AN: I know, my third upload and no story finishes. Don't know what to write really, so, I decided to make drabbles here and there. For you, Bethyl fans. Still checking on the petition sometimes, so I know I'm not the only one hurt by Beth Greene's final stand.
Daryl's head nodded and he jerked awake. With a clear of his throat, he gripped his crossbow and straightened his posture. He could hear everyone's quiet breathing, with the occasional snore from Abraham. He turned his attention back to his watch when he heard Maggie stifle her sobs and Glenn whisper bittersweet comforts in her ear.
Daryl looked up when he saw Rick come toward him. He knelt down and looked at him intently.
"You need sleep," Rick whispered firmly, "you can't keep doing this. I'll take watch now."
"Don't need it, not tired." Daryl replied curtly. Rick paused before he spoke again.
"I need you Daryl."
It was a simple statement and as Daryl stared at Rick, he could see the heartache and plead in his eyes. Finally, he nodded, and without much of a fight, he got up and found himself a spot to lay down away from the pain Maggie's cries caused him.
Daryl hated sleep. He hated the exhaustion his body felt and fought it all he could. Night filled him with anger and hurt, and as he laid his head down, situating his pack for comfort, he waited for the heaviness to overtake him. He hoped the exhaustion from the day overrode the emotional exhaustion that weighed him down. He started at the bracelets at his wrist, a forever memoir of the sweet girl that had changed him. He felt the loss in his chest and fought the grief. He forcefully closed his eyes. Soon, Daryl was asleep.
In his sleep He came to him. At first, Daryl was surprised as Merle watched him with that dickish smirk on his face. It always started the same, Daryl stood in darkness with a heavy emptiness around him. He couldn't see anything but black, couldn't even see the floor he stood on. He just stood on nothingness of darkness.
"Hey li'l brother,"
Merle's voice spoke up before Daryl saw him step from the emptiness. They faced each other, and the younger brother felt the guilt as his eyes fell on the elder's makeshift hand. As always, it dripped with blood, the drops falling into nothing, but Daryl could smell the iron.
"Merle," Daryl mumbled. He couldn't look at his face, his chest hurt.
"How goes it, still Officer Friendly's li'l bitch? You kiss his ass?" Merle's smile haunted Daryl.
"Ain't no one's bitch Merle," Daryl growled only half heartedly. He couldn't deal with this tonight. Noth after Grady.
"We coulda made it li'l brother, we coulda survived if you hadn't turned your back on your own blood." Merle's deformed hand pointed at him accusingly. "You betrayed me."
"No," Daryl responded, "you hooked your wagon to the Governor, a screwed up fuck."
"Blood is blood. You always turned your back on me, and look what it's done! Lost your brother, lost your dignity, became a big fuckin' wuss! Shoulda called you Darlene with that pussy between your legs! Dixons are strong, Dixons don't cry over some stupid li'l girl-
"Don't!" Daryl's fist gripped at Merle's grimy shirt. He could feel the wet blood on his skin. His eyes searched his proud face. The realization that Beth was gone struck him hard, the pain still raw. Tears welled up and Daryl released his brother. He turned his back to hide the shame he felt. Dixons were strong. Dixons didn't cry.
"Look what she's done to you li'l brother! Girl says some sweet lies and helps you burn down some shithole shack and you turn into a big crybaby." Daryl could hear the disgust in Merle's tone. "Did you even get that ass with your sensitive blubberin'?"
That was it. Daryl couldn't take this shit anymore. He wouldn't let him talk that way, not about Beth, not about the girl who let him know he was more than his upbringing. The man whirled around and tackled his brother. Both fell hard on the blackness. Daryl started punching him. After a few licks, Daryl paused to take a breather. His eyes stung with tears and guilt.
"You gotta hit harder than that Darlene," Merle laughed and spit some blood away from them.
"I'm sorry Merle," Daryl faltered, scrunching his eyes closed to block out the manifestation. It was his fault Merle died, if only he stayed with him, maybe he wouldn't have went to the Governor, maybe if he looked harder...
It was quiet a moment before Daryl opened his eyes. Merle's dead and bloodshot eyes stared at him. A gnarled and decayed mouth snapped at him, and in his shock Daryl jumped off his brother. He reached for his crossbow, but it wasn't there. Merle's good hand clawed for him and grabbed Daryl's boot, pulling at him. Daryl reached for his knife, gun, anything, but he was defenseless. The floor of the black emptiness started to shift. He was sinking, arms and legs disappearing into nothing. Merle started to climb on top of him and pulled Daryl's face towards his hungry mouth. Daryl yelled out. It was the worst feeling in the world, not that he was going to die, but that he couldn't do anything. He was helpless.
"Daryl."
The voice wasn't his and he felt a flutter of relief in his chest. The nothingness disappeared and was replaced with a comforting white light. Merle was gone and Daryl sat up as the mobility in his arms and legs returned. He stood up and turned around to see the petite figure in the distance, the warm and illuminating light behind her. He felt himself move towards her, drawn in by the warmth she held. When he reached her, he stared down at her with soft, wide eyes.
Beth smiled up at him with clear blue eyes. Daryl was quiet a moment.
This was the reason he didn't want to sleep. Not only did Merle come to him, but recently, she did too, and that was just too much pain for tough Daryl Dixon to take. Looking at her, he felt anger. All the feelings he'd been holding in and never got to say caught in his throat.
"Are you stupid girl? Why'd you do that?" His voice was trembling with a mixture of pain and rage. "It was stupid Beth! You were back, you were home!" Beth smiled and sighed.
"S'pose it was stupid," she answered softly.
"Damn right! You weren't thinkin'!" Daryl's hands grabbed at her upper arms and shook her lightly, frustrated at her detrimental mistake. She chuckled quietly and moved to hug him. Daryl let her and rested his chin on her head, unscathed and beautiful in the warmth she created. She squeezed him tenderly and Daryl felt the grief in his throat. This is why he hated sleep.
"I figured it out," she said, burying her cheek into his chest.
"What?" He asked.
"I was strong."
"I coulda told you that."
Beth looked up at him and grinned. Her hand jingled with the bracelets as she touched Daryl's hair. He let a tear escape and she looked at him puzzled.
"Why're you crying?"
"You're an idiot Beth," Daryl managed with a hitched smile. "You didn't have to do that. Didn't have nothin' to prove."
"I shoulda aimed for the head," she responded sadly, wiping his tear away with her thumb. She smiled, "I told you," she continued sassily. He looked at her, a calm filling him up as she stared at him.
"Don't act smug girl, it ain't pretty."
"I did tell you though Daryl," she said, "I told you you'd miss me when I was gone." Daryl's heart ached and he looked at her with concern.
"That ain't nothin' to brag about," he replied firmly, "that ain't nothin' to be proud of."
She unwrapped her arms from him and stepped back. Daryl felt panic. He watched as she pulled off her many bracelets and held them out to him, palm up. The skin of her wrist was smooth and pale, untouched by the deep shame she had tried to hide in life. She smiled as he gingerly took the bracelets from her.
"Take these if you want. I don't need them anymore."
Daryl held them and they felt so heavy. He watched as she turned and started to leave, her steps light and happy.
"Beth!" Daryl felt a panic rise in him, he had to tell her. Beth turned and waited. "You ain't just another dead girl!" He spoke with great conviction. She had to know he meant it, even though he never said anything he didn't mean. Beth shook her head.
"No, Mr. Dixon, I'm your dead girl."
Daryl jolted awake in heavy breathing. Damn it. The archer looked down at his wrist, his other hand stroking the charms with affection. He stared at them quietly with a heavy heart, suddenly filled with a soft warmth.
"Yeah you are Greene."
