This is something I thought I would never do, a song-fic... it's going to be a one-shot and I hope I'm not too badly judged for it, I'm going to try and fit the lyrics into the story rather than make them super obvious. This is sad, actually, so please don't read if it's a topic that bothers you.
So walking dead and ed sheeran. Nothing belongs to me, except my ghost busters t-shirt.
They had run together. Run-away simply because neither of them had anyone else to worry about. And so he pulled over branches, through trees and down steep dips in the forest. And the whole time he had heard her small panting breaths beside him, reassuring him that he wasn't alone, he still had part of his fragmented family. It took a week before they found somewhere to stay, both exhausted from lack of sleep, dehydration and hunger. They had lived off what they could, but neither could call themselves prepared, everything had been lost. Beth stepped into the living room and laughed in insane relief, throwing herself onto sofa in an attempt to rest. Daryl couldn't deny her this joy, despite the million things they had to do to secure the house, especially when she had that small smile playing on her lips.
Dinner that night was comfortably silent, Beth wasn't a particularly loud person and neither was he. Occasionally, one of them would start a conversation, let it die naturally and go back to whatever they were doing, so was their way. And it was something Daryl liked about this girl, she unknowingly fitted into that impossible spot of not annoying him, just letting him be like none else did.
Dressed in soft cotton shorts and a giant t-shirt Beth said goodnight for the fourteenth time in this house. The house was too large for the two of them really, and it had been agreed by them both to be a temporary measure until their strength was back. Not long after, he checked the locks on the door and pulled himself upstairs. Standing on the landing, he could hear small whimpers from her room. Feeling a little bit ashamed that he had to contemplate whether or not to admit he heard her struggling to himself, and whether he was going to do anything about it.
But he pushed open her door, and his eyes met her small red ones. He sighed and chewed on his thumb nail slightly, asking if everything was alright. Beth snorted at his tactless nature and sniffed, looking at him with a bemused expression.
''Sorry, if you're uncomfortable. I was just thinking about daddy- you can go.'' But Daryl for some reason didn't want to go, unfortunately for him, this girl he could so usually stand being around with, was making his gut heavy. So he moved over and sat on the edge of her bed, awkwardly playing with his thumbs. There wasn't much to say to comfort her at all, particularly for someone as socially inapt as he was, but for a while at least just being there was enough for Beth. After a while, she began to explain her thoughts, what made her sad. He learnt about her fears and hopes, and surprisingly divulged a few of his own.
Like that time in the prison cell after Zach died, Daryl found himself being encased in small wiry arms that held such ginormous comfort. He let her in, and held her back. He started talking about the different sort of tears he shed over his father, what he had done to him, and she held him tighter.
Hours later they lay next to each other.
''Can I see them?'' her voice was small and almost impossible to hear. ''see what?'' but he knew the answer to that already, his scars. Unsure why, he sat up and pulled his shirt off, he heard her intake of breath.
''Oh, Daryl.'' Her small hands gently pressed against the hard ridges of years of abuse, he flinched out of habit. Then she gently slid her arms round him, resting her head on his shoulder, he turned round so he was facing her but her arms stayed encircled around him. Looking at her flush face, he felt an unsurmountable desire to kiss her. He had never let anyone get this close, neither emotionally nor physically. Her lips parted slightly, eyes and pupils wide.
He leant down and captured her lips in a swift kiss. It was needy and rough, but they both felt the need to know there was someone else who cared, even if only for one night. She ran her hands down his back, as his intertwined with her hair, pulling loose of the hair tie. Falling back on the bed, the kiss slowed to a natural stop. They looked at each other, his weight bearing down on top of her, though she dint mind.
''Beth-we should stop, I-'' his voice went dry and he couldn't tell her why this was wrong. Her small hands wrapped round his neck, pulling his into a chaste peck.
''I need this, Daryl.'' She searched his eyes for a moment, confident he was resolved, she pulled herself up into him. Her soft skin was slowly revealed to him, her small body completely willing, comforting and everything he needed. She was warm and, God, when she made those noises, he swore he was going to go insane.
Neither he nor Beth felt awkward the next morning. It was simply comfort, and they quickly agreed that neither one of them felt anything more than appropriate for the other. Which was good, because Daryl couldn't commit himself to anyone. Still, he mused, he was allowed to watch her hips sway.
The two of them took back to the road, staying in various places for a few days, and this seemed to work for the first couple of months. And then Beth got sick, which wasn't anything unusual, she was small and delicate and they were eating a lot of out of date food. Poisoning himself with alcohol, cigarettes and a poor diet for years, Daryl assumed it was her sheltered upbringing cause the upbringing. He became accustomed to hearing her throw up in the mornings, and then they found an old store to stay in.
It wasn't comfortable, and Beth even surprised him by crying when he made her a pillow out of an old coat. She sniffled and agreed to barricade the door behind him. Waiting in the ransacked store was creepy and unnerving. Beth ended up walking around aimlessly collecting anything that had been left or dropped. The meat and fridge isles made her run toward the nearest bin, into which she promptly threw up. Her burning throat was so tired of this.
Walking down the last isle, a wall of tampons and sanitary towels caught her eye. Wait, when was the last time she….? Oh, shit, the prison. But no, no- that must be malnourishment. Obviously the stopped because she was too small because she kept throwing everything up before her body absorbed it. The throwing up. Crap.
Daryl came back to a pale Beth. He wondered if her vomiting had gotten worse, or maybe it was something more serious. He asked her this but she ignored him. Looking back at the suspiciously quiet girl, he walked over and crouched down. She was curled up on herself in a small ball, staring right ahead into the distance. A herd walkers could come in and she wouldn't notice. He noticed her fingers were curled around something white, so he prised her fingers off.
It was a pregnancy test, and staring up at him was a little smiley face. Beth looked at him at his shot back, as if being within 10 feet might make it real. Getting too her own feet, Beth tied to move forward, but he stepped back matching her own movements.
A baby, like an actual small child? His imagination flashed to a baby with his brown hair and her beautiful clear eyes, and then shook his head horrified. His face must have said it all, because Beth marched closer, shakily looking at him. Chewing on his thumb to calm himself down, he shook his head, I don't understand. Beth looked at him with imploring eyes to calm down, she could see his chest rising and falling quickly, that part of him was telling him to fight or run.
''We're both responsible for this, and Daryl, please look at me!'' he moved his eyes to her face, still avoiding her gaze in disbelief. ''whatever you're thinking right now, stop it. We'll make this work. '' She sounded uncertain, but there were no guarantees in this world.
Still chewing is thumb thoughts were going round his head. This thing, that wasn't even a thing until they had brought it to life, what were they going to do about it? Teach it to kill walkers, shoot guns and scavenge. No, it didn't exist, it simply mustn't. It was just a mistake in unmade plans, he decided, yes, that was all.
There was nothing to do but walk away. He grabbed the crossbow, and stormed out the door, Beth hurrying behind him. He tried to ignore her, but a gentle hand on his shoulder made him turn around and look her straight in the eye.
''I get that you're scared Daryl, but I'm scared too! I can't do this without you, so please don't walk away from me-'' her voice dissolved into tears and gulping breaths. He couldn't leave her out in the open as walker prey, particularly not in her...'condition'…so he pulled her back to the store, sat her on her sleeping bag, and left again hoping she'd stay put. He didn't come back until late.
And they were really family now, three months on the run. And not one person to vouch for. He heard her pray every night that Maggie and Glenn were still alive and together somewhere, and that Judith had survived. And then she would pray for him and her, then for deliverance for Herschel and Merle. Which was stupid really, because when had Merle ever shown her any kindness for her to exchange, and now he never could. And Daryl knew this girl needed kindness.
And that was something he had to work on, he had been awful to her for weeks. This wasn't his burden, it was theirs, and he had to stop acting like a child. And head back to the shop they were hiding out in and apologise for what he had said. It wasn't her he was angry at, it was himself. He was too scared to take on this responsibility, it's not like he had much expertise in this area- especially since his own father was a psychotic piece of shit. She was right, without him she didn't stand a chance with that baby. And without her, he couldn't stand a chance with it either. They needed both of them to make this work, so he went home to grovel.
''I'm not prepared for all this, but it is going to happen, and we're doing this together.'' Beth's heart stooped as she turned around to a wide-eyed Daryl saying things she thought she'd never hear. ''I'm not leaving you, not ever. I will learn to hold it proper gentle, and comfort them and I won't ever lie to them, or you, Beth. That child is everything now, do you understand? Both of you are my future now.''
Surprised at his vast change of heart and possibly the most she had ever heard him speak in one go, Beth felt her shoulder slump as she started crying. Daryl, true to his word, wrapped himself around her and kissed the top of her head. And she accepted with open arms.
Daryl lay in bed next to Beth, she rested her head on his shoulder and hand on his heart, and absently he clasped his own there, rubbing little soothing circles. Soon, he thought, there'd be a baby there. Lying on his chest, half-asleep, as he gently squeezed its tiny feet letting them know he was there. And when he was there, nothing could ever go wrong.
He should be in his own bed. But Beth was entwined on him now, and it wasn't like they had any awkwardness between them. They were a family.
''You'll be alright.'' He whispered to them both.
Finding a new home, hadn't been easy. Daryl had spent the last few weeks leaving to scout out a secure location to stay. Mindful now that it had to be secure, securer than secure. And not too big, and only as isolated as being possible to run somewhere else within a day or so with little difficulty. It would be an understatement to say he was stressed.
When they finally arrived, to a small house with a brick wall, Beth had gone inside and fallen back onto the sofa. A small smile playing on her lips, like all those months ago. Daryl felt a pang of a far off dream when he was small, thinking one day he'd buy a house and carry his new bride in, then obviously they'd have children that would hold his thumb with tiny fingers because everything was fine. And he would show himself he was nothing like his father. Of course, Daryl then became a young man and decided he was never having children or a woman, he didn't need them. But it was impossible to deny that this was a good, albeit terrifying, feeling.
Beth was happy to make something out of tinned food for dinner, as Daryl finished his never ending mental to-do list. And they sat down together on the sofa, in their new home.
''How big do you think he is, like right now?'' Beth's voice was soft, and unconsciously she ran her fingers up her slightly protruding belly. Daryl tried to stop the dumb look of astounded bliss from going across his face. And he shook his head at her, her bright smile shone back. There she was lying flat on her back, her head on his lap. She was contemplating this, and Daryl was busy making a mental schism of tomorrow's jobs.
''He?'' Daryl glanced at her sheepish face. A little boy, huh? Yes, he could see that. He would have that same straight, dizzying smile that Beth had, the one that made everything manageable. And he would never be able to say no to either of them, not with his boy's small dimples and wide eyes.
''He's a Dixon, right? I can't imagine a girl Dixon.'' she was bright and alive talking about his, pushing herself up, so she was leaning against his shoulder. ''He's going to break hearts, y'know?'' And the funniest thing was Daryl did know.
''What about names then? If it's a boy, something like Dale or Shawn?'' Daryl looked at her, and she smiled shaking her head, but that knowing look knew she understood what he was trying to do and she appreciated it.
''I don't want it to be someone who's gone, he deserves his own name. I like Isaac or Noah.'' He rolled his eyes at her, and received a playful punch. ''and if it's a girl, it needs to be something pretty, to offset all this gloom.''
''Like what sunshine? Stop being such a hippy, no child of mine in going to have a floral name.'' his voice was authoritative and honest, but Beth still laughed at him, asking what he would choose then.
''Diana.'' He shrugged, as if he hadn't thought about this constantly for the last few days, ''or Nathanial, for a boy.'' He felt suddenly so self-conscious, like she was going to laugh and take away this child from him. As if she knew what he was thinking, she snuggled up beside him, gazing into his face.
''I like it.'' Then she placed his hand on her stomach. They sat like that a while, he felling the warmth of their child, and she drifting off on his shoulder.
He carried her up the stairs to her new bedroom, pulled the covers over her, and checked every possible hiding place for a walker just in case. He quietly slipped back down to the living room, pulling a book out his rucksack, and glancing round anxiously. Slowly reading, something he had never put the effort into learning properly, Daryl flicked through.
Two nights later, as he tucked her into bed, he lay next to her enjoying her shallow half-asleep breathing. Gently stroking her wrist to wake her up, her gaze met his.
''The baby's fingernails are half the size of a grain of rice.'' He had a wide, kooky grin on his face. Beth's own smile lit up, ''really?'', he nodded and moved to go to his own room, but Beth's small hand wrapped round his shirt and held him back. He sighed pulling his jeans and jacket off, and sliding next to her. Immediately Beth curled round him, falling asleep in her exhaustion. Daryl kept his hands protectively on her small stomach. I'll keep you safe, he thought, keep you right in front of me forever. The Daryl fell to sleep, holding his child and his Beth to his chest. And so it continued that way until a week later.
And that day he came back was the worst in his life. Hunting as usual, he returned to the small house, and instantly a sixth sense picked up. And his feet moved quicker to the ajar door and looked into the kitchen, where Beth wasn't. But a body was. The walker lay dead on the tile floor, sharp knife through its temple still standing out.
Stairs, too many fucking stairs in the way, and when he reached the top his heart stopped beating.
Blood had never bothered Daryl. Not his own, a poor animals and not even his undead brothers. But the bloody handprint on the white door of Beth's room made him want to vomit. A pounding started in his head. Inside he heard a groan. Oh, fuck, no- not her. She can't be bitten, she just can't.
Edging into the room, crossbow pulled ahead, tears in his eyes. One foot in, now the next, and so on. And there Beth was, curled up on the floor, fists clenching the sheets to try and get up. Her pale face grimaced and sweaty. Rushing over, Daryl softly cupped her face and brought it up to his. Her blue eyes swam in and out of deliriousness and painful reality. He said her name, but she didn't even register his voice, only his own rushing blood could be heard. He pushed her knees down and swallowed at the sight of blood. She was covered, her small hands red and weakening.
''Beth, were you bit?'' His voice wavered at the calmness he was trying to inflict. His entire body was shaking in the first real fear he had felt since being a boy. But Beth just gasped and small tears gathered in her eyes. ''Beth! Stay with me- I need to know what happened! Please, Beth, do you understand me? Where were you bit?'' Her wide eyes stared at him and her mouth began to twitch, but no words came out.
Scooping her up in his arms he lay her on the bed, ignoring the scream of pain from her. He was running into the bathroom he pulled out towels and anything he could think of to help, it took far too many moments to ran downstairs and grab the entire supply of water that they had. Stripping her down into her underwear, he gently wiped off blood looking for the source.
And when he found it, he looked up at her sweet crying face, and she passed out. And the weight of the world crashed around him, as everything was lost.
Beth didn't wake up for three days, and Daryl couldn't find it in him to leave for any length of time. Instead he let his mind race to all the things he shouldn't think about, allowing the pain and numbness to overtake him, and keep him conscious. Her white face was one of an obviously sick person, and he was no doctor, but he knew it was possible she wasn't coming back at all. Fists pulling at his hair kept him sane. She was weak but the small flutter of her heart never failed.
At the first small moan, Daryl had propped her up and looked into her face. Her eyes half opened, as he gently spilled water into her mouth. Trying to stop the soar of his heart long enough to think rationally. And this became the pattern, until water became thin soups and Beth stayed awake for longer amounts of time. Neither of them said a word, what were they supposed to say?
''I'm sorry.'' Her voice was small and cracked, and despite the pain it caused she knew she had to say it. Daryl put down the bowl of soup and looked at her incredulously. Her blue eyes remained fixed on his, tears silently slipping down her cheeks. And that look of pure guilt made his temper flare.
Daryl and Beth had never been in love with each other. They did, however, understand the other better than anyone else. Too broken to love anymore, their friendship was based upon an acceptance of knowing that there was no possible way to fix the past, just rely on the one person who thought the same. It was comfort that brought them here, and comfort that would fix this.
''Don't.'' His voice was numb. Don't think it was you, don't blame yourself, don't bring it up. He shook his head, and then pulled off his boots. Easing himself in next to her, his strong arms encased her, and together they cried. Her small whimpers of total heartbreak matched his own. It was never her fault, she didn't bring that baby to life and she didn't kill it either. And he could understand her right now, they almost couldn't live with the pain. The fact he had never gotten to see that small bump grow before being torn from life.
And he hadn't kept them safe.
The grave was small and covered in small woodland flowers, a cross made from plaited young branches marking the head. Together they stood there, bags packed, unable to move. Neither were aware of why God had need their child back so suddenly, but they had no choice but to keep breathing.
In some ways it was a relief that a baby never entered a world where the dead eat the living. That they didn't have to be taught 'kill or be killed'' before they could talk. A life of fear and impending death. But that barely lessens the pain, and can hardly compensate for what they lost.
And Daryl took her hand and pulled her into the woods to start their search again.
You are my one and only.
This was really hard to write, but sometimes these things are. Please review if you're that way inclined. xxx