Be Good

Dead Weight

"You want to want to know what I did before the turn?..." Daryl had asked quietly, carefully, watching my expression, reading every thought that crossed it. I paused, what would I learn within the next five minutes that could forever change the way I looked at him now? Swallowing and taking a deep breath, I nod slowly.

"I was a nobody." He states finally, pursing his lips and nodding thoughtfully, looking down at the packed dirt beneath the porch steps. "Nobody, nothing... Just another lost cause."

"I don't believe that." I defended, raising my chin a little, honesty rang in my voice. He was so much more than he gave himself credit for.

He scoffed sarcastically, "You believe what you want to... I know what I was. No need to sugar coat it."

I waited silently for him to continue. "Merle was into all the bad stuff... Dragged me in with him most days. I lost sight of myself after I turned fourteen, I just... Didn't want to do anything. Not anymore..." He shook his head slowly. "Mom was dead, Dad didn't care much. I had to learn to shoot a gun, because of Merle. He spent most of his teenage years in juvy, but when he wasn't there, he was dealing... And that, is a dangerous business."

I did not speak, but I remained curious.

"I remember this one time... Merle had a client, a friend. Some... Janky little white guy."

He laughed at the memory with faint traces of humor. "Anyways, we were over at his house, watchin' the tube. Then Merle starts making fun of the TV show, talkin' shit, y'know..." His eyes flashed up to meet mine micheiviously.

"So, this guy, gets pissed at Merle, turns out, it's his kids' favorite show. So shit starts going down, knifes drawn, they're about to go at it, and I get involved..." He shakes his head and smiles bitterly in the way someone does when they're reciting an embarrassing memory.

"And the guy, turns around and punches me... Right in the stomach."

I gasp in surprise, "What happened then?"

His frown becomes a small, crooked smile. "I threw up." He laughs quietly. "They both start laughing and forget the whole thing... Hell."

I lean back against the wooden railing of the front porch, looking into the dark woods, illuminated dimly by the moon. There's crickets and bull frogs out there, and a whole mess that for once, neither of us are involved in. We're just here, like a portal between time. Existing for a little while without meaning, without a mission.

"You miss him." I whisper out loud as I think through the story in my head, imagining Merle, the Merle I knew for a short while, being that man. I didn't intend it as a question, just a statement of truth.

He frowns a little but does not respond. I decide it's only fair to put my cards on the table, as well.

"I miss my older brother, Shawn... He was so sweet, and overprotective..." I sighed intently, recalling a few memories of my own. "I miss my dad..." I say it openly, and instead of the crushing feeling I was becoming used to, I felt a swell of relief to speak of him. "I always thought things would work out differently. I mean, like... Maggie and Glenn would have a baby, and Hershel would get to be and Grandpa. We'd have picnics, and life would be good." I nod at the thought, wishing it was true.

"But it wouldn't be honest." Daryl replied thoughtfully. "No one ever lives like that, at least, not before the turn, and not now. Everyone has a little drama in their lives, no matter how perfect they seem. Rick and Lori, Lori had Shane's kid. Rick's bringing her up, though. Carol and Ed. She pretended she had a good thing, for a long time before I knew her. She's stronger now, stronger than ever. I wish I could tell her that now."

I nod thoughtfully. "Nobody's perfect."

"They shouldn't have to be." He agreed.

"It'd be so boring." I laughed.

We were quiet for a few more minutes before I broke the silence. "We should burn it down..."

"What?" Excitement flared up in his eyes.

"We should burn it all down." I said with a smile, "Like closure, or whatever."

He didn't respond at first, then he stood up and spit off the stoop, walking inside and coming back out with the crate of moonshine. "We're gonna need more booze, then."

I grinned and took two bottles from the crate and went inside, splashing it all over the furniture, the damp newspapers, the bra ashtray, and the grungy carpet.

"Come on out." Daryl called. I joined him several yards away from the liquor soaked cabin. He dug through his leather backpack and produced two wads of cash from the Country Club. He handed one to me and held onto the other, lighting them up with a metal Zippo lighter from the pack.

I watched the flames burn up and quickly begin to consume the money, artifacts from another world, another life, and it certainly did not belong in this one. Daryl threw the last jar of booze at the shack, the glass shattering against the wood, sloshing up the boards.

"Go for it."

We both threw in our money wads, and slowly, the flames begin to spread out like lava, rolling up the walls, across the stairs and up the railing, enveloping the buildings in flames.

I smiled wide as I extended my arm towards the pyro scene, and extended my middle finger, slapping Daryl's arm to join me. We both stood there for a few minutes, watching it burn, turning away just as the roof caved in.


"I think we're close." I say matter-of-factly. Holding up the crossbow, and looking down the sights.

"We've got to be." Daryl replied quietly, stepping up from behind and pointing to the ground. "Signs'er all there."

I examined them for myself. Zig zag foot prints in the damp leaves indicated that it was... "A walker..." I breathed. "It's a walker!" My voice raised a pitch in excitement. "I'm getting pretty good at this, pretty soon I won't need you at all."

"Yeah yeah... Keep trackin'."

I took a few more careful steps forward before the trees began thinning into a small clearing. "Whoa, hold up..." Daryl placed a hand on my shoulder, pointing to a figure crouched in the sandy grass.

"He's got a gun..." I whispered, thinking of how we could do with an extra weapon.

Daryl nudged me forward encouragingly. "Get up close, since this is'yer first try."

I nodded in agreement and crept forward slowly, licking my lips anxiously, my eyes trained on the target before me.

Silently, my old riding boots slipped across the damp grass, inching me forward, closer and closer.

Snap!

"Ughh!" I cried out, falling forward, the crossbow falling out of my hands, I hurried to try and pry apart the jagged blades incasing my ankle. The bear trap had been set in the thick grass recently, just waiting to snap up something, and that something had ended up being me.

Daryl scooped up the crossbow and fired at the alerted walker with dangerous accuracy. More came to the sounds of my panicked cries, I tried to keep it together, but generally, on TV, whenever someone's foot get's caught in a trap, they lose it or it breaks their ankle. Fortunately, I could still move around my ankle and wiggle my toes.

I looked up as Daryl swung his crossbow through the air, slamming the stock into the left temple of the last straggler, then hurrying to crouch beside me, gripping the trap tightly in both hands he pulled with all his strength.

"Go!"

There wasn't much space to pull out, but I yanked my foot backwards, rubbing it carefully to be sure it wasn't broken.

"You okay?"

"Yeah..." I nodded breathlessly, "Yeah, I'm good. You?"

"I've been better." He cracked, then he frowned as he looked around us, hurrying to his feet so he could help me up. "I'll feel better when we're moving again, though."

I nod in agreement, breathing heavily as I crutch myself against him, his right arm under mine, supporting most of my weight as we shuffled forwards. I held the newly claimed weapon in my right hand, a small, silver revolver.

~~~


"Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company. And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me." I sang quietly, reluctantly. The first time I had sung in a while, in front of people who over the weeks of being forced together, had become my extended family. Lori sat across from Hershel, Carl beside her, Maggie and Glenn in front of me, and Rick, Daryl and Carol were wandering beside the fences in the night.

"And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall. So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all." I continued, slowly recognizing the song, remembering how it felt when it rolled off your tongue. I stopped before I began the next verse, looking across at Maggie, who smiled at me, and began to sing, as well.

"Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away, and of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay," I smiled back at her, and tried not to laugh, we sang together as Rick, Daryl and Carol moved back into the circle. Rick sat between Lori and Carl, speaking quietly. Carol sat down and looked at the fire, listening.

"But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not, I will gently rise and I'll softly call, 'Goodnight and joy be with you all!' Oh, if I had money enough to spend and leisure time to sit awhile, there is a fair maid in this town that sorely has my heart beguiled. Her rosey cheeks and ruby lips, she alone has my heart in thrall. So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all."

"Beautiful." Hershel smiled at us both, hugging us tightly. My thoughts on hopeful things like suns drawn in chalk, soft flowers and kittens. My mind was always so distant... But now, I feel like I have more right to being Beth Greene than I ever did before. I finally feel like I can fill her boots.


~~~


"How you holdin' up?" Daryl asks after a while, another mile or two put down. We were working in the direction his instincts were guiding us. I was trusting he was right.

"I feel okay." I reply with a smile, we pushed through into a big green field. Medium sized stone slabs rose from the soil over hill after hill, all in a neat row.

"Cemetary?" I wondered, looking across the grass field at the tall while house with black trim. "Unusual place for a house."

Daryl shrugged. "Probably ain't a house, most likely a funeral home."

"Wonderful." I replied sarcastically with a smile. "I visited three places I never thought I would in my young years."

"What's that?" He asked curiously, a puzzled expression crossing his face.

I laughed. "An illegal moonshine still, a Country Club, and now... A funeral home. Think anyone's in there?"

"...No." He answered at last, frowning as he looked up at the sky.

"There's still good people, Daryl..." I sighed, looking around us as we walked towards the funeral home.

"That's the problem..." He sighed. "I don't think the good ones survive."

I frowned, but kept walking beside him. "You don't believe that, do you?" I ask quietly, searching his face.

He nodded "Sometimes... They don't know what sacrifices they need to make to survive. That quote, 'Nice guys finish last'. It's gotta be the best definition."

I pondered that as we walked.

"Ouch..." I muttered, pausing to balance on one foot.

"Foot hurtin?" Daryl asks.

I nod. He walks back towards me and turns his back towards me, crouching halfway towards the ground.

"What are you doing?" I ask warily, watching him, patiently crouching there.

"Get on."

"You're serious?"

"Hell yeah, one serious piggy-back ride."

I hopped on his back, and we swayed at first. I laughed as he began making his way forward, my arms wrapped securely around his collarbone.

"Oh..."

"What?" He called back, slowing down to a stop. I slid off his back and carefully put my feet down, looking at the smooth granite headstone a few feet away. Daryl saw it, too. Wordlessly, he turned and knelt down, pulling up a few yellow flowers growing near another stone, and rested then gingerly on top of the granite, stepping back to admire it. My heart swelled sadly, wishing Daddy could have had something more... Than just being left behind. Written on the stone, in bold font, was Beloved Father.

I felt something warm, and I looked down. Daryl's fingers were curled through mine, carefully, reluctantly. I smiled at him a little bit and squeezed his hand, he squeezed back.