This is going to be another 7-ish chapter story, it follows on from the first one, but I don't really think that you have to have read that to understand. (By all means do it's the first thing I ever wrote and finished) I hope you all enjoy it! xxx
Everybody thought they knew Beth Greene. Beth thought she knew Beth Greene. Everybody thinks they know themselves and then the zombie apocalypse happens and in actuality we find our true selves.
The Greene farm was way out in rural Georgia, hidden from the tragedy standing tall and painted white, a little haven. On the occasion that a reanimated corpse did come tumbling along Hershel and Otis would go out, bring 'em to the barn. Hershel didn't know how bad it had gotten, and Hershel hadn't even told Beth how bad he thought it was.
She'd lost her mother, her brother, her whole life gone. And it was shot down right in front of her. Literally, with cold hard bullets, when her undead mother grabbed her pigtails and tried to eat her. This was a sick world. And it was one that Beth had had to learn to fit into. It took time, and patience. It took a bit of persuasion form a certain redneck showing her she didn't want to die to realise what life was going to be now.
She didn't get to have a prom or secure future, she wasn't reaching eighty and may never have her own children reach the age of five. She didn't get to break up with guys over something stupid and go out for ice cream.
But in that moment it seemed ok. Her wrist was bleeding out once again for her last time trying to take control of her own death, it stained the light silky fabric of the prom dress her mother made her months and months ago. She didn't care, and he didn't care either. The age wasn't a problem, and any other complaints he may have once had. Because she was alive. And he would give up everything before he gave that up.
The trip back to the prison as soothing as it was, couldn't be described as anything but the calm before the storm. Having to carry a prom-dressed, weak Beth into the prison was bad enough. Trying to yell that she wasn't bit only allayed the fears long enough for expert Herschel to get round to stitching up the wound. And Herschel was no fool. He might look over the dress his wife made. He might be able to ignore the way his youngest daughter was looking at the rough man that carried her in like a piece of china. But he couldn't ignore the clean line of a knife against her wrist again.
He shouted at her eventually. But she had to wait a while. After the painful, in every sense, sewing up of her wrist. Had to wait until the days of stony silence and sighs whenever he saw he propped up in her bed rest. Then he was disappointed. Then he blamed himself. And only then he shouted.
It was long enough after Maggie's own rants at her for the words to stick and the apologies to be sincere. She did care, but part of her resented how they still couldn't understand.
But if innocent angelic Beth Greene was in deep shit with her father, Daryl was even more so. According to a visiting Carl, he had made himself scarce due to the looks both Hershel and Rick were giving him. There had been an abundance of freshly caught meat, due to the hunting party being gone dawn to dusk to avoid the wrath of the father figures. Irresponsible Daryl, not possibly irresponsible Beth.
She felt almost bad, then remembered how he'd climb into her bed every night at a god-forsaken hour, and hold her whilst pretending he didn't care that he had almost lost her. And he'd hold her as she slept and pretend that they were simply friends as they had been before they left thins place on a literal suicide mission. But she saw it in his eyes still. That tiny bit of hurt at her wrist and the guilt he felt for thinking that she could've been saved this torture. Daryl didn't know how to do love, he couldn't receive it either- but he wasn't forced to receive it, he could throw away given love. But feeling it? Oh, feeling it isn't something you can deny. It scared him.
The restraint to her cell was getting to her, not even Judith was left in her care for more than an hour under careful supervision of Carol. It was fucking joke. So she decided she would only so it for a week.
Exactly a week later, Beth dressed herself and looked out of the cell checking each way like a cartoon escaping prison. Which she wasn't, just the prison cell. She walked down to the library, where a small nursery had been set up. Sasha was struggling to contain the children, her hair sticking out in every direction and muttering how she was a fighter not a baby sitter.
''I can take over, y'know?'' Beth's voice was still as smooth and girlishly normal as it had ever been, but recently it seemed to startle people with its sincerity and openness. It's like everyone expected her to be hoarse from crying or not want to talk at all. To prove the point Sasha jumped.
''Beth? I thought you were resting upstairs-'' her face was obviously shocked, but it barely hid the deep seeded desire to want to throw children at her and go outside to actively protect the others.
''On bed rest? Yeah, it's pretty boring. I ain't sick you know-'' Beth smiled, self-consciously pulling her jumper sleeve down and looking Sasha right in the eye. Her gamble played off, most people tended to get a bit squeamish about these things despite the fact that they killed walkers for a living. Who knew that even in the apocalypse mental health issues were still taboo?
There was no time for Sasha to try and persuade Beth that her father would kill them both if he found out, because the mute curly haired kid nearly knocked Beth over with a wide grin and fierce hug to her legs. She knelt down to his height, managing to squeeze a few words from him as the other children came round to ask about her absence.
Sasha was in awe at how nicely and smoothly Beth lied about having a small cough and not wanting to pass it on, and that's why she had been in bed all this time. Children are children, and they'll believe anything, but Sasha almost wanted to believe that was true too. She knew Beth was old enough to make her own decision, and if she chose to live than maybe it's what she needed to do to figure that out. She felt bad about how lonely she must have felt going through all that with no one to talk to, but of course if the group's suspicions were right Dixon had been in on it too. Only he hadn't said anything since saying she wasn't bit.
Beth was still out as dinner rolled round. She caught Daryl walk into the kitchen to give Carol some squirrels, and was about to go over after him, when she saw he was attempting a swift exit to the back of the prison. She could follow, but somehow going outside the prions physical walls seemed like an unforgivable defiance to bed rest. She did it anyway. Praying to God silently for forgiveness and following the noise of shuffling footsteps around the corner.
Only they weren't Daryl's. Somewhere in her debating to stay or go, someone else had snuck out after Daryl- and it was this person she almost walked into. Her father didn't see her, her reflexes quickly pushed her back around the corner without really thinking about it. Her eyes burned with the image she had just seen. Her father walking over, limping to Daryl who was sat on the hard ground with a cigarette and a lonely plate.
''What do you know about Beth?'' Herschel didn't even try and soften into the conversation, it was straight to the jugular. From years of hearing fights with him and Shawn or Maggie, Beth knew Herschel was past livid.
As soon as Daryl answered it was obvious he wasn't playing by the rules on this, he was taunting her father. Stupid man. Hoping for an explosion to ease his own conscious for taking her there, even if he would do it again the same way.
''Hmm-'' Daryl's voice was low and growly, he obvious was reluctant to say anything. But Beth could pinpoint the exact second her father gave him the look, as his tongue slackened off a bit. ''I know she's kind, and sweet and she believes in God, and that she feels bad you and Maggie are so upset-''
''Why do you think we're upset? You ain't a father, Dixon. You don't understand how much that girl means to me- to our family-'' her father had barely paused to let Daryl answer the rhetorical question choosing instead to try an berate him for actions that we out of his control. She knew her father felt bad, but Daryl did too- she heard a small mumble, Herschel caught it too.
''What was that?'' Herschel's voice was cold and empty, she had the feeling her father already heard what Daryl said. He was simply daring him to repeat it.
''I said yes I do. I do understand.'' Her eyes widened. And she knew that he was confirming his affection for her, however serious it may be, to her father. For Daryl that was an admission she wouldn't have expected for years, let alone a week.
''You took her there on purpose?''
''Yes.''
''You knew she was going to do it?'' it was as if Herschel had anticipated the bluntness of Daryl's answer, reeling of another question without a heartbeats break between them.
''Yes.''
''You lied to my face.'' The last one came out somewhere between a statement and a question to be answered. The aging man's voice reaching a saddened low disappointment.
''She asked me to.'' Daryl's voice held a non-compromising obviousness, like there wasn't anything he wouldn't have lied about, or kept a secret of, if only she asked him to. She heard her father take a step back, and then Daryl's voice continued in its slow sincere and placating way. Rare was the occasion Herschel Greene was angry and Daryl Dixon was not. ''Sir, I respect you. You know I do. But from where I was stood there was no changing her mind.''
''Then what did?'' Herschel was still bitter, he was no fool and he had seen the change in his daughter in the last month or so. He felt humiliated at himself for thinking her smiles might be the end of depression, not the start of a love affair with death.
''I couldn't tell you.'' Unbeknownst to Beth, Daryl look away as he said this, unable to look into the eyes of her father anymore because they hurt too much to know what pain he had aided.
''Stop keeping secrets Dixon. I have half the right to help the others kick you out, you took a little girl to slaughter- you let her mutilate herself-
Beth felt anger grow cold in her stomach, as her face got warmer than the fires of hell. She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she rounded the corner and took it all in. Daryl was sat on the floor still, detached and staring blankly at her father. The man who brought her up was close to him, nearly purple in the face with anger. The childish part of her wanted to run away, but they had seen her- and they both looked just as surprised by her entrance. That only infuriate her further, they only talked about her when she wasn't around.
''Daddy stop! It was my choice. D-Daryl tried to stop me, he won't say he did, but he did.'' She sounded higher pitched than she would've liked but Daryl still looked down guiltily. Of all the people who won't defend themselves because they think they deserve the punishment, Daryl was the most infuriating. He wanted Herschel to shout at him, he thought he deserved it. And if he wasn't standing up for himself, then she'd do it for him.
''Bethy- you're meant to be inside.'' His voice was cold and stern, as if he could still try and play doctor with her. Herschel took in his daughter, she hadn't been deterred from the removal of day clothes from her cell. Braving it around in pyjama bottoms and a thick jumper. Her cheeks were vibrant red and hair wild, in that moment he only really saw Maggie.
''I don't want to be inside anymore. I want to help fight, I ain't a little girl, and this ain't the farm. I j-just don't want you to be angry at me a-any more-'' where Beth managed to make herself sound strong for the first part of her sentences, the Greene courage soon wore off. Beth Greene wasn't the type to win a fight by shouting, her small shoulders were starting to rack and before she knew it she was stood there crying.
Hershel and Daryl both watched Beth fall apart as if she were in slow motion. Her fists were clenched and the pretty face screwed up to try and control the river of tears she'd kept in for the week. They both felt their stomach clench uneasily, as the sunshine girl poured her heart out. Her father limped over, taking her in his arms like she was five years old gain and he could heal the wound with a little compassion. She cried into his shirt and he patted her back whilst mumbling comforting things about not being angry at her.
The hardest thing to do it tell somebody that you're afraid. Afraid that your baby is going to leave you in this hell with no little girl to make it alright to pretend for ten minutes that it's all how it used to be. Afraid that the woman you've found is going to disappear because she never really existed in the first place, because nothing good ever stays near to you. Afraid that you aren't the same as you were, but not the same as the others either, and that you know you have to make your own way of dealing with all the death.
Because everyone is afraid. But everyone keeps living.
So as the prologuey-catching up to where we are chapter the others will be a bit more focused and less broad, tell me any ideas you have by all means! Xxx THANK YOU
