Hey, guys. I'm absolutely a wreck after last night's episode. This is my first attempt at a Walking Dead story. I wrote it last night when I was still really angry and sad. I definitely haven't gotten over it (I am perfectly happy in the little bubble of denial I have put myself in.) I'm not sure if this is any good, or in which direction I'm taking it, if any at all, it might just end up being a one shot, but I had to do something to fix the atrocious ending that we were given. (And if you're a Beth fan like myself, you're most likely here to enter the world of denial, to which I welcome you.) Anyway, it's really short and I'm not sure I like it, but whatever. Excuse the crappy title as well.
Obviously spoilers for 5x08.
It all happened too quickly. Beth's words, a quick move of her hand, a splash of red, a gunshot, more splatter of red, Beth falling the ground. He didn't even hesitate as he pulled the pistol out and went directly for the kill shot on the shocked officer's face.
He heard the rest of their group pull out their weapons immediately following the shot, but he barely registered the other group doing the same. He could feel tears stinging his eyes as he went to check on her. She had to be okay. She just had to. He'd lost her once before and he damn sure didn't search so hard just to lose her again.
He dropped to his knees, not glancing in the direction of the fallen tyrant just inches away from her. Instead, he drowned out everything. Dawn's body, Rick's voice, Officer Shepherd's voice, everything but her. She was all that mattered right now, and she had to be okay!
His shaking hands reached for her, guilt and anger eating away at his insides as he saw the bright red begin to puddle around her facedown form. He gently turned her over, holding a breath and still blocking out the others, afraid to confirm his worst fear.
He found himself instantly drawn to her face, wanting desperately to find that the bullet missed, hadn't struck her at all, at worst maybe just a graze, but there was so much blood. It wasn't hard to miss the wound. It looked like the shot hit her left eye, taking most of the precious blue, if not all. It was hard to tell how much damage had been done, as her entire left of her face was a bloody mess.
He reached blindly for her wrist, feeling for a pulse without tearing his eyes from her still form. Then, he noticed her shallow panting and dropped her wrist. "She's breathin'!" He yelled and the entire room silenced instantly, still, no one moved.
"I said, she's breathin' damn it! She's alive!" He reluctantly pulled his head up, looking at the other group. "You're in a goddamn hospital for Chrissake! One of ya's gotta be a doctor or sumthin'! Somebody help her!"
An awkward man in glasses rushed forward, falling to the ground next to where Daryl cradled Beth's body. Daryl watched him guardedly as he looked over Beth's injury. "Get a stretcher!" the man called, glancing back toward his group before moving to take Beth's head into his own hands. "Make sure the operating room is clear! Get bandages, sutures, anything that can help a bullet wound!"
A few of the people in scrubs rushed off in search of what the doctor ordered, while the police officers remained with their guns trained on the group. "Put your guns away," Officer Shepherd ordered her group. The officers slowly lowered their weapons. "We won't harm your group. Please just put away your weapons. This was all about her," she said, nodding her head towards Dawn's body.
Daryl finally glanced in her direction and saw the small pair of scissors sticking out of her neck. So that's what Beth did. Always trying to help someone, trying to save Noah almost got her killed, still might if those damn people don't come back soon. The doctor was apparently feeling the same way. "Where's that stretcher?" he called, trying to staunch the blood from Beth's eye.
The damn tears prickled at Daryl's eyes again. Officer Shepherd locked eyes with Rick. The man still had his gun pulled, as did the rest of the group. He heard feet pounding against the floor along with a rattling he assumed was the stretcher. "Please, Rick." Daryl's voice cracked uncharacteristically. He glanced over at Daryl. "Just let them help her. Please."
The man came barreling around the corner, haphazardly directing a stretcher towards them. Rick hesitated, then nodded, putting his gun back into his belt. Following his lead, the others lowered their weapons as well, but the tension was still thick as Daryl and the doctor carefully maneuvered Beth onto the thin mattress of the stretcher. Daryl was already rushing behind the doctor as he heard Rick begin to talk, but the rest of the world was dead to him. It didn't matter. Beth was alive and he'd do anything in his power to make sure she stayed that way.
