We'll be Good
It's unclear now, what we intend
We're alone in our own world
You don't wanna be my boyfriend
And I don't wanna be your girl
And that, that's a relief
We'll drink up our grief
And pine for summer
And we'll buy beer to shotgun
And we'll lay in the lawn
And we'll be good
He can still hear her soft voice ringing inside his head. Especially in the nighttime when he shuts his eyes, forcing himself to sleep. It is the only way he can find peace now. Through the memory of her voice.
Even if it lasts for a few moments.
And we'll be good.
He remembers walking into the mortuary and hearing the piano and a soft voice in the distant. He knew it was her, but he couldn't help the small spark of relief that jolted deep inside of him. He thought he had taken that from her, because of the things he had said in the heat of the moment. Truth is, he was taken aback by her singing. And whether it was by sheer coincidence or deliberate, she always managed to get under your skin by her choice of song. Like she's doin' the soundtrack of our goddam life. It is as if she knew, somehow, what people wanted, and sometimes needed, to hear. Daryl sometimes found himself wondering how many songs she knew. He only knew a handful.
And pine for summer
And we'll buy beer to shotgun
And we'll lay in the lawn
And we'll be good
He stood in the doorway, watching her play and sing. He noticed how at ease she was when she was singing. It was something she was in control of. And with her voice, she controlled the room. Daryl remembered one particular night when the residents of Woodbury had arrived and everyone seemed agitated due to the recent events with the Governor, Beth had suddenly started singing. Slowly, as if by some invisible chain, she drew people to her, and her soothing voice miraculously easing off the tension in the atmosphere.
Just like that moment at the mortuary.
Daryl didn't want her to find him gawking at her, so he cleared his throat as to send her a warning of his presence. He was disappointed to hear her stop playing. He blamed himself for that.
'Course she stopped. You were a dick to her.
He wanted to tell her to keep playing. Keep singing. He wanted her to know how peaceful her singing made everything seem. Sometimes when she would sing Lil' Asskicker to sleep, Daryl would take his time cleaning his weapons, or taking smaller bites of his meal. His mother, only in words, never did anything like that for him or Merle. He was raised up by himself. He was relieved to see Judith had someone to take care of her, even if Beth wasn't her mother.
"Why don't ya go ahead and play s'more. Keep singin'." He had asked her.
And she had complied.
Now I'm laughing at my boredom
At my string of failed attempts
Because you think that it's important
And I welcome the sentiment
Sleep never came easily to Daryl. Childhood traumas had left their mark. But for some reason, tonight was different. Maybe he'd gotten old and slow. Maybe it was the running around for days and the lack of sleep. Or maybe it was his new comfortable coffin-bed. Whatever the reason was, Daryl felt warm and sleepy. With heavy lidded eyes, he noted how young and innocent she looked in the candlelit room. He shut his eyes. He wanted his last memory of the night be her innocent countenance and her soft melodic voice.
And we talk on the phone at night
Until it's daylight
And I feel clever
And I hear the slow in your speech
Yeah you're half asleep
Say goodnight
When he opened his eyes, everything was cold and hard. Daryl concluded upon seeing the darkness that he hasn't slept much.
He had been dreaming of her.
Again.
You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon.
She had told him that he would be the last man standing. And that he would miss her once she was gone. He remembers asking her to stop, but she had continued, with a calm yet serious tone. He didn't know whether it was the booze talking or she really meant it.
I'll be gone someday.
And now she was.
His gut clenched. He didn't want to think about it. He shut his eyes fiercely and searched his memories, trying to remember her soft voice. He found a pair of big expressive eyes, the warmth in them contrasting their cool color of blue. And then he remembered her delicate voice, singing for him.
And pine for summer
And we'll buy beer to shotgun
And we'll lay in the lawn
And we'll be good
"Beth." He whispered into the darkness.
A/N: Canon. My intention with this story is to explore the interesting relationship between Daryl and Beth. I enjoy the duo's differences, and how they are draw to each other in spite or maybe despite of it. Could those who read, tell me their favorite and least favorite line from this chapter? I'd like to know. Thanks for reading.