Chapter One: if you could only keep me alive
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It was just a picture.
A flimsy piece of paper, really. There were creases from where it had been folded down numerous times and the color was starting to fade but it was still a picture.
A picture of a beautiful woman. Big blue eyes, long blonde hair. If he looked hard enough he could see just the hint of a dusting of freckles along her nose, across her bare shoulders. She was wearing a short, navy blue dress, strapless but you could see the straps of a light blue bathing suit top beneath it - he assumes its a bathing suit, being as the picture was taken at the beach. The woman is smiling in the photo, of course she is, she doesn't have a reason not to smile.
He likes her smile; how it reaches her eyes and the sunlight in the background almost seems pale in comparison. He wonders if she still smiles like that. He knows the news would haven gotten back to her by now. It had been weeks since the photo had been placed in his hand, trusted to him by a man who knew he wouldn't make it home.
"Dixon, hey, I need you to do me a favor, alright man?" the voice is shaky and they both know why, know that he has lost too much blood and the rescue team won't get here in time but he can't just accept it, that after everything he still failed.
"I have a sister," he starts and Daryl just shakes his head.
"Nah man, don't start that shit, we're gonna get ya outta here, you'll see your sister again."
He's lying, they both know it but he can't not lie. He can't not tell this man that he won't ever see his family again. He can't not believe that he was going to lose another one of his men, another one of his friends, his brother.
He's tired of losing people.
"Humor me," he says, voice still shaky but now slightly pleading, begging, so Daryl lets out a long sigh and jerks a nod before he walks closer, crouches down next to his friend.
"Alright Greene, whatta ya need?" he all but mumbles but he's been fighting side by side with Shawn Greene for almost two years now, knows that the man can understand him even if he doesn't speak a word.
"My sister, Beth, you 'member me telling you about her?" Shawn asks, wincing as he shifts and Daryl closes his eyes, nods his head.
"Yeah, younger one, right? She sings or somethin' like that?"
Shawn nods, smiling despite everything. "Yeah, yeah, she's a music teacher now. Sings at the bar on the weekend, plays guitar, the piano. She's got the prettiest voice man, I ain't ashamed to admit that." Shawn chuckles and Daryl manages to crack a grin. "She's something special, that girl."
There's a loud explosion in the distance and they both fall silent for a moment.
Shawn lets out a breathy sigh. "You're a good man, Dixon."
"Stop," he says in reflex and Shawn grins.
"Clueless and stubborn obviously, but still good, honorable even," Shawn teases and Daryl rolls his eyes.
Shawn goes quiet again and Daryl turns his head from where he had been checking the perimeter, mentally accounting all his men as they huddled down, staying out of sight but prepared to fight at a moments notice, prepared to set off the signal when they hear the thrumming of helicopter blades. Daryl looks down and sees Shawn's eyes are closed, his body still, and Daryl's heart stops.
"Greene," he grits out and shakes his shoulder roughly, nearly sighing with relief and not the least bit sorry when Shawn lets out a groan of pain, his eyes flashing back open and Daryl's pulse settles again.
"Hmmm?" Shawn grumbles, looking around like he isn't exactly sure how he got here. Daryl can relate.
"Hey, ya were tellin' me 'bout you sister. 'Bout Beth. Said ya needed me to do somethin' for ya." Daryl reminds him, gritting his teeth and hoping Shawn doesn't notice.
"Right, right, Beth she's somethin' ya know? Sometimes I think maybe she isn't real. Can't be, ya know? Somethin' as good as her can't be real in a world like this." Shawn is whispering, babbling and Daryl clenches his fist, not even wincing when he feels his nails break the skin of his palm.
"She's a good girl," Shawn then says and Daryl nods. "Hey, in my front inside pocket, right here, ugh, there."
Shawn is moving and wincing and groaning and Daryl places a hand on his shoulder, steadying him and he points to his chest and Shawn nods so he starts to reach around his vest, digging in the pocket Shawn told him to and he feels the slick of paper and he grasps it, pulling it out and Shawn moans in pain again but Daryl holds his hand out, going to hand him the picture but Shawn just shakes his head.
"Nah, 's for you." he mumbles and Daryl furrows his eyebrows. "That's Beth," he says and Daryl barely glances down but he sees the blonde hair, the smile, those eyes, knows that even with that smallest glimpse he is probably holding a picture of one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen.
"What am I supposed to do with this, Greene?" Daryl asks, bewildered.
Shawn grins and laughs and for a moment, Daryl thinks that this is all pointless because there is no way this is the end for Shawn Greene, no one can smile and laugh like that, not when they are as close to death as they both know he is. But the red staining his uniform, his skin, Daryl's hands, it's too much, too much and it's an honest to God miracle the man is even still talking at this point.
"Beth, she, she's somethin'. A fucking firecracker. Stubborn as all hell, isn't afraid to put you in your place and it's funny, 'cause she's really such a tiny thing and you wound'd expect but man, girl's got a mouth on her and I haven't had to worry about her for a long time now. She's tough, my baby sister, but you see, sometimes, I don't think she realizes it. She needs some remindin' sometimes. We've, she's lost a lot and I don't know, don't know how this is gonna affect her, you know?"
Daryl nods his head, minuscule and barely there but he knows what Shawn is gettin' at, what it is Shawn Greene is asking of him. Knows that he can't deny this man - his brother, in all the ways that matter - his last dying wish.
"I'll look after her," Daryl whispers, reaching out to clutch Shawn's hand. "I'll take care of her, man, I promise."
"Good. Good." Shawn mumbles, his lips rising in a smile. "You're a hell of a man, Daryl Dixon. Really. Thank you."
Daryl just nods, wants to say something but like usual his words get lost in his throat, lost in the tears that he can feel forming in his eyes. He clutches the picture to his chest as his grip tightens on Shawn's hand. There's shouting in the distance now, a flare popping and Daryl hears the familiar humming of helicopter blades but he bows his head, letting a sob escape him as Shawn Greene's eyes close for the last time. They were too late.
"Sir?"
Daryl jumps, startled and he unconsciously reaches for a weapon he knows isn't there anymore.
"Sir?"
He looks up then, remembering where he is, sees the taxi driver looking at him with confusion, maybe even some concern.
"What?" Daryl asks, clearing his throat after hearing how rough his voice is, rougher than usual.
"You alright?" the man asks and Daryl just gives a jerky nod in return and the man sighs but glances out the windshield, nodding his head for Daryl to do the same and he ducks down to take a look. "This the right place?"
Daryl is quiet for a moment, wondering himself if this is the right place. He glances around, noting that there is nothing but road and trees beside them, all except for this gravel driveway the taxi is parked in front of, a gate swung open and a sign advertising eggs for sale perched in the lawn and he can feel the driver looking back at him and for just a moment Daryl thinks about telling him to turn around, that maybe he did have the wrong address but then he catches sight of a mailbox, just a few feet away, and nearly obscured by a low hanging branch.
He reads the name on the side and takes in a deep breath, feels his fingers flex against the photo in his hand, the photo he hand been holding on to like a lifeline since he landed at the airport that morning.
"This is it," Daryl finally confirms, his voice gruff and the man nods his head.
"Want me to drive up?" he asks but Daryl is shaking his head, already pulling open the door and beginning to climb out.
The man pops the truck and Daryl grabs his bag, a sad excuse of a suitcase but he didn't leave this place with much and he sure as hell didn't return with nothing either. A couple change of clothes, a book, nothing that holds any real value but that was kind of the reason he had gotten on that plane in the first place, taking him overseas and joining a war he wasn't sure was even worth fighting for anymore.
He has something now though. He has a picture. So he walks around to the front of the cab, tries to give the cabbie some money but the man refuses, says he doesn't take money from soldiers and Daryl isn't sure how the man knows, because he had changed out of his uniform before he even left the airport but he decides to ignore it, offering a gruff thanks before the man sticks his hand out, giving him a shake and a thank you of his own before he drives off and Daryl is left standing at the end of the this long driveway, a picture clutched to his chest and a mailbox with the name Greene just to his left.
It's just a picture, just a piece of paper that is crumpled and beginning to fray. It's just a picture but it's the woman in that picture that has him walking down the drive, gravel crunching under his boots because it's not just a picture.
It's a promise, and he intends to keep it.
...
My writer's block finally allowed me to write something and uh...yeah. idk. This is sort of a test I guess, seeing if anyone would be interested...a bit of a twist on a common plot...maybe...idk. again. Please leave me a review, let me know if you would like this to continue...
Title taken from The Dangerous Summer: "I Would Stay"