"Never Give Up (On Each Other)"
Author: carmen_085
Disclaimer: I do not own any Walking Dead Characters. I do own all original characters.
Summary: In the months before the beginning of the apocalypse, Daryl finds himself homeless, alone, and with no direction. An adult Beth is struggling to balance her job, sick parents, and the farm. Feeling like the world is suffocating her, will taking a chance on a stranger change everything ? Can these two find what they need in each other before life as they know it ends and they must do anything to survive. AU but eventual ZA with full cast.
Chapter Two
The farm was her home; everything she ever loved about her life, everything she ever imagined for her future was wrapped up in this piece of land. Owning land was different than just owing property; land could be farmed and tilled, seeds planted and crops grown, mouths fed and self sufficiency attained. This land…these one hundred acres had been in the Greene family for over a century. It was bought at the the Coweta County Seat in cash by her great grandfather, but growing up her daddy always said that God gave them this land. A little slice of heaven on earth, everything they could ever want or need was right here.
Depressing the throttle of the ATV, Beth guided the vehicle up the dirt path toward the far edge near the woods. The split rail fence in this area had been weakened by some fallen tree limbs in the winter and she knew it was only a matter of time before it broke down completely. Had this been her only job she would have fixed it weeks ago. Well…at least she would have attempted to fix it weeks ago. Farming was hard, physical work and Beth had never been more than a hundred and forty pounds soaking wet. She was strong for her size, though, her work on the farm and at the hospital developing muscle on her arms and across her back. Still, though, there was a limit to what she could do by herself. Sure, she had come up with some creative work arounds for things that she just simply couldn't lift but at the end of the day this wasn't a job for just one person.
Coming over the crest of the hill, Beth's lips spread into slight smile as she slowed the ATV to a stop. "I found them eating strawberries; red smeared all over their faces like two damn kids caught in the cookie jar."
Casting a glance toward the two steer with red mess all over their white faces Beth shook her head. Dismounting the ATV she sighed, "Thanks Jimmy, I don't know what I'd do without you."
Ducking his head, Jimmy just shrugged, "It's what neighbors do." Beth nodded in agreement although she knew that Jimmy Campbell was more than a neighbor. Growing up, he and Beth had been friends since as far back as she could remember. When they became teenagers they, of course, began to look at each other differently. For so many years Beth thought that she would marry Jimmy; thought that there was no other way this story would go. They dated, they went to every high school dance together, they spent nights out in her daddy's fields laying, looking at the stars talking about their future. It seemed perfect and right and just like those stars above them, their destiny together was certain.
But then everything changed. Beth wanted to go to college, she wanted to be a nurse and Hershel would not hear of her sacrificing her education for teenage love. So she went to the University of Georgia and Jimmy stayed at home, wanting nothing more than to take over his daddy's farm. They lasted for a few months before he called her and told her he wasn't going to wait around. Beth was crushed, she was lost, alone and she wanted to pack her bags and leave school. But her mama and daddy told her that was not going to happen and if her and Jimmy were meant to have a future they would find each other eventually. Well….Jimmy found someone alright but it wasn't her. By the time Beth graduated, Jimmy was already married and with a kid and another on the way. Teresa's uncle ran the feed store in town, she came to work for the summer, the rest was obvious.
Over the years Beth and Jimmy had fallen into a comfortable friendship, the passion of their teenage years dissolving under the harsh reality of adult life. It was cute, it was nice, but they were both grown now and all that drama just didn't really matter anymore. Walking toward Jimmy's horse, Buttons, Beth produced a carrot from the back pocket of her jeans. Scratching the animal's nose she smiled as she ran her hand through his silky mane. Jimmy's handsome, tanned face studied her with concern, his lips pulling into a frown.
"Did I wake you up?" Beth didn't answer at first wondering if she looked that bad right now.
"It's alright, I got a few hours." Jimmy looked at the ground shaking his head.
"Your dad still drinking?" Beth snorted as she met his eyes.
"What do you think?" Jimmy was quiet, looking down at his mud covered jeans and boots he struggled to think of something reassuring to say.
"The accident was just last year…..he needs time." Beth was quiet thinking about that day. Sensing that bringing it up wasn't the most reassuring thing he could have done, Jimmy sighed. "Well at least your mom is back home." Beth nodded stroking the horse absentmindedly as she appeared deep in thought.
"If I tell you something will you promise to not think I'm a bad person." She looked up at his face studying him. Leaning on the fence Jimmy regarded her quietly.
"I could never think you're a bad person." The sun came through the trees catching the light brown hair that was sticking out from under his Atlanta Braves cap. She stared at him for a moment, he had grown into very attractive man, all the awkward angles of his teenage years melting into hard muscle. She had no feelings for him anymore, hadn't for years, but sometimes she still caught herself looking at him and daydreaming. Jimmy belonged to a hopeful, wonderful time in her life; a time when there were only possibilities not responsibilities.
"I would rather she stay in the nursing home. It's just easier and I know someone is looking after her there all day and night. She comes home and she doesn't want to do anything and this whole cycle repeats." Beth looked at the ground biting her lip. She never thought she would say such a thing about her mother but it was true.
Jimmy sighed looking down as he shook his head. He knew that Beth was being pushed to the max, that was why he didn't mind helping her around the farm with little things here or there. A frustrated looked came over his face as he narrowed his eyes at her, "Is Maggie still in Michigan ?"
Beth puller her work gloves on as they moved toward the split rails. "Yep. She won't be coming back either…." Meeting Jimmy's eyes she shrugged at an obvious truth, "Annette isn't her mom, anyway….."Beth trailed off.
"That's bullshit, Beth, and you know it." They lifted and moved a rail placing it back into the holders on the fence posts. "Family is family; marriage or blood don't matter."
"She doesn't want to be here, Jimmy. Her and Glenn want to start a family up there, she's got a job in the city planner's office. She's not coming back."
Lifting another rail, Jimmy mulled that over in silence. "Just isn't right." He mumbled it under his breath although Beth heard him. She didn't disagree with him but there was no use arguing; like she told herself over and over. You get what you get in life.
Shaking her head, Beth finished putting another rail into place. "I always knew Maggie was going to move on from this place; she used to say she was suffocating here." Lifting another piece of wood they moved together. "I just never counted on Otis and Patricia being gone also."
Jimmy bit his lip as they hefted the last rail into place. Otis and Patricia has been farmhands for Hershel for as long as anyone could remember. They were such a fixture around the property that nobody ever imagined the farm without them there. But four years ago Patricia was diagnosed with advanced Lung Cancer. Otis took her to Atlanta for treatments everyday and yet it still wasn't enough. She died a couple of years ago, they buried her in the cemetery at the edge of town. Patrica and Otis never had children so there was nothing keeping Otis in Georgia except for Hershel and this farm. But after the accident and the way things changed because of it, Otis decided he would rather be in Alabama with his brother. Family was family and Beth could never fault him for wanting to go but…still…she wished he were here helping her.
Pulling the work gloves off Beth nodded her thanks. "I couldn't have done it without you." Taking the cap from his head, Jimmy wiped the sweat away.
"Yeah you could have." Although Beth was already flushed and sweating she felt her cheeks burn even more as she looked away back toward the house. "You've done harder things…you're doing harder things." She let her eyes drift to the ground as she had to agree with that. Sighing she shrugged her shoulders.
"Just the way it's gotta be." Jimmy was no stranger to hard work or hard times himself. His father died suddenly of a heart attack out in the fields almost five years back. Jimmy hadn't yet learned everything he needed to know to run the farm by himself. But Hershel being the good neighbor that he was, helped the boy learn the ropes until he could do it on his own. That was of course before….
Smiling at him she gestured back toward the house. "I need to get back and check on my mama." Jimmy nodded understanding as he went to untie Buttons from the fence. "Tell Teresa I said hello and give the girls a kiss from me." He ducked his head nodding as he forced a smile.
"I wish I could help you more, Beth. I really do." Flicking her wrist at him she quickly dismissed that notion.
"You do plenty for me, Jimmy. More than you have to." Starting the ATV she yelled back to him, "I'm making a batch of strawberry jam later this week, stop by and I'll have a jar with your name on it."
"Beth…you don't have." He didn't like that she felt like she needed to repay him for doing things for her. Beth didn't hear him, though, as she turned the ATV around and was already heading back toward the house.
"See you later !" And with that she was gone in a cloud of hot, dry dust.
The old, blue farm truck clattered to a stop as Hershel jammed the stick into park. Letting his foot off the brake he accidentally tapped the accelerator causing the truck to clank forward, cough, and come to a stop. Again he jammed the stick back into park lifting his useless piece of shit right leg out of the way.
"God dammit." Stomping on the emergency brake with is left foot he cut the engine and threw the door open desperate for some air to neutralize this whole sad affair. He was so damned useless he couldn't even go for a drive without it being a huge ordeal. Reaching to the passenger seat, Hershel's fingers searched for the only solace he had. Coordination had not left him when it came to unscrewing the cap and tipping the paper bag clad bottle in the air.
Bourbon
Made everything seem better…easier. Pushing himself up he took a moment to get adjusted on his feet before slamming the door shut. The cemetery was deserted on a Tuesday morning as it should be; most people going about their lives. Pocketing the booze, Hershel walked on stilted legs up the small hillside to a familiar place. All of the Greenes that ever lived in this corner of Georgia were buried here together. There was his mama and daddy; gone for nearly thirty years now. Arnold, his cousin, who died ten years ago from cirrhosis. Snorting at the thought, Hershel took another long swig letting the whiskey cut away at the bile in the back of his throat. There was Patricia, Otis came back once in a while to see her and keep her headstone clean, fresh daisies sprouting just below her name. Pausing at the next grave, Hershel sighed as he stared at his Jo. Maggie's mother and his first wife, a woman he loved without question. A woman he gave up nearly everything to make happy. Swallowing the lump of emotion in his throat Hershel continued walking until he came to the last grave. It was shiny, black, and new. The grass had yet to really take root as he settled himself down in the mud with a groan. Eyes wandering over the headstone he shook his head, memories he wished he never had flooding back.
It was late September and there was already a chill in the air. Like every fall there was just so much to do before winter came. Corn needed picked, apples collected, fences mended, and hay needed baled. Shawn had gone out early this morning and been baling hay all day in the west fields. It was dangerous work especially since that field was graded sharply downward. He knew what he was doing, though, and he operated the tractor like he had been doing it all his life. Shawn was Annette's son and when they married he was still a child. Recently he left a decent paying job in construction to come work the farm with Hershel. The boy wasn't his blood but Hershel had considered him his own from day one. Shawn's own father had died years back in a car accident leaving Annette widowed at a young age with a son to raise all on her own.
Hershel had been in the barn that day seeing to the animals and preparing the structure for winter as they did every year about this time. His phone rang, he hated these damn things but more and more it seemed unavoidable these days, it was Shawn. The tractor was jammed up on something and he needed help. Pocketing the phone, Hershel took Nelly from her stall; Nervous Nelly to everyone but him. Trotting out to the west field the sun was setting as he brought the horse to a halt. Hay bales dotted the landscape as he laid eyes on his step son crouched down looking up under the tractor. Shawn was a smart boy, he was standing on the high point behind the tractor so that if it lost its traction on the hillside it would roll away from him. Crouching down beside him Hershel shined a flash light under the chassis of the machine.
A root, big and gnarled jammed up into the axel. Sighing Hershel knew that they should just leave it and come back tomorrow, it was late and they were both tired. Drenching rains were coming, however, and he could just imagine how much worse this would be once the tractor sank down into the mud. If he could get a rope around it hold tension while Shawn gave the tractor some gas they might be able to do this.
Might.
Lashing the rope was the easy part, easier than he thought it was going to be. Just a little gas on the throttle and they would be sitting at the dinner table in an hour. The sky had faded to orange and pink as Shawn climbed into the driver's seat. Standing on the grade above the tractor Hershel held tension on the rope as the younger man depressed the throttle. The engine revved but nothing. Repositioning they tried again with no results. Frustrated Hershel threw the rope down as he scratched the back of his head.
Shawn, wanting this done just as much as his step father, crawled off the tractor. Walking around the other side he crouched down next to the wheel that was almost twice his size.
"Hey it's almost loose over here." Dusting his hands off Hershel walked to the other side, given the tractor a wary look.
"It's not safe over here, son. Need to find another way." Shawn was not deterred, though, as he pulled the rope across giving it a tug
"Come on. One good tug and we're home free." Hershel was silent for a moment. This was dumb and it was reckless. It was almost dark, though, and he wanted to get done for the day.
"Alright but let me do the pulling." Shawn shook his head as he leaned all his weight onto the rope.
"No. I'm good. You're getting too old for this shit anyway." Hershel glared at at him before climbing up onto the tractor.
So many people asked him afterward how it happened. And he didn't really know…still didn't know. He remembered Nelly whining and pacing as if she knew this was wrong. He remembered his foot slipping on the step, his hand reaching out for the first thing it found. The throttle slipped, the tractor jerked violently. He wasn't even in the seat and it started to tip sideways.
He hit the ground so hard and the then the tractor came next. It crushed his right leg; the pain was instant and consuming. He screamed out into the night air. Nelly reared up whining hysterically before taking off at a full run toward the house. The horse damn near ran right through the front door braying like a lunatic until Beth jumped on her back and charged toward the field. She made a tourniquet out of his belt and got the bleeding stopped before the ambulance and fire department showed up. But Shawn…..
Shawn.
He was swallowed up underneath the tractor wheel. Crushed. Bled out. Pressed violently into the hard earth.
Jimmy and a few of the other local farmers came with their own tractors and sometime around midnight they were able to lift the 15,000 lb piece of equipment off of him. He had died hours before, most likely the instant it happened. There was nothing to be done.
If anyone should have died that night it should have been him. He was old and he lived his life. Shawn still had everything to live for.
Everything.
Running his hands over the letters on the stone Hershel choked back a sob.
Shawn Greene
August 18 1980-September 26 2009
Beloved Son, Brother and Father
Father.
Yes that's right. Shawn had just become a father the year before he died. Much to Annette and Hershel's dismay, Shawn hadn't been married when Oliver came along. One day she was just a girl he had met in a bar and then the next she was the mother of his child. She didn't want to stay in Georgia; her family all down in Tallahassee she begged him to leave with her but he wouldn't hear of it. As soon as Shawn was buried; she was gone. Hershel hadn't seen his grandson since the day she left and he doubted that he would ever see the boy again.
Annette had been diagnosed with MS shortly after Beth was born; the pregnancy itself triggering the disease somehow. In the beginning it was nothing, strange symptoms here and there but nothing to slow her down. After a while, though, it caught up with her and she began to have weakness, numbness, and pain. Doctors upon doctors offered her all sorts from remedies from pills to injections but she would have none of it. She had some success with herbal treatments but with time the disease simply became too overwhelming. The summer before Shawn died she would at least get out of bed, comb her hair, and sit on the porch reading, writing in a journal, or petting Maize on the head. After Shawn was gone she lost any fight she had and MS quickly swallowed her whole.
So many lives ruined by one careless, stupid decision. His careless, stupid decision.
"Mom I'm going to be late for work. Why can't you wear these pajamas ?" Beth held the shirt and shorts in her hand as she stared at the bathroom door. The light switched off and the door opened as Annette appeared hunched over a walker. She moved slowly, pushing the walker and dragging her feet behind it. Her head hung down, not having the strength in her neck to hold it up anymore. Turning to the side she squinted at the clothes her daughter was holding. Shaking her head she was quick to dismiss the idea
"Not those Bethy. They're hot and they make me feel claustrophobic." Beth looked down wondering how a t-shirt and shorts could make someone feel clastrophobic as she sighed throwing them on the bed. Sitting herself down on the edge of the bed, Annette reached over for a worn tank top with stains all over it.
Beth shook her head, obvious frustration in her face. "No, mom, not that. It's dirty, I have to wash it again."
Pulling her top off, Annette slid the dirty garment over her head despite Beth's protests. "Well you know I like this one so you should have washed it." Another fight…everything was always a fight. Beth had noticed long ago that the more function her mother lost, the more desperate she became to control everything around her right down to the color of her shirt.
Beth sighed trying to avoid staring at her near emaciated mother sitting pathetically in dirty clothes. A sad situation mostly of her own choosing. No she didn't choose MS but she did choose to live like this.
Helping her mother into bed Beth pulled the covers up and pointed to the bedside table. "I left dinner for you right there. Please call me if you fall again tonight…please mom. Promise me you'll call."
Annette flicked the TV on as she stared at the screen only half listening to her daughter. "Oh Bethy you worry too much." Taking a taste of the mashed potatoes and gravy, she clicked her tongue and moaned. "This is cold." Beth shuddered. Would this ever end? "Heat this up for me before you leave." Looking up at the clock it was nearly six thirty; she was going to be late.
There were a million things she wanted to say but it would do her no good. Taking the plate she hurried downstairs throwing it into the microwave. Tapping her foot anxiously, Beth stared up at the clock. Maybe she should tell them she was going to be late. No…NO she could make it. The microwave beeped and she took the dish running back upstairs with it, Maize hot on her heels at the smell of food.
Annette cast a glance at her before looking back at the TV. "Turn the air conditioning down too, it's cold up here." Beth bit the inside of her cheek. She had to go and this was ridiculous.
"OK mom, I have to go." Petting Maize on on the head, the dog rubbed herself against Beth's leg before trotting around the bed and jumping up next to Annette to watch TV and eat mashed potatoes.
Thankfully the Parkway wasn't totally jammed as Beth wheeled her Camry into its usual spot outside the hospital. She tried not to dwell on her mother for the entire drive but it was hard. She just pissed her off so much. Grabbing all the necessary essentials she glanced a the dashboard clock- 6:58. She had to hurry.
Slamming the door she moved quickly through the parking lot, her eye catching something as she weaved through the cars. A beat up, old brown truck; the hood propped open and someone leaned up under it. Daryl. She hadn't forgotten him, in fact, he had occupied most of her thoughts for the past two days. No patient or their family ever took up that much space in her brain.
Him still being here meant that his brother was still alive. Whatever alive meant when it came to someone in Merle's condition. Hiking her purse up on her shoulder, Beth forced herself to look away. She had more than enough problems of her own, getting this emotional about a patient, especially a patient who wasn't going to live much longer, was a bad idea. Yes it was sad and one look at Merle told her that he had lived a hard life but he made his bed. It wasn't really him she was hung up on anyway, it was his brother. Something about that man made her heart ache in a way it hadn't in a very long time. Beth had survived so much tragedy in her own life that he didn't think she could feel much anymore, certainly nothing for a total stranger. But Daryl….she just felt connected to him and she didn't even know him.
Swiping her card through the time clock, Beth rushed into the breakroom, heart pounding and out of breath. She hated staring her shift like this. Scanning the faces she saw that Rosita was off tonight as she found a place near the back settling herself down. Pat was also off tonight as one of the the relief charge nurses, Jamie, stood in the front handing out assignments.
"Beth, 14 & 15." Inwardly she smiled although she didn't know why. Despite her sudden obsession with Merle Dixon's brother she was sure the man didn't even know or care that she existed. It wasn't that….she didn't like him….she just felt bad for him. Was bad even the right word ? Because neither Dixon seemed like were the type to receive pity in any form. She didn't know…he just got to her.
Karen was an older woman with thick, dark curly hair. She looked like a nurse, a nurse or a kindergarten teacher. She had been Beth's preceptor when she started and since then she had always looked to the woman as a mentor and friend. If Rosita was her work wife, Karen was her work mom.
"Hey honey…not too bad today." Peering into room 15 Beth saw the bed empty and visibly sighed. Karen laughed, "Transferred him to a nursing home this morning. Thank God." Phillip Blake and all his nightly hysterics were gone. He wasn't cured, that was for sure, and he would be back like they always were.
Once Karen had gone leaving her the remainder of a pack of Oreos, Beth took a chocolate cookie and puling it apart absentmindedly licked the white icing as she read Merle Dixon's chart. Karen had told her that Siddiq and the others had officially declared him brain dead and now they were just waiting on the brother to withdraw care. Scanning through his assessments she saw that not much had changed over the last two days. Some irregularities on the monitor but that was expected; any insult to the brain caused swelling and being stuck in a finite place like the skull didn't leave much room for expansion. The only place to go was down; through the hole at the bottom of the skull and onto the brainstem which controlled vital functions like heart rate and breathing.
Dark clouds were beginning to gather outside as Beth walked into Merle's room. Again the room was quiet except for the beeping of the monitors. Going about her usual routine Beth checked IVs, cycled the blood pressure, made note of ventilator settings, and did a quick assessment. Turning Merle onto his side she made sure he was clean and dry underneath. The result of laying in bed for three days had begun to take its toll as his butt cheeks were red from non stop pressure. Grabbing a pillow, Beth knew that if she didn't turn him on his side he would have bed sores by tomorrow. The human body just wasn't made to lay flat in bed all. Once she was done she got a fresh blanket out of the cabinet and arranged it over Merle so that it was straight and without wrinkles. Working in the ICU appealed to her anxiety because she could control so much here. No, she couldn't fix the patients but she could fix a lot of little things and that gave her a sense of satisfaction.
Rain began to pelt the windows as a low roll of thunder echoed in the valley. Beth's thoughts immediately wandered to Daryl and her suspicion that he most likely had no where to go. Sighing she gave Merle once last look before raising her eyes. Gasping she jumped back a little as Daryl was standing in the room. She hadn't even heard him come in. His greasy, brown hair hung in his eyes as tiny rain droplets clung to his face and arms. Forcing a smile Beth let a nervous laugh escape her lips.
"I'm sorry I didn't see you there." He was silent looking between her and Merle, who was now propped on his side and looking out the window….well he wasn't actually looking out the window but he was pointed in that direction. "Oh…I turned him on his side. His back was getting red from pressure."
Grunting, Daryl gave her a slight nod before moving to sit next to his brother. It was only when he had sat down that she realized she was staring at him. Cheeks burning red she handed Daryl a towel before ducking her head and making a beeline for the door. "I'll be back to check on him shortly."
She was losing it. Taking a deep breath,Beth headed to the only place one could have some privacy on the unit, the clean supply room. Leaning against a shelf of plastics bedpans, Beth took out her phone and texted Rosita.
'Wish you were here tonight with me.'
Closing her eyes she exhaled; she needed to get a grip.
'Blake pissing all over the bed again?'
Beth smiled as she typed. She thought about telling Rosita about Daryl and what he was currently doing to her.
'He went to the Nursing Home today. Thank God ! No just miss you, girl.'
Putting her phone away she left it at that. Rosita would not get her preoccupation with the Daryl Dixon. Hell…she didn't even get it.
Unlike Pat, Jamie cared more about socializing than running the unit. So, when nine pm came and visiting hours were officially over, Beth went back into Merle's room to turn him onto his other side. Pulling the curtain just enough so that no one would see Daryl sitting in the chair she cast a glance toward the storm still raging outside. He was't bothering anyone, no reason he couldn't stay.
Again his eyes followed her everywhere as she went about turning Merle onto his other side. Smoothing the blanket again she reached up to cycle the blood pressure, her eye catching Daryl's stare.
"He ain't going to get any better is he?" Beth paused her mouth opened but she had nothing to say. It wasn't what he said, it was the way he said it.
Desperate.
Beth licked her lips as she stared into his eyes. It wasn't her place to talk about patient prognosis and yet she couldn't lie to him. Anyone else she would quickly excuse herself and page the doctor. But something told her Daryl didn't want to hear this from a doctor, he wanted to hear it from her.
"No." She let that singular word hang out in the air. Daryl's eyes flicked toward the floor as he nodded slowly, imperceptibly. "He isn't going to get any better." She was silent resting both hands on the foot of the bed looking between Daryl and his brother.
"Thanks." He mumbled the word, mincing its syllables into something that sounded more like a grunt but still, Beth heard him.
Sensing that he wanted to alone now, Beth left the room turning the lights off. Daryl sat in the dark staring at Merle and thinking. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he was relieved when he saw that blonde nurse, Beth was back again tonight. Everyone was as nice as people who work in a hospital can be but there was just something about her. Feelings were certainly not something Daryl understood, but still he couldn't deny that she made him feel something.
Safety.
What a strange word to use for a woman who looked to be a buck ten soaking wet. This wasn't a bar fight though and strength, he was coming to understand, came from another place. She was efficient, confident, and she clearly knew what she was doing. Gentle and caring, her eyes looked at Merle like he was a person. A real person. She didn't lie to him neither; could have been real easy to urge him to look on the bright side and have hope. Or to run from the room and call the doctor to answer a question she didn't want to. But no, she looked him right in the eye and told him the truth. And in Daryl's fucked up emotional psyche all that equated to safety.
Looking over his shoulder he knew visiting hours were over, also knew that he didn't have a pot to piss in. Rain continued to pelt the window. The truck wouldn't start, had barely made it here the day they brought Merle in. He only had about five bucks to his name and that was not going to be enough to get parts, gas, or pay the ticket hospital security posted to the windshield. He was fucked.
Closing his eyes for a moment he would just get a quick nap and then he would be gone, not wanting to take advantage of anything. The cab of the truck leaked but it was better than having someone think he was a charity case. Leaning back in the chair he sighed. Just a few minutes and he would be gone.
Merle had a laugh that you could hear for miles. A distinct, taunting cackle that could raise the dead. Daryl sat on the back steps as he watched Merle regaled his buddies on the day's big event.
"That sum bitch punched his ticket alright." The sum bitch in questions was none other than Will Dixon himself, the ticket was a massive heart attack; dropped straight over dead. Course the firemen and whoever the hell else came and pumped his chest doing a whole litany of unnecessary bullshit. Daryl watched it all; wanted to tell them not to waste their time on the shit bag.
Dead or alive he wasn't really sure they packed his daddy up, threw him in the back of the ambulance and away they went.
A few hours later Merle came striding up the front steps six pack in hang, cigarette hanging from his lips. Bursting into the house you would have thought he won the lottery. Will Dixon was dead. Merle told them to unplug all the machines and let the bastard die. Well he didn't say that last part but he sure did tell them to shut that shit down. And shut it down they did. Will Dixon didn't last a whole minute afterwards; Merle stayed to make sure. The bastard was dead.
Finally.
Cracking another beer, Daryl watched Merle take a long swig. A fire popped in the small pit behind their house, the orange flames casting dangerous shadows across his face. "You should have seen the prick laying there like a piece of road kill.' Everyone laughed. "I told them stupid fucks down there. Dixons don't go out like this….Dixons go down fighting." Thrusting his beer into the air, Merle gestured toward his little brother. "Ain't that right Darylina ?"
Daryl's gaze faltered as he quickly diverted his eyes to the ground. Merle laughed; that high sadistic laugh of his. Looking down in the fire he kicked a log causing sparks to fly everywhere. He was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment before shaking his head. "Having a machine do your breathing….what kind of shit is that?"
It as nearly midnight when Beth tip toed back into Merles room to check him. In the chair next to his bed, Daryl was slumped down asleep. She tried not to stare, she really did, but she couldn't help herself. All the hard lines of his face melted away, his chest rose and fell slowly, the permanent scowl faded. In the dim light she saw him shiver in his sleep, goosebumps all over his arms. Pulling a blanket from the cupboard she carefully laid it over top of Daryl, hoping with everything inside her that he wouldn't wake up and she wouldn't have to explain herself. He didn't stir, though, and before she would change her mind she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'll be here." She didn't know why she said, didn't even know what it meant. Beth just thought it was something he needed to hear right then. In the chair Daryl sighed falling deeper asleep.
TBC…
Thanks for all the great reviews !