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They say bad things happen to good people. Daryl believed that, but he also knew bad things happened to bad people, most people would look at Merle Dixon and immediately put him in the bad category. But it was the bad things that had made him bad, wasn’t it?
The truth of it was, bad things happened, one way or another. Some things that happened were technically bad but never had that much of an impact but others, well they could bring your whole life to a stop in a matter of seconds. The bad thing that happened a mere hour ago, now that, that was bad. When he’d had to put down his big brother, Daryl had thought that would be the hardest most heart-breaking thing to ever happen to him but he was wrong.
As he sat, numb yet full of burning pain, the kind that sat in your chest, searing a hole straight through you, ripping out your heart as it went, he realised how truly cruel the world was. Maggie was sobbing, insisting she dig her baby sisters grave herself, but Daryl, he couldn’t even bring himself to do any other task than to cradle the lifeless body that once hosted Beth Greene and sob like a little girl.
It came to the point when Maggie stopped and Rick moved forward to collect Beth and lower her down. But Daryl wasn’t ready. No one knew the pain that he felt, maybe Sasha knew after she’d lost Bob and maybe Rick after losing Lori, but Sasha’s love had been short and Rick’s love had been strained for a long time. They didn’t know exactly how Daryl felt, and he doubted they’d even be able to recognise it. So as Glenn, Tyreese and Rick moved forward, he’d snarled at them, holding the empty body to his chest.
“No, No, No.” He grumbled, desperately rocking back and forth, pulling Beth up so he could see her face. Pale and bloody but so Beth. His forehead fell to her chin as he sniffed loudly, sobbing. He saw the men step back, giving him his moment while he whimpered painfully. He looked up, brushing his rough thumb over her smooth cheekbone, hesitating a little before lowering his lips to place a soft kiss to her still slightly warm lips.
He could hear a few sharp intakes of breath at that, before he rose shakily to his feet, staggering over to the grave, weeping like a widow. Maggie moved forward and together, sharing the bond of loss, they lowered her down.
Daryl didn’t help them cover her, just sat, head between his knees.
He barely noticed as they adjusted the cross over her freshly dug grave and as they all moved forward saying some words and placing a token on her grave. A flower because she saw the good in everything, a looted ring because she shined brighter than a thousand diamonds, a bead bracelet that symbolised their sisterhood, a whole lot of useless stuff that didn’t mean anything from people who didn’t know the real her.
He was on his knees, head bowed when he was the only one left. Slowly, he reached down and pulled an arrow from his crossbow, the tears dripping down his face.
His raw voice, spoke up to the sky, instead of down like the others, as he stabbed the bolt into the dirt where her chest would be, “Ain’t gonna be another you for me, girl. You were it, you changed my mind and I ain’t gonna be the last man standin’ without you.”
For a moment, they thought it was just a poetic line from a grieving man, but then he was moving, pulling the very gun that had killed his love’s murderer from his waistband, holding it to his head, his eyes determined. Agonised yells and one last breath before Bang, the hunter was reunited with a handless asshole and a glowing angel.