Ya'll are complete dolls, every one of you. Thanks for all the support in just a few hours for a post that was barely over 500 words! I got so inspired by all the nice words, so here is another little blurb with Beth's letter and Daryl's response! Updates will be short until the story gets going. Right now, I'm doing this for therapy. OH, before I go, if you haven't already go here p/the-walking-dead-bring-beth-back and sign the petition pleeease. Hope ya'll like the chapter!
Dear Daryl,
I know you don't know me from Adam (Eve would be more fitting, I suppose, considering I am a lady), but you are cell mates with my idiot brother, Shawn. He hasn't said much about you, just that you are quiet, surly, and don't get any letters. He actually said he was jealous that you didn't. I guess he doesn't much like all the family "smothering" him. Is it considered uncool to get letters in prison? Like, a mom sending a child off to school and putting little notes in their lunch level of uncool? Because if you say it is (that is assuming you write back, and I really hope that you do), I'll have to just go out and get some pink or pastel envelops or some embarrassing shit like that, just to spite him. Oh, this is a good idea. See, Daryl Dixon, you give me good ideas, and I haven't even seen you or heard from you yet.
I really do wish you would take some time to write me back. I am sure you have better stories to tell then the ones Shawn tells us. Like, does he really expect us to believe that he beat someone up, that he narrowly escaped being shanked AND someone's bitch, when he can't even keep his facts straight. Seriously, he is a horrible story teller.
I don't care if you respond with a load of shit that isn't true at all, or with a gruff three lined letter (hopefully one that doesn't include "fuck off little girl"), or a genuine letter. To hear from you would be the highlight of my week. The idea of you not getting letters or having someone to visit you makes me sad. I believe that no one should have to be alone. Personally, I know what being alone can do to a person, and it isn't a good thing. Especially if the stories are true, and your brother left you.
I hope that I can be a friend to you, and in my deepest wishes, that you can become family.
Sincerely yours,
Beth Greene
Well, damn. If her handwriting didn't tell him she was sweet as sugar, her letter just punched him in the trachea with all the sweetness. Now, Daryl Dixon was a man who liked his sweets, but even this was almost too much for him. Who was she, to think that they would be friends? And what about her parent's? He wasn't sure how old Beth was, but Shawn wasn't much older than 20. 21 maybe? And Beth was his little sister. Not the older of the two sisters. Surely she was still a teen, and her parent's surely, surely wouldn't want her making friends with a criminal in prison. Talk about not safe.
Sweet and naive, those two qualities might make for a cute girl, but damn if they didn't get one into some serious shit in the real world. They were too trusting, too stupid to know the dangers lurking out there. What if Daryl was a complete pervert, and her she was, offering herself up to him, pretty much. Wanting to be friends with her brother's cell mate.
Dumb broad.
But even with all these negative thoughts floating around his head, he couldn't wipe that small smile off his face. It was barely there, a mere twitch of the lips for most people. But if Merle was there, Daryl could have knocked him over with a feather. Hell, with the smallest of exhales. Daryl Dixon doesn't smile. Daryl Dixon doesn't admit to things being sweet. Dixon men are tough sumbitches, and nothing gets to them.
Only, Daryl wasn't truly a Dixon. Not anymore. No, he is shedding that part of him off like a dirty old coat. Upgrading.
But to what? Merle was his only family left. His only friend left. Without him, Daryl had nothing. Was nothing. Just some redneck asshole. But dammit, if this wasn't his chance to change. To be better. Not good, really, but better. He could do that, couldn't he? And the first step of this changed just wrote to him. He knew her brother sure as shit wasn't going to protect her like she deserved, and if she was writing to prison inmates for friends, she must need some guidance.
And even though he was a shit excuse for someone to look up to, he had to start somewhere. Finally getting up, he moved to a little table, grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and tried to figure out where to start in a response to the way to the little girl. He decided that this was going to be harder than he had even imagined. But by the end, he had scribbled out a message. It was a couple hours later, and there were a few sheets of paper balled up around him, but he had just finished. Shawn was snoring on his bunk when Daryl slipped into his own, tucking the letter with bubbly writing under his pillow.
The next morning, he got up early and asked a guard to send his letter out right away. He just hoped that Beth wouldn't be disappointed in the letter, with his barely legible handwriting and his simple signature of
-Daryl