Don't Own TWD
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! Hope you're all enjoying the new chapters.
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TWENTY
Be Good
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The funeral home was an all white, two-story colonial. Daryl carried Beth and the baby all the way to the front door. Charlotte began to rouse when Daryl handed her and her carrier over to Beth. Beth softly shushed her and rubbed her little back. Daryl prepared his crossbow and opened the door.
The inside was neat and prim. The walls were covered in floral wallpaper, the floors were dark wood and the staircase had a decorative bannister. Daryl pounded the doorway with his hand to attract any lingering walkers. When nothing happened, he gave out a little whistle.
The commotion woke Charlotte and she turned her head to the sound of her father's whistle. Her blue eyes became alert and she made a humming sound.
"Give it a minute." Daryl muttered when Beth peered her head inside to see the house from the inside.
When nothing reared its ugly head, Daryl gave the okay to go in. He went in first and kept his crossbow positioned to shoot anything that came at them last minute. Beth stepped in after him with Charlotte and closed the door behind her.
"It's so clean." She commented, gazing around the place. There were no signs of cobwebs or a single speck of dust.
"Yeah, someone's been livin' here." Daryl replied. "They could still be around…so keep yer guard up."
Beth settled Charlotte securely in her carried and grabbed her gun. She followed Daryl into a room on the left where there were multiple chairs aligned next to one another. All of them were facing a coffin against the far wall. In the coffin lay the body of a well-preserved man.
When Beth approached, she placed her hand over Charlotte's eyes so the baby wouldn't see. Charlotte had already seen her fair share of corpses in her short life but Beth still felt uneasy about it all.
Daryl reached over to the man's face and wiped off the make up from his cheek, revealing the man's real green and gray rotting skin.
Down in the basement, they found two more bodies laid to rest on metal slabs. They were dressed in suits, ready to be prepared for burial. It was as if someone was still doing the job they had before the world went to absolute shit.
Beth hesitated on entering the room.
"Ah?" Charlotte made a little babble, turning her head so she could see what was behind her.
Daryl searched the cabinets for anything useful. He found some bandages and took them. "Let's get that ankle wrapped." He ripped the package with his teeth. He then noticed Beth staring at the corpses.
"Someone ran out of dolls to dress."
"I don't know, it's kind of beautiful." Beth replied, "They must have cared. It's like they still remembered these things used to be people... before all of this. They didn't let the world change them." She looked up at Daryl, "Don't you think it's beautiful?"
They locked eyes, studying each other's expressions, expecting a response from one another. Daryl knew Beth was still so full of hope for the world and for themselves. He could tell from the look in her big blues that pleaded him to believe the same thing. Still, Daryl couldn't exactly agree but he didn't want to disagree with her. Instead, he looked away and approached her, taking a hold of her arm and lead her to the counter.
"C'mon, gotta get that ankle wrapped."
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The kitchen in the home was kept spotless as well. The cabinets were the first thing they raided. When the two opened the cabinets, they were amazed to find multiple cans of food, bottles of soda, fruit jars, boxes of cakes and macaroni.
"PB&J, peanut butter, pig's feet—looks like a good ol' red neck lunch, don't it, kid?" He asked Charlotte.
Charlotte turned her head to look at him and flashed him a two-toothed grin. She kicked her legs and jumped up and down in her harness.
"Ya bet she's old enough to try some peanut butter?" Daryl asked Beth.
"Probably not." She replied, "It's not that easy to eat."
"Yeah," He agreed, "Could get stuck in 'er mouth."
"All this looks so good." Beth grabbed a can of assorted vegetables and a jar of peanut butter.
Daryl stooped, "Wait a minute…"
"What?"
"There isn't a speck of dust on this…" The realization came to him, "This is someone's stash." He nodded to himself after thinking about it, "Alright, we'll take some and leave some."
Beth smiled, "I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You do care. Like I said, there are still some good people."
Daryl opened a jar of grape jam, stuck his two fingers inside and them shoved them in his mouth in front of Beth.
"Oh, gross." Beth turned to walk away with her chosen treats. "Don't start teachin' her those kinds of manners." She referred to Charlotte.
"Fine but those pig feet—they're mine."
"You can have 'em. Huh, Lottie? We don't want no gross pig feet."
Charlotte smiled and gave out a little squeal.
"Don't be surprised." Daryl took another finger full of jam, "Kid's gonna end up more like her old man than ya think."
Beth smiled down at Charlotte, "Is that so?"
Charlotte reached her little hand towards the jar of peanut butter in her mother's hand.
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Daryl nailed shut all the doors and windows to the house except the one to the front door. He laid out a thin rope out on the front porch with dangling empty cans to alert them if anything came through.
Beth was in the room with the chairs and the casket. Daryl had taken out the body and buried it out back. Charlie sat upon a little blanket on the ground next to the piano. She had two empty red cups in her hands and was bashing them together. She was sitting up on her own now. Beth called it a milestone. Daryl was just grateful his child had made it to six months. She was a tough little thing and every day she survived was some kind of miracle.
When Daryl entered the room, he stood under the doorway. It was the sound of the piano that had caught his attention and brought him into the room.
Beth was playing; she sang a song along with it. Charlotte abandoned the cups and watched with wide and interested eyes, completely transfixed by the music her mother was playing. She loved to hear Beth sing.
Daryl took in the moment, knowing very well they didn't get one as such every day and when they did, they had to get a hold of it, remember it and cherish it.
It was just the way things were.
Beth stopped playing and turned back to look at Daryl. She smiled softly and looked down to Charlotte. "I think she likes it."
"Me too." Daryl agreed.
Beth looked at him again not sure if he was agreeing with the fact that their child liked her singing, or if he too liked it just as much as Charlotte did. It was hard to tell with Daryl. But Beth was trying.
Daryl walked around the chairs, "Place is all nailed shut. The only way in or out is the front door."
Beth nodded at the information.
Daryl leaned down and picked Charlotte off the ground. "Gonna get a good night's sleep, aren't we baby girl?" He lifted her up over his head.
Charlotte giggled in utter glee and reached down to touch Daryl's face. Beth too smiled at the scene before her.
Daryl lowered the baby and took notice in the casket behind him. He sat Charlotte inside and then climbed in himself, laying back down on it. Charlotte grabbed onto his vest and pulled herself forward, crawling over to where his shoulder was.
Beth was amused, "What are you doing?"
"It's the comfiest bed I've had in years." He lay back on the pillow, making himself at home.
Charlotte sat at his side, right besides his chest and brought her little hands down upon him, patting Daryl's chest. "Ya should go ahead and play some more." Daryl suggested, "Keep singing." He reached over and caressed the back of Charlotte's hair.
"I thought my singin' annoyed you."
"There ain't no juke box so…" Daryl joked.
Beth smiled and turned around back to the piano where she continued to play and sing. "Now I'm laughing at my boredom, at my string of failed attempts. Because you think that it's important and I welcome the sentiment…"
Daryl listened to Beth's soft voice, glancing at their child who was playing with a button on his vest as he did so. He watched her little eyes focus on the button; lashes caress her cheeks every time she blinked. He watched her mousy curls around her ears and her chubby cheeks. He wished that moment wouldn't end.
"And we talk on the phone at night until it's daylight. And I feel clever, and I hear the slow in your speech. Yeah, you're half asleep. Say goodnight."
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Daryl was the first to wake in the morning. He prepared "breakfast" for the three of them. Well, the two of them since Charlotte was still on the milk. On the small table in the kitchen he laid out two liter bottles of soda, two jars of mandarins and two jars of peanut butter. After, he found a milk crate and placed one of Charlotte's blankets inside and sat it on one of the chairs.
When Beth was up and done feeding Charlotte, Daryl took the baby to the kitchen and told Beth to hold on. He then came back for her and carried her to the kitchen where he had it all set up.
Beth almost wanted to laugh when she saw Charlotte sitting in the milk crate at the table.
"Ain't no high chairs." He explained but Beth didn't mind.
Daryl sat her down in another chair across from his and next to Charlotte. "Let's eat." He reached over for the jar of mandarins and opened it. He dropped the lid on the table and it circled until it lay limp.
Both Beth and Daryl looked up and at one another when they heard the cans rattling outside. They both stood immediately. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and pointed at Beth, "Stay." He ordered since her ankle was still a bit bruised.
Beth took Charlotte out of the crate and held her. She waited a moment, listening to the sound of the door creaking as Daryl opened it.
"It's just a damn dog!" He called back.
Daryl knelt down to be at level with the dirty white dog that appeared to only have one eye. "Hi." He spoke softly and reached his hand out to him, "C'mere, boy."
The dog gave out a little yelp and ran off, ringing the cans as he did. Daryl stood and closed the door behind him. When he turned he found Beth with Charlotte in arms.
"He didn't come in?" She asked, raising the baby higher in her arms.
"I told you to stay back."
Beth smiled slightly, "Yeah, but, Daryl, you said there was a dog."
She was sure Charlotte had never seen a dog in real life before and would of liked to have seen her reaction to it.
Daryl noted the excitement in Beth's eyes and decided not to scold her any further. He placed his hand on her shoulder, "Maybe he'll come back around. C'mon."
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The two spent the day meandering around the home, waiting for anyone to show up. Who ever had left the food there had obviously been living there and would return sooner or later.
Beth spent the afternoon out on the front porch with the baby, keeping an eye out for the dog but there was no sign of it. Daryl sat out with her, not wanting to leave them alone.
Charlotte began to squirm in Beth's lap so Beth held her from under the arms and stood her up on the porch, facing Daryl.
"Yeah? That better sweetheart?" Daryl asked when Charlotte stopped fussing and began to smile.
Beth leaned her head forward to look at Charlotte's smile and couldn't help to do so also. "Soon she's gonna be walkin' right up to her daddy, aren't ya?"
The title still made Daryl's stomach flip. He often felt like he didn't deserve such a name and especially one given to him by the arrival of such a special little person. Nevertheless, every time he looked at her he realized he had never loved anything that ferociously before and it scared him how much more that love would grow as she did.
"Better be soon, kid. Ain't gonna be carryin' ya around forever."
Beth laughed, "Don't be mean."
"Ain't bein' mean. Bein' honest."
Charlotte squatted down and then jumped back up, trying to reach over for Daryl. She kicked a little leg out but was still too weak to try and walk on her own. So Daryl reached out for her and sat her upon his lap. Charlotte reached up to his face and tried to yank on his lip.
"Squirmy, ain't she?" He asked.
"Just a tad."
Beth glanced around the place. She hadn't seen a single walker since they left the woods. "Do you think the people that live here will come back?"
Daryl was too preoccupied with Charlotte to look away. "Dunno. Maybe."
"What if they don't?"
"Then they don't."
Beth leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees. She studied Charlotte on Daryl's lap and gave out a soft sigh. "Lottie seems happy here, don't she?"
"Little squirt looks all right to me."
"I keep thinkin' about the farm." Beth said out of no where.
Daryl glanced up from the baby to look at Beth.
"And how much Lottie would have liked it there."
"Sure she would of."
"Ya think so?" She met his gaze.
Daryl nodded. "Yeah."
Beth laid her cheek on her fist and studied the baby in her father's lap. "Do ya think one day we can give her a home? Like a real home."
"Maybe." Daryl too looked at the baby, "Ain't no place safe enough now a days."
"You can't really still think that, can you?"
"Farm wasn't safe, prison wasn't either." Daryl muttered, still feeling resentment over what had happened there. They had lost too much that day.
"The prison could have been home…if there weren't bad people causin' harm." Beth implied.
"There's always gonna be bad people…ain't nothin' to stop that."
The baby cooed and both her parents looked at her.
"Gonna have to start teachin' 'er that too." Daryl continued.
"There's still good people, Daryl. Like the people that live here. She's gotta know that too." Beth smiled at the baby, "She's gotta have hope."
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Charlotte's incoming teeth weren't a joke and her fussiness doubled throughout the evening. Beth decided to take her out for a walk along the graves. Her foot was feeling better and she could have used some fresh air. Daryl stayed on the porch keeping an eagle eye on them.
Beth sat Charlotte on her hip and strolled along the tombstones. She read the names and dates on the tombs; the majority of them were before the early 1900s and Beth grew curious of how old the house actually was. She also couldn't help to think about how lucky the deceased were to have lived full, normal lives before the end came to wipe humanity away.
Beth stopped at a small tombstone with the words "Sweet Child" carved in followed by the date "1864-1866". She felt a sadness fall to the pit of her stomach and kissed Charlotte's temple, feeling beyond lucky to have her.
Charlotte grew impatient and gave out a whiney cry.
"Shh, shh," Beth rubbed her back, "Oh all the money that e'er I spent…I spent it in good company…" She sang softly and slowly to her to calm her down.
Once Charlotte heard her mother's singing voice she came to a calm and Beth continued to walk along the tombs, keeping close to the house and in view of Daryl.
"And all the harm that e'er I've done…Alas, it was to none but me…" Beth stopped singing but kept Charlotte close to her chest, resting her cheek upon her small head. She had this feeling deep inside of her, as if someone had reached into her chest and tightly gripped her heart. She couldn't fathom the thought of losing her child like those parents had lost theirs and so many others had too. Beth wasn't strong enough for that.
She stopped and leaned down to pick a yellow dandelion from the grass. She plucked it and showed it to Charlotte, "Look, ain't it pretty, Lottie?"
Charlotte reached to grab it in her grubby little hand, squishing it.
Beth laughed lightly and kissed her chubby cheek, "I love you, Lottie." She spoke softly to her, "To the moon and back."
Beth held the little girl close, "You always gotta be good, Lottie. Always be kind to those who deserve it."
Beth glanced to where Daryl stood on the porch. "Be especially good for your daddy, he needs you a lot." She smiled at the girl that reached for her face, "I know you will."
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When night fell upon the funeral home, Beth put Charlotte to sleep in her basket and she and Daryl continued feasting on their jars of chosen treats in the kitchen. They sat at the table with a few candles to light the room.
Daryl noticed Beth writing a note. "What is that?"
"I'm leavin' the people a thank you note."
"Why?" He questioned.
"For when they come back…" She paused, "If they come back."
Daryl eyed Beth for a moment. She was leaving a thank you for someone she didn't even know. Sometimes Daryl couldn't fathom the size of goodness Beth had in her. She always talked about there being good people out in the world but as far as Daryl was concerned, Beth was the only good one left standing. He wanted to let her know that. He wanted to express it in an obvious way that over time, she had become that light at the end of the dark tunnel. Beth and their little girl had given him the hope he always denied having. Daryl wasn't good with words and knew if he ever let that kind of mush out of his mouth Beth would never let him live it down.
"Maybe ya don't have to write that." He said instead.
Beth eyed him with confusion and curiosity.
"Maybe we can stay here a little longer. Even if they come back…we'll find a way to make it work. They're insane but we can make it work." He nodded to himself, liking the sound of that idea, "Could raise the girl here. Make it home."
Beth couldn't help but to smile. She liked the idea of Charlotte having a permanent home. "So you do think there are good people out there. What changed your mind?"
Daryl held her gaze. He wanted to say, "You." But didn't. Instead he uttered, "You know."
"Know what?" Beth tried to coax it out of him.
Daryl tried not to look to amused. He dug his spoon into the jam and mumbled, "Dunno."
Beth mimicked him with a shrug and a mumble, "Don't…mmmm." She kept her gaze on him, "What changed it?"
Daryl continued to stare at her like the answer was written on his forehead. Beth waited, watching the emotions he held deep in his eyes. Then the answer came to her, "Oh…"
As soon as she spoke, they heard a dog barking outside followed by the dangling of the cans. Daryl reached over for a jar of food, "I'm gonna give that mutt one last chance." He stood to his feet and went to open the front door.
Instead of being greeted by the one eyed dog, Daryl was greeted by multiple rotting faces. He jumped and quickly shoved the door shut but the dead were already forcing their way through.
"Beth! Beth!" He shouted.
Beth came into the foyer with the crossbow in hand. She tossed it over to Daryl and he caught it with one hand. "Run! Get the kid and run!"
Beth ran to the living room and picked up Charlotte from the basket, securing her in her arms. Charlotte roused from her deep slumber and began to fuss.
Unable to hold the door any longer, Daryl pushed away and ran deeper into the house. "Beth!" he called out, "Pry open a window! Get the baby's shit and get out!"
"We're not going to leave you!" Beth called from somewhere in the house. It was dark and they could barely see their way through.
Daryl could hear Charlotte begin to whine. Her cries were bound to rile up the dead even more but he didn't care about that. All he cared about what getting his girls out of the house. "Get out to the road, I'll meet you there!" He ordered.
Beth stood in the hall with the baby in her arms and the basket dangling from her hand. She could barely see Daryl in the pitch-dark hallway, a crowd of walkers behind him. "Go!" He urged her.
Beth no longer hesitated and ran down the hall and into a room with a window close to the ground. She shut the door behind her and hurried to the window, dropping her pack down. Beth laid Charlotte back down in her basket. Charlotte kicked and protested.
"Shh, shh, it's okay baby, Daddy'll be right behind us." She pried open the window with great force and climbed out once the coast was clear. She then reached in and pulled the basket with Charlotte in it out and ran to the road like Daryl had ordered.
Inside the house, Daryl hurried down to the basement where he barricaded himself behind one of the slabs. He aimed his crossbow and shot a bolt at the first walker that came stumbling down the stairs. After, the entire crowd came fumbling down pinning Daryl and the slab against the wall. Daryl pulled out his knife and stabbed one by one in the head and through the eyes. He lost grip of the knife and used one of the syringes on the slab to do the work. When the crowd began to overpower him, Daryl ducked under the slab and made his way through the tiny room and up the window, slashing down walkers in his way.
He ran through front door of the house and out into the night where Beth was waiting for him out by the road. The closer he got to the road, the louder Charlotte's cries became. A walker stepped out from behind the trees and took Daryl by surprise. He didn't hesitate and used one of the bolt's to crack its skull open and pierce its brain. The corpse fell limp and Daryl continued onto the road.
He could hear Charlotte's cries coming from the dark but couldn't see Beth. When he approached the road, he saw Beth's pack on the ground, a bottle and a few diapers had spilled out. Daryl's eyes went further up the road where he saw Charlotte's basket. He heard the screeching of wheels and looked up to see a black car with a white painted cross on the back window hauling ass out of there.
"Beth!" He hollered and ran off after the car, "Beth!"
Just as he approached the basket, a walker did too. Falling to its knees to reach into the basket. Rage surged through Daryl and he tackled the corpse down, stabbing it repeatedly with a bolt until it stopped moving. He then grabbed the basket and pulled it towards him.
Charlotte lay there unharmed. Unhappy but unharmed. He picked up the basket with his little girl inside, his heart beating wildly out of his chest and with no further hesitation, Daryl ran after the black car.