𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. V - 《bleeding heart》

oOo

"The hell was that about, Daryl?" Merle barked as soon as they were out of earshot. Irked and not feeling up to it, Daryl prepared himself for an unwanted chiding. "We were 'bout to luck out with them cottonpickers!"

Daryl looked over his shoulder before hissing at his brother, "They got kids, asshole. Need it more than we do."

"That ain't never bothered you before, and that sky-scraping beanstalk was more tower than kid." Merle laughed a single humorless chuckle and sobered up, fixing Daryl with an inquiring stare. "If my memory serves me well, I remember you being 100% in on it right before the deed. The hell changed ya mind?"

Daryl gripped his crossbow and stared ahead, ignoring his brother for the time being, and keeping eyes and ears alert to any biters that could cross their path as they weaved their way through the endless traffic.

His thoughts went back to the encounter.

Sure, at the beginning he'd been game for the robbing stint. He didn't know them. He couldn't begin to care what would happen to them once he and his brother liberated them of their belongings and left them to fend for themselves with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.

That's what he'd thought. That's what he told himself a thousand times over. And maybe that mentality came easier for his brother, but for Daryl, his resolve weakened when he saw them up-close and interacting with each other.

He was stabbed with guilt, which only grew overwhelming and sunk deeper into him the longer he stood there.

There had been pain and despair and tears, and Daryl cursed himself for feeling for them, but he did.

And after the girl had proposed an exchange, which he knew to be no good for them, Daryl had found the perfect opportunity to make up an excuse to get him and his brother out of there.

Now Merle wanted justifications and he just couldn't tell him the truth.

"Man, I ain't gotta tell you shit. Ain't gotta justify myself to you." Daryl shrugged off the hand that had found its way to his shoulder, its weight overbearing and accusing. Any second longer and it would've felt like his brother would personally pluck out the truth from his brain.

Merle pulled his lips back in an animal smile, a vague threat behind his words, "The hell you don't. I don't know 'bout you, but I ain't goin' 'round saving people outta the goodness of my heart!"

Merle gripped Daryl by the shoulder, forcefully this time, and turned him around to face him. The momentum threw Daryl against a random car, which shook and squeaked with the weight slammed on it.

"Get off me!" The younger brother lashed out instinctively and pushed Merle off at the same time that a biter from inside the car hurled itself at the rolled up window with a snarl, startling the two brothers. Daryl jumped and raised his cross at the female, while Merle aimed his rifle.

She wasn't a threat, they deemed, and left her behind, banging tirelessly on the glass window.

Daryl stormed off in advance and Merle followed after. "Ah, it's like that, ain't it, baby brother?" he resumed his line of interrogation, "What on this damned earth is wrong with you?"

Daryl whirled around suddenly, almost causing Merle to run into him, and stated clearly, "Fuck off, Merle," before he could stop, one of his thoughts slipped out his mouth, "They didn't even know what the hell was goin' on!" His eyes widened just for the fraction of a second at the slip and he turned back around to resume his stalk.

"Exactly." Merle strutted to his side and presented him with a cold grin. "They ain't gonna make it long as it is, why not end their sufferin' before it even begins, ya know, out of mercy?"