I don't think I could have gotten dressed quicker.

Merle's words rang in my head like a church bell. When the older, more aggravating Dixon brother had appeared at my door the last thing I wanted to do was to let him into my apartment. However, once he told me Daryl was at the hospital, I practically dragged him inside. "What happened?" I pleaded, my stomach twisting and churning as I felt the bile rise into my throat. Daryl had just been there, he'd just been asleep with me on the couch. We'd just had passionate sex on said couch. A part of me was in denial that something had actually happened, that Merle was trying to pull a fast one on me. I dropped him into my arm chair and narrowed my eyes at him, forgetting that I was still in my bathrobe.

"Merle Dixon if you're screwin' with me..." I warned, my voice on the cusp of breaking. The thought of Daryl laying in some hospital bed hurt me more than I thought it would. "...if I find out that this is some cheap trick I swear I'll..."

"You think I'd fuck around 'bout my brother bein' in some hospital?!" Merle growled loudly, the alcohol incredibly apparent on his breath. His eyes were narrowed and staring into mine as if he were trying to break me down. He was trying to size me up and threaten me. Too bad for him that it didn't work out that way. "If ya think that, yer dumber than I thought."

"I don't even have a car, Merle" I retorted as I bounded across the apartment to my room, cracking my door just enough that he couldn't see me, but he could still hear my voice. "What are we gonna do? Put you on the handlebars of my bicycle?"

"We'll drive Daryl's truck. Got the keys right here."

The drive to the hospital where they took Daryl was about fifteen minutes long, which was about fourteen too many for me. Merle had always rubbed me the wrong way. Since day one he was rude, crude, and just over all mean. That, combined with the very few things Daryl had told me about his daring brother, didn't add up to a positive opinion of the older Dixon. The second we got in the cab, the truck filled with the stench of booze, sex, drugs, and redneck. It was nearly impossible for me to believe that this man was related to Daryl. Also, he thought he was sly by leaning up on the door to face me so he could stare at me, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Every passing glance made me more sick than the one preceding it.

"Keep your eyes inside your skull, Dixon" I spat, praying to God that the time would pass faster. After five minutes in the car, I was ashamed to say that hoping to leave the car had become more of an active priority than rushing to see Daryl. His eyes on me were utterly repulsive, but my staring at the road helped control my impending fury. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that starin' was impolite?"

A rough, ragged laugh replied to my question, before he started coughing harshly. "It's a compliment from where 'm from, sugartits" he groaned as he scratched his chest sharply. His dingy white wifebeater was covered in sweat and liquor, which only contributed to the smell in the cab. "I can see why he'd wanna tap tha' ."

My cheeks flushed a deep crimson and I could feel it spreading throughout my body. I wasn't used to people commenting on my personal affairs so openly, but I should had expected it from Merle. He wasn't exactly known for his etiquette. I could still feel his eyes roaming over me and I physically squirmed in my seat. He looked at me like a piece of meat in a shop window. His eyes were the only thing that resembled Daryl in any way, but Merle's lacked Daryl's familiar brightness. "Clearly you never learned 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all' either" I snapped as I wrung my hands on the steering wheel. The next six minutes were literally the longest six minutes of my life.

I parked the truck in the closest available spot and Merle and I ran to the emergency room doors. Daryl was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was already being seen in the back. Merle started looking around, so I grabbed him and pulled him back to me. "We have to go to the desk and get badges" I said quietly, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. "Or else they won't let us back there to see Daryl. Come on." I dragged him to the Main Desk and we waited for a few minutes before the only person at the desk was ready to see us.

"Welcome to the Mercy West Emergency Room" the too-peppy-for-midnight attendant greeted. "Who are you here to see?"

"Daryl Dixon" I reported, my arm now wrapped around Merle's to keep him by my side. He reminded me of an anxious child with his inability to sit still, wanting to go off look for daryl at every possible moment. His drunkenness was incredibly difficult to hide.

"And how are you related to the patient? We can only admit immediate family members and I'll need your drivers licenses."

My heart sank. I'd have to wait out in the waiting room for Daryl and there was no telling how long that would be. Plus, how would Merle get to his room? If I let him go, the security would nab him in a heartbeat. I started going through any possible idea that could get me back there but I kept coming up short. Luckily for me, Merle had a surprisingly decent idea.

"Well sweetheart," he drawled, his voice much more calm than I expected it to be. "What about his girl here? I can't just leave her out here to worry 'bout 'im."

"Ah, your Mr. Dixon's girlfriend? I can permit that." My lungs finally released the breath they'd been holding since we first approached the desk.

My cheeks flushed again as the attendant took both our licenses, looked them over, scanned them, and then printed us two badges granting us admission into the ER private rooms. As we thanked the woman profusely, and before Merle could drunkenly hit on her anymore, we followed and nurse back into the rooms until she led us to a specific room. She soon left us there alone at the door with both of us unsure of what to expect on the other side. Still holding onto Merle, I knocked on the door lightly and let us inside quickly setting our eyes on Daryl.

He looked like he'd gotten his backside handed to him in a fight. He was torn up everywhere with various strips of stitches marking up his body. There were countless bruises spread over his tanned skin and there was an IV Drip attached to the crook of his arm. There was a splint on his wrist to hold it in place. From what I could see from the door, it looked like he'd broken it. They were probably waiting to put a cast on it until the orthopedist on call arrived. I didn't realize he was awake until Merle dropped himself into a nearby chair causing Daryl's eyes to shoot open.

"Ya look like shit, baby brother" Merle scoffed, pulling a flask out of the breast pocket of his leather vest. Daryl grumbled something inaudibly in response and I took advantage of the moment where he was distracted to look over his wrist. One of the classes I was taking that semester covered breaks, fractures and all the like and I was curious too see if I could determine one up close.

"Yeah well at least 'm prettier, ya ugly bastard" Daryl croaked as he turned his head, following me as I moved to inspect his wrist. "And what do you think yer doin', girl?" he growled protectively as he tried to move his arm back but physically couldn't without experiencing pain.

"Jus' lookin' "I replied innocently, smiling up at him as I took a closer look at his wrist. Judging by the bruising and coloration, I was able to make an intelligent guess. "I'm guessing Scaphoid fracture. Am I right?"

Daryl was smiling with I looked up at him, like he was amazed by something. "Someone's a nerd" he said with a pained laugh, clutching his ribs with his other hand. "They're gonna put a cast on it. Say it'll be fine in'a few weeks. Can't work though."

Merle choked at the revelation. "That means I'll hafta get'a job!" he replied, visibly concerned about the fact he'd actually have to hold down one job for longer than a couple weeks. I couldn't contain the entire giggle that built up, but I contained enough of it to only receive a stare from the more belligerent brother.

"Damn right, you lazy sonofa-"

Before he could finish his less-than-friendly answer, the orthopedist knocked on the door and allowed herself in, introducing herself as Dr. Peletier. She quickly moved over to Daryl's side and looked his arm over, causing him to wince in pain.

"You know, Mr. Dixon, you could still take the pain meds. It isn't too late" She told him, keeping her gaze on his wrist and arm as she tried to move it. When I looked up at the IV Drip it was for a liquid form of a drug similar to extra strength Tylenol. I couldn't understand at first why he'd forgone the medication but then it hit me. Daryl and I made eye contact long enough for him to look at Merle and back, confirming my new theory. All Daryl did was reject her offer once more as she explained what he could and could not do with the cast. She was giving him a waterproof cast so he'd be able to shower, but he'd have to wait before going back to work as he'd originally been told.

After 'Carol' finished his cast, she took Merle to the front desk in order to figure out a way to pay for all the treatment Daryl had received. Leaving us alone, I got up and moved to his bedside, taking his non-plastered hand in mine. "So Daredevil" I teased, making him chuckle in the process. I noticed my thumb automatically stroked the top of his hand as I spoke to him. "Wanna tell me how you went from my couch to the hospital?"

He explained having to go help his boss, and being late to start. Apparently when he'd been let out, there was construction happening on the street that he usually used to get home. He took a side road and there was a drunk driver trying to get home with his date. The drunk hit him which bucked him from the bike, causing him to fly across the road and rolling, breaking his wrist on the first roll.

"I was tryin' to get home fast so I could stop by like I said" he admitted, the words appearing to cause just as much pain as when the doctor was examining his wrist. While my heart broke at the fact that I was a reason behind his accident, it warmed me a bit to hear that he'd cared enough to live up to some silly post-coital letter. I dropped my head and stared at out hands only for him to break apart from me and lift my head up to meet his gaze. "Ain't your fault, Beth" he assured softly, as if he could read my mind. "It's some drunk's fault, and mine fer speedin'."

I shook my head adamantly. "Not yours either, Dixon" I responded as I reached out and gently cupped his jaw in his hand. One of his many rows of stitches brushed against my fingertips and I tried to keep my hand at a safe pressure on his broken frame. Regardless of how much pain he must have been in, his eyes had a familiar shine to them and his lips turned up at the corners as grinned slyly.

Before I could ask him why he was smiling, Daryl's free hand clutched onto my neck and his fingers wove into my hair. With a playful grin playing on his lips, he pulled me in and kissed me hard. We didn't even notice that Merle had walked in a second after Daryl's lips touched mine.