Last Chance
by: FrankieLouWho
disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Walking Dead. OBVIOUSLY.
notes: sorry this has taken so long! if you follow me on tumblr, you might have seen that I've had a really heinous case of writer's block lately. this came to me at a random time, and I simply wrote it all out as fast as I could. I hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry for the lack of "present" Daryl, but he hasn't wanted to be written. next chapter, hopefully.
so please, read & review. reviews feed my muse and make me not want to abandon this story! :]
Chapter Three - Past - October, 1998
Daryl dislikes holidays, if only because they remind him of how overwhelmingly alone he is. Ever since his mom passed, the house trailer has been empty most of the time. His father is out every night, getting drunk, chasing women. He's been gone for a week now with some bartender from a local shit-hole, and while Daryl doesn't miss having to flinch out of the way of his alcohol-fueled anger - or the blows that follow when he tries to dodge the first - he does miss Merle, who has been doing a stint in juvie for the past month. Halloween is today, and as he gets himself ready for school, munching on stale Saltine crackers as he pulls a T-shirt from the line he's strung up in the bathroom, Daryl feels a sinking sensation. It's dread.
Holidays that during the school year always mean classroom parties, which mean parents. Mrs. Richardson had been ranting about it all week, sending home paper reminders that they need chaperones and volunteers, people to bring in soda and juice and candy and snacks. The parents that show up are always moms, always over-bearing and up in their kids' business. Moms with no lives outside of their children. Daryl doesn't understand what thats about, but he also knows those moms are the ones that pay too much attention to everything. Like him.
He pulls out one of Merle's flannel shirts from his brother's closet, blue eyes flicking to the girly posters on the back of his closet door. A blonde with big boobs and tan skin and brown eyes that peer out at him, half-lidded, her cherry-red lips parted, is what Daryl always manages to stare at for a few long moments. Something in his stomach churns, and the sensation isn't unpleasant but Daryl doesn't like it because he can't decipher what it means. As he shrugs on the black and white checked shirt, covering the old, fading bruises and scratches on his arms, Daryl studies the familiar poster for a bit before shaking the fog out of his head. He slams the door shut and stomps out of Merle's bedroom and back into the living room. He snatches his ragged old backpack off the chair near the door and shoulders it.
He was only nine, but he was beginning to think that women were the root of all evil. All problems.
The bus is pulling up as he gets to the stop, and Daryl is glad that he hasn't missed it again. Had to walk all the way into town last week, having woken up late and alone sometime in mid-morning. He plunks himself down and hugs the window, pressing his knees into the back of the seat in front of him. No one will sit next to him; everyone knows better. Daryl doesn't know why he dislikes people so much, but he's glad that they recognize the strong 'leave me the fuck alone' vibes he's sending out. Maybe people aren't as stupid as he believes.
When he gets to school, Daryl remembers that it's Halloween because all of his classmates are dressed up in ridiculous and preposterous costumes. A group of girls are clumped near the double doors in front of the building, wearing bright colorful dresses, tiaras, fairy wings. Daryl ducks his head and ignores them as he enters the school.
Throughout the school day, his thoughts wander to Beth Greene. Ever since Valentine's Day last year, things have been different between them. Daryl wouldn't call her his friend, but she was definitely something similar to that. They aren't in the same class this year, but whenever she sees him in the hallways, the cafeteria, on the playground at recess, her smile is always brilliant, mega-watt, blinding. Sometimes, when they cross paths alone in the hallway - both on their way to the bathroom or the library or running an errand for a teacher, in Beth's case, because she's a teacher's pet like that - Beth will say, "Hi Daryl," in a sweet voice that makes his heart beat harder and his stomach churn, like that dirty poster in Merle's closet. Not the same intensity, but the same sensation.
He wonders what she's dressed up like for Halloween. If she's going to be trick-or-treating. Daryl will not be - he never went in his life, ever. Dad said it was shameful, sending kids out to bed strangers for candy. Every year he turned off the front light and didn't answer the knocks on the door when the neighborhood kids paraded about in the costumes. Daryl might have been upset about this when he was smaller, but now... It definitely wasn't something he felt he missed out on.
At almost the end of the day, Mrs. Richardson tells them to put away their books and get ready for the party. The moms have arrived, setting up a buffet of treats in the back of the classroom. One mother is taking endless pictures of her kid, Samantha, who is dressed up in a a short black dress and high heels. She pouts and holds up a peace sign at the camera... Daryl has no idea what she's supposed to be - but she's Beth's friend, the one from the playground in first grade, and Daryl goes out of his way to ignore her. She's annoying, way worse than most of the girls he knows, and her high, giggley voice gets under Daryl's skin and makes him uneasy. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Samantha hugs her mom, and the woman bends down to press a kiss to her hair.
Blushing at their display, an uncomfortably lump lodging in his throat, Daryl turns his hard stare to the door. He's surprised when he finds Beth and three other girls standing there talking to Mrs. Richardson. They're dressed up as well, but he doesn't take notice of what the other girls are wearing - just Beth.
Her golden-blonde hair is pulled into two high pigtails, her smiling lips are shiny and pinker than normal. She's wearing a pink dress, super short, with knee-socks and sneakers with soles probably three inches thick. A sucker is poking out of the corner of her mouth, and her blue eyes are wide and sparkling with excitement. Daryl furrows his brow in confusion, trying to fathom what she's supposed to be... Why couldn't she be a princess, or a cheerleader, or a lady bug? Those were easy. She would be cute as any of them.
Daryl pretends not to notice as the gaggle of girls amble into the room, and Samantha squeals delightedly, detaching from her mother. The girls hug like they haven't seen each other in years, even though they were probably together at lunch and recess like everyone else. Daryl feels eyes on him and does his best to control the swell of irritation that washes over him. He suspects that it's Beth, and when he tilts his head slightly to the side, peeking through his lashes, he finds her sky-blue gaze on his form. Clenching his jaw, Daryl returns his focus to the Louis L'Amore book in his hands. The pages are crinkled from being fisted in his hands.
After everyone gets their fill of snacks and treats, Daryl pushes back from his desk and sidles to the line. His body is anxious, taut and tense, as he gazes at all of the treats laid out before him. He gets free-lunch every day at school, so he's not starving, but the cupboards at home are bare. Daryl's been surviving off of his free-lunch and crackers, cans of baked beans and corn. His dad needed to come home soon.
As Daryl snatches a cupcake from the table, he senses someone beside him. Glancing to his right, he finds Beth standing there with a big smile on her pretty face. He tries not to stare, but she's wearing make-up and close up, he can see the differences from her normal state. Her eyelashes are darker, thicker, longer - making her eyes appear even bigger than usual. A light blush warms her round cheeks.
"Hey," she says, her voice soft and light. "Happy Halloween, Daryl."
He gives her a half-smile and nod in response, and Beth smiles bigger as his eyes trace over her costume. "What're you s'posed to be?"
"Baby Spice!" Beth exclaims. She does a little spin before posing, hand on her cocked hip, the other hand flashing a peace sign in his face. Daryl's face is blank - he has no idea what Baby Space is, and the incredulous look on Beth's face makes him realize that it's odd that he doesn't. "Ya know, Daryl - the Spice Girls? Girl Power?"
"Uh," he grunts, shaking his head. He shoves the cupcake in his mouth for something to do, hating the feeling of not knowing. It's not his fault he doesn't have cable. Beth smirks at him, cheeks puffed out with cake and frosting, and shakes her head. Her pigtails quiver and gleam under the bright flourescent lights in the classroom.
"They're a band. They're awesome," Beth adds. "Are you going trick or treating?"
"That's for babies," Daryl says, after he chokes down the dry vanilla cake. He swallows hard and reaches for one of the juice boxes on the table. Maybe he stabs the straw through the hole with a little too much force, making Hi-C Orange dribble out. He lifts his hand and sucks the moisture from the crux of his thumb and index finger, watching Beth with interested, unguarded eyes. She stomps her foot and shoots him an angry look.
"It is not! Maggie's going, and she's in seventh grade. And she's not a baby." Beth's tone leaves no room for argument, and Daryl hides a little smile - he's realized that seeing her riled up is something he enjoys a lot. Her face flushes and her eyes narrow, but still manage to sparkle. She's prettiest when she's angry.
"Whatever you say, Baby Girl," Daryl says, holding his hands up.
"It's Baby Spice," Beth corrects, folding her arms over her chest with a huff.
"Whatever," Daryl says. He can't help but chuckle - Beth Greene is probably the only person in the whole school that wasn't afraid of him. Snapping at him, letting her anger show - even teachers try to hide their irritation with his sullen, aloof attitude. But not Beth. She's fierce and unafraid, and part of Daryl recognizes that she's the only one that doesn't treat him like a wounded animal, something that will lash out when poked. Beth rather enjoys poking him, Daryl suspects. He enjoys letting her.
"Beth! C'mon, we're gonna take pictures!" Samantha calls. Beth gives Daryl an apologetic smile, and he nods towards her friends, wordlessly telling her to go on. Her small hand wraps around his wrist, squeezing softly through the old, worn flannel material of his brother's shirt, before she dashes off. Daryl stares down at his arm in surprise, feeling warmth and tingles even though she didn't touch his skin. For the rest of the day, as he rode the bus home from school, as he turned off the lights and ignored the trick-or-treaters that banged on his door, Daryl's thoughts remain on Beth. On his wrist.
The feeling in his stomach is back, making him uneasy and hot all at the same time. It's worse than looking at Merle's dirty girl poster, now.
Present - May, 2014
Beth woke to a warm body snuggled against her own and froze, just for the slightest of moments, panicked. Her first thought is Daryl, and even in her mind the name is gasped. But she shifts, inhales, and realizes that the scent is lavender, belongs to her sister, and the memories of the previous night wash over her like a bucket of ice-water dumped over her head. Inhaling sharply, Beth relaxes in her sister's arms, taking comfort from her limbs tangled together, the strong, steady heart-beat reassuring her that Maggie is safe, alive. After a few moments, her heart-rate slowing to a much healthier rhythm, Beth carefully unwinds herself from Maggie's sleep-heavy cuddles. Standing, Beth glances around.
It's still night time. Darkness envelopes the bedroom, and Beth yawns. Her eyes are sore, swollen from crying, and her cheeks feel raw from the salty tears that refused to cease. They had lost another member of the family. Otis - Beth's breath hitches as the image of his kind, warm face flitters through her mind. She had fallen asleep to her sister's weak whimpers, Patricia's loud, unrestrained sobs from down the hall. The woman had lost her husband, her sweetheart, and Beth's heart is heavy as she thinks about those implications...
Even though she's unhappy with him, Beth is more than thankful that Daryl Dixon is alive and well on her father's farm. She's not the kind of person to wish anyone ill will, but especially not him. No matter how he hurt her, Daryl had also given her moments of extreme happiness, made her feel loved and beautiful... Sighing, Beth kneels on the window-seat and pushes aside the curtains. It is dark and still down below, everyone is tucked safely into their tents. Leaning her forehead against the cool glass, she wonders what he's doing down there. She wonders how he's feeling.
"Bethy? What're you doing?" She whips her head around, surprised to see Maggie sitting up in the bed, rubbing her eyes groggily.
"I just - couldn't sleep," Beth lies. She doesn't want to reveal she is looking for Daryl, because she didn't realize she had been. However, the guilty blush on her cheeks and the way her eyes lingered on his tent, on the edge of the property, gives her away. Beth can make out Maggie patting the mattress beside her in the darkness of the bedroom, and the youngest Greene sighs but complies. Both girls lay on their backs, hip to hip, on the bed.
"Daddy says that Daryl Dixon is here," Maggie says. Beth can hear the gentle teasing in her voice, and rolls her eyes, huffs, in annoyance. "Don't act like that, Bethany Anne Greene. I know you like a book - your entire first album should have been called 'Dear Daryl, I Hate Yer Stinkin' Guts,' ya know." Both girls giggle helplessly.
"He's here," is all Beth says once the laughter subsides.
"And..? Did he speak to you? Did he apologize for being such a dick?" Maggie presses. Beth feels her shift and suddenly feels fingertips running softly through her hair. She snuggles closer into her big sister's arm, taking immense comfort in the simple gesture. It's something their mother always did, before she got sick. Reminds Beth of being a little girl in her mother's loving embrace.
"I might have fainted," Beth admits, and Maggie throws back her head, laughing out-right and loud.
"Such a drama queen, Bethy!" In the dark, the darker sister smiles fondly down at her younger, lighter counterpart.
"He put me into bed and when I came to, I kicked him out of my room. I didn't know what to say - I still don't," Beth adds. She chews her full bottom lip thoughtfully, replaying the earlier events in her head quietly. The way the muscles in his arms bulged as he gripped the strap of his crossbow, the messy hair falling into his piercing blue eyes. She is insanely, stupidly attracted to him, still. She felt like an idiot.
"Well, I would start with, "You're a heartless asshole that stomped all over my heart. But thanks, because in the long run, I guess it all worked out." I mean - you are the millionaire super-star singer now," Maggie points out.
"What does that matter? With all the sickness and death surrounding us, I highly doubt a platinum record is going to impress Daryl." Beth suspects that even before this fatal virus outbreak, he wouldn't be too thrilled. Material things have never been Daryl's interest - then again, growing up as he had... A sad smile plays over her lips as she imagines him at ten, a latchkey kid with ill-fitting, second-hand clothes and a shiner. Daryl never had a chance, as a kid - grown up, older and wiser, Beth's heart breaks just a little for him.
"They'll find a cure," Maggie says. "Things'll go back to normal, Bethy. They have to."
Sighing, Beth turns into her sister's side, hiding her face in Maggie's neck and winding her arm around her waist. She hasn't been in this position with anyone since Daryl, but the tangible warmth of Maggie, strong and solid and healthy beside her, comforts Beth more than she realizes. Feeling her eyelids grow heavy, she breathes in the familiar lavender smell of her sister's lotion, letting the soothing scent lull her into sleep.
"Tomorrow," Maggie whispers into her sister's blonde hair. "Tomorrow, things will make sense." She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take her away.
so what did you think? how was it? I couldn't resist throwing in the Spice Girls, maybe I'm old but that was the best shit in the world to me in fourth grade! haha. I hope you enjoyed, please let me know!