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From the very first day you met Daryl, found starving inside one of the many abandoned houses that Merle and he searched and raided before they settled down at the Quarry, you both had been connected at the hip. Merle had thought it strange at first. Just a cute little crush for his younger brother to entertain while the world went to shit around them. A cute crush that could potentially become quite the fucking problem if you ever got in the way of their survival. "C'mon baby bro..." Merle growled one particularly rainy day when he finally had a chance to get Daryl alone. "Don't cha see they're just usin' ya?" Merle drawled a snake like grin crossing his face as Daryl shot him an uncertain and self conscious glance. But as the little stow away stumbled through the thick brush, proudly holding up a long string of fish they must have noodled out of the nearby crick, Merle watched Daryl's eyes gleam and pride radiate from his very body. "Usin' me huh?" Daryl teased walking over to you, helping you wipe the mud and grime from your face in the most gentle way his brother had ever seen.
As the shit hit the fan and the largest herd of walkers the group of three had yet to see approached from seemingly all sides, Merle was certain you were going to die. That you'd be too slow to keep up. That you'd loose your balance or your weak ankles would give out. What worried Merle most was that if you did happen to trip, happen to get hurt. His moron of a brother would risk his own life again to save you. But you were faster than he expected you would be and even though you had complained before of your weak ankles swelling, a part of you Daryl had no problem touching and massaging on a normal day. Another mystery to the eldest Dixon. You seemed to be Leading the charge far in front of both men, pointing and leading them through the woods. Only for a moment did Merle think to be suspicious of your sudden athletic prowess. But it was only for a moment before you reached out and pulled Merle back from tripping over the root of a tree that would have sent him to his death over the edge of a nearby cliff. Feeling the warm squeeze of your hand in his Merle realized that even after you had safely navigated him away from the ledge you were still holding tight to his wrist, a worried look to your face and hot tears staining your cheeks. "Y-you gotta keep up old man!" You finally called back, stifling a sob he knew would have wracked you and slowed you down... Well damn. Merle followed you into a well abandoned cabin deep in the woods, one that he could tell just by lookin at it was a distillery at one point in it's life. Shoving what little furniture the cabin had up against the windows and doors the trio waited with baited breath as the herd pushed past, begging that none of them would tear through the thin walls in the night while you rested.
"Alrigh'..." Merle grumbled tossing his pack in the corner, glaring at the way his brother was doting on you, letting you lean on him for support to catch your breath. Your hand rested softly on his chest and if Merle had been a dumb man, which he fuckin wasn't. He would have missed the way you intertwined your fingers with Daryl's other hand. "Tell me." Merle growled sitting across from the two who seemingly scrambled to get away from one another in order to avoid getting caught. "Don't know wha-" Daryl tried to bullshit him but Merle could see right through his brother. "Ah! Don't try that shit." Merle growled growing more and more agitated by the minute. Agitated that the two of them thought they could just sneak around him with out him finding out. Agitated that his brother thought he was some kinda fool and couldn't figure it out on his own. But, most of all, agitated that Daryl hadn't trusted him with the truth earlier. "How long have ya known each other?" Merle hissed, gesturing between the two blushing kids. And god they really did look like kids to him now. Despite being covered in mud, walker bits and blood, they both looked so... damned young. "Well..." Merle huffed when he received nothing but silence from either his brother or you in return. "I already told ya." Daryl tried to lie once more, not daring to meet his eyes. "We just met the other day... you were there." You nodded your head a little too enthusiastically to try and convince Merle... something that didn't sit right with the older Dixon. "Bull shit." Merle huffed shaking his head. "There's somethin' more goin' on between you two..." Merle muttered jabbing a finger at his brother's chest then yours. "You two have been all buddy buddy since we picked the runt up." Merle stated watching carefully as you seemed to pull away from the crassness of his voice and Daryl... well if Daryl realized he was doing it Merle had no idea but he had shifted his body slightly to place himself between his brother and you, a deep scowl plastered on his face. "Don't you dare call them names... they just saved yer hide." Daryl hissed defensively. And there it was. Love. Merle sighed shaking his head a small smirk gracing his lips. But, who was he to make them realize what it was called before either of them said it out loud? Instead Merle slapped his knee. "Ah... shit. Thought I recognized 'em from before... must just be tired." Merle sighed, standing with a low groan to go set up his corner of the cabin.
After that long night, Merle kept a closer eye on you two from the shadows. He didn't distrust you as much anymore you were always quick to have not only Daryl’s back but his own and Merle warmed up to you coming to see you as more of a family member and less as of a threat. But that didn't mean that you got to just do whatever you wanted to his little brother in the middle of the apocalypse without someone watching your dumbass backs. Most of the time what Merle observed was tame. A small brush of the hands while you two walked further ahead than him. A bump of the shoulders while they were sitting alone by the fire. When they finally arrived at the Quarry, the three of them kept mostly to themselves finding the small group's leader that took them in suffocating and a hard ass. Shane, the wannabe jughead, was insufferable on a good day. He harassed you on a near constant basis when his own makeshift piece of ass wasn't around to keep him on his toes. "What're ya doing hanging around these fuckin' hicks?" He asked you one day while you were busy skinning the rabbits you had caught. A glare was all you graced him with before he plopped down on the log beside you. "There's more than enough room for you to bunk down next to us ya know... next to me." The perverted ex-cop cooed leaning closer to you. But, much to Merle's glee and entertainment, you looked completely appalled and disinterested. Flipping the man off you shoved the bloody skinned rabbit into his arms. "There... dinner for the young ones." You growled, walking down to the water's edge to wash off.
But, the bastard didn't give up easily. Even once the others in the camp had started to put two and two together that you might... maybe... possibly be in an intimate relationship with the youngest of the Dixon boys and were officially off limits Shane persisted. Merle watched you carefully on the days that the two lovebirds at the camp drank too much and tore into each other. It happened more often than Merle ever felt comfortable with and always ended with a very drunken Shane attempting to shove a wedge into whatever relationship was forming between you and Daryl. But Merle knew his baby brother... his self confidence was in the gutter. And so when another young buck entered his territory, Daryl tended to run and hide or duck his head. "Tell me something." Shane slurred one night, nearly sitting on Daryl's lap in order to slide between you and him. If you hadn't begged Merle to leave well enough alone earlier in the day when the arguing startled the deer the three of you had been hunting all day, he might have put the man out of his misery then and there. "Why do you go out and do all this men's work?" Shane asked drunkenly slurring his words, waving around his half empty beer bottle towards your bow and Daryl's crossbow. "You'd be much better off if you just stayed here with the women and... ya know did women work." Merle had stifle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat watching the way your face morphed from confused disgust to pure astonished hatred. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?!" You hissed. And lordy above if looks could kill Shane would have been fuckin' toast. If not only from the searing glare you sent his way but the absolute daggers Daryl was piercing into the back of Shane's skull at the sheer audacity this man had. But... it seemed that on this night Shane just wanted to test his luck with you. "Yeah... I mean." Shane grabbed your wrist flipping your hand over to look at the palm of your hand. "No one as beautiful as you deserves to have calluses this thick. Besides... you're too delicate for anything more than washing clothes." Oh yeah... that did it. Merle chuckled as you stood and brought the very hand Shane had been holding across his face. "Don't you ever touch me you prick!" You hissed. But something about the way Shane's demeanor didn't set right with Merle... He was too still. He just stared off into space. A look Merle was far too familiar with having served in the military and time in prison. It was a dangerous distant look. But before Shane could act on whatever was brewing in his mind, you stormed off into darkness of the woods, Daryl hot on your tail.
The argument that followed could be heard for a good half mile. "I said leave me the hell alone Daryl!" Merle heard you yell, frustrated and sobbing from within the trees. Merle heard his brother mutter something vaguely sad and soft. It was your first real fight so if he had to guess Daryl was asking what was wrong, or what he could do to help... the poor bastard. "You think they'll be ok?" Dale, the group's resident crazy elderly man asked Merle softly. The older Dixon shrugged, pulling the flashlight from his backpack with an annoyed sigh. "It's not [Y/N] I'm worried about." He muttered lowly, standing with a pained groan. "Fine you wanna talk so bad let's fuckin' talk!" Your scream could be heard all across the Quarry and Merle knew... Daryl was in fuckin' trouble. "I better go get his dumb ass before they kill each other." Merle sighed rolling his eyes. Merle tracked his brother and wannabe in-law down and reminding them that the walkers still existed and were dangerous even when they were pissed off at each other. You insisted that maybe... you should just sleep in Dale's RV for a while. With that said and tears rolling down your cheeks you stormed off back towards the camp. Merle watched you go for a moment before turning to his brother who for all intents and purposes was completely distraught. Daryl paced back and forth growling nonsense, punching the bark off of tree trunks, and grasping at the short hair on his head. "What the fuck?!" Daryl whined, kicking a dead tree down. Merle would have quipped back with something nasty and hurtful. He certainly wanted to... But he figured that maybe this time he should just keep his fuckin' trap shut and try listening this time. "They told me they needed space... so I walked a little slower to give 'em space. They got pissed when I asked what I asked what I could do then told me I didn't do shit so why even ask that. And now they want to sleep in the camper with Dale?!" Daryl growled huffing and plopping down the freshly made tree stump. Merle couldn't help but to laugh at his little brother rolling his eyes at Daryl's nonissue. "Wha' you fuckin' laughing at?!" Daryl hissed standing to get in Merle's face. "Got two bits of advice fer ya little brother." Merle murmured, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. "First... don't ever talk ta yer partner when they tell ya to fuck off. No matter how mad they are or what started it. Just let them be mad fer a bit..." Daryl stared at Merle like he grew a second head. "But I was jus' worried about walkers." Daryl muttered, shuffling his feet. Merle rolled his eyes. "That's the second tip little brother... grow a pair of balls." Merle teased, grabbing his own crotch for emphasis. "You say to me you were just worried about walkers but that's bull shit... you were trying to smooth things over because you know you fucked up by letting Deputy Dickface harass and touch your partner whenever he feels like it... that's why they want to sleep in Dale's camper. Not because their especially pissed at you little bro... but you won't do anything to Shane so they don't feel safe if he were to try something." Daryl flapped his gums for a moment but Merle was already headed back to camp. "Just something to chew on little bro..."
Over the next few days Merle watched you and Daryl slowly make up in the solace of the woods. If he actually gave a shit he'd say it was cute... Daryl did his very best for you. He gave you a portion of his meal every time you all ate despite your protests. He taught you how to cock and shoot his cross bow properly. Merle thought it was cute funny that you tried your damnedest to ignore the way Daryl's body pressed into your back, his left hand pressed to your tummy, explaining that if you took deep enough breaths through your stomach your aim would be less shaky. He almosted missed the way that his little brother's right hand was so gently caressing you to help you position your arms closer to your body and that his breath was tickling the back of your neck as he almost whispered the encouragement into your ear as you pulled the trigger and shot your first deer with the new weapon. But the crushing hug he gave you afterwards, the little twirl and small, “You fuckin’ did it sunshine!” That. That was not a memory neither you or Merle were willing to ignore or push away any time soon. Even though he'd never say it out loud, Merle was damned proud of the his little brother. Especially the next time Deputy Dog came sniffing around. Daryl was by your side in an instant despite having been at the other side of the camp when the ex-cop first approached you. "Heard you were takin' a break from the hicks fer a while..." Shane hummed moving his hand to brush back a piece of your hair that had fallen into your face. "The only thing they'll be breakin' is yer nose if ya don't leave them alone." Daryl growled, walking around the two of you to take your waist, pulling you close to him. Unbeknownst to you at the time. You were teaching the youngest Dixon as well. You taught him the patience to listen even when all he wanted to do was run off in a confused huff or get moody. Merle watched on a little amused as you taught Daryl to fish using only your hand, a gleam of desire shining in his little brother's eyes as he watched you rolling around in the mud bear wrestling a giant catfish to land. You taught Daryl compassion. Something that some what weirded Merle out as the two of you approached Dale and Glenn one day offering to help out at the camper.
The worst day of Merle's life thus far came the day the Sheriff arrived. He was certain that as he sat handcuffed on the roof he was going to die. Even as he sawed his own hand from his arm he was sure he was going to die. But the one thought in his mind remained the same. He had to live to make it to see his little brother again. Even if it were just a glimpse. Even if he just got to know he was ok. Days of mending his wounded stump within the confines of Atlanta turned into weeks of wondering the backroads of Gorgia as he finally made his way back to their campsite. Eating and sleeping from dumpster to dumpster became a regular occurrence and then a necessity as Merle crashed hard detoxing from his array of vices he kept in his bike's side satchel. When Merle finally made it to the campsite, only to find rows and rows of mass graves buried there, the cars, his bike, and the camper gone. Merle had never known that level of loss in his life. Not even in the midst of war did Merle feel so much pain, digging on his knees with his only good hand into the shallow graves praying for the first time in his life that he wouldn't find the faces of his little brother or his brother's lover. But when they all came up as members of their makeshift community, people he hardly knew due to his isolation, Merle wept for the first time in a long time.
Years passed. Merle was "saved" from a life off drifting by the Governor. The Governor's men had found him, starving, nearly waisted away along the side of the road one evening. They had originally tried to kill him, seeing him as a parasite within the bounds of their territory. But time after time, group after group, Merle beat them. He was either able to evade them into the shadows and tight spaces of some abandoned building, going deep withing the walker infested parts of the cities the scouts weren't willing to go. Or he killed each and every one of the bastards that cornered him. But eventually... Merle grew tired and relented. The life he knew in Woodbury was not lavish nor grand by any sense of the word. Merle was a lacky used for his strength and military training... he was used to entertain the residents of Woodbury and keep the other lackies and prisoners in check. It was his job and for a while at least... he was good at it. Why wouldn't he be? It kept food in his belly and enough booze in his system to keep him numb to the horrific things he had to do to keep his position. But to say Merle was simply taking what was given to him was a drastic understatement. No... He may have been a hard headed moron on a good day, but Merle had a plan. One that involved taking the governor down and taking him for all he was worth in the process. Unfortunately for him, he tended to run his big mouth when he was drunk. A habit he was warned would kill him one day... But, Merle wasn't in the business of listening to his little brother's dumb advice especially when he was certain he was dead. Had to be after all the time that had passed between them. So instead when he missed him... he talked about him to the only people who listened... the governor and his lackies.
When Merle found the little Korean squirt loading up baby supplies into that car, he nearly shit himself. If that twerp was still alive, you and Daryl had to be... right? He knew it was impulsive. He knew the target was the samurai. But if he lost track of the twerp now... he could loose you and Daryl forever and that just wasn't a risk Merle was willing to take. He lied to the governor told him he killed the samurai but everything was lost in the blast... a bold lie for sure but a strong one when he held a single lock of hair. The governor seemingly believed him for the mean time and even offered to help interview the girl. An offer Merle should have known better than to accept. But emotions were already high and his judgement had been clouded. However... Merle did not expect Glenn to have such a steel trap. The boy took blow after blow, ribs cracking, nose breaking, blood spilling all in the name of protecting the ones he loved and cherished. Merle tried like Hell to get him to understand. "I just need ta know where Daryl and his partner are... I'll let ya and yer lady friend go if ya just tell me already!" Merle growled finally pushed to the breaking point when Glenn spit all over him. Of course Merle knew he went too far after he threw the walker into the room with Glenn. He was just so confused and frustrated that Glenn was so loyal... Maybe the girl would be easier to break. But what he found in her cell, the governor standing behind her half naked frame with her pinned to the table sent him from frustrated to furious in an instant. If it weren't for the nagging part of his brain reminding him there was something he truly needed at the end of all of this... Merle might have gone rouge then and there. "Hey..." Merle finally got out, straining his voice to hide any emotion. "They... They need ya up top." Merle lied. This time not caring about the repercussions of this particular lie. Merle waited outside watching as the governor passed him by before walking into the room they kept Glenn in. The boy was bloodied, bruised and beaten. He had broken the wooden chair he was taped to in order to kill the walker but by god he survived. Maybe the punk had more moxie than Merle gave him credit for... Without giving the kid a chance to run, Merle grabbed him by the arm, escorting him into the next room where his girl sat covering herself. A wave of hot shame and poisonous guilt washed over Merle as he shoved Glenn into the room. His only thought being... What if someone somewhere was doing this to you and Daryl... If he was willing to go this far... how far would someone else go? Tossing his vest at Glenn's girl he looked away, hoping that maybe if he was lucky he'd see his little brother again one day.
When the shooting started and the alarm was raised that prisoners were loose in the city of Woodbury, Merle knew Glenn's people had come to save them. Despite the impressive show he made of firing into the smoke, Merle did his best to miss the figures that crept and ran around. If you or Daryl were in fact amongst one of the few to be there, the last thing he wanted to do was accidently hit either of you. Instead his aim was at the Woodbury residents who dared aim a gun at the fleeing trespassers. God did he pay for it once everything calmed down... the Governor's daughter a walker he kept trapped and locked away was slaughtered during the fight and the Governor wanted blood. Placing Merle in the middle of the fighting ring, a position he wasn't unfamiliar with by this point in his career and life, Merle mentally and physically prepared himself. He expected the Walkers to be released on him. He expected to be whipped and possibly publicly shamed. What he didn't expect... was Daryl. His baby brother chained, beaten, battered, bruised, and whipped being drug into the arena with him. Worse than that, the very second he moved to step towards him, the Governor issued the very rules Merle prayed wouldn't be said in the arena. "To the death..." And so Merle did as ordered. He fought like it was his last breath. Using the governor's waning trust in him, Merle took the first blow sending an unsuspecting Daryl stumbling back. "Merle please." The words killed him as Merle stood over Daryl. But the eldest Dixon had a plan... he always did. Before he knew it snipers from the buildings above were firing down on the walkers and crowd making room for the rush of the crowd that rushed in, slaughtering whoever they had too to free Daryl.
Merle followed the group out, whether they wanted them too or not, Daryl refused to let them touch him. Despite it all Daryl was still loyal to his brother. But the group felt differently... and why wouldn't they? Merle knew he had done unspeakable acts against them... but he didn't ask to have them shoved in his face every two seconds. When enough was enough he and Daryl stormed off. Something they were good at. "Come on baby brother, your better off without them." Merle muttered, trying his damnedest to cheer his little brother up. But it all ended up just blowing up in his face... "We gotta go back to the prison. I need to go back..." Daryl muttered, more like a chant as he lead them deeper into the woods. "The prison? Why the hell do ya wanna go back there?" Merle asked, struggling to keep up with Daryl's determined stride. "Loyalty. Don't know if ya know anythin' about it... and I gotta... They need me." Daryl growled, glaring at his older brother as they ducked under branches. "I know more about loyalty than you ever will!" Merle had yelled. "Maybe you would if you had been there once fer me!" Daryl had screamed back. Merle huffed shaking his head. "Bull shit little brother. This ain't about loyalty. This is about somethin' else..." Merle mumbled trying to read the expression on his brother's face. "Whatever... this was a bad fuckin' idea." Daryl growled. Merle grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt when he tried to walk back to the road without him a familiar feeling of fear and abandonment washing over him as he did. The scars on Daryl's back were horrendous. And Merle knew exactly where they came from. "I-I'm so sorry... I-I never knew..." Merle tried to explain but Daryl was having none of it. "No... You did it's why you left... but it never stopped when you did." Merle couldn't help the pained laugh that escaped his lips. Daryl wasn't wrong. He was reading him like a book... when did he learn to do that? The two walked in silence for a while. Daryl tried like hell to get Merle to come back to the prison with him. But Merle knew deep down he never could. The people there would kill him. It was simple. When the baby's wail pierced the air and Daryl looked panicked, jumping into action without a moments hesitation. Something clicked. "They still alive?" Merle asked after Daryl finally handed the tiny baby back to it's family with a pained look to his face. "Huh? Yeah... Wha' cha mean by that?" Daryl asked, gesturing to the whimpering newborn wriggling in it's mother's arms as they all ran down the highway. "Not the baby, Daryl." Merle sighed. Daryl cocked a confused brow and craned his head. "[Y/N]? Yeah... They're still alive." Daryl huffed when he finally caught on to what Merle was asking. Pushing past his older brother Merle sighed. "You tell them yet?" Merle muttered, following Daryl off of the bridge. "Tell them what?" Daryl asked rolling his eyes at his brother's sudden interest in playing twenty questions. "That ya love 'em." Merle murmured. Watching as Daryl slowed to a stop, Merle hoped for a small second that his little brother would tell him off and send him packing. But instead for the first time since they reunited, Daryl looked like what he remembered him to be. Timid. Shy. And a little embarrassed. But still, the little shit nodded. "Ya want ta come see them?" Daryl asked softly, gesturing with his head in the direction he wanted to go. "They miss ya somethin' fierce."
Before this point... Merle had believed anxiety to be a myth. Something people made up to whine about or get out of work. But as he marched his way to the prison gates with Daryl by his side, Merle suddenly felt very small. It was a good thing that he had something to do when they first arrived... kill all the walkers they could to get in... but once they were done and the dust had settled, Merle was very aware of how many eyes were staring him down. Whispers of "What is he doing here?" and "Why did Daryl bring him back?" resonated deep within his soul. But one voice stood out above the rest. "Daryl?!" Your voice and the sound of your approaching footsteps as you sprinted to find him echoed from inside the prison walls. As you stepped into the greens of the courtyard Merle stood stalk still completely stunned. You looked stunning, your hair grown longer, your skin a little tanner than he remembered, and most shockingly of all... a little tike rested on your hip. The toddler clung to your shirt and buried into your heaving collar bone as you fought to catch your breath. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you ran to Daryl, who met you without hesitation halfway into the courtyard. "W-When you didn't come back-" You sobbed kissing Daryl's jaw before burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's ok... I just had to take a little detour." Daryl whispered taking the little one from you and kissing their face, blowing raspberries on their cheek for good measure. The tike giggle and squealed in Daryl's arms pushing his head away from their own. "Daddy stop!" They squealed. Daddy? Merle blinked rubbing his eyes with his good hand. He didn't think he was gone that long... "Merle?" Your voice called out as he looked back up at his little, growing, family. "The one and only." Merle gleamed grinning from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around his middle. "I'm so happy you're ok..." Your tone was happy and soft but turned as dark and piercing as the glare you shot up at Merle. "Merle Dixon... you know I respect you as Daryl's brother... and you know that I owe you and your brother my life... but, you really hurt Daryl with the actions you took in your past... now you have a chance to make them right. If you don't... or if you ever hurt Daryl with another dumbass mistake that makes you get lost or separated from us again. Know I'm going to be personally searching for you to beat your ass until you apologize." Merle tried to take you seriously... he really did. But as your voice grew thick and the tears from earlier began to flow Merle just couldn't find it in himself to even attempt to look scared of you. Instead the eldest Dixon pulled you close letting you rest your head against his chest to sob. "You idiot... You absolute fucking idiot." You sobbed.
Late that night Merle stared up at the stars from the sanctuary of the prison grounds. The groans of the dean did nothing to bother him much any more. The sound of approaching footsteps however put him on edge and forced him to turn to face his potential attackers. But, it was just Daryl, coming to sit beside him in the wet grass of the night. "Hey." Daryl muttered. "Hey..." Merle whispered back looking back at the door to see if you had followed him out. "[Y/N] not coming out?" He asked softly. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "Nah... she just got Sapphire down for the night." Daryl murmured, rolling his eyes with a laugh as he caught his brother's judgmental stare. "Look we didn't name 'er that... She knew 'er name when we found 'er and we couldn't bare to change it when it was the last thing she had of her real parents." Daryl said softly. Merle hummed in recognition. "Ya got a cute kid..." Daryl nodded, rubbing his arm. "Thanks. Try ta do right by her, ya know..." Daryl muttered and Merle completely understood because he always had and always would try and do right by his family... Even if it killed him.