back.

Daryl snorted. 'What?' His tone dangerous warning the other to be careful.

'Nightmares.'

Daryl dropped his gaze. Glenn touched his arm. He let it stay.

'You didn't want to be alone.' He tried to explain.

'Go back to sleep.' The Dixon ordered and turned his back to him and closed his eyes. 'And don't keep me awake with ya snorin' like a fuckin' steam-train.' Unseen by Glenn, a small smile played around his lips.

At least he didn't order me to go. Maybe he was glad of the company and not worried that we look like homosexuals. Glenn was glad that he let him stay but he knew that as soon as his friend was safely asleep, he was going to go back to his wife. But Glenn didn't know that when Daryl asleep again there were no more bad dreams. In fact he dreamt a comforting one of running in the meadow with his brother when they were boys. Merle giving him a headstart until he caught up with him and bowled him over. Tickling his belly until he cried for mercy.

'I'm coming back for ya, Little Darlena. Know ya in trouble.' Merle whispered in his ear, his unshaved cheek tickling his ear until Daryl squirmed against him and he laughed. 'And I ain't ever leavin' ya again, baby brother.'

….

ii.

Merle

Later, after he came back and found his little brother again, Merle wish it had been him. He knew he could have taken it – whatever the sick fucks had done to him. But Daryl – it wasn't like he was weak or anything – in fact, he was one of the strongest men Merle had ever known. Yet it wasn't like he would have known how to deal with it. At least Merle had fucked a man before - he was pretty sure that Daryl hadn't. Merle didn't see himself as gay or even bi - a fuck was just a fuck and in prison, it had just been a matter of necessity.

And before...? The question loomed large and ugly in the forefront of his mind. But he shoved it away.

He didn't allow himself to dwell on the past.

Merle hated how fragile his baby brother looked. His blue eyes huge and haunted and far too big for his face, looking up at him from his chest where his big brother was cradling him. As usual of late, he had both arms wrapped around him protectively.

Merle kissed the top of his hair. Let his arms rub the top of Daryl's in soothing circles until he felt him slump against him. Feeling him relax, he kept his hands were they were, doing the same thing. After a while, he lowered them slightly, towards his elbows but still rubbing his arms in the same circular pattern.

Lower and lower until his hands were hovering hip-height over the belt of Daryl's pants.

Merle hesitated, not quite daring to do what he longed for even with Daryl practically comatose in bliss, eyes closed in tranquility.

Clearly, his little brother trusted him.

Slowly, very slowly Merle reached under his brother's shirt to caress the skin on his stomach. To feel the rough scars under his fingertips made there long ago by their Daddy's knife. Told himself he only wanted to feel them. Same ones he had on him.

Got him thinking about the more recent scars from him and the other sick fucks, making him clench his teeth. They'd taunted and tormented him about their Daddy and what he'd done to him – Merle could just see them do it. He vowed that he was going to hunt them all down and make them pay.

Daryl apparently wasn't that relaxed because he jerked awake immediately. Grabbed his brother's hands and ripped them away from him. Like he was the devil.

'What the fuck, Merle!' He leapt up. 'What the fuck ya doin'?'

'Nothin', sweet brother.'

'Ya touchin' me again? What the fuck's wrong with ya?'

'I didn't do nothin'. Calm the fuck down.'

'Ya as sick as he was.'

Now fully awake and having been rudely ripped from his trance where he didn't have to think about those men, the Governor or his Daddy – in fact, he hadn't thought about anything at all. Not while Merle was touching him, making him feel safe – well, safe most times.

He rounded furiously on his brother because something had been nagging at him and he needed to know.

'They said...when they...they were...'

'What did they say, baby brother? Ya know they were probably jus' fuckin' with ya head, don't ya?'

'Did you ...fuck the prisoners too? Men and... women?'

'What? Ya askin' me if I joined in rapin' them?' Merle laughed but it sounded fake even to his ears. He reached out to drag his brother back down to him.

'Ya did, didn't ya?' Now Daryl was trembling and fighting to get out of his arms. 'Get the fuck off me...Ya no better than them.'

Merle shook his head mournfully and let him go. 'I swear on Mama's grave, I didn't do none of that shit...'

'Ya one sick fuck for lyin' on her grave. Ya think I'm an idiot?'

'OK.' Merle shrugged his shoulders. 'I did somethings I ain't proud of. But they would have turned on me if I hadn't.'

'Ya a sick motherfucker, bro. Rick's right for not wantin' you here among decent folks.'

'Ya tellin' me ya wouldn't have, if ya had been in my place?'

'No, I fuckin' wouldn't have!' Daryl yelled in his face and stormed out the tent.