"I ain't never been good with talking, so this is gonna be kept short." Daryl Dixon stood in front of a mound of dirt, facing the survivors of his group. He was a good keeper of time, being able to track the sun's movements, but he would not have been able to tell you if it had been hours or days since he walked out of the hospital with Beth's slain body. Daryl would not have been able to give an exact or estimated amount of time that it took to find a worthy resting place for his 'shine drinking friend. From the moment he stepped foot into the corridor that held Beth and Carol captive, to the moment he began his eulogy for Beth, he was functioning in a numb and blank state of mind. He saw Beth stab Dawn, he heard the gunshot ring, he watched Beth's body slump, he felt the trigger tension against his finger, and Daryl held Beth's body.
Beth's body. Beth's lifeless, imperfect body. Daryl remembered carrying her from the hospital to the gravesite, but he could not remember feeling the strain of her dead weight. Daryl remembered nodding to Maggie's choice under the Willow Tree by a field of waist high wild flowers, but he could not describe the feeling of placing her body on the ground so he could prepare her final home. Daryl's numbness started to wear off when he stood in front of Beth's site. His chest started to heave and his breathing became labored from the miles he walked carrying Beth. His muscles felt the pull that her dead weight had placed in his arms, on his back, and in his heart. His nose became inflamed by the smell of walkers and their rotting flesh. Daryl's eyes began to cloud with the realization that Beth was buried at his feet instead of standing at his side.
"She, uh.. She hated being called a girl." Daryl swiped at his face, trying to rid himself of tears. When he looked up, he saw quivering mouths that turned into the slightest smiles.
Inhale. Exhale.
"I called her a stupid little girl once, and she, uh.. She called me a jackass," Daryl chuckled with the rest of the group, "I deserved it. Of course." Daryl twisted his foot against the earth. The motion caused his heart rate to slow, and the pounding in his ears quieted.
"There's really only one thing that I think of when I think of Beth, and I don't expect you to understand why because you weren't there with us on the run after the prison was taken over. But I think of 'shine. Moonshine. She hadn't taken a drink of alcohol anytime in her life, but she was damn determined to get a buzz before the, uh... The end caught up with her." Daryl's eyes shifted to the dirt piled in front of him. Blinking back tears, he continued.
"We found this shitty shack that had a couple 'shine barrels out back, but I knew the power of 'shine on first timers. It sneaks up on you, then knocks you on your ass. 'Shine gives you confusion with this amazing buzz, then smacks you upside the head with this killer hangover that surprises your whole being. When you finally shake the hangover, you're left with nothing but a feeling of wanting the whole thing again. And that was Beth. Beth was 'shine."
"Daryl, how come you wouldn't let me drink the alcohol at the golf club? I wouldn't have minded the girly drink."
Daryl and Beth were walking through the forest that was illuminated by the house they had just set ablaze. Beth had grabbed the last jar of moonshine out of her pack, and handed it to Daryl to crack open. She felt the buzz from earlier return, most likely fueled by the house she and Daryl had just sparked. She knew that if she wanted to continue to drink. she had to do it before the headache returned and the adrenaline subsided.
Daryl's gruff laugh filled Beth's ears, "Girl, if you're gonna drink with me, I ain't gonna let you drink damn juice."
"I ain't a girl. Quit calling me that." Beth had stopped walking, forcing Daryl to stop and face her.
A smirk slipped onto his face before he turned around and began walking again, "I know. You're a stupid, little girl." He heard leaves cracking, then he jolted forward, sloshing 'shine around the jar.
Beth was clinging to his back, rustling his hair, "I ain't no stupid, little girl, you jackass." Although she was serious about not being a little girl, Daryl could hear the laughter in her tone when she called him a jackass.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pestered him with questions, not waiting for his answers, "When did you first drink alcohol? What was your first drink? I bet it was moonshine. Is it proper to call it 'shine? I've heard it be called both, but I don't want to sound like I'm immature if one name is preferred over the other, you know? How come it hits you like a freight train? One second I'm fine, the next I'm trying to stand without swaying. Hey." Beth jumped off of his back and walked to stand in front of him. She extended her hand, motioning that she wanted the jar.
Daryl raised an eyebrow, "You sure about that, sweetheart? Looks as if you've had your share for the night."
"Daryl, for the first time in ages I am able to smile without feeling guilty. Please. Let me continue this until I say that I've had my fill." The seriousness in Beth's face and tone caused Daryl to pass her the jar without a word. His arm extended slowly, but he knew that it was not right to argue with her during these times.
"Thank you." Beth took two gulps from the jar, handed it back to Daryl, then continued walking. Daryl was still for several seconds, taking in the woman who had evolved from a farmer's daughter to a survivor, and he was impressed.
They walked for ten minutes in silence, the crunching of leaves under their feet provided the soundtrack. Every other minute, they would pass the jar, allowing the other to take a swig. Beth's vision began to blur, but she focused back up with a quick blink. Daryl's legs began to feel the effects of the amount of alcohol he had consumed, but he continued walking a straight line down the unmarked trail.
Eventually, Beth got bored with the silence. She popped off question after question, adding her own little background trivia in between inquisitions. Daryl gave two word answers, raised brows, sideways smiles, and low laughs. Beth did not seem to mind his quiet attitude, but he knew that was what she expected. He appreciated the fact that she didn't pry into his personal life like she had hours before, and she was accepting his surface level answers.
By the time they found a safe and secure sleeping quarter, Beth had her arms wrapped around Daryl's neck, and she was snoring softly against his shoulder. After Daryl got her situated on the floor, tucked tight to stay warm, he sat next to her and just observed. He did not know what he was feeling towards her. It was protective, but was it more than a platonic feeling of protection? She was not the little girl that he had met back at the farmhouse. She was a grown woman, more than capable of protecting herself. She was a survivor. She had watched the others and taken in their techniques and advice in regards to surviving, and now she was a force to be reckoned with.
Daryl chuckled to himself, "She's 'shine. The strongest I've ever met."
Daryl did not tell the story of Beth's first drink, nor did he speak anymore after he called her 'shine. He just placed a handful of flowers on top of the shoveled dirt, and walked to the back of the group. Some other members of the group spoke about Beth, but he did not hear what they had to say. His mind began to go over every memory that he had of Beth, from the first meeting at the farmhouse to the sight of her dropping in front of Dawn.
Daryl was one of the last one's left at Beth's grave. He stood beside Maggie and Glenn, heartbroken but unable to express the pain to anyone. He knew that it was visible in his face and in his body language, but he could not verbally tell anyone how hurt he was inside.
There is a beautiful component that comes with heartbreak. It's something that you can see and feel. You can watch as someone's face crumbles, as someone's shoulders droop. You can watch as someone's lips tremble as he or she tries to accept the harsh fact that the fantasy has come to an end. You see the failed attempt of a fake smile. The visible pain is tormenting. However, the internal damage not only lasts longer, but is more exhausting to live with. Could you imagine having to endure a day when your heart feels like it's been shattered inside your chest? Or a night when you cry and cry in your bed, alone, begging God to explain to you how and why everything went wrong so fast. Could you imagine convincing yourself to twitch your face into something that society would be appreciative of? Not that there was a society for them to be a part of. But Daryl knew that he had to be strong for the group. He had to be strong for Beth by being strong for everyone else.
Maggie and Glenn eventually left, and it was only Daryl standing at the foot of Beth's grave. The tears had dried, but his heart continued to shatter. He knew that this was the last time he would ever be within the same vicinity as Beth- this was his last chance to explain how he felt.
"I don't know how you did it, Beth, but you got me. You broke through me, made me see the hope and humanity in this shit-filled world. Ain't stupid to think that everyone is good, but I now know that people deserve a chance. I ain't never said this to anyone, but I do love you. I don't know if it was more than a friendship-kind of thing, but I know that I can't ever find out. Beth, you were my 'shine. I knew nothing about you for so long, then out of nowhere you hit me again and again with surprises. You came into my life like a freight train, and I didn't know just how important you were to me until I lost you. It's just like when you don't know how much 'shine you drank until you wake up the next morning." Daryl stood quiet for a couple seconds before he exploded and kicked the dirt at his feet, "God damn it, Beth! Why couldn't you have just walked away? It didn't have to be this way! God damn it!" The tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees. His palms gripped the dirt that would protect Beth from walkers and scavenging creatures. Daryl murmured to himself over and over again, asking God why He had to take Beth.
When he was finally able to stand on his shaking legs, he wiped his face and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a mason jar lid. On the top was scrawled, "Beth and Daryl's 'Shine (10/14)." She had found a pen in the last shelter they had found before she was taken, and she wrote on the lid of the last jar they had drank from. Their names and the estimated month and year. Daryl brought the lid up to his face, then pressed it against his cheek. He gently kissed both sides of the lid before he stuck it in the dirt in front of Beth's cross.
"Bye, 'Shine."
A/N: Well, I'm sure like everyone else, Beth's death was a complete shock. Actually, I shouldn't say that it was a shock. From the Fourth Season and up until Sunday, there was numerous foreshadowing to her death. HOWEVER, I did not expect our beloved Beth to be killed so carelessly and awfully. I would be more accepting of her death if it hadn't been an accident and Dawn hadn't been shown stuttering how she didn't mean to shoot Beth. That was just too much. Anyways, I am still in the process of accepting that Bethly will never happen, which was made easier after I wrote this. I literally sat down three hours ago and spewed this, so please be gentle with the critiques. I did not want to over edit, because that would take away from the "rawness." UGH. Well, I hope you all enjoy this short little story, and please let me know what you thought. Even if you thought it was a piece of shit, let me know. Haha. One cannot improve their writing if no one gives critiques, whether positive or constructive. Thank you.