I own nothing! Everything belongs to Robert Kirkman and AMC.
Just a warning I know the punctuation is a little off. I've had to live with open office and let me tell you it SUCKS!
I speak like a Dixon therefore I write like one. There will be swearing. This chapter contains scenes with child abuse, and a few of the following chapters contain domestic abuse. There is also some violence in this story. If any of this bugs you, keep in mind that the scenes are short, because this is fanfic and thats how I want it god damn it. Other then that, don't read if you don't like!
Twenty four years ago
Buck Dixon stood shaking his head in the kitchen as he watched his wife walk away. What was wrong with Mary? She wasn't acting herself.
Buck sighed as he walked to the liquor cabinet. It had been a rough day at work, and argueing with Mary worried him. Buck definitly needed a drink.
As he threw back the whiskey, Buck looked up as his eldest came into the room.
"hey baby boy. What do ya want for dinner?"
Merle looked up at him questioningly. "ma ain't cookin'?"
Buck shook his head. "ya mama ain't feelin' so good. She went ta lay down. How about pizza? I'll order it after I check on Daryl."
Merle nodded. "pepperoni, but Daryl's asleep. We played for a long time today."
Buck smiled as he poured another drink. "good on ya son. That's ya baby brother there. Keep him close."
Twenty one years ago
Buck fell to the floor as he bathroom door shut behind him. For now they were in a hotel, until Buck could figure out what to do next.
She was gone. Mary was gone.
Buck sobbed as he leaned on to his knees. He knew he had screwed up, the last few years had taken a toll on his marriage, but buck never got a chance to fix it. How long had it been since he told Mary he loved her? Who does that? Doesn't tell his wife, the mother of his children, his soul mate; that he loved her.
A knock came to the door behind him. Buck stood, quickly wiping the tears from his face as he roughly opened the door.
Buck looked down to see Daryl staring up at him.
"daddy, when's mama comin'?"
Buck stared at his son for a moment before brushing past and walking to the bags on the bed, pulling his flask from one.
"mama ain't comin' Daryl. Mama's gone."
Ten years ago
Daryl winced as the door slammed shut. Dad was on a rampage again.
Daryl had long come to accept his father was a broken man. Ever since his wife's death, Buck Dixon had thrown himself into alcohol. And more recently, hard core drugs.
Daryl wondered what he was on this time, but wasn't going to risk finding out. All he had to do was stay quiet and hope Buck forgot he was there.
That wasn't happening that night.
D/C D/C D/C D/C D/C
Merle flew down the road, his new bike under him. He was lucky to get it in a poker game, a bike like this was way out of his price range. The military paid okay, but the money went to Daryl, to save up. The second he had enough, Merle was moving his baby brother to Atlanta with him. Merle knew Buck was getting worse. The last time Merle saw Daryl a month ago, the boy damn near couldn't move he was so bruised from the beatings he had been taking.
Merle had taken his fair share of beatings, but Buck was going mental. The memories of the caring dad from his childhood were long gone. Buck had come a long way since then.
As Merle pulled onto their street, a chill went thru him. Something was wrong.
Merle parked the bike next to Buck's in the driveway. As he shut off the engine, Merle heard it. Daryl, screaming in pain.
Merle ran thru the garage, throwing open the door to the kitchen. What he saw horrified Merle
Daryl was on the floor fighting as Buck straddled him. With one hand buck held Daryl down by his arms, with the other, he dragged the hunting knife across Daryl's chest. Blood was pouring from one gash as another formed over it. Daryl was covered in blood, his face and body a mass of injuries.
Merle growled as he threw himself at Buck, knocking the man across the room into the table. Merle looked to Daryl, who curled around himself on the floor, as Buck staggered to his feet.
"Great. The other asshole." Buck spat as he scratched at his elbow. Merle looked down, seeing the still bleeding needle marks, looking up to the reddened nose.
"Ya fucker! He's your own son!" Merle screamed, grabbing Buck by the throat and slamming him onto the table.
Buck fought against Merle as he held him down. Buck was bigger, but Merle was in military condition. Merle tightened his grip, throwing his body weight into a kick to Buck's abdomen. The hit was solid, and Buck chocked in Merle's grip. Merle let go with one hand, punching Buck a half dozen times to the face before letting go. Buck fell to the floor, chocking on blood and vomit. Merle kicked him in the stomach before grabbing Buck by the throat again, forcing his father to look at him.
"I'm takin' Daryl. And if ya even think about comin' after us, I'll fuckin' kill ya myself."
Merle dropped buck on the floor, before turning to Daryl, who had pulled himself up to a sit on the floor. Crouching next to his little brother, Merle got a good look at the deep gashes across his chest.
"Come on baby brother. Let's get ya fixed up."
Seven years ago
Buck ran his hand over his face as he lay on the hard bed. He thought prison couldn't get worse. That was until he landed himself in solitary. There was no where to run here, no drugs.
Buck itched for a high. He wasn't used to this, cold turkey. a year and a half into a three year trip to the big house and he got six months added to his sentence for being caught with drugs. Again.
Buck sighed. Life sucked. And it was his fault. He lost everything, and there was no one to blame but himself.
He failed to catch the postpartum depression that took Mary after she had Daryl. Buck allowed her to drink, to fold in on herself, just as he was. Mary died because Buck let go.
And his sons. God he had screwed up there. Buck missed his boys something awful, but couldn't blame them a bit. Buck knew he had done something bad the last time he had seen his sons. All he remembered from that night was doing a line of coke as he got home, then everything got blurry. Something about daryl, a knife and a lot of blood. The only thing buck remembered clearly was merle's threat. And he hadn't seen his sons since.
Buck felt a wave of nausea roll thru him. What ever he had done, he had pushed his sons to the limit. Merle was willing to do anything to protect Daryl. And what ever Buck had done to Daryl was bad enough to reach that limit.
The lights out call came out as the small cell was plunged into darkness. Buck rolled over to try and sleep. Time for more nightmares.
Five years ago
Merle quickly wiped his nose as the bell rang. Wouldn't due for a customer to catch him in the middle of his afternoon pick me up. God knows he needed it after the last three 60 hour weeks. Living in atlanta was expensive, plus the bill for when daryl had pneumonia was coming soon. Merle turned to the front of the shop, calling out as he went.
"Erickson garage, how can I...i thought I told ya ta stay the fuck away!" Merle growled as he realized who was standing infront of him.
Buck held up his hands as he walked towards his son. "I ain't here ta cause trouble."
Merle crossed his arms. "I told you ta stay the fuck away from me and daryl, or I would kill ya. Nothin' changed there."
Buck sighed as he stopped infront of Merle. "I'm clean now Merle. Have been for two years. Landed myself in prison, served my time. Got straightened out."
Merle growled as he leaned towards his father. "I don't give a fuck if you're a god damn priest now. Ya tried ta kill Daryl!"
Buck looked sadly at his son. "I'm sorry Merle. For everthin'. For your mama. For beatin' ya. For Daryl. I'm sorry."
Merle glared at buck.
"Sorry means nothin' ta me. You don't know the shit the last five years have been. Hell Daryl's only 21 and he works harder then most anyone else does in his life. Fuck he damn near died from pneumonia, he was too exhausted ta fight it off. He spent two weeks in the hospital after collapsing at work! Daryl had ta drop out of high school cause of you. I had ta leave the military, been workin' non-stop. Daryl too. But it's worse for the boy. Shit you fucked him up bad. Left him scarred. Ya know how hard it is ta even get him ta look at women, let alone sleep with one? You fucked him up so bad he ain't willin' ta let anyone close!"
Buck whinced as he listened to Merle. "i'm sorry Merle. I fucked up. I've been fuckin' up for the last 20 years."
Merle snorted, walking away from Buck. "Ya think I don't know that? Get the fuck out of here. Ya ain't wanted."
Buck sighed, grabbing a card from beside the cash register. "only if ya make a deal with me."
Merle growled from his spot at the door way. "just say what ya want and get out of my fuckin' sight."
Buck stopped infront of his son. "i'll go, but i'll be callin' every couple months. Just checkin' up. I'll leave ya two alone, but give me that."
Merle swore before he hissed at his father. "if it'll get you to fuck off sure. But ya ain't talkin' ta Daryl. Don't need ya ta fuck the kid up more!"
Buck nodded. "alright. I'll call in a few months. Take care of him, please. I know ya don't believe it, but I love you two. Just be careful."
Buck turned and walked away before Merle could respond. As the door slammed shut, Merle growled and kicked the wall. Damn it, he needed another pick me up.
Daryl groaned as his phone went off. It was two am for fucks sack! Who was calling him now?!
"What?!" Daryl spat in his phone.
Daryl calmed when he heard a soft sweet voice. "I'm sorry for calling so late, but this is Carol Peletier, Ed's wife. Merle is here, and well... he needs a ride home."
Daryl groaned. "God damn it. Fuck, okay, i'll be there in ten minutes."
the quiet woman on the phone replied. "alright. Thank you. I'm sorry for calling so late."
Daryl sat up on his bed. "ain't ya fault. My dumb ass brother. See ya soon."