FALLEN ANGEL ➵ DARYL DIXON [1] ✓

Chapter Four: A Precocious Uproar

Chapter 4

"How is she?"

"She's hanging' by a thread."

"I'm really sorry-"

"Just! - leave me be..."

"Okay... Okay."

"You said that it would get better... But it never does."

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Two Weeks Later

"I can't believe you!" Daryl whisper yells to Merle, not wanting this plan to become real.

"What? You gone soft on me, baby brother? It's the best plan since we came to Atlanta in the first place! Think about it, we rob them what they've got, and then we make a break for it. And if we have to... We'll kill a lock of folks on the way."

"No! We're not doin' this! These are good people minus Whitey and Markus. We're stayin' here!" Daryl leaned in to Merle's face, only inches away, growling like a wild animal.

"Ah," Merle says, leaning back and chuckling to himself. "I see what's goin' on now. You still have feelings for that tramp, don't ya?"

Daryl stays silent for a brief moment, then opens his mouth. "Jus'... Don't rob these people, Merle."

"No can do, sunshine. Hand me a rifle."

Daryl stays still, not moving, still inches away from Merle, foreheads almost touching. "No."

"Daryl... You best move out of my goddamn way right now!" He says, as Daryl was blocking his way into his tent where his rifle was.

"No can do, sunshine," Daryl Says, copying what Merle had just said a minute ago.

Merle grunts, grabbing ahold of Daryl's shirt at the collar. "Listen, asshole! These people will be back any minute and I gotta do this! For us! I care about you..."

Daryl snorts mockingly. "Funny way of showin' it."

"These wimps will bring us down. We gotta rise up against them!"

"Merle!" Daryl shouts abruptly. "They've got a little girl here and some other one is pregnant. We'd be basically killin' them there and then!"

"Not my fault she wanted to get knocked up. And so what if there is a little girl an' a pregnant doll? There's also a nigger here to, ya know? And a thief that stole your bike and your jacket. Get ahold of yourself, Daryl. They're walking dead."

"Ya don't know that." Daryl spits. "I'm not doin' it and that's final." Merle laughed at Daryl's statement.

"The whore has got her little finger around you. Yes she does... You're her bitch!"

Daryl grabs Merle's shirt and leans in closely, feeling Merle's breath on him. "I ain't nobody's bitch," he breaths roughly, his voice croaking. Merle's face screws up and his whole body twitches.

"What... What happened to you, little brother? I thought you were better than this. You're scared, ain't ya? Ever since Dad died, your different - like something snapped," he clicks his fingers in Daryl's face, "just like that. You use to not care! Now look at ye?! You're pathetic! You embarrass me, embarrass our name! The Dixon's! The Dixon's don't give a shit about people! But look at you... Carin'; Carin' away like it's nobody's business! Carin' will only bring you down... Never forget that... It doesn't look good on ye, Daryl. Carin' will only bring ya misery."