Wrong

Prologue

Merle sighed and put out his cigarette, glancing around before pushing himself off of the wall. "C'mon baby brudder. Let's get ya home 'fore Pa gets pissed." He mumbled, resting a hand on Daryl's shoulder and guiding him to Merle's beat up white truck. Daryl hopped into the passenger side and pulled down the sun visor, flipping the mirror open. The little light flickered on as Merle started the car, the engine roaring to life. Daryl assessed the damage, noting all of the little details. His young skin was stained in crimson, and the hair by his ear was matted with blood. His nose wasn't crooked, so it wasn't broken. His left temple was developing a bruise, but that could be covered up with a little bit of makeup. Thank god. Apart from that, the only serious injury he had was a black eye that was surely going to attract attention the next morning. He'd have fun explaining that to the school counselor.

"Fuck man, did ya have to give me a shiner?" Daryl muttered, flipping the sun visor back up. He leaned back, not even bothering with the seat belt.

Merle scoffed. "You'll live."

"School's gonna flip." He muttered, sighing. Great. Now Will was going to get another call from the school because they were "concerned for our student's safety". All that ever achieved was a smack and maybe a punch. They caused more damage than they fixed.

Merle rolled his eyes. "Schools are bullshit. They don' teach ya anythin' useful. Jus' the stupid shit like 'don't do drugs' or 'don't drink alcohol' or 'don't have sex'. 'S all bullshit. Hell I bet if they never mentioned drugs half the kids doin' 'em wouldn'ta known what the hell they were."

Daryl chuckled. "Yeah. And why're they tellin' 10 year olds not to do drugs? All it does is make 'em curious."

Merle laughed and drove out of the parking lot. "Right? Instead of tellin' lil kids not to smoke, use that time to teach taxes or summin'."

"Right?" Daryl chuckled. He smiled softly, leaning against the window. He enjoyed these times with Merle, even if he was a complete asshole. His smile faded after a moment, though. Merle was his older brother by 10 years, him being 27 while Daryl was 17. He glanced over at his older brother, who was chewing his thumbnail while staring at the empty road. "When're we gettin' outta here?" He asked softly, breaking the silence.

Merle paused, stopping at a stoplight. He removed his nail from his mouth and shifted in his seat, straightening up. Merle had promised a long time ago that when he got a house, he was taking Daryl away from Will Dixon and that trashy trailer park. Daryl couldn't help but get excited over that prospect pitched to him when he was 13, but that was four years ago. Was Merle still planning on saving him? Did he even know how bad Will Dixon was now?

Merle shrugged a little bit. "Gettin' a house takes time, baby brudder-" oh, here we go again.

Daryl scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning against the window. "Whatever." He growled. That was the same excuse Merle had used a hundred times before, and he still hadn't done jack shit about it. Daryl stared at the sidewalk, his eyes starting to sting. He'd tried getting jobs in the past, but who'd want to hire the infamous Will Dixon's youngest son? He could always get into drug dealing, Merle seemed to make enough money to afford his own drugs. It didn't seem that bad, ignoring the legal issues of it all. He could make a living on it until he found an actual job. Yeah, then he could get his own house away from Will Dixon.

"Hey, it'll happen. Ya just have to wait a lil longer." Merle insisted, continuing forward and down the highway.

Daryl sighed and glanced at the dashboard, groaning at how late it was. Almost midnight. Yeah, his dad was going to be pissed.