Category: To Kill A Mockingbird
Title: I'll Always Be Here
Ship: Scout/Dill
by sick-atxxheart
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My tears seemed cold and almost unnecessary. Of course I had cried enough in my time; I was no longer a child, and when you are my age there are enough things to make a girl cry. But compared to this- those tears were fake, almost shallow. They meant nothing.
For the first time, I am crying for something.
Because I'm scared, and I don't know what to do. Yes, me- strong, brave, opinionated Scout Finch- I'm lost, and that feeling keeps pulling me under, further and further, until now I'm not sure I can even get out. That small fact is scarier than anything.
The porch is cold, and the night seems to be getting even darker with only the moon to light up its shadowy pathways. All the houses on the street are dark, as is mine; the fact that I am up, outside, alone, is only one more thing to add to the list of broken rules.
But the night is so peaceful- and for once, I want the silence. Too much has been going on, and I won't try to pretend that I understand it all- because I don't. But when Atticus- my father, the man I look up to more than anyone else- is threatened, that means something's up. And here and now, something is more than up. Our town, little, tiny Maycomb, is falling apart over a lie- and I know it's a lie, because Atticus wouldn't believe in it if it wasn't.
The whole problem was based around a rape trial, and at a young age I didn't know what that meant. But now- I know. And from all the accusations and horror that seems to surround the aftermath of Tom Robinson's death, I know it's bad. Worse than bad.
No one really bothers to explain.
I wipe the tears away angrily and stare up at the moon again. The lady seems to be waving down at me- mocking, almost, and I turn away. It seems to never stop. Mocking, teasing, judging, lies- it is a circle that we all here fall in to, and it's one we can't get out of.
I'm so lost inside myself that I don't even feel the door creak until Dill is next to me on the swing, his comforting arms around me. "What's wrong, Scout?" he whispers, his voice sounding startling in the silence.
I shake my head and lean back, his forearm cradling my neck and his shoulder my head. "I'm scared, Dill."
I can feel his smile in the way his shoulders move, but when his voice speaks it is not cruel. "You'd be a fool if you weren't."
"Are you scared too, then?" My question seems childish, but I ask it anyway.
"Of course I am." His answer is so confident and unbothered that I can't help wonder where he hides all he feels. Dill has always been the epitome of coolness- but I know he feels, probably more deeply than even I. He's been worse off than I have- and he's still stronger than me. I sometimes can't even admit to myself how much I respect and admire him- and, even, love him.
Dill is speaking again. "-being afraid isn't weak, Scout-"
"It is when there is no time for it," I interrupt, shifting so I can completely see him. "There is too much going on... I have no time to do anything else but be here."
"It isn't up to you," Dill responds logically, smiling at me. He is the only one, next to Atticus, who can smile so casually during a serious conversation and not offend me.
But this time, Dill's advice truly did seem almost juvenile, even if in the depths of my mind I knew it was true. All the drama and tragedy that has taken place in Maycomb has not been from any fault of mine- what it all boils down to is black versus white. The shallow waters of inhumanity are slowly creeping up to drown us, and soon enough we will all be lost in them. Ever since Tom's death, our town has exploed. Exploded with cruelty and prejudice that no matter how much we try, no one can shut it down. It's always there.
I shift in Dill's gentle embrace, and he wisely keeps his mouth shut while I contemplate. He knows me well enough by now to see that I think too much- I most certainly am rash, but I am not a fool.
"It certainly is up to Atticus." My quiet thought was spoken almost with a hesitation, and Dill did not jump to defend against the statement, because it was true.
"Your father is a strong man, Scout," Dill whispered, pulling me closer to him. "I see so much of you in him. You have nothing to be afraid of."
I shivered at his words, but I couldn't help but feel a spark of pride in my chest at his comparison of me to Atticus. My father is the one person in my life- besides Dill, of course- that I simply could not live without. His example is what has led me my entire life, and for that I am grateful.
We are silent for a moment longer, and I was just about to get up and watch the moon once more when I heard Dill speak again.
"You have nothing to be afraid of, Scout. I'll always be here."
Four words. I'll always be here.
He would, you know. Dill has never really been what most would consider dependable- but he loves me, I have no doubt of that. I love him, too.
He'll never leave me.
For the first time, something makes sense.
Dill's here. I have nothing to be afraid of.
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