Life had never been easy for the younger Dixon. He always thought that he could never do anything right under his father's drunken gaze even though he'd pushed himself to the maximum, sometimes to the point of throwing up or passing out from exhaustion. Merle seemed to stir clear of the punishments by simply not being around most of the time at the unwelcoming household. He was at least 10 years older than Daryl, so by the time the young Dixon reached 12 years of age, his older counterpart had his own flat to himself.
"Why can't you be like your brother?" Those words came like salt to his fresh wounds whilst he was being beaten for being 'Imperfect'. They didn't phase him anymore. When his father didn't receive the reactions that he wanted from the bitter comments, Daryl would have to endure another 10 minutes of abuse and by the end of it, he'd be a crying mess on the floor in the corner
of his room that didn't even have a bed in.
The shopkeepers at the local store knew him a squirt. When Merle was still sharing the small cabin with the rest of his family, he'd take Daryl shopping for 'essential items' that there father had drunkenly scribbled down on a scrap piece of paper. The shopkeepers knew Merle as a 'force to be reckoned with' but they all had a laugh with him and slip in an extra bottle of whiskey for free. He'd only started bringing his younger brother with him not long before he moved out when he'd noticed the raised scars on his back during their cuddle sessions. That's when the shopkeepers noticed that Daryl was considerably smaller than his brother.
"Here, this should help calm them down" Merle grumbled as he handed the bottle of baby oil to his brother.
"Don't baby's need this?" The smaller boy asked, curiously.
"Yeah, you wash 'em in it. Makes their skin smooth." The older man answered bluntly.
"I ain't a kid Mer. I don't need this" Daryl mumbled and tried to put the bottle back on the shelf, but the bottle was soon shoved back into his chest with a large, calloused hand weighing it down.
"Daryl, did I call you a kid?" The younger Dixon could tell the other was trying to keep his temper at bay when he saw his teeth clenched. Daryl looked down at the bottle then sighed as he put it in the basket.
"Don't let dad see this, he'll flip" Merle warned as they walked to the tills to pay for the items.
He'd managed to to keep the oil hidden until one night when he was applying it, he didn't notice a large figure leaning against the door frame, watching how and where he applied the oil.
"What do you thing you're doing with that?" Came a composed slur. Daryl' whole body shook when he heard that voice. He was in trouble with no escape. The following actions came too quickly for him to comprehend a hand on the back of his neck and the bottle snatched from his grasped. The grip on his neck tightened to an unbearable amount making his mouth open in a silent scream.
"Hiding this from me you little shit!" The baby oil swiftly came up to his mouth and a heavy liquid filled his throat until it came down his chin. The bottle was then carelessly thrown across the bathroom and the hand that held it came up to seal his mouth shut. "Drink it, boy!" Daryl had no escape, so therefore, he swallowed the liquid in large gulps. He was then thrown carelessly to another corner and left to sleep on the cold, hard tiles of the floor with his stomach turning and lurching. Another day, another beating.
