Dixon's Stick Together

Dont let em' ruin ya

"You lettin' em pick on you?"

Daryl felt his stomach knot as he kept his eyes casted down. Avoiding his brothers gaze when he gave a subtle shake of his head as he continued to scrape his pocket knife against the grain of a stick he'd found while sitting on the ground in the woods. Merle didn't need to ask that question to remind him of what his truth really was. The bruises that followed aches and pains down his sore torso from his day old beating reminded him daily. Sharp pains in his chest lingered with the slightest breath he took. Hiding each wince from his brothers sight as he'd say criss crossed on the dirt.

A healing scab remained tender on his bottom lip along with the sight of his black bandana he'd had wrapped around his left wrist to keep a dirty secret to himself.

"Nah"

Daryl heard a scoff followed by a raspy chuckle from his brother and that only stirred his sick feeling.

"Now, I don't know who the hell your talkin' to there baby brotha when your lookin' down at that damn stick in those dirty ass hands of yours."

"They ain't." He growled, glancing at his brother just so he'd give him the satisfaction of being looked at when speaking.

"So you wouldn't mind if I knew where they hung out after school?"

Daryl's breath hitched for a moment. Hand freezing against the grain of the sick as he rose his eyes to his brothers mused ones watching him give a harmless shrug.

"You wouldn't mind if I told them who I was and beat their asses now wouldn't you?" He grinned cruelly as he caught his little brother's attention," I don't think that'd be a damn problem Darlena. Hell, I think that'd be an ass kicking idea if I were you."

"You'll be fightin for nothin'" Daryl grunted, eyes narrowing at his brother," I told you. Ain't nobody done anythin' to me."

It was as if in that moment the words triggered something in his brothers brain and in an instant he trudged his way toward him with a look of pure anger written on his face. Daryl's guard was up. He was frightened, but more concerned on what was going on in his brothers head.

"Get your ass up" Merle growled, while shooting a hand out and roughly grabbing the back of Daryl's sleeveless shirt.

Heart pounding inside his chest, Daryl was yanked from the ground before being dragged beside his brother who was trudging them to his tattered and beaten up white truck in the distance.

"Merl-"

"I've done had enough of your bullshit!" Fumed Merle while glancing towards his brother who seemed panicked," your gonna sit your ass in my truck and we're gonna have it out with those pin headed assholes" he spat," Your gonna fight. Show em you ain't their bitch and not to mess with ya anymore."

"Let go of me!" Twisting and turning in his brothers harsh grasp, Daryl flung his hands to the back of his shirt, prying at the fist that held him hostage.

Merle ignored the cry of anger and continued to haul them to his truck. The peeling white paint on Merle's truck becoming much clearer the closer they got, Daryl continued to furiously struggle against his brothers hold as his mind raced with all kinds emotions. He was angry and scared that the two feelings of being overwhelmed like many times before blurred his vision with nothing, but a spiteful rage.

Only Merle could spark such a vicious flame inside him. Angry, he yanked himself side ways to try and get away only to be harshly tugged back. The collar of his shirt choking him for just a split second as the passenger side door of the vehicle was yanked open by a rough hand of his brother.