FADE TO BLACK

I can't look at the stars

They make me wonder where you are

The world had gone black.

First, when he'd watched the life drain from her body, the world had exploded before him into fiery shards so hot that he had to close his eyes, for fear his rage would blind him.

Then, when he'd picked her up and carried her out to her sister, it had shifted into shades of grey; the ashes of a fire that had burned brighter than the sun. The way her presence had burned into his life, shining a light on everything that was missing. As he had stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks and cradling her lifeless body against him, the sound of Maggie's shrieks had faded and all he could see was the color leeching from everything. It slipped down from top to bottom – starting with the blue of the sky and ending with his blood-red heart.

Now, he sank to his knees, but kept hold of her. No one was taking her from him again. Vaguely, he heard Maggie screaming her name – to hold her – but he refused, curling his body around hers protectively. Maggie yelled at him then, and even though nothing much made sense anymore, he knew exactly why he wasn't about to let go of her.

"I looked for her."

That shut her up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slink back against Glen, horror clouding her eyes.

"Just give him some time," he heard Carol say. "He's been a mess since he lost her. Now to find her and then…this. Just…give him some time."

He almost smirked at that. Give him time? As if a few fucking minutes and a few pats on the back could fix this? Like her death was just some bruise he had to give time to heal and then things could get back to the god-awful existence they called normal? Without her? No god-damn way. Everything good in the world had disappeared with her life and it could never be called back. Nothing would ever be the same and it shocked him more than when she had been taken and he had realized how much he missed her, running for miles after that black car. Running so long that his clothes were drenched with his sweat and his body was close to shutting down.

No, everything was broken even more than when the outbreak first happened and even if the walkers were gone tomorrow, he doubted he would ever find any reason good enough to wake up every morning and keep going.

He found the last of his courage and looked down at her, tears making it seem like they were separated by a pane of wavy glass. Her eyes were closed and her face was nestled against his chest. If he squinted, he could have pretended she was just sleeping. But then he blinked, and the blonde of her hair bleached to light grey and he felt himself start to shake.

He reached a trembling hand to her head and stroked her hair, then the ragged scar on her cheek. Anger swept across him in a wave at those who had hurt her and he wished there were more to kill; more ways to avenge her death and the complete injustice of it.

"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."

Her words of a few months ago rushed back to him and he gasped, a sob almost breaking free. More tears rushed down his face and he bent closer to her, resting his forehead against hers.

Miss her? That wasn't even the half of it. What he'd almost told her back in that funeral home that night that seemed so long ago now, was that – even though he'd never thought it possible – he loved her.

He loved her because she had been the one who had pulled him from a despair so deep, he hadn't seen any way through it except to numb himself to any and all feelings. He had decided that he would simply exist. Existing didn't get you attached to people. Existing didn't make you hurt when you lost them.

He loved her because she hadn't let him just exist. She had forced him to admit that the loss of their family and the prison was eating at him just like any walker, except it was more deadly, because it was devouring his soul. She had made him realize that only by facing that loss head on, could he ever hope to live with it. He loved her because she had become the girl who painted the world around him in vivid colors of innocence, faith and hope.

He could still feel her arms around him when she had hugged him that day outside the moonshine shack. The moment she had touched him, he'd felt like his soul had fired back to life a little bit, because somehow, this amazing girl with a hopeful heart cared about him.

And dammit, that was a reason to wake up in the morning.

But now she was gone and he felt like the hope she had given him had gone with her. What was he going to do now? The love he felt for her still lived within him, but now, it had no home, and he felt as though he might die from keeping it captive.

He'd never thought in a million years that love would take him out.

Daryl raised his head and looked up at the others and noticed that now even the greys were gone and all he could see was blackness; a charcoal drawing.

It reminded him of the night sky and he thought of all the nights they had sat together, looking up at the stars. She'd tried to teach him some of the constellations and he had pretended to listen. Now he was quite certain that the sight of a starry night sky would make him sick to his stomach. How could he ever look at them again? It would only remind him of where she was…and where she wasn't.

Where she would never be again.

A few minutes wouldn't change reality. No amount of time could change the fact that today ended his life more certainly than any walker ever could have. If he had only been going through the motions back when the prison fell, what was what he felt now? It felt like an abyss had been ripped open inside his chest and he was drowning in his own agony.

He looked back down at her and rubbed his thumb across her cheek, just under her scar. Then he set her down onto the ground, as gently as possible. Leaning down, he brought his lips close to her ear.

"Love you. Wait for me."

He pushed himself up onto shaky legs and turned to see where Rick was. It was hard to tell with his vision the way it was. Everything looked alike. Once he found him, he walked straight to him, grabbing the pistol from Rick's hand as he passed.

He saw the look on Rick's face, but somehow he knew that Rick wouldn't try to stop him. Rick only tried to save those who wanted to be saved. He never forced this life on anyone.

He heard Carol call after him, but Daryl didn't turn around; didn't look back. He kept walking, intent on having some privacy for what lay ahead of him. There was nothing back there he wanted to see. Definitely not Maggie pretending she cared and not even Carol's worried expression. Nothing was as strong as the pull he felt from her – wherever she was now.

He looked up at the sun – an onyx blob in a leaden sky – and grimaced.

The world had gone black. Beth was dead and had taken the color with her.

Now all that was left was the following after.