Noxi: Oh my kittens, I am so sorry that I left you alone for so long. But this here is my guarantee that I have not abandoned my boys. I am still with them, still here to write their story. And I hope you're still here with me too.

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

Hands

"Hey Merle," Daryl said, feeling stupid as he sat there at his brother's feet. Merle didn't say nothin', and the silence was uncomfortable.

The silence made him anxious.

He looked back at the house, their new house. Nothin' more than a box, not meant for two people. The bathroom was an ugly white, the toilet seat missing and the sink tarnished, nearly falling off. The fridge didn't work and they didn't have a couch so they sat of the floor or the folding chairs. It weren't new, but it was the new one they'd moved into since Ma…

He swallowed that back and turned to look at Merle again, watching as he leaned so far back in the old folding chair it looked as if he was gonna fall out.

Merle wouldn't go into the new house, so Merle slept outside most days. Usually he got drunk or high or both. Usually Daryl stayed with him, if Merle weren't in a mood. But sometimes, Merle wouldn't let him, and he'd have to go back into that house and sleep on the few blankets he'd managed to find for himself. He'd made a pile of them on the floor and that's where he slept. He weren't sure when he were gonna get a bed again, but he weren't gonna ask.

Not while the ol' man was like this.

"Merle," he said again, more urgent as the anxiety got heavier on his chest, "you ain't…" he swallowed hard, "you ain't gonna leave me like Ma did, are ya?"

Cos Ma, she had left him. She had left him and she was never gonna come back. She'd taken everything from them, even herself, and there weren't nothin' they could do bout that.

And he hated her for that.

Merle was still quiet. He didn't think Merle was gonna say anything as he watched him take another drag on his cigarette, the gray smoke curling around his face. But he still had to ask. He still needed to get it off his chest.

Cos a part a him wanted Merle to say somethin' back. Even if Merle lied. Cos he couldn't stand the chance that Merle would leave him too. Forever.

Alone.

And then Merle laughed, deep and throaty, tossing his head back. Something Daryl had never heard before. Merle had never laughed like 'fore, least not that Daryl had ever seen.

It was the most honest expression he'd ever seen on Merle's face.

And then Merle looked at him, and reached out, grabbing hold of him and dragging him beneath his sweating, stinking arm. Daryl was pinned there, as Merle's pale arm hair tickled his face and the smell worked its way up his nose.

But it didn't even matter. He looked up at Merle and had to choke back the sudden swelling in his throat.

"Course I ain't," Merle rasped, squeezing him once before pushing him away again. Daryl stumbled.

He watched as Merle drowned the rest of his whiskey as his blue-gray eyes latched onto him, watching him closely. He hoped he hadn't made Merle mad.

"Ain't goin' nowhere lil brother. Ya know I take care a yer ass," he said, chuckling softly, eyes glazing over. He leaned back again in the old fold-out, head tipping back to the look once more up at the midnight sky.

Daryl looked up as well, remembering those stars, those wishes and tried to find his.

"You an' me," Merle murmured, as his hand fell, dangling to the side and he drifted off to sleep.

Daryl watched as Merle slept, the soft snores filtering through the noise of the night and the crackling of the small fire slowly dying out. And then a moment of panic slipped through him.

What if Merle did leave him? What if Merle never came back, was never there for him, ever again?

What if, just like Mama, Merle died and left him all alone?

Forever?

The feeling of loss and hopelessness, the same feeling he'd felt when he'd seen that fire consuming his house and his Ma was still inside, swallowed him.

His hand shot out, gripping Merle's softly, fingers wrapping instinctively around his. And he gripped tight, not wanting to let go, feeling every scar and nick, the pulse of his brother's blood pumping in his grasp.

It was an impulse, a split decision, a reaction. Something he hadn't felt since his Ma, and even she never held his hand much. But he couldn't help it.

It hurt. His chest hurt. Thinking of being alone, without Merle.

He looked up, slowly, hesitating, waiting for Merle to wake up and jerk him off, smack his hand away, yell at him for bein' a pussy.

But Merle didn't wake up.

Merle's hand was big in his, rough and comforting. He couldn't ever remember holding Merle's hand, cos that didn't fly with Merle. He didn't do that pussy stuff. But those hands, his brother's hands, were the most important thing.

They'd kept the ol' man away, they'd never let him suffer when he didn't have to. Merle did the hard stuff so he wouldn't have too. That's why his hands were so rough.

They'd saved him.

He curled his knees to his chest and leaned against Merle's chair, his hand still in Merle's as he listened to his steady breathing. And for once, since his Mama had burned the house down and died, shit felt right again. His chest didn't hurt so bad.

He glanced at his hand in Merle's, small and insignificant. And then he saw Merle's, big and scarred. Those hands were him an' Merle. Scarred, worn, and beaten. Unloved, and uncared for.

And then he thought of Ma, telling him bout wishes. Remembering his wish.

Daryl wanted to laugh at himself, but knew all along, that he was just a stupid lil shit fer ever believin' her.

"I know why they called wishes Ma," Daryl whispered looking back up at the sky, still holdin' to Merle's hand. "Cos they don't come true. They just dumb hopes that ya know ya want but can never have."

He closed his eyes, remembering his Ma's faraway look as she stared at those stars, her eyes always seeking out what she could never have. Was she planning on leavin' them? Was that her plan all along? Did she ever love them to begin with?

"You were never gonna love him," he murmured, gripping tighter to Merle's hand. "Never loved me neither," he whispered.

But for some reason, it didn't matter. Didn't matter long as he had Merle, right there with him. Cos he knew Merle would take care a him.

He knew Merle was gonna be there. Merle wasn't always good, and he weren't all bad either. But he were there. He kept comin' back.

"You an' me," he whispered back to Merle, as he drifted off to sleep. "Always."

And for a moment, he thought he felt Merle's fingers tighten just the slightest in his.

A/N: So I got a very bit distracted by my new Caryl AU. If anyone's interested it's titled The Heart of Sky Country (yes I know, a small plug for myself).

Thank you all so much for coming back. I took a very long hiatus from my boys (but now that the TWD is back I think that so am I!) and I am so grateful for you all returning. Any comments are greatly appreciated. I love you all!