The room was dimly lit and the table that had been in the center of the room was now occupied by the Redneck Saint. The upper half of his body rested upon its surface while his legs dangled over the edge, his feet dragging the floor. He was still; so still that he appeared to be lifeless. He looked like a bloodied corpse that would be left to rot in this dying world. And that was just fine. Daryl didn't care. His eyes were heavy and he felt completely and utterly tired; useless.
It had been a long time since he had had his ass handed to him like this before. A lot of the scars on his body had been made by his father when he was younger, now he had the Governor's handy-work to compliment his.
Daryl's head rested flat against the hard surface of the table, his blood pooled out around his face. His entire body had grown numb to the pain as his head began to drift in and out of consciousness. His eyes stirred behind closed lids as the sound of that god awful metal door opening creaked through the air. The Governor was coming back for more, he thought, and he was prepared. He was almost certain that this time he really would be embraced by the hands of Death.
The sounds of footsteps could faintly be heard upon the cement floor as it grew gradually closer toward him; almost hestantly. It wasn't until they stopped and there was a drawn out silence before Daryl bothered to open his one good eye. His vision was a little foggy at first as his eye adjusted to the lighting and came across a blurred figure. His brows pulled together as he squinted. After a few moments his eye came into focus and the familiar face of his brother was staring down at him. He looked a mixture of rage with a hint of concern.
A brief silence (that felt like forever) passed before suddenly a weak, hoarse and humorless laugh began to come from the Redneck. His head fell back on the table as he coughed, blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth as he did so. It was just like it was back in those damned woods. Another near-death-experience and he was seeing his brother again. He had gone through so much shit that for him to be hallucinating his brother again was amusing to the Hunter in a twisted way. "Merle..." The corner of his lips struggled to curl upward in a psychotic smirk, revealing his bloodied teeth. His eye closed again as he choked once more on his blood. His head rolled to the side and away from him. "Come t' bust my balls 'bout how much a pussy I am, again?" He asked breathlessly, that same sarcasm still present in his tone.
Of course Merle was hesitant. He needed to take into account that, if the Governor had gone this far with him, his brother might have already been lost and a monster could have replaced him. He couldn't risk going that far. Not until he knew his brother was still in there somewhere.
But just as he'd leaned in, hearing a minimal amount of breath coming from his baby brother's lungs, he saw his eyes open just a sliver. And then a small laugh ensued. Apparently seeing him was humorous? Probably delusional, Merle thought to himself as his lips curled downward in a tight frown. He scoffed at Daryl's comment as he turned away from him to round the table.
"This is a right mess yah got yourself into, baby brother." He commented disapprovingly. "All for what? A group that ain't even huntin' for yah, that's what." He smirked just then, shaking his head at his own brother's massive stupidity. "All for a wee li'l Irish who ain't even comin' to your rescue? That ain't bein' a pussy, brother, that's bein' stupid, I tell ya."
"Shuddup." Daryl grumbled as he coughed again. The last thing he needed was this bullshit. "I ain't got time ta talk t' a ghost." He spoke hoarsely.
"Ghost?" Merle sounded amused at first but then his concern deepened. Perhaps the Governor had gone too far with his torture and had given Daryl some brain damage. "I'm flesh n' blood." He said, drawing out the last word.
This sent chills down Daryl's spine. Flesh and blood. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he remembered his last hallucination had ended with a walker chewing on his boot when he had thought it was Merle. Daryl's eyes opened suddenly to look at his brother, who was now moving to hover over him, his face an emotionless mask.
"I'm gonna get ya outta here, lil brother. We'll move along, just the two'a us. I'll turn you into a man again, you can count on that. No more'a this Brady Bunch bullshit." Merle hissed, his eyes narrowing as they pierced into Daryl's. He leaned in closer as his hand moved to extend toward Daryl.
Merle's mouth opened and Daryl stiffened, preparing himself for the bite. But instead he felt the ties around his wrist being worked at as Merle spoke. "You'n me, just like it was before that Rick." He spat the name like it was venom. "They gone'n made ya soft." Merle stated distastefully as he managed to untie Daryl's left wrist. "N' look what the cost was."
Realization slowly started to come to the Redneck as he laid on the table. His eyes snapped open and shifted to look into the face of his older brother. He felt the ties around his right wrist come undone and watched as Merle pulled back to stare sternly at him. Daryl's hand immediately lifted to reach for his brother's shoulder, where to his amazement was actually there to grasp. His fingers curled to give Merle's shoulder a squeeze as a heavy breath exited his lungs. Merle was here. Merle was real!
Merle watched his brother and shook his head shamefully at him. "I ought ta beat yah ass for bein' such'a coward." He sounded pissed as he reached his left hand up to clasp around Daryl's wrist. Merle forced it away before giving a sharp tug to force his brother toward him. Daryl sat upright and slumped over, had it not been for Merle stopping him he would have fell to the ground. And suddenly Daryl's head began to swirl and the lights started to fade again. "C'mon now! Enough'a this pussy shit! It's time t' put on yah big-boy britches and man up!" He slapped his hand against Daryl's face, but received no reaction. "We ain't got time for yah pansy ass to be blackin' out now!" Merle barked, but it was futile, Daryl had blacked out and had went slack in his brother's hold.