HERE'S A LITTLE PREGAME STORY FOR YOU. I STOPPED AT THE POST OFFICE ON MY WAY HOME FROM WORK AND PICKED UP THIS PICTURE I'D ORDERED. (HERE'S THE LINK IF YOU'RE CURIOUS: listing/222996114/daryl-dixon-carrying-beth-greene-rest-in?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=daryl%20dixon&ref=sr_gallery_4) I OPENED IT, LOOKED AT IT, AND GOT IN MY CAR TO DRIVE HOME. ABOUT HALFWAY THERE I GOT HIT WITH THIS, OUTTA NOWHERE. CRYING AND DRIVING IS NOT FUN FOLKS, BUT IT HAPPENS. I HAD TO SIT DOWN AND WRITE IT OUT WHEN I GOT HOME. SO HERE YOU GO. FEEL FREE TO CRY WITH ME BECAUSE I STILL AM AND IT'S NOT PRETTY.
He watched her walk away as the smirk fell from his face, frown setting in as blonde hair and blue eyes flashed across his mind. His heart sank in that moment, as he remembered her smile and her laugh, carrying her down those hospital steps. The first two were barely even memories at this point, slowly drifting away. The last, however, was ingrained into his skull. How could it not, when her absence hit him like bricks even after all this time?
He felt the presence of someone coming to stand beside him, figuring it was Rick needing to talk about something. He didn't look, though. He instincts were hardly ever wrong. Which is why he was startled, doubly, by the voice itself and the words it spoke.
"It's okay, Daryl. She'd want you to be happy."
He looked down and the woman, finding her looking straight back at him. He didn't realize how close she'd been standing, and he was taken aback by those green eyes, nearly identical to the blue. He stared at her slack jawed for a moment, not knowing what to say.
"Wha—what?" His voice broke as the stumbled over the words. "Wha're ya talkin' 'bout?"
She gave him a small smile, knowing him well enough to know he'd been thinking about. Knowing that he'd never willingly admit to anything. "Beth. She'd want you to be happy, Daryl."
Heh turned away from her instantly, the name rolling from her lips shocking him to the core. Sure he'd thought about her, a million times over. But he hadn't said her name. Not once. And the others knew not to either, not in his presence.
He felt the tear pool behind his eyes and his hands start to shake. He could feel his throat closing up and his chest collapse, holding his breath. He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about her, leaving her behind again.
He felt Maggie place her hand on his arm and he froze. He knew she knew, knew she could see the tears dripping down his face. "Daryl, it's okay." She looked to the distance, at the girl who'd stopped to talk to Carl, make faces at Judith. "It's okay."
She held her hand there for a moment longer before walking towards the trio standing in the street, leaving him to his thoughts. When she let go he inhaled sharply, as if coming up for air in the midst of drowning.
He looked at her then, the girl who'd made him smile. Really looked at her. She looked nothing like Beth, not her hair or her eyes. Not her smile, or her walk, her voice. Not the way she laughed or the the clothes she wore. They were nothing alike, but there was something. A feeling he had when he stood next to her. When they talked and she teased him, or he asked about her books. Something he couldn't name and had only felt once before, sitting in the candlelight.
He looked at his hand then, at that scar he put there, for her, for Beth. But Beth, she would've screamed at him for it, yelled that he wasn't nothing, told him he was better than that. She would've told him that it was okay. She would want him to be okay.
He took another breath, lungs shaking as he did so, and ran that hand over his face, wiping away the tears. He starting walking, heading towards the girl that made his smile. Beth would want you to be okay.
XOXO