Nox: Love you guys (and your reviews) for being here, really do. This chapter will appease all of the Merle fans out there though, I promise. Thank you letmefallasleep and BrazenHussy. Raylene and this story sort of go nowhere without you guys, haha.

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

Ghost

Months Earlier…

"Ya know what they say," he muttered, the heat swarmin' him, sweat tricklin' down his face. A fly was buzzin' round his head but he couldn't see the thing to swat it away.

"Karma's a mothafuckin' slut." He laughed, head tippin' to the side, back and forth. "She worth the fuck ya paid fer?"

His eyes closed, and he breathed deep. He lifted up the stump, cracking his eyes open, and smirked. "Shit, only til ya git the clap."

He'd wrapped the stump in a shirt, somethin' he'd found lyin' in the bed a the truck when he'd gotten there. Shit was tight. Pulled an' burned, an' felt like he wanted to cut it off again. Couldn't even tell if it stopped bleedin' or not.

What he wouldn't give for his fuckin' stash right then. To lose himself in the free-fallin' high an' to not know what the hell was goin' on. What he wouldn't give to forget.

"Can't forget."

Merle didn't even turn to the voice at his side. Ignored it like he'd been doin' the entire drive here. Kept tellin' himself it weren't there, weren't real, weren't him.

"Goin' back there?" Merle laughed as his vision swam, the road before him lookin' like it just went on an' on, like a big black belt. He fuckin' hated belts. Hated everything they fuckin' stood fer, everything they reminded him of.

"Ya know it ain't home. Home's with me." Merle whirled then, lockin' eyes with a face he hadn't seen in years. He reached out to grab him by the neck but couldn't. Didn't have no goddamn hand no more. He cursed, slamming his arm against the truck bed, and then he cursed again as pain shot up his arm.

"Fuck," he growled out.

Daryl looked down at the stump, quiet, and then back up at him. Couldn't believe his fuckin' eyes. Couldn't believe he was lookin' in the face of a teenage Daryl. Eyes still bluer than he'd ever seen'em.

"Course, ya never did stay with me," Daryl murmured, turning to face the windshield, slouching in his seat. He brought his knees up on the seat, tight against his chest. Merle could remember all the times he'd watched Daryl, all the times he'd seen his little brother sittin' like that. Daryl was always tryin' to bury the shit inside himself, tryin' to find that hole to disappear into.

Merle hated it.

"I couldn't," Merle ground out, tryin' to focus on the face of his little brother. And then Merle watched as blood blossomed on Daryl's lip, and a bruise appeared on his face.

"No, no," he muttered, shaking his head. How many times had he fought to protect Daryl? How many times had he taken those hurts and pains onto hisself just so Daryl wouldn't have to know'em?

"Don't mean I didn't pay fer it," Daryl whispered hoarsely. Merle felt his throat tighten, watching Daryl's face mottle up with bruises, burn marks show up on his arms, his shoulders slowly beginning to cave further in.

Merle knew he'd made fuckin' mistakes. He'd done things he couldn't take back. He'd left when he shouldn't have. He was one, big, fucking mistake and there weren't nothin' he could change bout that now.

"Daryl, I didn't want-" And then Daryl was gone. Nothin' in the seat next to him, nothin' on the road. He was alone again. Nothin' to keep him company, nothin' to talk to him. He'd been alone his whole damn, and now it weren't no damn different.

He was always alone.

Merle sat back, silent for a moment. Watched a piece of paper tumble across the road as the wind drifted through the open window. Felt fuckin' good on his face, as the sweat dripped down his nose, hovered on his lashes.

Sweat goddammit, coz it weren't nothin' but sweat and he sure as hell weren't lettin' it be nothin' but sweat. Coz Dixons didn't fuckin' cry.

Fuck if his eyes didn't burn. He couldn't even find the strength to wipe it away.

And then he laughed, high, uncontrollable, until his throat was raw and he couldn't stay conscious no more.

XXX

"Merle." Merle groaned, holdin' onto the darkness for a bit longer. Darkness didn't hurt. "Merle," the voice called with more urgency. He felt somethin' shake his shoulder, and he tipped over till he dropped against the door-frame.

"Fuckin' touch me!" he barked, swingin' out with his arm, head dizzy. When he opened his eyes, he found he couldn't see straight so he just closed'em again. Everything was just swimmin'.

"Gotta go Merle," Daryl whispered desperately next to him. He cracked an eye open, took in the sight of his brother, just a kid now, lookin' out the windshield. Kid looked like hell, looked he was ready to run. Face gaunt, gangly limbs, legs that never stopped movin'. Kid never sat still. Course, Merle couldn't blame him. Ya got to be pretty fast when ya didn't know where the next hit was comin' from. Ya never stopped watchin' for it.

"Can't go," he croaked out, unable to keep his eye open. Didn't have the strength to do nothin', let alone move. He let his head fall back, listenin' to Daryl shift beside him. Kid was nervous.

"But he's comin' Merle," Daryl whispered, so low that Merle wasn't sure he'd heard him. He snorted. He knew exactly who Daryl was talkin' bout, an' hell if was gonna run an' hide with his tail tucked 'tween his legs like some goddamn pussy. He'd faced that old motherfucker a thousand times before, and he'd face him a thousand more times to come. Wouldn't let no fuckin' wasted, old shit scare him off. Not when Daryl was right there, scared as all hell, and beggin' for him.

"If he's comin' then he's comin' fer me," he forced out. He was thirsty as fuck. Needed a goddamn drink. Hell, he could use a tall glass a somethin' cold. First time he'd ever thought he'd take water without complaint.

"But Merle-" Daryl whined, sounding scared. Merle didn't like hearin' that in his voice. Never wanted to hear his brother sound like that; like he was so scared and there was nothin' that could change that.

He could change that. Merle had always tried to be there, when he was. Maybe he hadn't always but dammit if he hadn't tried his fuckin' best. Just didn't know how to do that was all.

"Shut up Daryl. I'll take care a it." He weren't gonna let nothin' happen to Daryl. Not long as he was there. He felt Daryl shift closer to him, his small hands fidgeting next to him.

"Ya will?" He opened his eyes at the sound a that voice. The one that sounded so small and weak and made him want to do all the fucked up things he knew he could to they ol' man. The stuff he never actually did. He hated himself for that. Hated that he never actually took care a they ol' man like he shoulda.

He put his arm round Daryl and pulled him close, smilin' down at him, weakly.

"Course I will, lil brother," he muttered, feelin' his eyes drift shut, a smile still on his face. "Always take care a ya." Always tried, he thought to himself miserably.

He drifted off into blackness to the sound of Daryl's voice followin' him.

"Can't do somethin' ya don't wanna."

XXX

"Git the fuck up Merle." He was fuckin' tired of bein' yelled at. Tired of bein' woken up, tired of bein' thirsty, tired of his goddamn arm hurtin'.

"Shut the fuck up Darylina." He tried to swallow but couldn't. He opened his eyes, looked around the truck for somethin', anything to drink and came up short.

"Goddammit!" He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, hitting the horn. The sound tore through his head and he curled into himself, hand clamped over one ear, groaning.

"Dumbass." He didn't even have the strength to fight back. Just opened his eyes.

He was shit outta luck. He was gonna die, out here, in the middle a nowhere. He didn't even know where here was, didn't know where he'd been headed. Just started drivin'. He'd been a the mind to head back fer Daryl, tell him they was gettin' their shit and gettin' out.

He weren't gonna stay with them goddamn uppity city fucks that thought he was trash. And he weren't gonna leave Daryl behind neither.

But somehow he'd ended up out here. Drove himself through some haze. Drove himself on and on with the thought that Daryl already was with him. How fuckin' stupid was he? How fucked in the head had he been? Daryl was always tellin' him not to get too fucked up.

Fuckin' Darylina.

"I told ya not take the backroads," Daryl said next to him, lookin' smug. The growl slipped passed his lips, weak and pathetic.

"The hell ya mean backroads?" Daryl waved to the woods next to them, just a few yards off the road. Suddenly, shit was startin' to look familiar.

"Yer the dumbass who told me you knew how to git home," Daryl said smartly. And then Merle took a good look at the road, at the mile marker, at the goddamn mountains rising up ahead of him. He was a dumbass. Fuckin' shit for brains.

"Fuck!" Daryl just stared at him, silent, unmoving. Like he knew exactly what had happened. Like some smart-ass.

"Fuck! FUCK!" He was a goddamn idiot. He was fuckin' stupid. What the hell had he been thinkin' when he got to drivin' yesterday?

He slammed his head against the steering wheel and let everything spin. He hadn't been thinkin' that was what.

"Fuck," he gritted out, softer this time. He was fuckin' stupid. He was stupid fer thinkin' he could drive in this state. Fuckin' stupid for thinkin' he could do anything like this. Fuckin' stupid for ever leavin' Daryl behind to begin with.

"Got yer head on straight now?" Merle looked at him, felt the anger boil inside, and watched as Daryl leaned away slowly.

"You did this to me," he said, dangerous, low, feeling all the shit come down around him. His chest was gettin' too tight fer him to breathe. He was done for, and he was fucked, and it fuckin' hurt because Daryl wasn't even here and he was fuckin' hallucinatin' his little brother! How fuckin' desperate was he?

"You did this to me!" Merle roared. Daryl just shook his head, opening up the passenger door to climb out and slammin' it shut behind him. He stood outside, lookin' in through the window. His eyes burned bright, bluer than the sky on a cloudless day when the sun was at its highest. Merle wanted to turn away from those blue eyes, filled with so many years of pain, and hatred, and suffering. Years of suffering that he'd done nothing to stop. Years of suffering that he'd escaped from himself.

He hated himself for that. Carried that guilt like the scars on his back; forever a part of him and ugly.

"Did this to yaself brother," Daryl said calmly, eyes fixed to him. Blaming him. Hating him.

He blinked the sweat from his eyes, the goddamn sweat coz it weren't nothin' but sweat, and he were about to bitch Daryl out fer blaming him fer anything when all he'd ever tried to do was keep his shit straight. Tried to do the best he could in that fucked up situation. And when his eyes opened again, he was gone.

"Daryl?" he croaked hoarsely. Weren't nothin' around. He was alone.

Daryl was gone, like some ghost. He'd never been there to begin with had he.

But Daryl was always gone. He'd never been able to keep Daryl with him. When he were a kid, when he'd come home from the Marines, when they'd gotten old. He was always losin' his brother one way or the other.

And now he had nothin'. There weren't nothin' for him. No geeks. No humans. The road stretched on in the distance, the heat waves rollin' off the black top. And the trees to his left sat like sentries, still, not even a breeze to coax them to life.

Why was it so fuckin' hot?

"Merle-" he turned to the voice, gun raised and fired. No hesitation.

Blood spattered inside the truck, and the body fell to the ground. He was breathing heavy, lids closin' faster than he could think.

"Shit," he muttered. He didn't even think about it. Somebody had called his damn name, and what'd he do? Shot the damn bastard.

"Daryl?" Nothin'. Not a goddamn answer. Just the silence he'd been sittin' in all this time, the silence that ate at him. "Daryl!" But he didn't answer him.

"Fuck!" What if he just shot Daryl? What if he just shot the only person he'd cared bout in this whole fuckin' world? What if he killed the only person who gived a fuckin' damn about him? He let his arm fall to the door, the gun hanging out the window.

He slammed his the gun against his head, once, twice and then groaned in pain. It hurt, it fuckin' hurt like hell, but it weren't nothin' to the pain in his chest.

He was done. He was fuckin' done. Didn't have the strength for nothin' no more. He didn't even know who he shot, an' fer all he fuckin' knew it could a been Daryl, an' now he was dead all coz he couldn't keep his fuckin' shit together.

"Goddammit!" he cried letting his head fall against the steering wheel, feeling the sweat roll down his back.

He was a dead man. Weren't no way he was gonna make it nowhere. Weren't no way he was ever gonna survive without Daryl. Without Daryl, he had nothin'. Without Daryl he was nothin'. Just some washed up, used, ol' Marine who couldn't stop usin' an' who couldn't stop bein' a monster to the only person who mattered.

If Daryl weren't in this world no more then he didn't have shit to live for in this world.

He was done.

He felt the gun slide through his fingers, and the door slip open.

"The hell?" he muttered weakly as he tipped to the side, unable to hold his body up any longer, not carin' too, as his vision blurred. Weren't nothin' he could do bout it now. If he was gonna die, he was gonna die fightin'.

Sonuvabitch slipped into his view an' he grabbed'em by the neck, chokin'em. Couldn't see straight but he could tell it was just a little shit. Hand closed over that neck easy, fingers curlin' tight.

"Hold on Cowboy," they gasped out. The fuck? He just hear that right?

He uncurled his fingers slightly, tried to focus his eyes. Nobody called him that. Fuckin' nobody. Hell, only one person could git 'way with that shit. He could just make out all that red hair. Searched for the face, an' stared.

"Well twist ma balls, an' stroke me twice," he croaked out, not believin' what he was seein'. She smirked, as her hands clutched at his arm.

"Wanna let me go, sweet thing?" He didn't miss the way her voice caught on the end as she gasped out for breath, her fingers clutching his arm tighter.

He wanted to say somethin', was about to cuss her out, wanted to kiss the fuck outta those beautiful lips. Couldn't pick which one he wanted to do, or if wanted to do all three. But he didn't get to do shit as he dropped back into the sweet blackness.

A/N: Updates will be when I get to'em, sorry folks. Lots of other ficlets on my plate. Thank you for all the love!