Let it Be

Dallas Winston entered the hospital room in which the drained body of his mistress lay limp and sleeping. The woman, whose name was Cherry, lay quietly, her pale nimble arms lay lack atop her belly which was just previously swollen with life. Her gem-like green eyes open gently as he strides, slow and careful, toward the chair at her side.

And so he sits, taking in from every angle the paling face of the dying young woman. Her hair lay in scarlet swirls, lacing itself carefully around her soft features, falling in graceful tufts and vine-like strands around her. Ah, her hair was beautiful; shimmering like red gold against the early sun.

A small hint of a smile graced her sweet face. She had such a beautiful face. Pale apart from a soft natural blush which painted the edges of her cheeks with a perfect finality.

Her eyes, however, were possibly the fairest of all her features. They gleamed like jewels; a warm emerald green, topped with glistening hints of gold. Her eyelashes were long and graceful, framing her lustful eyes with a tranquil charisma.

Dallas loved her.

Her lips parted slightly as she strained to speak.

''Is it okay?'' she asked in a dead whisper. The sound of her angelic voice danced in the open silence, quivering slightly before disappearing all together. A smile was soon plastered to the face of a proud Dallas Winston as he gathered her hands in his own. They were cold. Deathly cold and paling more each second. He pushed this last noted clear out of his head as he enveloped them in his own, allowing his warmth to transcend into her dying fingers.

''She's perfect.'' He answers simply, and relief floods through her jade eyes.

''She?'' Happiness replaces relief in Cherry's grateful eyes. He nods in reply.

''She's gorgeous. Looks just like you.'' He whispers. She smiles at him and turns her head. Years flutter from her melancholy eyes; shimmering like a diamond left in the rain. The boy cocks his head and looks over her sadly, knowing what was on her min but refusing to accept it.

''Baby, what's wrong?'' Dallas questions, stroking her soft scarlet hair with a sense of tragedy.

''I won't ever be able to see her.'' She choked out eventually, ''Won't get to see her grow up.'' More tears spill from her eyes.

''Don't say that. You might-''

''Might what, Dallas? Defy the odds? I'm dying. I know I'm dying. I don't even see the purpose of a fight. I'm tired, Dallas. Let me sleep. Let me go. Let it be.'' She says in a tiny voice. Everyone will eventually die. No-one will live forever. So what if your time comes slightly too soon? Doesn't everyone's? you would reach it in the end. In the end, that's all that awaits you. The last goal. The final embrace.

''Please don't go.'' He begs, though it's far too evident of this statement's tardiness. It's too late and he knows it.

''Will you name her Love? Could you do that for me? Love.'' She asks the simplest question she can, hoping he'll agree though believing he will not.

''Of course.'' He answers. She smiles. The life in her eyes is draining now. Draining far too quickly for her to tolerate. For her to handle. Her smile fades, leaving no hint that a smile had ever even settled there. Destroying any look of happiness she's had the strength to bestow upon herself. Her eyes were fading still, and she cast a desperate, helpless look in the direction of Dallas.

''I love you.'' She mumbles, her words stumbling over on another in the fight to escape her lips. Escape before it time dawned on them and it was too late, and she was left wordless. They made it, and not a second too soon.

''I love you too.'' He says, defeat lacing his words like a vine you can't help but surrender under.

The life drained from her eyes, leaving them dim and dull. She was motionless, and her chest soon refused to rise. The last of her tears seeped slowly from her eyes and her head sank mercilessly into the pillow.

And that was the end of Ms. Cherry Valance.

/

The proceeding weeks were full of torment for Dallas Winston. Nights racked mercilessly by nightmares and days coated in sloth and depression. In his mind, the death of the young Cherry Valance was unfair and unjust. In no corner of is starved mind could he concoct a legit reason as to why the girl should have died, though he spent all day listing reason why she shouldn't have. She had so much to live for. She had a family now and she wasn't around to watch it grow. Her death had been just as fair as the death of Johnny Cade, another soul member of a life Dallas had created in spite of himself.

Johnny Cade had been the only thing Dallas could recall actually loving. And he had lost him.

Then there had been Cherry. Her beautiful face was hard not to admire, and he was positive there was no angel who wouldn't feel envious of his Cherry. He had loved her more than life. But he's lost her as well.

He could rather simply give in and attach himself to his new daughter, who he faithfully named Love for the request of his dying mistress. She was beautiful. Her head was topped with fluffy red hair, a characteristic acquired from her mother. Her eyes were a gift of her father's, a pale oceanic blue. Though unlike his, Love's eyes were warm and she didn't show the expression of abandonment as clearly as her father. The child's smile, however, was possibly Dallas' favourite trait.

She was sweet, the little girl was, and as she gazed up in admiration of her father a tiny, soft smile would lighten her features. She was honestly perfect. All he could have ever wished for.

Which is why it killed him inside every time he glanced at the ominous adoption papers settled atop the kitchen table. He was the one who had laid them there, of course. His very own hands had placed the papers gingerly onto the tabletop, and they've sat there since the day he got home from the hospital with Love.

He didn't want to use them. But he had to. Love reminded him to exactly of his beloved Cherry. As much as he wanted to let his late mistress go, as much as he wished he could just forget; he never would. He'd never be able to forget her. And if he did, he was a fool. Because a love which is forgotten was never a love at all.

He knew the only release he had was to kill himself. Put an end to the pain. An end to the loneliness. That was the only true way he could forget about her. Let her go. Because there was no way on earth he was letting this go. He simply couldn't let it be; even if she had ordered it of him. When you've finally found the other piece of your heart, you can't let it go. You simply can't.

Dallas was running away from the spirit of his beloved and he knew it. He knew he was being a coward. What had happened to the Dallas Winston who went around jumping Socs? What happened to the tuff Dallas Winston that everyone feared? What happened to the Dallas Winston who was known solely because of his lack of emotion? Did that Dallas Winston ever truly exist in the first place? Could someone really lack all emotion? Of course not.

Everything in the world would remind him of her. Everything. The beauty of the world, though it could never compare to her, was an immediate reminder. The way the wind would blow on a warm day would bring memories of her hair, flowing gracefully around her face. The trees would remind him of the time they escaped reality and ran away into the woods, away from her parents and their friends, and they stayed there for only a couple of hours. He had carved their names into one of those trees. A rough, sloppily carved heart encloses each of the initials. She had gaped at him when he pulled out the switch blade. She had backed away slightly, unsure of his intentions. He had shook his head and carried out his plans. And she had smiled at what he created. She had smiled and kissed him on the cheek while her soft giggles fluttered from her soft lips. The carving is probably still there, settled into the tree it calls home, proof of a love which the whole world has yet to know even exists.

A sudden cry echoed from the little room beside his own, and Dallas got up to check on his daughter. His daughter. That was such a strange thing to ponder. It seemed impossible to his that a greaser like him, tuff and supposedly coldhearted could be the father of such a vulnerable little girl. He entered the room he and Cherry had prepared before they even knew Love was a girl, painted a soft green and trimmed white. He loped quietly to the edge of the crib and peered over the side. Immediately the baby's crying ceased, and she looked up, a toothless smile spreading sweetly across her chubby face. Dallas cocked his head and smiled back at her with a sad, halfhearted grin. She just stared up at him with that same smile as high-pitched, gentle giggles escaped her pink lips. Tears began to spill from his eyes as Dallas went to pick the child up. As he bent over, a small paper fell out of his pocket and fluttered down to the carpet, settling itself at his feet. Dallas reached over and picked it up.

It was a picture of him and Cherry.

She looked as beautiful as ever, her hair was straight and up in a loose ponytail, her bangs swaying over her face as she smiled at Dallas. He was smiling back at her, a cocky, pointed grin, his lemon coloured hair was swooping down over his eyes, which danced with a forgotten happiness. He smiled at the picture and put it safely back into his shirt pocket.

He reached over the crib and grabbed the tiny girl, pulling her up close to his chest. He rocked her back and forth, planting kisses in her hair until she was asleep.

''Daddy loves you Cherry.'' He whispered. That's what he'd call her now. Cherry. It suited her just as well as her mother before her. He placed the sleeping child back into the crib and crept carefully back into the kitchen, grabbing the adoption papers, and promptly ripping them up before rolling them into a ball and tossing them effortlessly into the trash.

A/N:

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it. It's based off of the music video for Nickelback's song Lullaby. I love that song. But yeah.

PLEASE REVIEW.

Stay gold and stay tuff,

-Attempting-To-Stay-Gold-