Keep Singing

[moffnat]

It took every ounce of restraint within him not to sing along to a voice that embodied an innocence he never had. He took the soap from the air as she threw it to him and kept the cigarette with him, marching up to the showers and stripping of his dirty clothes. Daryl gripped the knob and tilted it left, letting lukewarm water fall in large drops over his grime-coated skin. He kept his head upwards toward the ceiling with a stupid little grin on cracked lips. Maybe there is a god, he internally joked, but for all his defiance the words may have meant something this time around. Beth's voice and the embrace of a shower around his naked body left the archer in a particularly good mood, despite everything he had stuffed away for the present time. He lathered foamy soap on his hands and went about the deed.

"I smell like a girl," he huffed out once the cleanse was done, lifting his wrist to smell traces of body wash on skin. Lilac, it was. Must've been a lady's soap or somethin'. Daryl scoffed and redressed his lower half, holding the shirt under the water to wring dirt and blood from the cloth. The tiled shower floors turned brown and black with the sudden stains of travel and gore. Daryl gave the fabric a final tug before tossing it over the half-wall to dry, making sure it was spread out instead of balled up to hold the moisture in. "Oh well. Won't for long." He picked up the bottle of soap and examined it for a label, throwing it across the room so he would remember to take it with them.

Much better. Daryl snuffed out the dead cigarette and lit another, sitting atop his makeshift cot by the fire and feeding it leftovers of the bench he'd shattered. In the ghostly glow of the firelight, the tattoo of an angel and a demon shone on his back alongside various scars of different method and degree. "Dark out now," he stated with a glance up to the windows, now smothered in black. "You hungry? Got some peaches. Eat somethin'." Daryl took another deep inhale of tobacco and released the smoke through his lips.

He looked at the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger in sudden contemplation, and moments later he handed it out to his teenaged companion.

"Here."​

 

[Tyche]

The few minutes of time spent alone by the fire allowed Beth to mull over what had happened just yesterday. It was probably a bad idea to revisit the memory as well as what had been left behind after, but the teen felt like she should actually make sure it was real. Her humming stopped as her mood soured slightly, although there was no point to ruin a good night, she just simply couldn't believe that in one day everything could be lost. A sigh escaped her lips just as the shower cut-off and she could hear her counterpart complain about the soap they had shared. Beth couldn't help the small smile that changed her expression. "There's nothing wrong with smelling pretty Daryl," she teased him rubbing her hands together and placing them near the blaze so they would keep warm.

He returned to their indoor camp without a shirt and Beth realized that he was able to clean off his garment. That meant that tomorrow he would be walking around with a clean shirt, while the blonde was stuck with her dirt-clod blood-smear ridden outfit of disgust. She pursed her lips, very jealous of him at the moment. Suddenly, the perked up at the question, remembering that Daryl had actually found a decent loot back in town. She made her away over to their packs, taking out a can of delectable peaches and her Bowie knife so she could easily open the metal container. Once she was situated by the fire once more, can opened and in hand, Beth quickly began picking the juicy fruit out and shoveling them into her mouth. They had had good food at the prison, but she couldn't remember the last time she had peaches.

The can was rather large so she ate almost half before setting it down on the floor and scooting it towards her comrade. "Have some," she said, in hopes he would eat some as well. Then, he offered out his cigarette to her and a look of bewilderment crossed her face before she tentatively grabbing the stick between forefinger and thumb. "Do I just um... take a breath?"​

 

[moffnat]

"No, no. Don't hold it like I do. It's trashy." Daryl reached over and plucked the tobacco stick from her fingers and grabbing her other hand rather forcefully, holding her gentle hand and ordering her to keep it in place. He spread her pointer and middle finger apart, placing the stick between them and closing her fingers again. "There," he stated, pointing to his work. "That's how a girl holds it. You put your mouth around the brown part and breathe in--don't just suck, breathe it in. Then let it out. S'easy, been doin' it for years." He let Beth have the one he offered her and lit another for his own, humming in contentment as he looked to the small fire that grew pleasantly in their makeshift hearth. "Goes good with booze."

Daryl sat a moment and smoked, but as his thoughts wandered to dark places back at the fires of the prison he moved for the peaches. He dipped his fingers into the cold juice and pulled them out one by one, smiling at the sweet and sugary taste.

"How old are you, anyway?" he asked with half-hearted curiosity. "Bet you couldn't even buy some o'these cigs in a store if you wanted to."​

 

[Tyche]

A bewildered expression passed Beth's face as Daryl moved her fingers accordingly all on his own. She let him do what he needed and she was happy with the end result. Holding it in this new position did look more elegant and as she pulled the brown end to her lips, sucking in to pull that smoke into her lungs for a second-- she felt almost adult-like. Then, she attempted to breathe the smoke out, like Daryl had done many times, but the smoke got caught in her windpipe and she ended up in a fit of unladylike coughs. Beth pulled the cigarette away from her face like she was burnt, the coughing continuing until her eyes were red and watery and a peculiar color of embarrassment covered her cheeks.

"That's disgusting. I don't know how you can do it," her lips curled in revulsion as she belt the stick away from her, "What do I do with it?" She really did not want to ever touch a cigarette again. The blonde was disappointed she had done it wrong and she was a bit embarrassed that she had been so bad at breathing in, that her lungs now burned with the aftermath of the carcinogens.

She coughed once more, trying to clear her throat so she could talk. "I'm eighteen now." She smiled proudly and coughed once, twice, again just to make sure she was able to inhale normally again.​

 

[moffnat]

Daryl snorted and broke into a series of little mocking chuckles, watching her face turn from its normal porcelain to a bright hue of pink. She shoved the tobacco away like it was a rattlesnake seeking to poison her out of her skin, and he took it from her swiftly, carrying one cigarette in each hand. "Oh, yeah. Classy." He smoked out of both of them in turn all while trying to resist further laughter at Beth's expense.

"Damn pathetic, that is. Eighteen? Shit. Been smokin' for six years by the time I turned your age." Daryl scoffed and grinned in the slightest amount as he inhaled from the sticks on his left and right hand, respectively.

Still, he felt he owed her a story. When the left stick was done, he tossed the butt in the fire and continued to draw from the remainder. "My brother," he said with a small sigh. "Merle. Remember him? Came home with a pack he'd stolen from the gas station 'cross the street. Told me to try it, said it'd make me a man." He looked pensively at the half-burnt cigarette in his right hand and took a hit, releasing the smoke to the air around them.

"I was twelve."​

 

[Tyche]

Beth swallowed the saliva that had collected in her dry mouth. That was the first time she had ever tried a cigarette and after that scene, it was probably the last. She placed wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and placed her hands in her lap. She sort of giggled along with Daryl, not minding the taunting tone in his own because, well, a laugh is a laugh right? It would be useless to get angered by his words as well. The teen knew she probably looked like a pathetic dying cat trying out that monstrous stick of cancer.

"Twelve? He seemed like a great role model," she pursed her lips, sarcasm lacing her words. At twelve she had been running around with Maggie playing tag and figuring out how to make an apple pie by herself. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable with that sentence lingering in the air, Beth continued on with a clearing of her throat. "So? Do you think it made you a man? Was your first time trying one of those like mine?" She laughed slightly, awaiting for the rest of his story or any story for that matter.​

 

[moffnat]

"Nah," Daryl stated with a small sigh. "Didn't make me a man at all. Made me sick. Had to go to the hospital for nicotine poisoning or somethin' like that. Dad was pissed, beat us both to hell for it." He gave a little chuckle at the irony, finishing off the remaining cigarette before tossing the final remnants into the struggling flames. "Been smokin' ever since."

Daryl shoved a few more shreds of wood into the fire and set the empty can of peaches aside, laying back on the blankets and adjusting so his back wouldn't ache as he pressed against cotton and hard tile. It was nice to have someone warm to sleep, but it was nothing like the bunks back at the prison. Nothing like safety and security, or family and a place to call home. Daryl wondered briefly if he could ever have something like that again, even just the tiniest sliver of something resembling what was. He gave a glance over to Beth and up to the ceiling again.

We deserved better than this.

"Probably not the best influence, huh?" he asked, pulling a spare blanket over himself and sighing. "At least we got a shower. You can go to bed though, I'll stay up for a bit n' keep watch."

Daryl looked over to the girl and smiled slightly, wondering if she would be able to find a home too.​

 

[Tyche]

Beth shook her head in a scornful way as he ended his story. She had never done something glide that nor had her older sister ever offered her such a dangerous substance/idea. The blonde inspected Daryl slightly as he finished off his cigarette, but then quickly averted her gaze towards the flame so she wasn't deemed rude for staring.

The man suddenly began to make himself comfortable and he offered to keep the first watch. "Not the best influence at all, but memories are memories." She returned the small smile and went over to her own little bed, crawling beneath the blankets and scrunching up to keep the body heat inside. She wasn't really tired at all, but it was true she would've slept as soon as she hit the bed back at the prison. There was safety and security there, which always helped her believe that nothing would ever occur during the night. She had been wrong though. Something bad did happen in the night and it seemed to have hindered her ability to fall asleep soundly. Even when they spent the night in the trunk, Beth hadn't fallen into slumber until the wee hours of the night.

"Goodnight Daryl." She concluded, knowing that if she stayed up she wouldn't be of much help along their journey. Beth shut her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to fall asleep sooner rather than later.​