Daryl found himself in Atlanta, following Rick, Sasha and Tyreese right behind him, up the dark stairwell of Grady hospital, cleared of walkers just like their officer hostages promised they would be. When they reached the floor they wanted, they were met by a group of armed police officers, keeping them cornered at the far end of the hallway.
Rick laid out the terms of the trade, the two officers they'd taken in exchange for Carol and Beth. Beth walked toward his end of the hallway, Daryl itched to reach out to her, to pull her to his side, to haul her down the stairs and away from this damn place, but no matter how much his mind would scream at his limbs to move, he was frozen in place. All he could do was watch.
Watch as Rick wrapped an arm around Beth's shoulders, which sent a tiny spark of jealousy through him.
Watch as Dawn changed the terms of the trade at the last second.
Watch as Beth stood up to her should-have-been former captor.
Watch as a spray of blood flew from her head.
And finally his body would move, without thought or plan, raising his arm, pistol in hand, and retaliating the only way he knew how.
After that, it was like he had no control over his body.
He watched himself carry Beth's body down the steps. He heard Maggie's screams over and over.
He watched himself argue with Rick, insisting he could carry her regardless of how many walkers were now following them through the streets leading out of Atlanta. Watch as Tyreese nodded at Rick's silent order and gently but quickly led him to an old Chevy with the trunk already popped open.
Then he woke up.
He fought. Christ, he fought tooth and nail, refusing to give up on her. He looked over for help and saw that even Maggie had conceded, having lost all hope. Daryl was alone in his fight, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.
He started twisting this way and that, kicking at anyone who got too close. Screaming every profanity as the hands of his supposed family held him back and tried to take her from him, calling his name over and over…
The herd was getting closer, attracted by the noise, mostly coming from his screams of outrage. He couldn't tell if the hands on his shoulders were living or dead. He just scrunched his eyes shut and held on to her as tightly as he could.
"Daryl!"
Her voice cut out through the rest of the cacophony and forced his eyes open.
Then he woke up.
He was back in his bed in the little house he'd been given in Alexandria when she showed up. His eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the sound he couldn't get enough of. There was Beth, sitting next to him in the bed they shared, sitting on her knees, her hands still on his shoulders, worry crossing her features.
Daryl didn't waste a second pulling her soft frame into his, wrapping his arms around her and just breathing her in, thankful that she let him.
"Same dream again?" she asked softly against his chest, her voice vibrating through him.
"Nightmare," he mumbled, taking another breath to remind himself she was really there.
Beth's arm tightened around his chest. "It didn't happen, Daryl. I'm right here."
He took another calming breath. Beth was right. She had survived.
They both had.
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