All he came home to was a hacking cough coming form the bedroom and an apology note and spare key on the cluttered table. It explained about the racial slurs and how the final line was crossed with a reach for her breast and obscene oral gestures. When Daryl gathered himself enough to go in and ask what had happened he got caught in the side with the water glass that flew across the room and a garbled, "The bitch overreacted." He wasn't sure if he preferred him drunk or dying, either way his father was an asshole.
"Can't be grabbing at every nurse I get in here. How can I go to work if you chase 'em all off?"
"Don't talk to your old man like that, Daryl." Every few words are punctuated with him trying not to cough. "Might be dyin' but that don't mean you can disrespect me." He falls into a coughing fit and can barely raise his hand to wipe the spatter of blood from his lip. "Ungrateful bastard."
As he stood in the kitchen he couldn't find the energy to curse his brother for getting caught and leaving him to take care of their father, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad for that cancer ridden man laying in the bed. He pressed his fingers to the spot on his side and let the dull pain keep the image of her blond hair out of his head for a minute while he put dishes in the sink and got out the night's pills. He had been taking care of his father when Merle wasn't around for most of his life, why should it be any different now? Instead of buying him whiskey and cigarettes and praying he was being quiet enough to fly under the radar of his father's anger, Daryl was pumping him full of morphine and getting the same lectures he always had. He was just grateful that when he left the bedroom the old man couldn't follow him out.
Daryl sighed, he knew he wouldn't be able to practice with her on Fridays anymore, whether or not she still wanted to. That was the third nurse to walk out. He had gotten his father settled for the night and given him a dose of the pain meds the doctor had prescribed for him. A few months ago getting him to swallow pills felt like he was drugging the man instead of helping him, but he had been sleeping more and more lately anyway. As he turned to close the door Daryl knew his ribs were going to have a decent bruise from where the glass had hit him.
The phone rang.
He picked up on the third ring. "An inmate trying to contact you. Would you like to accept the call?" He said yes and waited for the line to click over.
"Little brother." The greeting is gruff and dragged out. "How's life on the outside?"
Daryl moved the pillow and sheet from his makeshift bed on the couch, he sighed as he flopped down onto the old piece of furniture, "Merle."
"Ain't gonna ask how I'm holding up? If my ass is still tight as a schoolgirl's?"
"You been there enough times to know about holdin' on to your soap." Daryl chewed on his thumbnail, talking to Merle was like being dragged back in time fifteen years. The couch, the apartment…even his skin felt wrong, out of place as soon as he called him that, little brother.
Merle lets out a snort through the static connection. "Gettin' your dick wet with that new piece of ass you got? Ain't gonna lie, the old man says your floatin' around in some puppy dog love cloud."
"The fuck you talkin' about?" Daryl could feel his chest tighten.
"I talked to him earlier, nurse lady was there. Told me about what happened with one of those broads, how you were out chasing some tail instead of takin' care of him. Didn't sound right if you ask me."
"Never asked you how it sounded."
"Didn't hafta. Said you got people in and outta there all day, you're never around. That true?"
Daryl could feel that putrid bubble of guilt rise up in chest.
"Little brother, you gotta tell me. You haven't been doin' right by him have you? Lettin' strangers do the dirty work while you're out living the high life? Lettin' his check pay the rent?"
"It ain't like that, Merle!" His voice didn't come out as strong as he wanted it to, it's almost more of a whine than the growl he'd intended it to be.
"He raised you. Best not forget that."
Daryl huffed out a breath, "Whatta bang up job he did."
"Just cause he never brought you to Disney Land don't mean he ain't your daddy." Merle didn't wait for an answer. "He's our daddy and you're supposed to be takin' care of him. I'd be doin' it if I was there."
"You've never been here. Don't go makin' it out like you always took care of everything. I'm doing my best tryin' to figure all this shit out on my own."
"All I'm saying is you gotta step up your game, little brother. Take care of family. Your best gotta be better."
The phone beeped and said they had a minute left. Daryl could feel his body vibrating in a twisted mess of embarrassment, guilt, and anger.
"Ain't my fault he's sick."
"No, but it still ain't right to leave him alone with a bunch of strangers traipsing around. You gotta be there, Daryl. No pussyin' out from this one."
He sighed again, "I know I'm tryin'. It ain't easy though… being around him all damn d…"
The phone clicked off and Daryl was left with a dial tone to vent to.
He wanted to hit something, but settled for slamming the phone into it's cradle. He looked around, the apartment was a mess and he could hear the old man rattling in the back bedroom. Why had he ever thought he could get out of this? What had he planned on doing, keeping all of this from her? Bringing her into it? Hiding away in her perfect little apartment until everything was quiet?
"Fuck."
The only thing he had enough energy to do was collapse down onto his shitty couch in his shitty makeshift bedroom. The only thing he wanted to do was call her up and let her pull him away from his mess of a life. He didn't think about it for too long, he was too mad at himself to indulge in wanting her. For reacting the way he did to that kid asking her out, for not saying goodbye or explaining why he left, for coming home and being nothing but a gofer for his miserable old man who never once had a good thing to say. He was always shit at saying no to that bastard, even after everything he'd been through with him. Even laying in bed hacking up his own two lungs Will Dixon's got Daryl on a tight leash. He's been left starving at the end of that chain for so long that he can't imagine having anything else.