I just changed this chapter slightly ...added a shock revelation I was saving for the next chapter but it explains why Daryl is in such a state and on second thoughts fits in better here...
What's Daddy Dixon done to Daryl? And why can't he fight him off even though he's dying? And what exactly were the pills he forced down his throat?
Poor Daryl. He doesn't deserve any of this and it seems whatever he's doing to him is making him go backwards to how he was when the others found him in that jail cell in Woodbury.
What's Merle going to do?

i.

Merle gasped and put his hand over his mouth in shock when he saw them together and he wasn't someone who was easily shocked. His first impulse was to drag his sobbing brother away from their father and then beat the bastard down, dying or not. Will had his arms around Daryl – was touching him with his filthy hands...all over him. His face, his arm, even his hair and his brother clearly didn't want it.

What the fuck ya doin' to him?' He snarled. Even now their father was tightening his grip around his brother who wasn't even trying to resist. But at least they were both fully-clothed. But what had he expected ? That their father would...could overpower his brother like that? That was just sick and unbelievable. Yet...

Worst still, he was in Merle's sleeping-bag! He'd never be able to use it ever again!

'Nothin'. He was jus' tellin' me about those animals and what they did to him at Woodbury, poor boy.'

'And why the fuck would he do that? Tell ya of all people about that shit?'

Daryl shook his head and sniffed and he could see that he was trying desperately to get himself back under control and stop crying. Merle noticed his black pupils spinning wide like saucers. It was clear to him that he'd been drugged.

'Merle...' His brother stretched out one shaky hand to him and pleaded with his eyes. 'Get him off m...'

The older Dixon brother didn't waste time thinking but aiming above Daryl's head and taking care not to hit him, he punched his father hard in the face. Will grunted and his hold of him slipped.

Merle snatched his hapless brother who seemed to have trouble moving and pushed him to the side of the tent. When he'd got Daryl safely away from their father, he rounded on the sick man and started kicking him as hard as he could with his heavy hiking boots. In his chest, his stomach, almost ripping the walls of the tent down in the fury of his attack. He didn't stop even when he vaguely heard Daryl's quiet sounds of protest behind him.

Their father just grunted at each assault but otherwise didn't react or show that it hurt. He was a Dixon after all and the oldest and the meanest of them.

'What were ya sayin' to him to make him cry like that, ya sick fuck?' He paused.

'Nothin.' Jus' talkin' is all. Tryin' to make him feel better actually.' Will breathed harshly and blood was trickling from a cut on his forehead and despite his anger, Merle felt a stab of shame for hitting an old man, a dying man at that. Whatever he'd done to them, he'd still given them life, such as it was. But then he looked back at his brother, who seemed like he was on the verge of passing out.

'Don't believe that. Ya gave him somethin', didn't ya?'

Will chuckled.

'What did ya give him, fucker?' Merle grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and eye-balled him, getting right in his face although the stink of death and booze nauseated him and the old familiar revulsion hit him whenever he was in his father's vicinity. He was so intent on getting the answer out of him that neither of them paid attention to Daryl.

'Jus' a couple of my painkillers!' Their father crowed. 'Ain't got nothin' in 'em – jus' some low grade morphine.' He drawled. 'The shit barely takes the edge off anymore!

'Why did ya do that?'

'Thought it would make him relaxed...Have a real father and son talk...Clear the air.'

'That true, baby brother?' Merle looked back to Daryl who was shaking his head frantically, begging him with his eyes to not be taken in by their father's lies.

The stupid boy thought they were truth pills!' Will laughed again, merrily like a jolly grandfather. Or a Santa Claus minus the red cheeks bursting with good health but his sons knew better. 'So gullible!'

Merle glanced back at his brother again and watched him take in a sharp breath and hug his knees. Looking small like he used to when they were kids and he was scared. At least he looked like he'd got control over his limbs again.

'It's OK, it's OK.' Merle crooned over at him before he turned his attention back to their father.

'Where are they?' He patted the sleeping bag and the floor of the tent, searching under their belongings until he found the small prescription bottle.

He read the label and saw that their father had been telling the truth about the white pills.

'I'll take these.' He grinned at his father's look of panic.

'No, ya can't...The pain...' He gasped and even appealed to his youngest son but Daryl deliberately turned away silently.

'I'm due one soon...' His face contorted suddenly with pain and he grabbed his side. The suspicion that maybe he was playacting or exaggerating crossed the older Dixon brother's mind but then he dismissed it. He grinned heartlessly at him.

'Oh, don't worry, Dad. I'm sure ya tell the others and they'll get some more for ya the next time they go on a run. Or ya can ask Herschell if he's got any... 'Cept I don't think anyone'll help ya when I tell'em what ya did.'

'Ya wouldn't.' He gasped in pain. 'I didn't do nothin' to ya brother, I swear. We were jus' talkin', was all.'

'Yeah, looked like it. I meant what ya did to me when I was a kid...Tell'em ya dangerous, sick or not. Don't think Rick'll take too kindly to ya hangin' around his ...Likely to jus' chuck ya out.'

Will laughed again. 'A pussy like ya wouldn't dare otherwise ya would have told him by now. Let'em know that ya were ya Daddy's little bitch in bed? No, ya couldn't.'

Daryl winced but his brother only smiled, showing all his teeth.

'I'll do anythin' to get ya out of our lives for once and for all. They won't blame me. It wasn't my fault! I was jus' a kid!'

'And I will.' Daryl spoke up then. 'I'll tell 'em what ya are.'

Will goggled disbelievingly at the both of them, looking from one to the other, holding his side, trying to will the pain away that had let itself be felt since his oldest had burst in on them.

'So get out now, Dad. We gotta clean up ya mess.'

'First give me my pills and then I'll go.' He swiped at Merle who took a step back, hands in his pocket.

'No. Ya can go without'em. Go and ask Herschel.'

'Please.' The old man begged, desperation in his eyes and both of them startled because they'd never heard that tone in his voice before. Or heard him beg for anything.

'Give 'em to him.' Daryl ordered his brother.

'Are ya serious?'

'Yeah. Jus' do it!' He insisted.

Merle sheepishly put his hand back in his pocket and tossed the bottle down. Watched in amusement to see their father scrabbling for it then kicked him hard while he was on the floor, deliberately aiming for where his liver was.

'Merle!' Now the old bastard was rolling around the floor in agony while his oldest son laughed scornfully down at him and drew back his boot to kick him in the same place again. He was enjoying this and getting revenge for them at the same time.

'That's enough!' Daryl snapped. 'Get out of here, Dad, if ya know what's good for ya.'

…

As soon as their father staggered out, hastily swallowing 3 of the white pills as he left, So much for just one Merle thought nastily, Daryl took one look at his brother and broke down again. Merle comforted him as best as he could.

'What did he do to ya, huh?' He wound his arms around him gently.

His brother didn't reply, only carried on sobbing against his chest while he stroked his hair, his arms, even the nape of his neck that always got him calm before. But not this time.

'What was he whisperin' to ya when I came in? Tell Merle.'

Daryl only shook his head.

'Was it about what happened at Woodbury?'

'He was there.' He spoke quietly but his trembling doubled at that, his chest hitching as he struggled for breath, giving him a clue.

Merle's breath hitched in his own chest in sympathy. 'What do ya mean?'

'He was there, he was fuckin' THERE!' Daryl sobbed. 'He knew things...things I ain't told nobody...They had me drugged most of the time...'

Merle carried on stroking his hair, his voice full of suppressed horror. 'Did he...Do ya remember him?'

'I don't want to talk about it!' Daryl snapped and his brother knew better than to press him. He'd tell him when he was ready or maybe never...Meanwhile, his mind whirled with so many terrible possibilities he could hardly bear it. But it was their Dad - even he wouldn't...

Wouldn't do what? His mind taunted him.

'Sh...Sh...baby...'

'Don't fuckin' call me that!'

'Sorry. I'll sort it out this time, promise. I'm gonna go and tell Rick what he did to me...He's gotta listen!'

'No, ya don't have to...' Daryl managed to get out the words. 'Probably won't believe ya anyway.'

'We'll see.'

But his brother wouldn't be soothed and he cursed their old man not for the first time. Wishing Daryl had let him put him out of his misery and theirs earlier before he could come back and make all the progress they'd made since he was rescued for nothing.

Merle knew he had to try something else. So he ran his hands up his Daryl's shirt to stroke the skin there.

'No – don't!' Bad move – his brother immediately panicked and pushed him away.

'Sh...' He took hold of him again, a little more firmly this time.

'Didn't mean it like that...as if I were gonna try anythin' with ya in this state, huh? Think I want ya like that when ya upset like this?' He lied.

Daryl whimpered but let him put his arm around him again and hold him close.

'Sh...Jus' tell me what the bastard said to ya. What he did. Come on.'

But Daryl wouldn't.

Eventually after he didn't know how long but the sun was sinking in the sky, his brother finally stopped weeping . Merle knew that they were cooking the squirrels he'd caught when he let Daryl sleep late, he could smell them and despite all the drama, he was hungry.

'Come on.' He pulled his brother up by the arm. 'Ya hungry?'

Daryl shook his head and slumped back down again. Merle prayed that he wasn't going back to being how he was before. Not eating.

'I'm gonna tell Rick now, OK?'

His brother looked at him in surprise even though he'd already told him he was going to. But Daryl hadn't really believed it... To admit that he'd been weak and powerless and used in such a shameful manner by their own father...even if it wasn't his fault. (how often he had to tell himself that but he still didn't really believe it) ...used like a whore in place of their mother.

'Comin'?'

Daryl shrugged. 'Think I'll stay here. Unless ya need me to come with ya...' But Merle could see that he was reluctant to leave the tent.

'I'll be OK. ' He told him even though he felt like he could have done with him there for backup and handed him his gun. 'But if he comes back here, shoot him. I mean it this time, OK?'

Daryl gave a small, grim smile before he turned his back to lie back down on his side.

Merle glanced back at him worriedly before he undid the tent's flap. Not sure if he should leave him alone.

'Don't worry about me. I'll be OK.'

Yet he still hesitated, uncertain.

….

Merle walked past the campfire where the delicious smells were wafting from, making his stomach rumble, getting his freaked out and drugged brother to finally calm down had taken ages. He wondered why the morphine (if that's what it had really been, he thought sourly) hadn't made his brother sleepy and mellow instead.

The food he'd caught without Daryl wasn't ready yet, was being cooked by Beth and her sister on dinner duty tonight with Glenn helping. They looked at him coldly as he went past but didn't bother to greet him. No surprise there.

No sign either of their old man, he hoped that the bastard would have the sense to keep a low profile after what happened today even if he was hungry. The cancer didn't seem to be affecting his appetite just yet.

He made his way decisively to the leader's tent – not the one he shared with his family but the kind of makeshift office he'd set up. There was even a small desk with pen and paper inside.

He called out before he went in. 'Ya there, Rick? I need to speak to ya.'

'Come in.'

No surprise Shane was there to discuss camp business and Merle glared at him.

'Alone.' He snapped.

Shane's eyebrows rose and he looked at his buddy for direction.

'That's OK. Go, Shane. I think I know what this is about.' Rick sighed.

Merle took a deep, shaky breath. He really didn't want to do this...tell anyone, especially this arrogant ex-cop who had abandoned his brother and who he still blamed for what Woodbury did to him.

He'd never wanted Daryl to find out, not in a million years. Make him carry the guilt but it had happened.

He'd set his personal pride aside to protect Daryl, he personally didn't give a shit about the bastard's kid – would serve Rick right if their father molested the brat but if it meant that he would drive out their father to die alone and he didn't mess with his little brother anymore, he'd do it. He'd make himself weak and naked even in front of this man, telling him his darkest secret.

That once he'd been a Dixon unable to fight back.

He cleared his throat before he began.

'