Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.
THANK YOU Nicole, my wonderful BETA, for encouraging me to keep writing and support all the crazy ideas I throw at you! You're the best! XX
A/N: THIS DOES INVOLVE INFORMATION FROM THE COMICS, BUT I HAVE CHANGED DETAILS AND SCENES TO FIT MY STORY…So it should be spoiler free!
HUGE, HUGE, HUUUUUGE thank you to Sarakaroline8 and Nicole for putting up with in incessant questioning about the Alexandria Safe-Zone. You can only absorb so much from reading the comics once and they gave me so much insight on a topic I was completely unfamiliar with. After watching the MSF of season 5 I was so heartbroken (if you can't tell from my one-shot A Memoir in the Apocalypse) and then I found a wonderful post from stydiaeverafter on tumblr about the possibility of Beth surviving her gunshot wound. While I know this won't happen in the series…Beth is dead…I will happily live in denial and pretend the MSF didn't end Beth the way we saw. I HAD to make stydieverafter's theory into a fanfic! So here we are! This story will take place AFTER the mid-season finale (MSF) of season 5.
I also wanted to give a quick thank you to all of my reviewers! You guys have been IMMENSELY supportive. I WILL finish Sometimes When Things Go Wrong… and I WILL begin working on For the Ones You Protect. Seems like I'm going to have to re-write season 5 the way it SHOULD have gone. However, with the lack of inspiration I had after last week's episode, getting that spark again from all the theories was a sign. I'm hoping that by writing this story it will help overcome my low spot so I can start writing my other stories again! Thank you guys for being so understanding! I hope I make all of you and Emily Kinney proud with this story! XOXO
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Gasping for air, Daryl shot up from where he lay in bed, awoken from yet another nightmare. The dreams were generally similar as he cycled through different scenarios, but every night he would dream of her. He'd always be reaching out, trying to save her, but wouldn't get there in time. Sometimes she'd be swarmed by walkers, other times she was gunned down in front of him. In the worst ones, he'd be enveloped by darkness, seeing nothing in whichever direction that he looked, but he could hear her. He could hear everything, but he was never able to find her. Tonight was no different. He could see her blue eyes, sharp and determined, and her blond hair flowing around her, but after three years he'd started forgetting the sound of her voice. While he hated his dreams, they were the only way he could hear her anymore.
There was a knock on his door and Daryl wiped his hands over his face before begrudgingly leaving his room to see who was calling on him at such an early hour.
"Dwight?" Daryl squinted his eyes as the sunrise cascaded across his face, "You got a reason t'be here at six in the fuckin' mornin'?"
"Rise an' shine man," Dwight smirked tiredly, "We got two people at the gates. Older man claims he knows Rick."
"Alright," Daryl said with a nod, "I'll be right there."
With that he shut his front door and grabbed his boots from beside the couch. Hastily tying the laces, he shrugged his crossbow over his shoulder and left his home.
It was a five minute walk to the front gates and the streets were empty as most were still asleep in their comfortable beds. Daryl wished he could have done the same, but he knew peaceful slumber would elude him so he declined the notion in favor of getting an early start to his day.
"They outside?" Daryl asked as he moved to stand beside Dwight.
"Yup," Dwight gestured to the group of men blocking their view of the newcomers, "Older man and a younger girl. They've been on the road a while."
Daryl nodded, understanding Dwight's subtle hint. Being on the road a while was the equivalent of 'they look rough, are packing heat, and should be considered dangerous until proven otherwise.'
A few years back they recruited outsider's to join their community. Aaron would follow a group to make sure they weren't raging lunatics and if they were deemed acceptable he would approach the survivors with an invitation to speak with their leader, who inevitably passed the final judgment. Aaron always had Eric close by to handle business if things went bad. It wasn't until the incident where Eric had been stabbed and his horse stolen that Rick ended the recruiting company, claiming it was too dangerous to continue. Now if outsider's happened to stumble upon their safe haven, they were interviewed at the gate. If they were approved, they were taken to Rick, who would decide whether they were allowed to stay. They were given a trial run for the first few weeks, not allowed their weapons during the initial period, and were monitored until they were no longer considered a threat. It wasn't a perfect strategy, but it worked for them.
"Bes' get this over with," Daryl grumbled, dropping his crossbow to the ground and knocking back a bolt.
He approached the guards, nodding to one of them as he held his crossbow firmly, and then they were moving out of his way and Daryl was able to see their visitors for the time. His breath caught in his throat and he had to blink several times to make sure he wasn't imagining what he was seeing.
In front of him stood a woman who looked to be in her late teens - early twenties. There was a dangerous air about her, accented by the seventeen inch blade that extended past her hand where she gripped the handle of the forearm machete that was strapped tightly just under her elbow. Her left hand rested on the pistol holstered around her hip while her stunning blue eyes watched him; clear and cautious. Her long, blond hair, much longer than he remembered, was braided and the ends brushed against the machete strap on her right arm. She had a scar on her right cheek and another across the left side of her forehead. However the most telling characteristic was the circular scar at the top-right side of her forehead.
Daryl wasn't sure when he had dropped his crossbow, but with the sudden wave of nausea that had him unsteady on his feet, he was grateful his hands were empty so he could brace himself against his knees. He felt dizzy, like the world was turning upside-down, and in a way…it had.
There in front of him, next to an older, black man, stood Beth Greene.
The same girl that had haunted his dreams over the past three years was alive and standing outside of the gates to his home. She had been shot…a through and through. Her blood had been on his lips…on Rick's neck…on his hands as he carried her. They had buried her! He had dug her grave, Father Gabriel had delivered a eulogy while everyone mourned for her, and they had buried her! For her to be standing in front of him was…impossible.
"Daryl?" He felt Dwight's hand rest on his shoulder.
"How…" He pushed himself to stand upright, "How tha' fuck are you here?"
He took a step toward them, but was stopped when her companion took a step slightly in front of her and raised his machete.
"Son," the black man began firmly, "We don't want no trouble. I jus' want to talk to Rick. We heard he was the leader of this establishment."
Dwight immediately raised his gun and pointed it at the duo, "Drop your weapon," he hissed.
Daryl's eyes never left the girl in front of him. He was slowly beginning to catch his breath, but the constricting ache in his chest refused to subside. Then she spoke and Daryl felt like his heart was going to burst.
"It's okay," she wrapped her free hand around her companion's arm and the machete slowly lowered back to the man's side.
Daryl was having a hard time keeping his thoughts coherent, but he needed answers. He needed to know how she had survived. He hadn't checked for a pulse, but she'd been shot through the head and her body had already grown cold before they had lowered her into the ground. He wanted answers.
"You were dead. I carried you down five flights of stairs and out of that hospital. You…you were shot! You were dead! I buried you…we buried you…how…" he was beginning to hyperventilate.
Beth calmly stepped forward until she was standing in front of him. With a shaky hand, he tentatively reached out for her. The tips of his fingers ghosted over the scar of her bullet wound and grazed her cheek as he lost the strength to hold him limb in the air and his hand flopped back to his side. She was real.
Her eyes danced between his, but she said nothing.
He could taste salt in his mouth and felt a chill to the air that breezed against the wet streaks trailing down his cheeks. People were murmuring around him, but he couldn't make out their words. For the moment, it was just him and the woman he had thought he'd lost.
His eyes fluttered closed when she brought her hand up and wiped the tears from his face and he felt a sort of elation that had escaped him since that day at the hospital. He instinctively turned into her touch, relishing the warmth of her skin that was such a stark contrast to the last time he had held her.
Everything in the world was suddenly right. Beth was alive. Beth was alive! She wasn't dead and buried in the shallow grave they had managed to create for her. She hadn't been erased from this cursed planet. She was alive, and breathing, and warm.
Her hand fell away much too soon and he opened his eyes to take in the sight of her. Her golden hair glowed in the rays of the rising sun and he felt…complete. He had a million questions he wanted to ask her, ask the older man with her, but he didn't want to ruin the moment.
He could tell she was searching for something, but of what he could not say. However, one thing Daryl had learned in this cold, hard world was that things were always too good to be true. Just as quickly as his world had righted itself, he plummeted from the high he had reached and the enchantment was shattered by the words that flowed from her lips.
"Who are you?"
...
A/N: Welcome to Denial-Land everyone! Population: The Bethyl Fandom (Need incentive? We have Worker's Compensation for actors who are abruptly axed from their shows without appropriate warning due to overall terrible writing and poor decision making by the big wigs!) Join today! ;^ P Lol
Chapter 2 will give more detail on the people mentioned here and life in Alexandria so if you aren't sure what Alexandria is about, don't worry! I'll fill you in! If you don't know what a forearm machete is (if you've ever played the BloodRayne video games, then you'll know what I'm talking about) then you can google it! They are AWESOME! It's very reminiscent of Merle's contraption after he lost his arm. It would probably be my weapon of choice should a zombie apocalypse ever actually occur!
So I took some liberties with the comic because the events of the T.V. have taken a different route. I'm convinced that Beth was killed in order to bring out Maggie's 'craziness' like happens in the comics. I don't' see them killing off who Negan really kills (in the comics) in the show, but I said the same for Beth…so who knows.
I tried my best to mesh the comics and the T.V. show together. For the characters still alive, I've taken what they're doing straight out of the comics. For those who are dead in the comics, I had to do the best I could to fit them into the community. Obviously certain events from the comics didn't take place (such as Morgan meeting with the group much earlier in the comics and going with them to Alexandria), but he's there all the same! I did my best to keep things 'fictionally realistic' and as most of you know, I'm a stickler for details, so I was very thorough with my research before I even began writing! I hope you guys enjoyed this! Please let me know what you think!