Nox: This is a companion piece to Blue Eyes - my fic where Daryl faces the thing that was once his brother. Iff you've not seen the episode 'This Sorrowful Life' you shall be spoiled. As that stands, I have no words for AMC. I'm utterly devastated by such a move. My feelings had to write this.

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

The Last Time

He couldn't believe he was havin' a 'come ta Jesus' moment.

Couldn't believe he'd let the black bitch go either. All coz he'd had some goddamn attack a conscious. He weren't no damn righteous man. Didn't have no soul. He was a monster. He didn't want the prison bunch ta think he were some fuckin' devil but he weren't foolin' nobody. Not even hisself.

He were a devil. He were born from the devil. Raised from the devil. Couldn't be nothin' but a devil.

Weren't no redeemin' him. Weren't no savin' him now. He'd done too many fucked up things to make it right.

But fuck if he didn't want to try.

He laughed, the sound harsh an' mocking to his own ears as he took a pull on the whiskey he'd managed to find in the corner store. Tasted fuckin' good as it burned slow. What he wouldn't a given fer a high. Hell, what he wouldn't give fer just another fuckin' drink with his brother.

"Come on lil' brother," he crooned, holding the whiskey out toward Daryl.

"Just a taste," he whispered, shaking it, watching as the amber liquid swirled. Daryl just watched him, blue eyes still. He hated that. Hated how much they looked like they Ma's. He always looked like they Ma.

He couldn't stand that.

"Fine," he grumbled, takin' another pull. "Suit yaself." It burned goin' down his throat, but he loved the feelin' it left behind. Like it cleared everything away.

"Don't know what ya missin'," he continued, leanin' back in the chair, head goin' back. He took in the night sky, stars shinin' bright. He'd finally come back home, an' he wanted to celebrate. Guess Daryl weren't so eager. Somehow, he couldn't really blame him.

"Just wanted to have a drink with ma little brother," he muttered hoarsely, the bottle hanging precariously from his fingertips. He knew comin' back would be a chance. He'd left fer a long fuckin' time, but now that the ol' man was dead?

Hell, he'd been gone away from Daryl long enough. He had to come back, no matter how Daryl felt.

The bottle slipped from his fingers an' he looked up. Daryl lifted it to his lips an' took a swallow, wincin' a little. He chuckled an' reached up to slap Daryl on the shoulder.

"Brothers," he laughed harshly into the darkness, and tore the bottle from Daryl's hands, takin' another long drag.

Didn't matter though. He knew he had to go. Had to do this fer Daryl.

Glad he didn't have the black bitch ramblin' in his ear no more. Needed the fuckin' space to hisself. Needed this moment to know that it was gonna be his choice.

She had an awful lot to say bout family, an' choices, an' bein' a bad man with this fuckin' weight on his shoulders. She didn't know the kind a weight he had on his shoulders. Didn't know what he'd done to survive this world and the last. Didn't know why he couldn't go back to the people his little brother called family.

She didn't know why that hurt like a sonuvabitch but he couldn't do nothin' but protect it anyway.

"Merle!" He kept movin', through the trees, swattin' away the flies that kept buzzin' round his head. Kept pushin' away the pain that kept pulsin' in his head, an' his shoulders an' his chest.

Didn't want Daryl to see this, didn't want Daryl to see what the bastard had done to him.

"Merle wait up!" He stumbled over a branch, nearly fell on his face, an' had to stop to catch his breath.

"Fuck!" He held himself up, breathin' hard. Felt the slick, warmth trickle down his chest. And every time he took a shuddering breath, his chest expandin', his skin pinched painfully. Shit fuckin' hurt.

"Merle." Daryl's voice came from behind him, too close. He didn't turn round, else Daryl would see.

"Merle, the hell's goin' on?" He heard the snap a the branches beneath Daryl's feet as he approached him.

"Don't fuckin' come near me!" He swung his arm behind him, wardin' Daryl off but regrettin' it. He pulled the skin across his chest, an' screamed out. He spun on his heels, an' fell on his ass. He leaned back on his elbows, eyes squeezed tight against the pain.

But nothin' happened.

He cracked open an eye and saw Daryl standin' next to him, starin' down at his chest, eyes hard, lips pinched together.

"He do that to ya?" His hands were shakin' at his side, an' Merle sighed. He smacked Daryl across the leg and chuckled. Sounded forced even to him.

"Hell you know me, lil brother," he laughed, falling on his back, suckin' in a breath. He'd forgotten the wounds there. He closed his eyes tight, an' tried to breath. "Just clumsy is all. Tumbled down the hill," he muttered breathlessly.

Fuckin' stupid ass lie, but he weren't gonna tell Daryl what had really happened. How the fuck you explain to a kid that ya daddy takes ya by the neck an' forces ya to the ground, and cuts ya up with the kitchen knife? Like it was some fuckin' game? All while he threatens to cut up ya lil brother if ya don't do what he says.

No he weren't gonna tell Daryl nothin' but a lie. Even if he didn't believe him.

Fingers ghosted across the slashes on his chest. His eyes flew open.

"I know ya lyin' Merle," Daryl whispered softly, eyes distant. He didn't even have the strength to stop Daryl from touchin' him. One a these days he were gonna kill the ol' man, if he didn't leave first.

Fuck he couldn't do that.

Couldn't kill the ol' man an' he couldn't leave. He didn't know which would win first though.

"Ya don't know shit, lil' brother," he coughed out, an' closed his eyes against the pain as Daryl sat on the ground beside him.

"Whatever you say Merle," he whispered softly.

Daryl had done a lot a shit fer him, did whatever he'd say. Kid used to follow him whenever he was home. Used to do what he said. Even if that meant hidin' his coke out in the backyard, or findin' some bimbo's clothes when she were lyin' passed out on the floor naked. Hell, Daryl had even come lookin' fer him when the goddamn walkers were eatin' people right in their own little fucked up town, an' he'd landed his ass in the slammer. Again. Daryl could a left his ass there, an' gone an' made his own way. But he'd come back fer him.

Lil' brother was good fer that.

Daryl was always lookin' fer him, had always been at his side. 'Specially in the beginning. He knew as shit went on that he'd gotten worse, weren't a good brother no more. But in the beginning?

He'd been different.

"Take yer brother outside," she said absently, fingering the slim. She'd been smokin' more than usual, an' he didn't like the way the bottles started to stack on the porch out back. Daddy weren't takin'em to the trash an' one a these days it was gonna be his fuckin' problem.

So he just picked Daryl up off the floor an' hauled him outside, through the yard, passed the forgotten tractor, passed the old trashcan where the coon was rustling around in it, and into the trees.

Daryl just held onto his shirt tightly, quiet. He'd gotten that way since he was old enough to figure out what was what in the house. His blue eyes took in everything around him. He was a smart little bastard, always watchin', always quiet.

Would a been a real smart kid, would a been treated right if he'd been in a good family.

He made his way to their regular place, an' put him down, his bare feet hittin' the soft grass. He knew the area, an' he knew Daryl recognized it too. They Ma was always comin' out here, smokin' her slims, drinkin' her wine.

Daryl held onto his pant leg, lookin' round. He glanced up at him, his blue eyes searchin'.

"Git," he urged, as he pulled the pack a smokes outta his pocket and lit one. He took a deep drag, lettin' the smoke curl in his lungs, the ashy taste settle on his tongue. Daryl toddled off, his thin legs carryin' him far. Boy would be good in the woods, would be a good hunter. Had a good sense on him.

He sat down, back to the tree, an' reached over to pull out the beer he kept there just for these kinds a occasions. Mama was always tellin' them to git. He learned real quick to find ways to keep hisself occupied. Weren't old enough to drink nowhere else so he had to do it out here. He liked that better anyway.

He looked up to see Daryl starin' at him, eyes focused.

"Fuck you lookin' at boy?" Daryl didn't move, didn't blink. Just kept starin'.

"Merle." Most times, he didn't know what the fuck Daryl were talkin' bout. Most times, kid was just fuckin' weird.

He just snorted an' took another drink. Just better to ignore the kid when he didn't know what the fuck to make a him. But Daryl toddled over to him, his legs gettin' stronger the closer he got. He stopped at Merle's side, face set, holding a goddamn stick in his one hand.

Kid didn't have no toys coz Dixons didn't play.

And then he placed his small hand on his shoulder, and the feeling made Merle uneasy.

A smile tipped up Daryl's lips then, small and slight. He'd never seen a thing on his brother's face before. Not since he were a baby, a thing that didn't know which way were up and down.

"Merle safe," he babbled, dropping to his butt at Merle's side, fiddling with the stick, stabbing one end into the ground.

"Brother keeps me safe," he finished, looking up at Merle with his solid blues.

He'd known Daryl were smart. But this was somethin' different. This was what it felt like to be a big brother.

He pulled the stick out a Daryl's hands and tossed it away. "What are ya, a goddamn dog?" And then he reached out, ruffling Daryl's hair, hesitantly.

"Woof," Daryl mocked, and Merle couldn't help that his lips tilted up.

And now? Little brother went an' found hisself a goddamn family. Found hisself a good one. All this time he'd been wishin' that Daryl could a had things differently, could a had a different life. Could a found someone to love, people to love him. People to respect him, people to trust him.

He wanted Daryl to be wanted.

And then he'd gone an' done that. He'd found people who looked after him. People who had his back, who needed him, who came lookin fer him when he was in trouble.

His little brother. Made him fuckin' proud.

Course, he'd always wanted to be a part a that too.

But he'd made his bed. He weren't gonna let Daryl fall with him.

Now, he were here, fightin' off the motherfucker who'd cause his little brother a world a hurt if he didn't do somethin' bout it. He'd made some fucked up choices in the past, but now was his chance to do somethin' with it.

All he had to do was try.

Should a known when he'd come by hisself though that he would a been cornered. Course, maybe he had. He didn't want Daryl here, didn't want Daryl to die. He would always take care a Daryl. That was his job. He hadn't done much right in his fucked up life, but if there was one thing he could count on, it was that he could take care a Daryl. Even if he could fuck that up too.

But this time, he was gonna make sure his baby brother got to keep the family he'd found. Even if that meant he wasn't a part a it.

"I ain't gonna beg. I ain't begging you!" Even if that meant he weren't there no more. Even if it meant he weren't never gonna see Daryl ever again. Maybe it was fer the best.

"No." And he couldn't feel no more, not even as the bullet went through his chest. His body was broken, an' he could feel the life just goin'.

He knew he'd done the right thing. He'd made the right choice. He didn't have no place with those people. His brother needed them, more than he needed him. He'd done what he could to help'em out, to do what he could. Would have to be enough.

"Better take care a me next," he coughed out, blood poolin' in his mouth. Couldn't stop hisself from becomin' one a them fuckin' things, but he knew Daryl would come fer him. Didn't want Daryl to have ta do that, but it was the last thing he'd have to do fer him.

"Just one…more," he garbled out. He was supposed to take care a Daryl. That was his job, was the promise he'd made hisself when he went back home. But this was the last time. The last time his little brother would ever have to do anything fer his sorry ass.

Coz this was it. There weren't nothin' left a him.

Nothin' left but the feelin' of his brother's hand against his shoulder, and the breath ghostin' passed his lips.

"I just want my brother back."

He just wanted to hear Daryl call his name, one last time, like he used to when he were a kid. Like Daryl used to love him before shit got messed up.

"Just wanted ya too little brother."

That was all he wanted.

One last time.

I won't be there, I'm not that strong
Holding these memories, I feel unfolding
This is the last time
Now I'm gone