Disclaimer: Okay peeps! Don't own TWD and characters and yada-yada-yada. Canon-rejecting fic ahoy! Let's have fun with it!

Chapter One: But See how Deep the Bullet Lies

The darkness became alive in an instant, with a wretched, strangled sob, a breath that clawed its way to the surface and violently broke the silence. The darkness was all encompassing, and there was nothing to see but the inky, swirling blackness that promised life beyond its reach, if only it could be reached beyond.

The darkness was all she knew.

Was it night or day? Where was she? What had happened?

Pain, so much. In the front, exploding and angry and hot, it had been all over her. She had fallen. Down.

Down.

Down.

And then there was nothing, but now there was this, the darkness that was alive but told her no answers.

Her breath seemed so loud, wherever she was. The space was warm, a humidity in the air that was pressing down on her, almost suffocating. She was so uncomfortable, like her body was folded in half, and there was a crick in her neck, begging to be stretched out and feel life in her body again. It was her head though, that was wrong, felt it was on fire, burning and angry, with fingernails scratching the inside of her head.

Slowly, agonizingly, her hands tried to reach out in the space around her, to feel and discover. She was right in that the space was small, that was why her body was scrunched like it was. And now, after several minutes, her eyes adjusted and she could sort of see the surrounding metal, feel the carpeted and hard surface below her. Her eyes adjusted, she could also see something...glowing? Was glowing a word?

Glowing is a word.

Glowing. It was like a lever to pull. But something stopped her from grabbing at it, to escape this dark space. Without a conscious effort, she listened to her surroundings. Far, far away maybe? Moans. Nothing close. Nothing swarming and restless and...and what? What was it? Why would words not come to her?

Hungry. The hungry things.

The monsters.

Monsters. Yes, there were no monsters. So, ever so gently, she pulled on the little glowing lever, and there was a rush of fresh air as the top of the world opened up on her, and revealed a new type of darkness, but one that was twinkling beautifully and dusting of glitter across its canvas. It was full of noises and so very far away, forever out of her physical reach.

It was hard for things to come into focus, and she couldn't keep her thoughts straight. Her mind seemed to want to explode and was clamoring to have one voice heard, but there were many voices. There was screaming, something sharp, a crash, the world exploding and he's crying. Why was he crying so much? She was flashing in and out as he carried her down the hallway, down to the woman screaming, crying.

But I'm still here!

She had wanted to scream that. She wanted to let them know she was still there, but she drifted in and out, she couldn't breathe, couldn't move or speak or do anything at all. And she had exploded. The essence of her was punched through and came out the back in a giant, bloody mess, and so they didn't think to check.

There was crying, so much of it, and then there was running. There was fighting, there was movement and someone was carrying her? But it was too much, and they had to move faster.

"She's dead! You have to let her go Daryl. We have to let her go."

"-let her be fucking torn apart!"

"Have to go. We have to go."

"Fuck you! Fuck! Fuck!"

The big sound was closer now. It was a roar, the hungry monsters. They were closing in.

Herd.

She didn't know after that. And she didn't know if any of it was real. But she was in a small space, and now there was fresh air.

Fresh. The sky. You and him were running, running until you fell down and you were heaving great big breathes. And he fell down beside you. And there were birds in the sky and it was bright. So bright. Too bright and warm.

Her head hurt. It hurt so much. She tried to move, but she couldn't, and the world swam. It was dizzying and she felt like she was falling, like she had too much moonshine like that one time, and her stomach wanted to crawl away from her into the black water. But her throat was dry, and she was too stubborn to give into that burning feeling that lurched within her.

She didn't know how much time passed, if it had been a little or none at all, but then there was some light. It was cutting in and out, from far away, and voices. They weren't the guttural groans, or moans, but actual voices. They were talking normally, but nothing loud to incite discovery of what went bump in the night.

The breath in her rattled again, as she tried to work her throat. But it felt a bit like a gurgle, this strange thing that erupted within her, and all that came out of her was a cry, like an animal dying, long and low. The voices picked up, and there were running footsteps that got closer to her.

"See? I told you they left her behind."

The voice was familiar, but she was still swimming. She felt like she was suffocating. And it still hurt. It hurt so much! Scratching, scratching in her head. It was like something with nails was clawing, digging, searching, and her skull was the ground, the floor, the cave.

"Are you sure she isn't, you know?"

"No she's there, look at her eyes. She's alive. They should have let me check for a pulse, dammit!'

"She looks bad. She's going to take a lot of resources."

"Fuck the resources. Fuck Dawn's whole thing. She's dead. It doesn't matter. We need to change things, and you know it. We'll call a meeting tomorrow. Just...just help me carry her back. We can get her cleaned up, see how bad it is."

"Is it even worth saving her?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Please."

It was soft, barely anything, but the shape noticed, the one with the light. White hot blinding pain came then as the light was shined in her face, and her arm felt like it was lead as she brought it to her face to shield herself. She moaned lowly, wincing at the pain that followed throughout her body, like an electric shock that twisted and burned within her.

"Help...help me." Her throat was sandpaper. "Hurts."

"Beth, it's me, it's Edwards." He was so close now, and there were two others with, that she could tell. The light was no longer on her face. "We're going to move you, it's going to hurt. Just stay strong."

"Jesus, what about her head. Wasn't there a huge hole in the back of her head?" It was another male voice, but she couldn't place it.

Everything hurt so much.

"The exit wound doesn't look bad. There's a lot of blood. Head wounds bleed a lot, but it clotted. That's a really good sign. Ok. We're going to have to move her quickly, before we get surrounded. We can do this."

He had placed his hand on her back, pushing her to the other end, like he was saying, "Get out, get out, get out!" He was trying to get her away. He thought she had been dead, and she was there, and she saw him alive, and she wanted to throw her arms around him, but then that bitch...that murderous crazy bitch.

And the pain exploding through her head.

Falling.

They grabbed her and she remembered being pulled out of the trunk of a car before blissfully slipping into the darkness again that wasn't so alive.

There was the candlelight, the feel of the ivory beneath her fingers, piano slightly out of tune, but in remarkably good shape considering the world had gone to hell for a good two years. He had gone off to secure the perimeter, so here she sat and softly played, quietly singing, but her voice was still strong and confident.

She had lit the candles earlier to see, and the glow was comforting. The soft, amber light reminiscent of better times, and sang about beers to shotgun, laying in the lawn, and just being good.

And he was in the doorway, for God knows how long. She stopped, he told her to keep singing, curling up in the coffin all comfortable, like a cat coming in from outside and hunkering down for the night. His eyes were glittering, so very intense on her, that when she turned back around to resume, she could feel him burning a hole into her soul.

She felt the heat of him, and with that, it produced a heat in her, to where her fingers trembled and her throat felt dry.

But instead of joining him in the damn coffin, instead of succumbing to her desire to lie with him and shed her clothes, to feel flesh upon flesh, she just kept singing, and then it was all over before she could do or say anything.

It was like she had washed to the shore. There was a softness below her, the softness of sand? No, it was a bed, but the sheets were stale, the room dusty. And she felt that ocean of unconsciousness beckon her back, cold and forever back into the horizon. It would be so easy to just let the waves lap at her and gently pull her back in.

Sleep.

Forever.

It would be so easy to never wake up. There wouldn't be any pain, there wouldn't be any time to mourn, to try and tell them she had aimed for the neck, but things went wrong and everything was ruined.

And she didn't get to tell him, to even say hello.

She didn't get the chance.

So it was like lifting herself from the icy cold water. Her body was sluggish and hard to move, and her eyes were slow to open. And it was like a bad nap, the one where you meant to lie down for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, but it turned into four hours and you had no clue what time it was, and why was her mouth so dry?

It was night again, but she didn't know the time that had passed.

There was no beep of the monitor next to her, like there had been with others. She was in a small room, cramped, like she had been hidden from others, but there was a bed at least, and there was an IV hooked up to her, and something shoved down her throat.

That was the worst part.

As the world finally came into focus, with a strong clarity that she felt she probably hadn't experienced in what could very well be months, she felt like she was choking on the tube. Desperately, her hands pulled at the apparatuses shoved down her throat, tearing the tape, not caring that she had ripped and torn at her skin. She gagged as she pulled, not ripped, the tubes out. She was at least aware she should do it slowly.

It reeked, a disgusting mess of her saliva and someone who was in good need of a mouthwash. She nearly wretched as she threw the plastic to the side, and her stomach contracted painfully with hunger. God, she was so hungry.

There wasn't much light, just enough for her to adjust her eyes and see the room a little more clearly, deduced she had probably pulled a feeding tube out of herself. She wasn't as clean as last time, could tell she was definitely in need of a bath, and as she looked down at her body, she could tell she had lost a great deal of weight, her arms painfully skinny, almost like a skeleton.

Gingerly, she tried to get out of bed, but before she could stand, her legs trembled and she realized it had probably been awhile since she walked.

She was weak, her body had betrayed her.

The hole.

Her hands flew to her face, felt what was now an angry, healed scar across her cheek. She felt the other one that had been a laceration across her forehead as well now healed. And then, oh so gently, her fingers slid to the other side of her forehead, and felt there was a bandage that covered most of her head. She peeled away the gauze, having to spend several minutes unwrapping her head, noticing the flesh was different, mangled and more fresh. It was scabbed over for the most part, but she could pick it away if she want to, feel for the hole in her that went deeper than she wanted to know.

Then, oh so very carefully, her hands went to the back of her head, and she knew her hair was in ruins then. Her whole head had not been shaved, like they had been in a hurry, but there was a significantly large patch missing. This wound had been harder to heal, but she noticed it was towards the top of her head, and not as large as she had feared.

Her whole head hadn't been blown clean off. That was a good sign.

But it was a lot, it was almost too much.

She tried to bite back the harsh sob, but it still escaped her some. It echoed loudly in the silence, and she wanted to scream then. Wanted to shout and yell, gnash her teeth, escape this pain and loneliness.

Where is he?

The door to her room opened.

"You're awake."

End Chapter

Notes: OMFG WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?! Fuck you muse, fuck you! Yes, I know I have other stories, but I'm a total ass and I wanted Bethyl and deal with it. Just deal with it, bitches. Anyways, hope you like this. Let me know what you think. I really like to see some comments/criticism. The writing on this will be a little vague. We're following Beth on this, and she's confused. C'mon, again tell me what you think. Chapter 2 is almost done. Thanks all!