The last time he carried her, she wasn't this heavy. Her arms had been around his neck, her breath warm on his face, her laugh in the air. Now, he knelt next to her, drawing her into him, and suddenly it felt like she was filled with lead. The gunshot and his gunshot still both rang in his ears, intertwined in one inescapable hum.
"Let me…" Tyreese had taken a step toward him and started to kneel down, but Daryl just pulled Beth closer. After a moment, Tyreese sighed and moved quietly over to Carol. She could use his help. No one could help Daryl now.
"Let's go." Rick ordered for a final time, his voice low and detached as he turned to the stairwell.
With a ragged breath, Daryl forced his body to stand and ignored the shaking in his legs. His hesitation wasn't from the weight, but a fear that once he walked out of this hospital it was over, she was really gone.
His arms naturally drew her into his chest, the way they should have moments ago, back when she could have hugged him back. He made a mistake. He thought they could reunite later. He was stupid enough to assume there would be a later. He should have known better.
Daryl shadowed Rick down the stairs to the fourth floor, trying to focus on the sound of his own steps echoing in the stairwell in hopes of holding onto his own thoughts. He could hear people behind him but his brain didn't care to register who it was. It didn't matter, not anymore. Yet again, he had failed both his family and himself. And, more importantly, he had failed her.
As they reached the third floor, Daryl could finally identify a feeling as anger rose in his chest. He wanted to cuss, scream, head back into that hallway and give every last one of those "cops" what they deserved. He knew Beth's actions weren't her own. That wasn't the girl, the woman, who told him to have faith, the sweet woman who had wanted to write thank you notes to strangers. They must have done something unspeakable to bring out that hatred in her. Even if he didn't know what it was, he was sure as hell they deserved to be punished, to pay for what they had done. But he couldn't do it. She wouldn't want him to be that person anymore. And he couldn't let her down. Not again.
As he saw the sign for the second floor, his nose finally registered the scent of blood. Minutes ago she had looked so clean, healthy even. He would only ever be able to imagine what she smelled like when she was so clean. But now the smell of death was all he could take in.
Beth no longer felt heavy as they got to the first floor. Her body had almost merged with his, like it was just an extension of him. For a second, he felt like he would carry her forever. He could keep her with the group, as she should have been.
Daryl hesitated at the door leading outside and stopped, pretending to adjust his hold of Beth. Leaving a hospital with Beth like this seemed wrong. A little piece of him, desperate and devastated, wanted to believe she was alive, she was okay, she just needed a doctor. In that moment, he pulled her even closer, praying to feel a breath, the hint of a heartbeat, but he was only met with stillness and hallow silence. He forced himself through the door only to feel himself begin to crumble again at the sight of the fire truck. That damn fire truck. Moments later, his eyes found what they were searching for on the other side of the lot, Maggie.
Daryl looked away just as she began collapsing to her knees, mirroring what he had done inside. He heard Maggie release a shattering scream as she realized what happened. It was the same scream that struggled to escape his own lips but he couldn't find the strength to let out. It was the sound of the last flickers of hope being extinguished in their hearts.
Focusing on the back of Rick's head, he forced himself to continue forward. He couldn't look at Maggie. He tried to block out her cries. It was clear he had let her down too. Her name could be added to that ever-expanding list.
He walked right past her. It was possible she tried to see Beth, to see the body, but he didn't take notice, he just kept walking. Rick had disappeared into the fire truck but emerged back out quickly, still barking something to unseen figures about staying in the front seat and not to look back.
Daryl's arms started to burn again as he climbed into the truck, reminding him once again that Beth was not supposed to be this heavy, that she was not supposed to be attached to him this way. But he pushed through the pain, drawing her even closer and trying, just for a moment, to pretend everything would be okay.
But as he sat down on the floor of the truck, and his group situated themselves awkwardly around him, their eyes told him it wouldn't be okay.
"We can put her-" Sasha began to offer, but the look Daryl gave her, one he wasn't even conscious of, caused her to shift away uneasily.
"She's fine…" Daryl spat out, but he immediately regretted his words. He intended to say she was fine in his lap, that he didn't need to put her down, but the words were wrong. She wasn't fine; he wasn't fine. Nothing would ever be fine. And he had been an idiot for believing it ever could be.