I cried like a baby writing this. I don't know why, but it really got me. I hope it makes you, as emotional as it made me. lol

I've been sleepless at night
'Cause I don't know how I feel
I've been waiting on you
Just to say something real

There's a light on the road
And I think you know
Morning has come
And I have to go

I don't know why, I don't know why
We need to break so hard
I don't know why we break so hard

But if we're strong enough
To let it in
We're strong enough
To let it go

Let it all go by Birdy and Rhodes

Chapter 17 - The Black Sheep

Fear is part of their everyday life now. Every waking moment, every day, fear hovers.

But Carol has been scared the last few days, more than the usual. Rick isn't himself anymore, no longer capable of protecting them. She knows things hasn't been well with him for a while now. Since the night with Shane. Since the night he yelled, 'this is not democracy anymore.' It's been downhill from there.

When the governor attacked, it was like a joke to him, his men laughing.

She blinked and Axel was dead. And she used him, his body as shield.

But when the familiar RV bared through the broken fence, she watched in slow motion, adrenaline pumping through her. It was effortless, how the doctor and the men retook the prison back. And in the end, as Carol crawled out of her cover, drenched in Axel's blood, she watched again, and it reminded her of one of those action movies her accursed husband used to like. The heroine in the middle, with the Dixon brothers on one side, and the soldiers on the other, her hair blowing behind her like a cloak.

Carol also knows, the doctor held these men. One way or another, she is the glue that keeps them together.

Alice is aware of her words and choose them carefully. Confidence exudes her as she paced around the common area of the prison, commanding the room, only allowing the group to see what she wanted them to see. And for a man who had yelled 'this is not democracy anymore,' Rick had willingly given her the lead, and she achieved that in nothing but kind words. But perhaps, Rick can see what Carol sees as well.

He is aware the doctor and her men put together, have the potential to be unstoppable.

Alice is the brain, Charles is the executer, and Jamie is the muscle. Carol hopes and believes the three can defeat the governor.

But even with all that, there is one thing that has her confused. Maybe she misunderstood something.

It is the decision to keep Merle.

Alice hasn't said it out loud, but based on all the information Carol had gathered, she suspect Merle is the one that never gave her letter to Daryl. The one that kept them apart. That is the only conclusion she can think of, after all, there was bitterness to how the doctor had said Merle's name, when rick first mentioned it after he left Daryl. If so, then, why? Why would the doctor defend him so fiercely? When she can't convince Rick to allow him to join the group, she had given him a place among her team.

But why?

Alice isn't weak. She is the new leader now, and this could have been her opportunity for revenge. She could have informed Daryl his brother's betrayal, put that nail in Merle's coffin, exorcise him from the group permanently. Though briefly, Carol remembers what Merle's like from the Atlanta camp, and not one bit of her has sympathy for him. It's not like he doesn't deserve it. Carol is aware of all the hang ups between the Dixon brothers, and this could have been the straw that broke the camel's back.

So, with that thought, Carol hovers in the common area, waiting and watching as the doctor makes her round, and eventually, she sees her walking into her personal cell. She knows this can wait, but Carol doesn't think she will be able to sleep tonight. Although, she has taken a shower, she can still smell Axel's blood, feel the warmth of it on her skin.

Perhaps, a distraction is what she needs, and with that in mind, she follows right after the Doctor. She taps on the metal bar to get Alice's attention, and the doctor smiles looking up from the medical bag she is digging in. Carol can see she looks tired, not just physically, but emotionally too. But Carol wants answers, especially on something as big as this, something that could potentially have a massive collateral impact on Daryl…

Her loyalty will always be Daryl.

Although it feels like you are duct taped and glued, by some miracle, you held it all together.

Not everyone is happy with the choices you made, especially some of the Greene family members. Glenn completely avoids you, even when you try to check his face, the wound he had received, he backs away from you. But you know you have a plan for that as well, eventually, they will all fold. And you are ready. It's only a matter of time.

Now you must stand with your decision, so they know where your loyalty lies. You are digging through your medical bag, checking for all the medication you think you might need. After all, you must play doctor and check on Merle too… the game never stops until you win.

There is a knock on your cell gate, and you see Carol. She hesitates and fidgets with the sleeves of her shirt. You motion her with your head, directing her toward the bed, and she gently sits on your mattress. You know she had gone through something traumatic earlier, she had use Axel's body, one of the prisoners you briefly interacted with, as a shield to protect herself from the raining bullets. Though she looks calm now, that had to have shaken her.

"Go ahead, say what's on your mind." You tell her softly, and you let out a laugh when she looks at you guiltily.

"I guess I made it obvious hah," she laughs as well, "I just… I…I know this could probably wait, but I really wanted to know why you did it, why did you let him stay?" Carol finally breaches the subject, her voice soft.

"What do you mean?" You know where she is heading, and you keep your eyes to your medical bag.

"It was him, wasn't it, Merle… the one who kept your letter, the one meant for Daryl?" You let out a sigh, placing your medical bag to the ground before you sit next to her.

"Yeah, it was him." You remember that night, the sympathetic way he looked at you as he placed the letter in his chest pocket. You had step right into him and given him a hug. He had stiffened in your arms; the same way Daryl does when you catch him unexpectedly with your physical affections. "I was so naïve back then. He promised and I trusted him."

"Then, why…Why give him grace after everything he did? Are you not angry?" Her voice is hushed, a conversation just between the two of you, and she reaches for your hand, cradling it in her lap.

"Of course, I'm angry, Carol. I'm beyond angry." Your voice finally cracks. This is as far as you can hold it. All the emotion from the day catches up to you. "I'm in pain." You confess and with that so does your tears.

"Then why let him stay? Having him here will be a constant reminder. You should have just left him there." You can see the pinch on Carol's brows, she is angry for you.

"Because the decisions I make will hurt the one person I want to protect." You look down and you can feel the tears running down your nose. You wipe it angrily. "I had to put Daryl before me. So, I chose the one that gives him his brother back." You can't take that from him. Knowing what you know about the brothers. The love Daryl shares with his brother, bound by trauma and pain, the only person that's been consistent in his life. How could you take that from him… you can't…

"What about you? What about your feelings? Who validates that?" She holds your hand tighter.

"What do you want me to do, Carol? Yes, I could have been vengeful, rageful, and separated them, and then what? I'm leaving in a few months, and none of these choices gives me Daryl. And as sure as hell doesn't give me 15 years back. But if I can do this for him, then my feelings are insignificant." Daryl has been hurt by you, directly or indirectly. You will put things right; you will do right by him.

"You know Merle is bad for Daryl." She is right, their relationship always been toxic. But you would be a hypocrite to blame Merle. He had his own trauma and pain, perhaps even worse than what Daryl carries. But he had tried.

You remember Daryl telling you, when he was a kid, Merle would protect him from his father. He would take beatings meant for him, and he knows just what to say to make sure his father's attention stays on him instead on Daryl. That's how he learned how to press people's buttons, how he cultivated his thick skin. And unlike Daryl, Merle didn't have an older brother, no one to protect him. He had ten years of beatings before Daryl is even born. He had to toughen up quick, and the unparalleled survival instinct he has, was built from that.

And when Merle turned 16, he had a growth spurt, and finally had the physical ability to fight back. In that same year, he knocked his father, Will Dixon, unconscious. It didn't stop there; they constantly went at each other. Two years later, when merle turned 18, he joined the military, leaving 8-year-old Daryl at the hands of his father.

"Yeah, I know. But Daryl has blossomed here, he is doing so well, coming into his own man. And hopefully, Merle can change too." He is built for this, has the skills and the potential for this new world to fit him. "Even if he doesn't change, death is so near us now, our ticket could be punched any minute, it could be any of us' is last day. If so, I want Daryl to have his brother by his side," It's always been the two of them against the world anyways.

"So that's it. Your feelings don't matter, you're just going to forgive?" Carol lets out a deep sigh, like she's been holding it all day. She shakes her head, and you can see sadness in her eyes.

"There is one thing I've learned through all this, since I met Daryl." You pull your hand from her, wiping your face. When you stand, she looks up at you. "Love is not a feeling, Carol. That stuff is just for books and movies. Real love is what you do, in spite of your feelings. Real love is fighting for the good of someone else, even if they never get to see the sacrifice or forgiveness it takes to love them, to give love to them."

You step outside of the prison to catch your breath, sitting on the steps that leads to the field. Your conversation with Carol brought up memories… memories of the night Daryl fully opened himself to you, shared his scar and pain, it was also the night you realized you loved him. It was so easy for you, to love him.

You let out a sigh, getting up. No time like the presence to face your demon. With your medical bag in hand, you head towards Merle's cell.

He looks surprised to see you, laying on his bed, his intact hand behind his head. He gets up into a seated position when he sees you walk in. You're sure he can tell you've been crying by how red your eyes must be, and you are surprised when you don't receive any snarky comment. You pull your stethoscope to your ear, and step close to him to conduct a general checkup. The room is silence when you sit on the edge of his bed, putting your bag by your feet.

"Let me see your hand," you ask, reaching out for the one with the prosthetic arm. You look at the ingenuity of all the locking mechanism, and the knife attached to it. You can't imagine what it must be like to live with a knife constantly attached to where once your hand used to be. The kind of adjustment it must take.

The room is so quiet, you can hear a pin drop. He looks at you suspiciously as you unclip all the strap tying it to his forearm. When you pull the metal Can like prosthetic off his hand, you are surprised by how inflamed the skin is underneath. Where the metal edge meets his forearm, you can see the blisters that once had been there, now only left rough callus skin. You suppose this must be like wearing shoes fully made of metal. One of the requirements for prosthetics is to have gel liners, inserts to protect the skin from chafing, but Merle had none. This had to have been very painful to adjust, for the skin to build callus over time, and you are sure it's probably still painful.

You pull your bag open and pull the Salicylates cream. It's mostly used for Arthritis, but it will work fine for this as well.

He is warily of you, and you can feel his eyes look up at you seldomly, his face unreadable. You pull your glove on before you apply a hefty amount of the cream on his stump and gently massage it into his skin. You let out a deep sigh and prepare yourself.

You take solace knowing, he too, doesn't want to face you. After all, the Dixons are allergic to emotional conversation.

"What did you do with my letter?" You whisper, as your hands press deeper into his. There is a moment of silence before he replies.

"I burnt it." He tells you in his usual raspy voice. Your hands pauses and you choke on that thought. For years you've thought about that letter, and imagined it in Daryl's hands, pictured him disregarding your plea and confession of your love.

"You promised, you said you would look out for him." That's what he had told you that night, he had said he only want what's best for his brother.

"And I did." His voice remains the same.

"Oh, really?" An angry laugh escapes your throat, "by burning my letter." Your eyes fill with tears.

"Don't make me out to be the villain of your story, or did you forget who had a gun to his head." You flinch at his words. "Now, now, let's not play sanctimonious. Your old man would've torn through that boy, before you could even blink." You drop his hand and shift back from him. You remember the fury and helplessness even now.

"My father… my father was my battle! And Daryl was my future." Your father was so magnitude to you back then, almost inhuman. You guess, all little girls think that way about their fathers. Even though he was named David, he was Goliath to you.

"Your father was a dangerous man, and you was just a kid. You ain't know what men like your father are capable of. Do you know why they called him David the Conqueror," at the surprise look on your face, he smirks. "Yeaaa, I know about that name. Pfft, everyone in prison knows about that name." He leans closer and you lean back.

"It's because he ain't never cared about the lives he destroyed. Do you know how many kids were serving life sentences over something so miner, because it looked good for his records? Tough on crime and all that bullshit." His voice is accusatory, and he shakes his head. "Daryl's future would have been a cage like this, if he doesn't kill him before that." He motions to his surroundings.

It took you a long time to understand how your father was the villain to many people's story. You never saw the perpetual darkness your father carried inside of him. Perhaps that was because he molded you after his image, and you are his reflection. You ran the moment you were free, the moment you were old enough to realize, but his roots were so deep in you, his control too vast. You still think of him every day, feel that darkness you inherited. You can still hear him whispering to you, guiding you… especially nowadays, when the world crumbles around you, his control rebuilds, his voice echoes louder.

"I had a plan! I was ready!" By forging you in his image, he had given you all the ammunition to fight back. You are just as clever as your father.

"It wouldn't have mattered." Merle sighs.

"It does… it did. I loved Daryl, and you took that away from me… from him." Your vision blurs, and the tears finally start to fall. "It wasn't your choice to make."

"I had too. That boy ain't seeing straight with you there. If you asked him to jump off a cliff, he would have. Your father would have NEVER let you be with him." He emphasizes the never, as if you didn't know. He brings his intact hand to his forehead and rubs it frustratedly. "I knew you cared, I knew you meant well, but you didn't belong with men like us. Some redneck nobodies with daddy issues." He looks up at you from under his hand.

"He's never been a nobody. Fuck, he was everything to me." You lean beck on the bed, looking at him up and down. "But I think I'm starting to realize this was never about Daryl and I, was it? This was about you letting him go, wasn't it? Leaving you behind. He had a real chance with me, and you couldn't handle being alone." He huffs at you, with a roll of his eyes.

"Don't kid yourself. Talk all you like, but you ain't had no real power to protect that boy. No planning that would have spared him. No matter where you've went, your father would have followed you, his golden goose."

"I think it's you who kids himself. Misery loves company, right? You hated who you were, without Daryl, you had no one to acknowledge your miserable existence, and you couldn't handle that darkness without him." Your voice is strained, and there is a bite to it, as your tears leak down your cheeks.

"One way or another your father would have gotten his blood. I was on probation, if ain't Daryl, then it would have been me. Someone ought to be the sacrificial lamb." You get up from your seat, and you can't help the wretched laugh that escapes your throat.

"Finally, the truth. You were scared for yourself, hah. I guess Merle will always looks out for Merle first, right?" you shake your head at him, "it's so sad because if the role was reversed, he would have put his neck on the chopping block for you in a heartbeat."

"You don't get to fuckin say that shit to me. You don't know the mount of shitload I took for that boy." You are again reminded of the relationship between the two brothers. You wipe your eyes.

"I guess it doesn't really matter anymore, what I say, or what you say. All that pain and tears, none of it means anything anymore. In the end, it was you, not my father that took 15 years from us. And I hope you can live with your choices you made, for all the pain you caused the person who's been on your corner, to the boy that worshiped the ground you walked on… you had left him over and over again when he needed you."

"I was fucked up, but I did my best." He whispers.

"Bullshit. You knew Daryl was not built like you, and yet, you never noticed his pain. To you, he had it easy, right? Pain made you cultivate your thick skin, but it wasn't like that for him. Unlike your father, the scars you left on him may not be visible, but know it's there, just skin deep." You knew Merle's soft spots, and you want him to hurt as much as you do, so you dig deeper.

"How could you have been so cruel? You made him think I left him. I abandoned him like everyone else he loved. But not you though, right? Big brother Merle is the only one who would never leave him, the only one who loves him. What a fuckin joke." You bend down and pick up your medical bag before you stand in front of him. "You, who abandoned him, left him at the mercy of your father, knowing what he was capable of."

"I didn't think…" he doesn't finish his thoughts; he looks away from you.

"Of course, you don't think, you never do." You huff in anger. "You know Daryl told me everything about you, what you meant to him. That's why I gave you the letter that day, why I trusted you with my chance of happiness. All because I thought you loved him." You turn to leave but turn back for one final thought.

"Just so you know, I was ready to trade my life for him, if it meant I could have kept him." But that doesn't matter anymore too.

You step out of Merle's cell and let out a deep sigh. A release you felt like you have been holding for 15 years. There, you stood for a moment and ground yourself. It's all in the past now. You can't go back; you can't turn back time, and none of it matters anymore. You must learn to move pass it.

With that thought reaffirmed, you turn to leave, but you only take two steps before you freeze mid stride. The air leaves your lungs in shock, and your heart drops to your gut. Oh god…

In the cell next door, you see Daryl and Carol sitting on the ground of the unoccupied room. He looks up at you with red eyes, and Carol is holding his hand in her lap, the same way she had done yours earlier. You know she had brought him here. She doesn't think you know, but you have noticed her following you around, keeping her eyes on you. When you look at her, she gives you a nod of affirmation, and her eyes are wet as well. You know they've been eavesdropping, listening to your conversation with Merle.

Move, you tell yourself, but your legs are cemented to the ground, your eyes drawing to Daryl again. MOVE! Somehow your legs cooperate.

You feel like running, but you have nowhere to go.

It's late, perhaps sometime around midnight, you aren't sure anymore. You sit on the observation deck of the west gate guard tower; you have volunteered to take the late-night shift. It is dark, but the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, your only source of light. The November air is cool, and you can barely see the steam coming from your mouth. It has been the most emotionally exhausting day for you.

God, you were so naïve, so innocent back then. You thought you knew how the world worked, but really, you did not.

Your father, Merle… you had a lot going against you then, and you didn't even realize it until it was too late. Now you sit here alone and think about it, you can admit, perhaps, you are not sure if your plan to keep Daryl would have worked. Your father was ruthless and had immense power in his city. Because of your lack of maturity, you aren't sure if you were capable of making the moves necessary to defeat him.

You knew even back then, the mob boss like mentality your father had, the way he reigned over the city. Police chiefs, sheriffs', Mayors, Judges, even the fuckin Governor was under his string, the dirt he had on them all… some orchestrated by himself. After all, District attorneys, who prosecute the bulk of criminal cases in the United States, answer to no one. The DA's office oversees the DA's office. And if anyone had power in the state of Georgia, then your father made sure he had power over them.

Everything is out in the open now. And you just have to move on.

You are so lost in thought; you jump when you hear a noise from behind you. Maybe you are not the best person to be on guard duty, too distracted on the job. You look up expecting to see Jamie when the observation deck door opens. But you are surprised to see Daryl walking out to the deck with a flashlight in hand. He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, and you can feel the awkwardness that exudes from him. You don't know what to say either.

"Hi," His voice is so soft, you barely hear it. When he hovers, you take pity on him, and you pet the ground next to you. He accepts your invitation, but before he sits, he takes his crossbow off his shoulder and lean it next to your rifle. You both don't say anything, just watch the stars seemingly brighter now that city lights are gone. The moment is comforting, the smell of him so familiar, and it takes you back to the times you would press your nose to his back, arms wrapped around his waist on his motorcycle.

"What Merle did…" He starts but can't get his words out. You look at him, so close, yet so far way. "What you did for him… that was... even though he doesn't deserve it."

"Of course, he's your brother." There is nothing you won't do for him. He hums in response, eyes far away. He turns to look at you and you can feel his eyes running across your face.

"I resented ya for long time, and there were days where I wished I ain't never met you." You bite your lips, that breaks your heart even more. "And I see somethin that reminds me of you, and I beat myself for even thinkin that." You thought you have no more tears to shed, all dried for the day, but the gates open up again. You let what he said simmer. The boy you loved would never think that unless he had been in a very dark place... you had put him there.

"What… What did the letter say?" he says, bringing you back to him, and you look at him, the blue of his eyes glossy. What can you say, besides just scratching his old wounds again. Him finding out Merle's deed doesn't change his pain, perhaps it might even add to it… betrayal by his brother.

And then you hear Carol's voice telling you, begging you to give him the closure he needs. You slowly turn your whole body to him, and the vision of him is so clear, the moon light just the right amount of brightness. You are thankful he's still here, and alive, and you get to see him like this… beautiful… in and out.

"It doesn't matter anymore…" You whisper, no matter how much it hurts you. "It was a long time ago and I don't even remember what I wrote." Yes, you do, you remember every word. He looks away from you and you know, perhaps, your words might have hurt him. So, you reach over and grab his hand, and this time he doesn't flinch from you. You slowly pull your sleeve to show him your tattoo.

To infinity and beyond.

He brings your hand closer, inspecting the words. The words you used to tell him… endless possibilities.

"I don't want you to resent me anymore." You speak softly, because for you, no matter how painful the memories had been, no matter how the negative thoughts swallowed you whole, you held on to him.

He runs his thumb across the tattoo, and you can feel the goosebumps rise with it. Give him the closure, let him heal.

"I want you to know, there's never been a moment I stopped looking back. I looked for you, I looked for you in other people. I looked for you in the smell of your cigarettes. You have always been the person that shook me to my core. So I tattooed you to my skin, and carried you everywhere. You were my biggest insecurity, the person I want to be worthy too, worthy of. You were my infinity, and even beyond that." Your voice cracks, and you wipe your eyes when your vision becomes too blurry. Stay strong… let him go...let it all go.

"I hope when you look back on our time, you no longer think of pain, but joy, happiness, and the unconditional love we had for each other. When you think back of me, I hope you see that young girl who gave you her heart, body, and soul. The girl who put it all at your feet. The girl who wanted to go to war for you." His hands shake where he held your wrist, and he finally brings his eyes to you, you see his silent tears too.

"Because When I think back, all I remember is the beautiful boy with the heart of gold. The boy who taught me, not just his handy skills, but how to be selfless, kind, and resilient. The boy who had nothing but gave me everything." You grab his hand, the one holding your wrist, and you bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. The hand that taught you a lot of things, held you close, and touched your naked body.

"Even though our time was short, you had a profound effect on my life. And I'm thankful for that, for you. That I got to love you like that, a once in a lifetime kind of love, you know. A love that consumed me." You smile, though tears continue to fall. He deserves to know he was loved. He was never abandoned.

You bring his hand to your lips once more. You don't know what else to say. This is as far as you can go, and if you stay any longer you will fall apart. You gently return his hand, and with strength you did know you have, you slowly get up. You look down at him, and though you know, you are finally giving him the closure he needs and deserves, you are also leaving your heart at his feet.

You only made it two steps to the observation door, the one that exits the deck, before you feel the back of your jacket being tagged. When you turn, Daryl is right there. You didn't even hear him get up. Though wet face and wet eyes, he shakes his head at you, you are even more surprised when he grabs the front of your jacket, and he pulls you to him. When you fall, he engulfs you in his arms. It takes you a heartbeat before you return it fiercely, your face pressed to his neck. There you smell him again, and you are reminded of that warmth.

Your body shakes, but he holds you tighter, his fingers burying in your hair, as if you can merge your body to his.

You don't know how long you stood there in his arms, but you know this is where you want to die, when the time comes, you want him to hold you like this…

Eventually he does release you, and you do go back to your cell, leaving him to resume his guard duty.