In This World- Daryl Dixon

Before: Last Call

Two nights had passed since Merle had given Daryl an ultimatum: Abandon Brandy to join Hayes, or stay with Brandy and lose Merle.

His initial answer had been Brandy, but he quickly changed his mind to Merle. But, after spending another night on Brandy's couch, his answer reverted back to Brandy. As twilight drew in on night one, his answer was back to Merle. This repeated on the second day. Now, it was his final night to decide. This morning, like the last two, he couldn't imagine leaving Brandy. But as the clocked ticked past 11 at night, Daryl felt his mind shift once more.

He looked over at her from his position at the axe throwing station. He leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, watching over the patrons as they threw axes. However, he payed little attention to his charges. How could he when Brandy was just half a room away?

He watched her laugh, and flick her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder as she talked to an old man with one arm. She wore a genuine smile; a far cry from her seductive half smirk. She placed a large burger in front of him along with a beer and a bottle of ketchup. The man made a comment, and Brandy laughed again. It was a lovely sound; loud and deep.

The old man began on his burger, so Brandy slipped out from behind the counter, and made her way to Daryl. She leaned against the wall next to him, her shoulder pressed against his.

"Hows it going?" she asked him.

He shrugged.

"S'arlight," he said.

"Well, I'd say yer doin a might fine job of standing there and lookin tough," Brandy said, crossing her arms to mimic him.

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Whose the old man?" he asked after a few moments.

Brandy looked at the bar counter.

"Thats Old Man Joe. He lost his arm serving in Korea," she said. "He's good friends with Chuck and does his best to check up on me," she added. She snorted. "Actually, now that I think about it, there are a whole lotta old men in this town that check up on me now a days. Buncha geezers."

She smiled as she said this. There was warmth in her eyes.

"All courtesy of Chuck, course. Even from Florida, he's tryin to look out for me, now a days."

She looked back to Daryl.

"You ever have someone like that? Yah know, a Chuck. Someone who looks after yah, even though he ain't family?"

"No," Daryl said. "Just Merle."

Brandy nodded, then glanced at the counter. Three people were waiting to order.

"Well, back to it," she said, flashing him another smile.

Daryl cast his eyes to the ground. That conversation had sealed Daryl's mind. All Daryl had his whole life was Merle; just Merle. Brandy had folk to look after her. She'd be fine without him. Besides, he'd only known her two weeks. He couldn't trust her. It had always been just him and Merle, and it would always be just him and Merle. It didn't matter if Brandy was the only person to ever make him feel warm and calm and comforted. It didn't matter if she was the only person to show him genuine kindness. It didn't matter how she made his heart race or how he couldn't look away from her. Daryl simply couldn't exist without Merle.

So, as the clock ticked closer to midnight Daryl steeled his resolve. At 11:45 the bar closed and it was just him and Brandy. Daryl sat with rigid posture in one of the bar stools while Brandy swept the floor. He had to say goodbye to her but how? How could he look her in the eye and say he was leaving her to join up with the man who tortured her? The one who nearly killed her. The one he had seen brutalize her just a few days ago. How could he admit his betrayal to the woman he so desperately cared for?