Chapter 4

I gasped, feeling the sting of my father's belt smacking against my back. I had run out of tears a long time ago, resorting to curling into a ball and taking the beating. "You'll never learn, girl!" He shouted as he continued to rain down blow after blow. The skin on my back felt wet and I knew I was starting to bleed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I muttered over and over again, willing him to stop. Eventually he got tired, delivering one last blow before throwing the belt on the floor and walking towards the front door.

"I need a fuckin' drink…" He muttered as he slammed the door shut.

The silence in the house was deafening after he was gone, the only sound was my loud sniffling. I lay on the floor, trying to find the energy to stand up. I just couldn't understand why he hated me so much. I had accidentally slammed the door when I left the house for school that morning, and when I got home he was waiting for me with the belt, saying I ruined his day by slamming the fucking door.

Eventually I dragged myself to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I carefully peeled my shirt off and threw it into the bathtub. It was red with splotches of blood, clearly ruined. I grabbed a clean washcloth and wet it in the sink. I was doing the best I could to carefully clean out the lashes on my back, using the mirror to try to see what I was doing, when I heard the door open. I stiffened, and stopped what I was doing so I could listen. I relaxed when I realized the footsteps definitely didn't belong to my father.

I continued to attempt to clean myself up when suddenly someone knocked loudly on the door. "That you in there, Daryl? Need to take a piss." Merle said.

Fuck. "It's me, Merle. Go away." I shouted through the door.

I didn't hear him walk away and I could tell he was still standing at the door. "I said I gotta take a piss, Lily Bird. You get out of there or I'm gonna come in, ready or not."

"Ugh, Merle!" I shouted at the door.

"Get decent, cuz here I come," he said before the door swung open. I was wearing a sports bra, but of course as soon as the door opened I turned my back to Merle in an attempt to hide myself.

"Merle!" I shouted over my shoulder. "What if I was naked or somethin'?"

Merle laughed. "Well you weren't were ya? So we're good." Merle paused and I could tell he was looking at my shredded back. "Yer makin' a bloody mess of that by the way," He said, pointing at my back. "You pissed the old man off pretty good, huh?"

I just nodded. "I can't reach it, and it's so fuckin' hard to see what I'm doin," I said, pathetically.

"Gimme that," Merle said as he grabbed the washcloth from me. He pushed me down to sit on the toilet seat and began to clean off the lashes. I grimaced. He wasn't being gentle at all.

"Ease up a bit, would ya?" I said, over my shoulder. I wasn't a wimp or anything but my god the pain of Merle cleaning the cuts was almost as bad as when I got them.

Merle just laughed. "Is that what yer gonna tell the old man next time he comes down on you with the belt?" I just closed my eyes and put my head down, steeling myself against the pain. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He added, responding to my silence. What was I supposed to say? He was right.

"No one's gonna coddle you in this world, Lily Bird, 'specially not me," Merle said as he held me down to disinfect all the cuts with alcohol. "Yer a Dixon, ya hear? Gotta toughen up a bit, understand?"

"I got it, Merle." I said, through gritted teeth.

"Good. I'm only sayin' it cuz I love ya, girly." He said, throwing the washcloth into the tub with my dirty shirt. "Now get off the fuckin' toilet and let me take a piss." I smiled for the first time that day as I stood up off the toilet.

…

I woke up with tears in my eyes. I felt totally disoriented for a couple minutes before I remembered what happened the day before. I must have cried myself to sleep because it was definitely night time now. I had clearly slept for hours. I turned on the small lantern next to my cot and looked over at Daryl's cot. It was empty. I was alone. I huffed and sat up. My ribs screamed at me in protest as I pulled myself into a standing position.

I realized I was drenched in sweat and I felt absolutely disgusting. This heat was fucking relentless. I peeled my dirt and blood splattered tank top off and threw it in the corner of the tent. I had several defined darkening bruises covering my ribs on both sides, courtesy of Merle's beat down. "Son of a bitch," I muttered to myself. I plopped back down onto my cot. I looked down at my feet and I realized I still had my shoes on. I shucked them off and threw them on top of my dirty tank top.

I just sat there for a couple minutes, reliving the past couple days in my head. Then I realized it. While I was sitting here in the comfort of this goddamn tent, Daryl and Merle could have been dead. Holy shit. I started to panic. Merle was as good as dead chained to that roof and how the hell was I supposed to know if Daryl was even alive? What have I done? I pushed us all apart. I caused all this!

My head was pounding and my breaths were coming in short stabs. I realized I was having a panic attack. I couldn't calm myself down. I pictured Merle with his throat ripped out, lifelessly bleeding to death on that fucking roof. Daryl alone, in the middle of the woods, dozens of walkers feasting on his body. I leaned over and dry heaved. There was nothing in my system to puke out. I put my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. I felt tears streaming down my face. Daryl is fine. Daryl is fine. Daryl is fine. I repeated to myself over and over again until I felt like I was in control.

I turned off the lantern and lay back down. I didn't even bother putting on a new shirt, I just pulled my knees to my chest and rocked myself back and forth. I silently cried until I finally fell back asleep.

…

"…GET UP!" I woke to a loud voice. I shot up in my bed and looked around, disoriented. Daryl was standing at the entrance to the tent and I barely had a second to feel relieved that he was alive before he was storming towards me. I flinched back on my cot and pulled the blanket over myself. Why the fuck didn't I put a shirt on last night?

Daryl stood next to the cot, totally fuming. I didn't know what to say. "Daryl..." was all I stuttered out, before he roughly grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to my feet. I gasped in shock.

He glared down at me, "What the fuck happened on that fucking roof?"

I tried to twist my arm out of his grasp but he only held tighter. "Let go, asshole!" I shouted at him.

At the sound of our struggle, the two cops burst into our tent. "Let her go, Dixon!" Shane shouted at Daryl.

Daryl was livid. "What? You worried I'm gonna hurt her? You can just stay the fuck out of this, pig! You two assholes did enough!"

I didn't need Rick and Shane to protect me. "Just get out!" I shouted, "I'm fine!" Rick just put his hands up and grabbed Shane's arm. They backed out of the tent, but I had a feeling they would wait close by.

As soon as they were gone Daryl rounded on me again, "You fuckin' left our brother chained to a roof?"

I shoved Daryl away from me and he finally let go of my arm. I couldn't think with him all over me like that. I crossed my arms over my chest, self-conscious that I was fuckin' shirtless still. "Look, Daryl, it's not like I had the key!" I threw my arms up, "We were in the fuckin' van before I even –"

Daryl suddenly pointed at me. "What the fuck happened to you?" I quickly put my arms back over my stomach, but it was too late. Daryl moved closer to me again and I slowly moved my arms back down to my sides. I looked down at my feet. "Who did this to you?" Daryl asked, lifting my chin up and brushing his thumb over the bruise I knew Merle left on my cheek.

I turned away from him, hunting for my tank top in the corner of the tent. As soon as I found it I pulled it over my head, trying not to wince at the pain of lifting my arms above my head. "Daryl," I started, turning back towards him, "it was kind of my fault –"

"Just stop, Lily. Either you tell me or I'm gonna get it out of that fuckin' cop." I could see his anger boiling to the surface.

"It was Merle, Daryl. That's why Rick chained him to the roof." I said, as quietly as I could.

Daryl just looked at me. He turned around and ran his hand through his hair, then sat down on his cot. "What happened?" He asked, almost sounding like he didn't want to know. But I knew I had to tell him.

I sat down. "Merle just fuckin' lost it, worse than ever before. He was pickin' off walkers from the roof, makin' a ruckus like a fuckin' idiot. We all went up there and he got into it with T-Dog. Merle was high and he just rubbed him the wrong way. Merle started beatin' on him," Daryl scoffed and I paused.

"Guy probably deserved what he got," Daryl said, shrugging.

I shook my head. "You weren't there to see the look in his eyes, Daryl. Merle was gonna kill him. That guy Rick tried to pull him off, but Merle hit him too. You know how he gets when he's high, like a fuckin' freight train, ain't no stoppin' him." Daryl nodded in agreement. "I stepped in and tried to talk some sense into him. He wouldn't listen, then he just slapped me. I fell cuz I wasn't expectin' it. I don't think he's ever hit me that hard. Then he started kickin' me while I was down."

Daryl looked disgusted. "And all those other fuckers just watched?"

"He had the gun," I said, exasperated. "Bottom line, he beat me pretty good. He was threatenin' everyone, but then Rick took him down from behind, chained him to the pipe. You know the rest." Daryl stood up and started pacing the tent.

"Fuck!" He shouted, suddenly. "I shouldn't have fuckin' let you go. I knew this was gonna be a shit show."

I stood up, "I don't need you to fuckin' let me do anything, Daryl. I made my own decisions. Merle made his bed, now he's gotta lay in it."

"So what?" Daryl shouted at me, getting in my face again, "You wanna let him rot on that fuckin' roof cuz he gave you a few scratches? Thought you were tougher than that."

I could feel my face turning red, the anger boiling under my skin. "You don't think he woulda done the same to me? Or you?" I gestured at him wildly, "and you know I can fuckin' take a punch, you asshole. We've got the same damn scars, big brother!" I shoved my finger into his chest.

"To hell with ya!" Daryl shouted, ripping open the tent to leave.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards me. "That's it? To hell with me? Where the fuck are you going?"

Daryl shrugged my hand off, "I'm gonna go get him. One of us has to care about Merle, cuz you sure as hell don't!"

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Don't act like I don't care! I'm the one that went to Atlanta to protect him! You said he would be fine, but look where it got me!" I gestured to my face.

Daryl shook his head. "You know he was high. I'll bring him back here, we'll get him sober again, and it'll be fine. You'll see." I could hear the desperation in his voice.

I wanted to let Merle go so bad, but as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted Daryl to be right. "Look, Daryl," I started, taking a deep, calming breath. "We'll both go, bring him back together. Maybe this time you'll be right."

"No. You know what Lily?" Daryl asked as he turned his back on me. "Just stay here, you've done enough." I stepped back, stunned and hurt by his words. How was this my fault?

I stared at the entrance to the tent, even after he was gone. For some reason, the sting of Daryl's words hurt more than the bruises Merle left behind.

…

After Daryl left, I paced around the tent. After a while, I realized it was pointless to sit in the tent like a fucking crybaby. I still had dried blood caked on various parts of my body so I decided cleaning myself up was a good place to start. As soon as I walked out of the tent to get a pot of water, I wished I could just turn around and go right back in.

The whole fucking camp was staring at me, probably looking for new bruises, no doubt thinking Daryl got physical with me. I just kept my head up and didn't make eye contact with anyone and eventually they went back to whatever they were doing. I got the biggest pot I could find and made my way down to the lake to fill it.

I kicked every rock in front of me on my way to the lake, venting out my frustration. As soon as I got to my destination, I just stood and stared straight in front of me. I closed my eyes and just listened to the sounds of the water, birds in the sky, the wind blowing, and my own breathing. After a couple seconds, I felt marginally better, at least ready to face the rest of this day. I filled my bucket, and I was on my way.

On my walk back, struggling to carry the full pot of water, I regretted the whole decision. I could barely handle the pot, walking over the rough terrain, up the fucking hill. My ribs were screaming in protest, and I was sure I was hurting myself even more, but godammit I was gonna make it back to my tent. I was still pretty far from camp when I tripped over a particularly large rock. I stumbled and dropped the whole pot. I jumped out of the way, but the water still managed to soak the front of my shirt and shorts. "Fuck!" I screamed.

I was fuming, bending over to grab the pot when my ribs gave a particularly painful throb. I immediately doubled over, kneeling on the ground. "You alright there?" I heard someone ask from behind.

I sat up and Shane was standing in front of me. "I'm fine." I mumbled.

He just held out his hand, "You need someone to look at those injuries?" I grudgingly took his hand to get to my feet, trying not to wince.

"I can manage myself." I said, staring blankly at him.

Shane chuckled, looking to the side, "Ya know, it's ok to let someone help you every now and then."

I shrugged. "Yah, whatever."

I started to walk away, but Shane added, "Hey, that shit that went down with your brother ain't yer fault."

I turned around again, starting to get frustrated. "What the hell do you know about it?"

"I know a lot about it. I've dealt with a lot of guys like Merle. Rough, abusive, just fuckin' drunks," I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just kept going. "Look at that psycho Ed down there, the way he watches Carol and his kid, you know somethin' ain't right there."

"You know that's none of our damn business. Besides, where do you come off talkin' about my brother like that, huh?" I said, raising my voice.

Shane shrugged, "You tryin' to say I'm not right about yer brother? I saw those damn bruises on yer stomach."

I self-consciously crossed my arms over my chest. "He didn't mean it…" I trailed off. What was I doing? I didn't need to explain anything to this asshole. "What happens between me and my family is my business. Doesn't concern you." I spat at Shane.

Shane scoffed, "Bet that's what people said about yer old man, huh? It was none of their damn business? Hell, I bet you just told yerself, 'he doesn't mean it,' huh? Didn't you?"

I stepped back, shocked by his words. "What the fuck?" I shouted at him, angrily throwing the pot at his feet. I walked away, not even bothering to look back at him. What a fucking asshole! Thinks he fucking knows me and my family. Where does he come off saying shit like that?

Even as I raged at Shane in my head, a small voice in the back of my mind said, he's right.

…

I was sitting outside our tent, furiously scrubbing at my dirty tank top. I wasn't about to toss out one of the three shirts I had. I was wearing one of Daryl's cleaner flannel shirts, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. I probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care what any of these people thought of me.

After my spat with Shane, I filled a considerably smaller, manageable bucket up with rain water and moved on to my next task of laundry. I was close to giving up on my shirt. The blood stains had dulled to a dirty rust color. I suppose that was good enough for me. I was ringing out the shirt as best as I could when a pair of boots walked into my line of sight. I knew it was Shane. Again. "What do you want?" I practically spat at him, not even bothering to look up.

"Thought you might want this. I boiled it off for ya." I finally looked up and Shane was holding the big pot I threw at him.

I glared at him. "Thanks," I said, jerking my chin at the ground at my feet. Shane smirked and set the pot down next to me. He had such a cocky way about him, drove me up the fucking wall.

"Look, Lily," Shane started, kneeling next to me. "I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't in the best mood and I guess I was out of line."

I stood up and walked into the tent to get a clean rag. I plopped back down on my chair and Shane was still there. "Yeah," I said, "You were out of line." I dipped the rag into the water and it was still warm. I grinned at the feeling.

Shane stood up. "Well I'll leave ya to it. Andrea and Amy caught some fish. We're gonna fry it up later, if you want some dinner."

I paused what I was doing. "Oh. Maybe." Shane just nodded and started to walk away. "Wait, Shane?" He stopped and turned back. "Um, thanks?" I said it like a question, but honestly it was the best I could do. I wasn't gonna get all sentimental over a bucket of water and some fish.

He laughed as he turned to walk away, but I heard him call over his shoulder, "Sure thing, Dixon."

I shook my head as he walked away. I sure knew how to make a fool of myself, that's for sure. But I had to admit, my mood was perking up. Even though it burned something fierce, the warm water felt heavenly, cleaning up my scraped knee. I washed all the blood off my legs and arms and by the time I was done I felt like I could finally breathe easy for the first time in days.

As I sat there, just watching the goings on of the camp, I felt like I could have a little hope for the future. Daryl would bring back Merle and maybe, just maybe, he would get his act together. We could set off on our own again, maybe find somewhere to hunker down for a little while…

Or maybe Merle and Daryl would just leave me here…the bad thoughts slowly crept into my head. Who was I kidding? It's not like we would set off into a fucking sunset. As Daryl said, I had "done enough" to screw up their lives. That's for sure. They would probably be better off cutting their losses. That was me.

I huffed and stood up. I didn't need to sit here and cry like a little baby. Besides, Daryl wouldn't just leave me. He just wouldn't. I repeated that to myself over and over again until I felt like I believed it.

…

A couple hours later, I found myself squished between Andrea and the old man. I wasn't particularly enjoying the closeness, but I wasn't complaining. For the first time in weeks, my belly was full and I had a beer in my hand. I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation, just staring into the fire, lost in my own thoughts. I was trying to keep my mind off the fact that Daryl and the rest of the group hadn't returned yet…

"…Lily?" I looked up, not sure who was talking to me.

"Huh?" I said, stupidly.

"What did you do before this?" Jacqui asked. I could tell it wasn't the first time, I must have been totally spaced out.

"Oh…" I started, "I worked at a bar, ya know, waitress, bartender, whatever I had to do."

A bunch of people just nodded. I bet they were thinking figures…ugh I had to stop being so fucking negative. "What about your brothers?" Andrea asked.

I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted these people to know about me and my family. "Daryl worked construction, managed a crew. Merle did odd jobs, I guess. Never held anything." There was that look again. Figures.

"That's nice," Lori said. When the group could tell I wasn't gonna share anything else, they went back to talking and I went back to staring at the fire. Occasionally I would stare at the trees behind us, willing Daryl to pop out with Merle right behind him. Surprise! Yeah right, like that would happen…

I heard some laughter and snapped out of my thoughts, staring at the group. Amy was standing up, rolling her eyes at Andrea. "Geez, can't anyone have a little privacy around here?" She laughed while making her way to the RV. I had no idea where she was going but it's not like I cared anyways.

It seemed like a couple seconds went by, when I heard the screaming. I whirled around and saw Amy, a walker latched onto her arm. She was letting out a blood curdling scream as it tore at her arm hungrily. The whole group sprang into action after that, all of us going separate ways. Walkers were coming out of the shadows and surrounding the camp. I grabbed my knife off the ground next to me, thankful that I had thought to bring it with me. I stared around, looking for a gap so I could run to safety. It was chaos around me, I could hear gunshots coming from every direction and screaming kids.

Suddenly, I could hear the moaning of a walker coming from behind. I whirled around, slamming my knife into its skull. The walker fell to the ground, taking me with him, while I tried to pull the knife out. I was finally able to yank the knife out and that's when I ran for it. I saw an opening that was walker free and sprinted for the trees, hoping to get as far away from the carnage as possible. I held the bloody knife in front of me as I ran, ready to attack again.

When the noise of the massacre grew quieter, I slowed down. It was pitch black and I could barely see in front of me. I spotted a tree a few yards away from me and quickly scrambled up the branches, trying to get as high as possible. Once I felt I was high enough, I hugged the branch I was on for dear life and listened. Over the sound of my own ragged breathing, I could hear some leaves crunching, no doubt more walkers making their way to the feast. I stayed as silent as possible as they made their way under my tree, and after a few minutes they were gone.

After about fifteen minutes, everything had quieted down, no more gunshots or screaming. I wondered who had even survived, if anyone. That's when I heard him. "Lily! Lily!" Daryl was shouting for me. I scrambled down the branches as fast as I could, trying to remember where the branches were because I couldn't see what I was doing.

"I'm here!" I shouted, just as I missed a branch. I fell the final four feet or so, straight to the ground, but I was up and running before I felt any pain. All I could hear were my feet crunching the leaves of the forest as I sprinted.

Suddenly, I slammed into somebody. Or something. I couldn't tell if it was human or walker and I threw my knife out, only to have it smacked out of my hand. "It's me, you idiot!" I heard Daryl grunt into my ear. I was on top of him.

I let my body go lax on top of him. "Oh, god." I muttered, pressing my face into his shirt. He didn't respond, just hauled me to my feet.

"You bit?" Daryl asked, brushing leaves off my back.

When I didn't respond right away, Daryl grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Stop!" I snapped. "I'm fine!"

"Jesus, I thought you were dead. I was about to start checkin' the bodies." Daryl said, still holding onto my shoulders. We looked at each other for a minute and I could see it in his eyes. Merle was gone. "Let's go back." Daryl said, breaking my gaze. I just nodded and let him pull me along, back to the camp.

We paused next to the dying fire, just staring at the wreckage. I could hear sobbing coming from all directions. I saw the crumpled body of Amy lying next to the RV, Andrea sobbing over her sister's dead body. I shivered and Daryl put his arm around my shoulders. I shuffled closer to his side, grateful to be alive.

TBC

A/N: Thanks everyone for all the thoughtful comments, I'm glad everyone is enjoying reading the story so far, it's been a lot of fun to write. Please keep leaving your comments, it keeps me going!

P.S. is anyone as excited for the return of The Walking Dead as I am? We're only a week away!