A/N: This is my way of dealing with the death of such an amazing character. It's based on some theories I've been seeing on Tumblr, and I hope at least one of those is true because if Beth is really dead, that is really shitty writing(this is coming from somebody who studies Literature absolutely every day as an English major).
Pain. That's the first thing Beth was aware of when she awoke. She was currently experiencing the worst headache she had ever had. The entire right side of her head felt as if it was on fire. The next thing she noticed was that she could not get enough fresh air. Finally, she noticed the darkness. Where was she? What happened?
Daryl. Where was he? The last thing she remembered was sitting at the table with him.
"What changed your mind?"
Daryl muttered an incoherent answer.
"Don't un-uh. What changed your mind?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Oh." She realized.
She was so confused. Where was she? She reached up and felt the dirt over her. That was when the panic set in. She was buried alive.
Once they finished their makeshift funeral for a girl who deserved so much more, the group began moving on. They decided to make their way towards DC even though Eugene had lied. They had nowhere better to go and they couldn't remain where they were for a corpse. Everybody was crushed, but nobody more than Daryl Dixon. He had been so close to getting her back. She was within arms reach of him and then she was gone. Gone because she lost her temper, like he had done so many times before. Why had he survived nearly forty years, constantly living on the cusp of violent outbursts, but she couldn't survive being pushed over the edge by the woman who had tormented her? If there was a God, he had a sick sense of humor.
He looked over at Maggie, leaning on Glenn as she sobbed and walked with the group. He was furious with her. He'd seen the sign she'd left for Glenn. Why hadn't she thought of Beth? Why was Beth only on her mind once it was too late? He knew that Beth had been right when she accused him of seeing her as just another dead girl; he had at the time. He sure as hell didn't after their time together. But, her own sister should have known better. She should have seen what Beth could do.
He thought about what he would be doing if everything had gone as planned. What would she be doing? Would he have told her that she was right? That it was her who had changed his mind? Would he have admitted that he was in love with her? That he'd been in love with her since she had suggested that they burn down the moonshine shack in her sweet little voice? That he'd realized he was in love with her when she sang at the funeral home? Probably not. He knew she would never have felt the same. She was nineteen years old and beautiful and kind. She'd never want anything more than friendship with a dirty old redneck like him. He would have been grateful for that friendship. He would have protected her until the day he died. He loved her so much. So fucking much. How could this be happening? He should have known that she couldn't survive in this world, not because she wasn't strong. No, because she was just so good and good things didn't survive long in this world.
"How're you doing?" a voice asked, breaking him away from his thoughts. It was Carol.
" 'm fine." He muttered.
"No, you're not."
"Well, that's what you're 'spose to say. Ain't it?" He asked. He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do. He'd been eight when his mother had died and he'd pushed it all inside. There was no room for it when he was getting the shit beat out of him by his father. He didn't give a shit about his father when he'd died. Even when Merle died, he'd had to deal with the Governor's bullshit and then the prison. He hadn't had time to grieve.
"You're not supposed to say anything, Daryl." Carol said soothingly. "There's no wrong way to grieve. Especially when you were in love with the person."
"I wasn-" Daryl began, before he looked at Carol's face. She wasn't having that.
"Yes, you were."
"How'd you know?" He asked her, he didn't think he'd been that obvious.
"Pookie, how could I not know? You've changed, Daryl. For the better. You're more optimistic. At least you were before. It's not fair that you never got to tell her and unfortunately that's going to add to your grief, but she made you an even better man than you already were."
" It doesn't matter. She's gone and even if she was here, she wouldn't want me." Daryl countered.
"You don't know that. Beth had good taste." Carol chuckled. "But, seriously, it does matter. Had you ever been in love before?"
"No." Daryl told her. Even if he had been, they would have never compared to Beth.
"The fact that you were able to feel that way for her shows that you've changed. You've always been a good man, but I don't know if you were always capable of a love like that Daryl. I know you. You would have been happy just watching over her, nothing else. That shows purity that I don't think you were capable of before. I don't think most people are capable of that."
Daryl didn't have an answer for that and Carol seemed to understand that he was done talking. She understood him in a way that nobody else could, well, except for one person. Daryl had often thought that Carol was the older sibling he'd wanted when he was a kid. Merle had never been around, even when he wasn't in juvie or prison. He'd always been out of the house. Carol was always there for him and he appreciated that, but she wasn't who he wanted right now.
If her throat didn't feel so dry, she would have been screaming. She started frantically digging herself out of the dirt and before long, she felt the cool air that lay above the surface of her grave. She was almost there, until a hand grabbed hold of hers.