It seemed like forever since Beth's delicate fingers had touched ivory keys. The instrument lured her in, as if a magnetic force was omitting from this forgotten piano. How long had it been sitting here, alone, pleading for wear from a learned musician to coax a melody from its stiff chords? Maybe during a service before the outbreak grew so severe this mortuary could not keep up with the demand? As ugly as the world had become, Beth knew she could always find some sort of temporary solace in song. With Maggie ripped away from her, and her father murdered right before her very eyes, it was a wonder that she could find her voice at all. She knew she couldn't afford to submerge her thoughts in defeat. She had gone down that ugly road before. Difficult as it was, she would maintain her humanity, find her sister, and live. Like her father had said, If you don't have hope, what's the point of living?
She sat on the bench, feeling the wood creak beneath her as she settled in. Her hands hovered above the keys momentarily as her mind sifted through the vast musical library in her head. Fingers finding the keys, she began to sing. Daryl leaned against the door frame, listening for a stolen moment. He wouldn't admit it, but her voice had a soothing effect on him.
"…and pine for summer. And we'll buy a beer to shotgun, and we'll lay in the lawn and we'll be good…"
Clearing his throat, Daryl interrupted as he stepped into her private moment. "The place is nailed up tight, only way in's through the front door," he said, making his way to the open casket, his steps labored. He sighed as he pushed his body up with a small grunt landing on the plush white fabric inside of the casket. Swinging his legs into it, he layer back and nestled his body in the space.
"What are you doin'?" she asked, hunching her shoulders slightly, perplexed at Daryl's actions. Was he tempting fate? She shuddered at the thought, consciously making an effort to push the idea far out of her mind.
Unamused, Daryl responded with a factual, "This is the comfiest bed I've had in years," a hint of humor in his voice. He let out a sigh and rested the back of his hand on his forehead.
"Really?"
"I ain't kiddin'," he replied, his eyes finding hers. The soft candlelight highlighted her rounded features, reflecting off her large doe like eyes. She held his gaze for a small moment, and Beth noted that he looked at her with a little more respect now, not just a burden like before. With everything they had been through together, she would be lying if she didn't admit to herself that they had grown emotionally close since burning down the moonshine still.
Beth had been talking about finding the good in people. Whether or not Daryl wanted to admit it, he was good. She heard about how committed he was to finding Carol's daughter, and saw how he showed affection and care with Judith. And of course there was the way he looked after Beth, going out of his way to keep her safe these last couple of weeks.
Daryl forced himself to speak, snapping both of them from the daze. "Why don't ya go ahead and play some more. Keep singing," he said, his tone saddling both a request and command. A small smile formed on Beth's lips, though she fought to suppress it in case he was teasing.
"I thought my singing annoyed you," she asked, slightly fearful of his answer.
"Well, there ain't no jukebox, so." his eyes found her for a moment before she turned around to once again face the piano. Daryl watched her as muscle memory compelled her body to move with the instrument, pressing the keys softly as her sweet voice filled the room. His fingertips found his lips as he watched her play before leaning back and relaxing. He thought of Hershel and how proud he'd be to know his daughter fought hard to survive, and was making it.
He felt his eyelids get heavy as he slipped into a sleep, surrendering to the combination of Beth's voice, the soft lighting, and his tired body.
….
Now they were on the run again. Daryl wasn't expecting the herd of walkers to greet him at the door the previous night. He thought it was just that mangy one eyed mutt from earlier. Just goes to show you don't let your guard down, he scolded himself. If anything happened to Beth, he never would have forgiven himself. With her injured ankle, what would she have done? How would she have defended herself? Her words haunted him.
You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon.
He knew she was right. Beth vocalized what he couldn't; he needed her. He was tired of losing people, and Beth had restored his faith in humanity. She was precious to him in a way no one else was.
...
A/N Hello! So I'm new, obviously. Such a short chapter! I know this stuff already happened, and I gave a play-by-play of the scene in the episode, but I just wanted to lay the groundwork for what is to come. I've got my own plot devices, some OC's, drama, walkers, and of course, BETHYL! So please read, review, and leave tips or suggestions on what you'd like to see happen in this story.
