Dixon's Stick Together

Dixon men don't cry.

"You ain't nothin' but trash boy! Look at yourself" Merle spat, glaring at the youngest with such a menacing glare as he'd been laying on his back, hands frantically pushing Merle away at arms reach.

Towering over a frightened yet angry Daryl who he'd shoved to the leaf covered foliage beneath their feet. They argued like usual, but this argument ended with a hard shove to his baby brothers chest, resulting in him being on top of him, gripping his sleeveless shirt in his fist.

"Ain't nobody care bout' you!"

"Shut up!" Daryl growled, pushing at his brothers chest and trying to push himself up only to be shoved harder into the ground causing him to grimace as he glared into his brothers cold eyes.

Merle's hold on him was so tight, his knuckles had turned white. His face was red, full of a sinful anger and he wasn't going to let go until he'd gotten his point across and Daryl knew it.

"What's the matter Darlena can't handle a little truth?"

"Get off me!"

Struggling against Merle's hold, his frantic pushing and trying to escape from his brothers grasp made his anger flare. He wanted to leave. Wanted to escape and get away from his asshole of a brother that seemed to not care about anything anymore. Even himself.

With a sadistic, cold sneer written on his face, Merle gave a humorless laugh as he watched his baby brother struggle furiously to get out of his hold on him. Pinned to the ground, he could try to escape all he wanted, but Merle always knew he had the upper hand in their battles.

"You mad boy?" He smirked watching his brother grumble from underneath," I'll tell you what little brother. You ain't never gonna be anythin' more then my shadow, you hear me" He spoke, his words were stern along with his gaze.

His brother looked defeated. Angry and yet he'd seemed as if he had enough. With a last forceful hit to Merle's chest, without warning Daryl spit onto his face.

"You son of a bitch!" He yelled, hands coming up to his eyes and using the back of his palms to wipe away his brothers dirty tactic.

The body underneath him squirmed, hearing the leaves crunch from his panicked escape as the sounds of Daryl's heavy breathing and panicked whines filled the air around them. Merle was livid now. To fight with his brother was one thing, but to be spit on was another.

Eyes shut from temporarily being blind, he swung his hands down to grab the redneck prick who had the nerve to spit on him like that.

When his hands made contact, he shoved whatever part of his brother he could manage and when he did he heard a small thump. Not paying any attention to the sound, he brought his hands back to his eyes and continued to wipe them free of the left over spit as he cursed a storm for any walker near to hear.

Standing up blindly, he opened his eyes, watching his baby brother pick himself up from the floor.

"You prick! " Merle spat, stomping towards his brother just as he'd just gotten to his feet to run for it, he shoved him hard against a tree that was just a few feet away and heard a pained whine come from Daryl.

"You'd better hope-.."

Merle trailed. His anger written on his face in a menacing scowl. Though he'd been seeing red before until his brothers fearful eyes met his, and he saw red in a different way.

Daryl's eyes were red, glistening and had shed a tear or two just when he'd been escaping from the aggressive hands of his brother.

He was scared.

With a firm grasp held on his brothers sleeveless shirt, he hated the look on Daryl's face wether he admit it or not. It was the same look that appeared on his baby brothers face when their pa would be heard walking through the front door of their "home" as so called. Every time their pa came home nothing good ever happened.

The red he'd seen now was the red that was smeared just underneath Daryl's nose. Slowly trailing down to trickle over his top lip until, he'd wiped the back of his palm across his nose, smearing the blood some more just before giving a sniff. He hadn't hit his brother, so he didn't understand why his nose had been bleeding. 

"Merle"

The pity sound of Daryl's voice brought his eyes back to his brothers broken eyes. He watched as he rose his hands to his fist that were gripping his shirt once more. He was defeated, but if anything were to happen, he had his hands on his brothers fist just incase he'd attack.

"You ever spit on me like that again, I swear you ain't never gonna see the light of day!" Merle spat, getting in his face to make his point clear," get that through your head there Darlena!"

Watching Daryl stiffly nod settled the score for Merle. Not as mad as he'd been before after seeing his brother so unusually defeated, he let go of his brothers shirt, leaving wrinkles in the front as he eyed him.

Daryl avoided eye contact as he stood still, wiping his bleeding nose once more with the back of his hand and looking at the dead leaves beneath his feet, sniffling every other second.

Shifting his weight, Merle saw Daryl flinch before his eyes met his in a brief glance.

Had he really scared his baby brother this bad?

Not able to hold the question to himself any longer he poked.

"I didn't hit you" Daryl shook his head," so why you bleedin' a god damn lake over here?"

"You shoved me into a rock.."

At the answer, Merle turned his head back looking at the crunched up leaves where they'd been wrestling and of course saw the big rock he hadn't seen before to be about right. Now he knew why he'd heard that thump. It apparently had been the sound of Daryl's face crashing into it when he'd forcefully shoved him blind.

Returning his eyes back to Daryl his baby brother quickly glanced away from him as if scared to look any longer for more than a few seconds. Though Merle had sympathy for his baby brother, he did want him to know what and what not to do just for future reference.

Reaching in his back pocket he grabbed a black bandana," Don't cry. Dixon men don't cry." Tossing the bandana to his brother, Daryl grabbed it, eyes raising back to Merle's.

"You gonna cry when somethin' happens to ya self in front of other people? Little brother the moment you do your showin' them just how weak you are. Keep those damn emotions to ya self, understand."

It was more of a demand than a question as he eyed his baby brother who had a habit of dropping his eyes back to his feet. Fidgeting with the bandana in his hands just before raising it to his nose, Merle gave a sharp whistle that met his eyes with his once more.

Serious Merle spoke," You gon make me repeat myself"

"Nah.." Daryl uttered, hesitantly wiping the blood from underneath his nose.

"It's time you grow a pair. Now let's get goin' I ain't got time for this bullshit."

Merle never meant to be so hard on Daryl. It was his little brother and because he was, he did what he had to do to protect him. He couldn't cry because if another person saw, he could be killed. Showing any sign of pain was weakness. He needed his baby brother to know that. He had to instill that in his head, so he could build up that shell.

He needed to hide his emotions wether he liked it or not. It's what made them survive. They had to be this way because it was the only way. No one could change that. No one.