Walking Dead Birthday present

Their house stank. Merle realized it again when he entered a poorly furnished kitchen. It stank of cheap food, cigarettes and alcohol. Their mother was sitting behind the table, taking a drag on the cigarette with glass of wine in her hand. Out of all things they were missing, alcohol never seemed to be one of them.

"Hey mum," Merle called out, coming nearer. She didn't seem to notice him, until he placed his hand on her arm. She looked up, obviously startled.

"Daryl's got a birthday tomorrow," he looked at her inquisitively, hoping it will click into place. It didn't and she looked back at her glass, not interested.

"Are ya gonna get him somethin'?" Merle was growing impatient.

"You father will," she replied, her voice flat.

"I didn't mean trashin'," Merle kicked the chair in frustration and left the room.

"Merle, let's go outside," Daryl's childish voice roused him from his thoughts, "we can come back tomorrow morning when he's fast asleep."

"He ain't comin' tonight kid, ya can go to bed," Merle replied.

Daryl didn't move and hesitantly shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"That's what ya said last time and…"

"I was wrong so what?" Merle snapped at the child standing in front of him.

Daryl didn't flinch, just bowed his head and started studying his feet vigorously.

Merle sighed and looked at the boy. He was a sorry sight. Daryl was turning seven, but was rather small and weaker than other kids of his age. He was skinny little boy, with his brown hair constantly falling into his eyes. He kept narrowing his eyes all the time so Merle was not even sure what color they were.

Daryl was a spitting image of his mother, unlike Merle. Merle inherited his father's body structure and unfortunately some of his other features as well. He was sixteen but already looked much older and mature. People never guessed they were brothers but Merle had learned a long time ago not to underestimate his baby brother. Small or not, the kid was every inch Dixon. He might have appeared weak but he was fast as hell and he was smart. Merle was sometimes sorry there were nine years between them. If Daryl had been just a bit older, he could have helped him much more with that incredible waste of time, which they called high school.

There was also one more thing he noticed about his little brother that made him true Dixon. Daryl endured. No matter what nasty stuff their father had done to them, beatings they had to undergo, the kid endured everything and hardly ever complained.

Daryl walked over to the window and longingly watched the kids riding the bikes outside.

"Do ya think that dad could get me a bike for my b-day?"

Merle snorted and scooped up the little boy: "Did ya fall on your head baby brother? He would rather cut his hand off than givin' ya something ya wish for."

He put him on the bed and threw a blanket over him. But he didn't miss the sad look in the boy's eyes. He kept forgetting that Daryl was still a child, just getting used to everyday harsh Dixon's reality.

He ruffled his hair: "But hey…don't worry, I'm sure that the old man will come up with something special for his big boy."

He waited for Daryl's sleepy smile and headed outside.

"Get off that fuckin' bike," Merle was towering over a young boy, no more than ten years old. Boy's chin was shaking but he didn't seem to give up easily.

"What if I don't?"

"Then I will kick yer stupid ass, beat ya up and leave ya bleedin' in the woods," Merle replied without hesitation. A moment later he was carrying a bike under his arm and hid it into the garden shed.

Daryl felt stinging pain on his left cheek and his ear started buzzing. He went to kitchen to have something to drink and when he opened the fridge and bent down, he didn't notice his father standing in the corner.

Stupid mistake, Daryl was mad at himself for not noticing his father's arrival. Before he could think of anything else, his father grabbed the back of his favorite t-shirt and lifted him off the ground. Daryl hunched his head, awaiting another blow. He didn't have to wait long, a hard slap on the head made him shriek out.

"What the hell ya doin' down here? I told ya to work in the garden, didn't I?"

"It's all done!" Daryl dared to look into his father's eyes. Another mistake, he realized quickly as his father lifted his hand to deliver another slap.

"What the hell?" Merle's angry voice stopped the falling hand halfway and Daryl was dropped to the floor. He quickly got on all four and got out of the kitchen as fast as he could.

He was on the stairs leading to their room when the silence was replaced by angry shouting and dull sounds of fighting. He ran into their room and towards the window. He sat on the window sill and was anxiously watching the door. When he heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs, he slithered through the window and lie on the flat roof.

The door opened and Daryl sighed in relief when he heard his older brother's voice.

"Get out of there kid, it's over for today."

Merle frowned when he saw Daryl's tousled head peeping behind the window. The kid had an angry red imprint of their old man's hand all over his left cheek. That was it for a birthday present.

"Are ya all right Merle?"

"It's about time ya start worryin'about yer own ass lil' brother," Merle wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, "come here, I got somethin' to show ya."

"Curious lil' monkey, aren't ya?" Merle chuckled when Daryl jumped back in the room and was by his side in a second.

Merle opened the shed and looked at his brother, who was so excied that he couldn't stand still.

"Close yer eyes baby brother, let's do it right."

Daryl obediently crossed his skinny arms across his face.

Merle took out the bike and put it down in front of Daryl.

"Now ya can look."

When Daryl saw the bike, he was just staring at it, not moving for a while.

"What? Ya don't like the color ya ungrateful lil'…"

Before Merle could finish the sentence, Daryl jumped at him and threw his arms around his neck, burying his face into his older brother's chest.

"Thank ya Merle, this is the best birthday ever."

Merle wasn't sure what to do so he wrapped his arms around the boy's tiny body.

"Don't act like the girl for god sake, it's just a stupid bike," Merle cleared his throat.

Daryl lifted his head from Merle's chest and looked at him. Merle was taken aback by the seriousness in those young blue eyes.

"Ya are the best brother Merle. Thank you for everything."

Merle cursed as he felt the tears stinging in his eyes. He shook Daryl off and crouched down next to the boy.

"Look kid. I'm a shitty brother and it's not gonna get any better. I've got too much of our old man in me, he twisted me in a way ya'll never understand," Merle sighed and grabbed Daryl by his shoulders, "but ya are different baby brother, I see it in ya. Ya're smart, ya're kind and I know that ya can live much better life. Promise me ya will do everything ya can to get out of here and become a good man."

He watched tears rolling down Daryl's cheeks.

"Ya are a good man too, Merle."

Merle chuckled bitterly: "Ya'll have to make a decision one day, baby brother. Promise me ya'll make the right one, for both of us. And I promise I'll be protecting yer ass as long as I can."

Daryl nodded seriously and wiped his eyes: "I promise."

Merle smiled and patted boy's shoulder.

"Stop whining now and jump on that bike. Enjoy the ride, John's father will come to get it back sooner or later."

Daryl gave him a wide grin, looked at the bike admiringly once again, jumped on and rode away.

* * *

Merle felt his body going into shock and he was gratefully accepting it, the pain was becoming unbearable.

He gave the Governor one last look.

"Waiting for you in hell ya son of a bitch."

He saw the reflections from the polished gun dancing in the ray of light. How romantic. He chuckled and spat out some more blood.

Merle closed his eyes and smiled.

I did my best to keep my promise baby brother. Now you keep yours.

* * *

**So what do you think? Pathetic, affected? Couldn't help it after the episode.**

**I always try to look at the bright side of life - with Merle gone, they cannot kill off Carol and Daryl needs to come back to the group, right?**

**Mr. Rooker and Mr. Reedus, thank you, you rock!**


End file.

Walking Dead, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort