Aside from thinking about the sweat pooling between their hands, Daryl's mind was the same numb, blank wasteland it had been since that day he ran back to his burning home. Nobody had teased him. Nobody made any jokes about how his mother died. It was as if her death was off limits to the bullies he'd grown so used to. He stood now wearing the only dress shirt he owned, holding the hand of a girl he'd had a crush on for two years. Her name was Alice and she was a year older than him. One of the few people who was always nice to him, she asked if she could hold his hand while his father and brother helped carry the casket. All he could manage in response was a nod, and he pretended not to see the dirty looks she gave her boyfriend, who was only there for her. Daryl had never had a problem with him, aside from the fact that he took the only girl he'd ever wanted. Mostly, the kid's problems all stemmed from some feud he was in with Merle, who ignored him for his dead mother's sake. He tried not to cry, but the sight of the casket being lowered into the ground proved too much for him, and when he closed his eyes, her hand let go of his and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer so his face was nearly buried in her chest.
"Ally." Daryl ignored her boyfriend's voice, focusing on trying to stop his tears. He felt humiliated crying not only in front of her, but on her.
"Not now, David."
"Dave I swear to god if you make a fucking scene I will kill you where you stand." Daryl opened his eyes at the sound of his brother's voice and lifted his head as Alice gave his shoulder a squeeze and approached her boyfriend, scolding him. Daryl glanced back at the grave, then at his brother who's face was mere inches from David's as they stood threatening each other, completely oblivious to the dozens of onlookers who looked disappointed and angry. He felt pressure in his head that seemed to be spreading throughout his body and his tears stopped. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked around as voices were raised. His eyes landed on a three foot long wooden stick that was being used to prop up a floral arrangement with his mother's name on the banner. He walked over, unnoticed by everyone else around him, and took the stick, causing the flowers to fall to the ground. What happened next would remain a blur whenever Daryl tried to remember it. A short blackout left him standing over David, punching him as hard as he could as a bloody stick lay next to him. It was Merle who pulled him off, and someone yelled for an ambulance. It wasn't fear of the trouble he'd be in or the emotions over his dead mother that sent him running. It was the look of fear and maybe even disgust in Alice's eyes as she glanced at him over her shoulder while she held David's bleeding head in her lap. He ran, and being as fast as he was, nobody could catch him. He stayed in the woods for nearly a week after that, ashamed of his behavior. The day of the funeral was the last day Alice was ever a his friend. A short explanation about how she thought he needed to get help for his anger issues, and how she had to stay away from him until he did was all he got. After that, not a single word, and it angered him so much to see her with David that he made it a point to not get help, just as, what he referred to as, "a fuck you" to his former friend.
Merle had found him four days after the funeral. Merle always found him, and he sat on the ground with a bottle of beer as if he hadn't just walked for an hour into the woods to find his baby brother. He offered his drink to Daryl, who took it. Despite hating the taste, he drank as much as he could before Merle took it away, longing for any form of numbness he could get.
"You ain't gonna get hit when you come back. He gets it." Daryl looked at him, his dirty face showed two clean streaks under his eyes where the tears had washed the dirt away. "Dave's a prick and everyone knows it. He shouldn't'a been there but he was and he stepped out of line. Dad actually seemed happy you'd done it."
"Don't fuck with me, Merle." Daryl said quietly, shaking his head.
"Not fuckin with you, kid. You need to come home. Have you eaten?" Daryl nodded. "Thirsty?" Again, he nodded. Merle stood up and looked around the woods silently, wondering to himself if he should say what he wanted to say. "Nobody blames you." Daryl stared at him. "You got her the cigarettes, didn't you?" Daryl felt as if he'd been punched in the chest. "She was sick in bed. Couldn't go nowhere. Dad don't share his and I didn't buy her any cause she couldn't breathe as it was. You're the only one who could've gotten 'em for her." The tears came instantly and Daryl turned his back to his brother, as if he could hide the loud sobs that came out of him. Merle grabbed his shoulders and squeezed tightly. "No one knew she was gonna pass out like that. She was drinking, alright? You tried to make her feel better and something fucked up happened. It just happened."
"If I didn't get them-"
"She'd have gotten them somehow, and it woulda happened anyway. You gonna sit in the woods for the rest of your life, making this about you?" He roughly turned Daryl to face him. "This ain't about you, asshole. She's gone and no amount of crying is gonna bring her back. Nothing gets undone with crying." Daryl looked away again. "And if you're worried about that little whore at the funeral-" Daryl shook his head.
"She's not a whore-"
"She's a dumb fucking bitch is what she is, and I see you eye fucking her like she has glittery rainbows coming from every hole in her body and it makes me sick. Girls like that don't go for guys like us, Daryl. You can treat her nicer than any guy's ever treated her, and in the end she's gonna run right back to rich pieces of shit like Dave because she's a fucking whore, and that's what whores go for. Money and pretty cars. You ain't giving her that, so she don't want you. She'll be nice and hold your hand, but someone's gotta fucking die for her to get that close to you."
"Okay." Merle frowned.
"Okay? Okay like you get it or okay as in shut the fuck up?"
"Shut the fuck up." Merle seemed taken aback. "It's done. You said it. I don't want to talk about it anymore." Merle stared down at him and eventually nodded.
"You wanna go home?" Daryl nodded and Merle did the same. He squeezed Daryl's shoulder one more time before walking away, knowing his little brother would follow as he always did.