Don't You Remember?

Chapter Seven - Found

Author's Note: Thank you again to all of you who are reading, following, favoriting and leaving reviews! I'm thrilled you all are liking the story so far and look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter too! I did have someone ask if I follow a posting schedule and I wanted to say that I probably won't post chapters during the week (if I do it will be very rare!) but I will aim to post one each weekend. Sorry there will be a weekly gap between chapters, but I don't have too much time during the week to write and I want to make sure each chapter is where I want it to be before I post. Hopefully that answers your question! THANK YOU again for all of your support and, enjoy!


Her job was the perfect excuse to get to Atlanta without any questions.

She climbed out of bed late in the morning, slipping into the bathroom to brush her teeth and braid her hair loosely down her back. She'd found what she presumed to be Maggie's mascara in the medicine cabinet and tried it on in the mirror. As she batted her eyelashes, staring at herself, she thought it might be too much. Someone might notice it. Someone might notice her.

She had to remind herself that mascara was normal and nobody was going to care or even notice in the slightest that she'd put a touch of makeup on before she'd left the house. In fact, they might think it was weird if she didn't. She'd been conditioned to take and use only the things that were necessary in the world she'd come from.

Beth had to admit that it felt kind of good, a little normal, putting on some makeup, so she left it on, admiring her own eyes in the mirror. She got dressed quickly, her last touch being Daryl's bandana tied around her wrist. It reminded her that she wasn't as crazy as she felt.

The house was empty and quiet when she came down to the kitchen, which she was happy for. Beth fumbled through the cabinets, finding a box of cereal and a bowl. The fridge held real, fresh milk from the cows out back so she poured it generously into her bowl and sat at the table to eat. It was all so very normal.

Outside, through the window, Shawn and Hershel were working near the chicken coop. She noticed in the driveway that Maggie's car was gone and remembered that she had mentioned going to the market in the morning with Annette the day before.

Good. It would be easier to convince her father and brother that she needed to get to work quickly and not be bothered.

Finishing her breakfast, she checked her phone absentmindedly. Jimmy had texted her a few times, which she'd ignored, annoyed that he had told her that he would leave her alone and wasn't. She'd also received a bunch of texts from her old friends - people she hadn't thought of in years. She supposed it was nice they were thinking of her, but she wasn't sure how to respond. She wasn't even sure she remembered some of these people.

Once her belly was filled, she washed her bowl and spoon in the sink and went to the front door. She mulled over how she thought the conversation should go with Hershel and Shawn - she was going to work and wouldn't be home until later and to please not visit her on her first week back so she could get into her old routine again. Sounded good enough to her - she just hoped they wouldn't question it.

Determined, she pushed the screen door open, ready to stride out into the field, but was instead met by a gaggle of giggling girls climbing up the porch stairs.

There were four of them, all tall and lanky with shorts and tank tops on, huddling around her like a fucking herd. She'd known all of them in school and they were fine friends then, but now she'd have given anything to shrink away. She stared at all of them, their faces swimming in old memories of people she'd forgotten about after things had gone to shit and she'd assumed everyone she knew was dead.

"Oh Beth!" A red-haired, fair-skinned, freckled girl named Grace threw her arms around her neck. "How are you feeling?" she gasped at her. "We heard about what happened with Jimmy!"

Beth broke the embrace and took a step backwards, staring at the four girls, each of them looking equally as concerned about her recent breakup. It seemed so insignificant and small to Beth, but she guessed, in this world, especially in this town, it was somewhat of a scandal. Beth Greene had broken up with her boyfriend of two years.

"I'm fine," Beth mumbled at them, annoyed that they were getting in the way of her getting back to the hospital.

"Aw Beth," a skinny brunette named Amber looked at her with an exaggerated frown, like she had no idea what she was talking about. "You sure? You can talk to us."

"We're here for you," a dark-haired Asian girl said, nodding reassuringly.

Beth glared at them, annoyed they'd just decided to show up on her front porch, completely uninvited. "Uh thanks, but I'm fine," she said sternly. "Things weren't workin', that's all."

"But things had been going so well!" a curly haired blonde whined at her, her hands on her hips. "He was gettin' ready to propose to you!"

Marry Jimmy? She almost laughed out loud. He wasn't someone she could see herself spending more than an hour with now, let alone the rest of her life. "Yeah well, maybe I don't wanna marry him!" Beth said angrily, throwing her hands in the air. "Now if you'll excuse me and start minding some of your own business, I got somewhere to be."

The girls looked slightly taken aback, unsure of how to answer and Beth suddenly remembered why she had so quickly forgotten her group of friends. She had always been the fragile one. The innocent one. Always been the one who didn't know any better. She didn't drink or smoke or have a tattoo. She didn't take risks and she definitely had never stood up for herself like this.

But now she knew better. She wasn't weak and she certainly wasn't going to take any shit from anyone. She didn't have to anymore. She didn't need to be bothered by a bunch of nosey teenage girls. "Thanks for coming," she said, as nicely as she could, stepping through the crowd of them and down the stairs of the porch. "But I'll be going now."

They watched her as she passed them, their mouths slightly open, as she stomped across the lawn, a little bit taller now, to tell Hershel and Shawn that she was on her way to a job she wasn't really going to. Then, she slid into her truck, turning up her radio and drove her way through town and towards Atlanta, more ready than ever to see Daryl, whether he remembered her or not.

What she didn't know was that there was a black pickup truck parked in town, next to the cafe, waiting for her. What she didn't know was that Jimmy saw her truck speed past - the familiar truck he'd come to know over the years - the sound of it recognizable before he even saw it in his mirror. What she didn't know was that he pulled his truck into drive, and followed her, slowly, down the road and onto the highway.


Beth climbed the stairs up to the seventh floor, not minding the journey at all this time. Elevators were going to take her a while to get used to again. She was breathing heavily as she reached the top, surprised she was so winded after what seemed like ages of running from walkers. Again, she reminded herself, this was all new. Her body wasn't the same, her scars had proven that.

The floor was buzzing, as it had been when she left the hospital the night before. The space was crowded with people - nurses, doctors and patients. She practically flew to Daryl's room, much more eager than yesterday, knowing where he was. The anxiety had settled in her chest and when she reached the already open door she hesitated for just a minute before she wandered in.

The room was just how she'd left it, the chair still up against the bed, but the bed now, was empty. It was evident the moment she came into the room.

Beth peeked her head into the small bathroom that accompanied the room, but that was empty too. She came back around and kicked the end of the hospital bed in frustration, sending a searing pain through her calf. The clock indicated that it was only one o'clock - there was no way they would have taken Daryl to surgery this early.

All she had wanted was to see him. She'd been ready. Or as ready as she was ever going to be, but he was gone and she was frustrated and Maggie had remembered something last night and Beth needed to know if she was the only one. The bandana was still around her wrist, and she tore it off and threw it on the floor with a grunt she hadn't anticipated.

And then, in the doorway, there was the doctor she'd seen the day before and Daryl, wide awake, his head cocked to the side, sitting in a wheelchair, still dressed in his ridiculous hospital gown with a blanket covering his legs. His eyes were narrowed, like he was squinting at her. Like he wasn't really sure if she was there.

Beth took him in, studying his features - his hair, cut haphazardly, fluffed up to the side, like he'd run his hand through it and it had stuck in place. His eyes were electric blue, kind and curious, staring through her, though she couldn't determine yet if they remembered her. There wasn't a smile or a frown on his face, just a plain look about him, but it was him. Daryl Dixon. In the flesh.

Tears came, hot and heavy and her legs just sort of gave out from under her. She hadn't cried like this since Daddy died, in the old world. The linoleum was cold and unforgiving underneath her and she sobbed in heaves, the world spinning around her, dark and confusing, until she felt arms at her shoulders. They were heavy and strong, gripping her as she tried to catch her breath.

"Beth." He said her name hesitantly and breathlessly and she looked up at him, her stomach doing all sorts of flips and turns - her anxiety rearing its ugly head in her chest, pressing down on her lungs uncomfortably so that she was forced to take in short breaths. He was examining her, every inch of the wet and swollen skin on her face, like he was trying to memorize her details and she was suddenly aware of the stupid mascara that she'd put on that morning and how it was probably all over her face - big black streams of tears, gathering at her chin.

But he didn't look disgusted or put off - there was the hint of a smile behind his eyes, something she'd seen only a few times before. His fingers were gripping her shoulders, releasing them, then grabbing on again, like he was afraid she'd disappear.

He held out his fist to her and at first she didn't understand, but when he turned his hand over, opening his palm, he revealed a piece of jewelry she'd long since forgotten about.

Her necklace.

Two silver hearts, threaded through a frayed brown thread, tied together in places, barely hanging on. She stared at it hard - the dirty, broken thing - it was something she'd tried so hard to find beauty in at the prison. It looked so small and frail and unimportant now, in Daryl's hand, but when she looked up at him, watching the way he stared at the necklace, then back at Beth, she thought it meant to him what his bandana had meant to her.

He was hurt and needed surgery and had just gotten out of a wheelchair, but she leapt towards him anyway, wrapping her arms around him as gently as she could muster, still heaving with the aftershocks of her hysteria on the floor. "Do you remember?" she whispered.

"I remember."


She was in the chair. Somehow she had scrambled into it as the doctor had helped Daryl off the floor and into the bed. He swatted her away - he didn't want the help. He never did. He laid in the bed, looking angrily at the silver-haired doctor who hooked him back up to his IV. She glanced between the two of them, her lips together in a straight line, like she wanted to say something, but had decided against it.

"Surgery's scheduled for five," the doctor said casually, situating the IV bag on its pole, "I'll send a nurse in to get you ready around four o'clock." She nodded at the two of them before she exited the room.

Beth stared at Daryl and Daryl stared at Beth, the silence hanging heavy in the air between them for a minute. But Beth's head was spinning - it had been for days now, so she started talking quickly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, escaping down the sides of her face. "But how? You're here? And you remember? But nobody else remembers. I was home. I saw Maggie, my Daddy, my Momma, Shawn, Jimmy - everyone's alive, nobody remembers a thing. I woke up here a few days ago and," she reached for the bandana she had grabbed off of the floor as she got to the chair and held it out to him, "then I found this and I knew I had to find you. I went to see Merle and your dad…"

"You saw Merle and my dad?" Daryl growled, interrupting her, his eyes widening. "They're alive?"

Beth's breath caught in her throat and she realized she hadn't thought before she'd spoken. Daryl had just woken up - he didn't know anything about the world they were in. Telling Daryl that Merle and his father were still alive was probably not the best way to open the conversation.

He shook his head, looking down at his hands, the necklace still gripped tightly between his fingers. His mouth was sort of open as she watched him try to find words.

"Daryl," she said slowly, leaning forward off the chair, towards his bed.

"But you died," he said slowly, his eyes coming up to meet hers.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"You died. I…" he hesitated, "I buried you." His face fell then, partially confused, partially sad, a frown tugging at his lips and she thought for a moment that he might cry, like he had at the house after the prison had fallen, but he didn't. He put his face in his hands and rubbed his palms over his cheeks instead. "This isn't real," he whispered to himself, sounding slightly terrified. His eyes flicked over towards Beth. "It can't be real."

She nodded, understanding. "I know," she said and not knowing how else to prove it to him, she grabbed the remote that was attached to the hospital bed, flipping on the television that hung in the corner of the room. "Look," she said, flipping through the channels - a news station, the weather, a baseball game, the stock market, "It's all real. It's all working. Everything's how it was…before."

"They told me I was in an accident," Daryl explained to her, staring at the TV in the distance. "With Merle. Told me the driver fled the scene. Merle probably stumbled his ass home. Our car crashed into someone else's, they're telling me it was a young woman." He looked her over again. "What happened to you?"

"My car was totaled. Crashed into by a drunk, they said." She frowned to herself. "Maggie and Daddy didn't tell me much. Just that everything would be okay." Sighing, she turned towards him again. "Think it was the same accident?"

"It's the only thing that would make sense right now," he muttered.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Beth asked.

Daryl shook his head at her. "You don't wanna know."

"I wanna know everything," Beth said seriously. "I wanna know what happened - why nobody remembers. Why you remember. Why things are back to normal now. Where everyone else is…" she trailed off, looking at him, but he wasn't giving her much. He seemed to have shut down, back to his old quiet self.

"I don't know Beth," Daryl replied quietly. "Don't know how it's all possible. If it is even possible. If you're even real."

She reached for him then, her slender fingers, wrapping around his forearm with a small squeeze, to remind him that she was here - and that she was real.

"But I buried you," he whispered, looking at her fingers, his eyes following her skin up her arms, to her shoulders and back to her face. "You were dead."

"I'm here Daryl," she said, gripping him firmly. "Alive." He stared at her for a while, looking back at her hands, then at her face, back down to her hands, bringing his other arm over to touch her fingers. He let his hand hover over hers, before pressing down gently with the pads of his fingers, feeling her skin so gently, he almost wasn't touching her at all.

She let him explore the skin on her hand - gently touching her knuckles, sliding his fingers down the front of hers. It was strangely intimate, like he was a child exploring something for the first time. She knew he needed to touch her. He needed to know she was real.

"You saw Merle and my Dad?" Daryl asked again curiously, pulling his hands away. She released her grip on him and sat back in the chair.

"I thought you might be there," she said, nodding nervously. "I needed to find you."

"They in Dawsonville still?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers. "The old trailer?"

"Yeah."

He let out a quick breath. "You shouldn't've gone there," he growled at her. "It's a piece a shit."

"I needed to find you," she said again. His face hadn't changed and he broke his glance, looking down again at his hands. Was he avoiding her? Was he mad at her? She couldn't tell. "Daryl." She said his name again, unsure of how to continue.

There was a knock at the door then, and the silver-haired doctor stuck her head inside the room. "Beth," she said slowly. "There's someone here for you?"

Beth looked at her, confused, wondering who on earth could know she was at the hospital. She broke into a hot sweat, thinking maybe Hershel or Shawn had figured out she wasn't at work and had followed her here. Or maybe, even more hopefully, someone else from their group had noticed that Beth and Daryl were together again and they remembered too.

She stood up. "I'll be right back," she said to Daryl and he nodded without really looking at her. She went towards the door where the doctor still stood, holding it open for her and as she stepped into the hallway, she recognized him instantly.

Jimmy. Standing in the middle of the hallway, his hands in his pockets.

"Beth?" he said, his eyes filled with tears. "How could you?"