WITH YOU | TWD

THE DIXON BROTHERS

Was he happy? Definitely not - nobody would be happy to see Merle.

He was more relieved than happy or excited. After a very short distance wanted to turn around and run after Rick's car. The further he walked into the woods, the more he wanted to just leave his stupid brother. Why did he even agreed to all of this? Probably because of shock - his dead brother wasn't dead anymore.

Alone. The word echoed through his mind, settling deep within the pit of his stomach. A tight knot was forming in his gut, twisting his insides uneasily as the gravity of the situation hit him at full force. He heard his brother's steps, but he felt alone. For quite some time Merle was his ghost and nothing changed in this matter.

"Smells to me like a Sawhatcher Creek," said Merle.

"We didn't go west enough," Daryl shook his head. "There's a river down there, it's got to be the Yellow Jacket."

"You have a stroke, boy?" asked Merle. "We ain't never come close to Yellow Jacket."

"We didn't go west," the archer shook his head. He felt something strange, something heavy inside of his body when his brother started questioning his decision. He was used to the group trusting in his abilities by now. "Just a little bit south. That's what I think."

"Know what I think?" Merle stopped. "I may have lost my hand, but you lost your sense of direction."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"What? Do you want to bet?" Merle chuckled.

"Why everything got to be a competition with you?"

"No need to get your panties all in bundle."

Daryl took couple steps after his brother before stopping again. Merle's presence wasn't comforting, everything he was saying was making his body tense. He felt like he was going to be sick. God, if only he had thought about consequences before announcing his departure. If he hadn't act abruptly the way he did, if he had reacted in a calm way, then maybe everything would be different. Maybe his group would still be here. He hated himself for being so emotional. What was Charlie thinking? He said they would see each other again and now he was on the way as far from her as he could. Would she be okay when she finds out that he's gone?

A loud scream made him come back from his thought. "You hear that?"

Enough was enough.

Daryl made his decision and he was already walking in a direction where he knew the prison was.

"They were rude is what they were," Merle called after his brother. "Rude, and they owed us a token of gratitude."

"They didn't owe us nothing," he answered.

"You helping people out of the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doing it?" Merle asked in angry voice. "Is that something your Sheriff Rick taught you?"

Daryl turned abruptly and spat with anger: "There was a baby!"

"Oh, otherwise you would have just left them to the biters, then?"

"Man, I went back for you!" he yelled, meaning the time he made Rick go back to Atlanta. "You weren't there! I didn't cut off your hand, neither! You did that!" he added in anger. "Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

Merle tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Now you sound just like that little mouthy bitch. What was her name?"

Daryl clenched his teeth and hands.

"You know which one," he said. "With a curvy body and pretty face. Is she still alive?"

"Stop!" Daryl yelled. "You don't get to talk about her like that!"

Older Dixon took a step back as if he was punched. "Oh...I see. You like her, younger brother."

Daryl said nothing and just turned away, ready to ho back to his group. His family. Charlie.