"You idiot!" Merle yelled as he ran down the stairs to pick up what Daryl dropped. I'd hidden behind the doorframe, worried he'd start yelling at me too. "God'damnit there are shells everywhere! Hey! Come pick them up!" There was a silence, and then I heard Daryl heavily walking down the stairs. He bent down to pick up the bullets that had fallen out of the box when he dropped it, and Merle slapped him on the back of the head and continued upstairs.
"Psst," I whispered, not really thinking. "Daryl."
He turned to look at me, and almost jumped out of his skin.
"You're still alive?" he asked, gobsmacked. I nodded, hiding myself behind my hair.
"Just," I said. "Thankyou for the other day. I appreciate that."
"Don't mention it," he said. I thought he meant it kindly, but then I remember how Merle had treated him. Yeah, it was best not to mention it. "You found anything in here?"
"Food," I said, though I wish I'd lied. "Tin of beans. Beats dog food though."
He sighed. "You better get out'ta here. If Merle sees you, he'll just yell again."
"But why? What have I even done for him to be angry at me?"
"Nu'tin. He's just not good with people. Doesn't wanna help unless he gets helped, y'know?"
I knew. And I hated people like that.
"I take it he's only nice to you because you're his brother, right?" I asked. Daryl looked at me, hurt. "Well, he treats you like shit." I admitted. He sighed, scooped the bullets from the floor into the box and stood up.
"Get out of here." he said coldly, walking away.