Don't You Remember?
Chapter Nine - Dealing With Demons
Author's Note: I lied again. Here's another chapter - I can't stop writing this story! Hope you enjoy!
As promised. Beth made it to the hospital early the next morning.
She found herself scrutinizing the outfit she wore and how she fixed her hair in the mirror of her bathroom before she left. As she pulled some of her blonde hair back with a clip, she frowned at herself. Daryl had seen her sweaty and dirty and bloody, covered in guts and brains and bile and hadn't cared in the least. Why on earth was she obsessing over how she looked in front of him now?
Deep down she knew there was something else there. The butterflies. The constant thoughts surrounding him. This frustrating need to want to impress him - though with what, she wasn't sure. On top of everything else. On top of being in a new world, trying to adjust to a new life and the fact that nobody remembered that just a week ago, the dead were roaming the earth (or the earth she'd left behind), she didn't think she could handle the fact that she maybe, there was a possibility, that she had feelings for Daryl.
There was enough to deal with already.
After a tough mental talk with herself on the way to Atlanta, she'd pushed the confusing feelings and thoughts aside. But despite her best intentions, her stomach still jumped uncomfortably and her heart beat quicker than she would have liked as she reached his room at the hospital.
Daryl was sitting up, his eyes fixated on the television in the corner of the room. The Price Is Right was on the screen and Beth smiled instantly at how silly the scenario seemed. She was hovering in his doorway, watching him without him knowing. He looked the same as he always did - rough and rugged, his resting face inherently angry looking, but she knew it was just a front.
He was handsome in a strange way - she could see it now, without all that dirt and sweat and blood that seemed to be constantly smeared across his face in the old world. His jaw was square, decorated with scruff up to his cheekbones and across his upper lip. His nose, narrow and slightly crooked, like he'd broken it in years past, but had never gotten it properly fixed. He had heavy eyebrows, sitting above narrowed eyes that, if you looked close enough, Beth knew, had crystal clear blue irises that you could get lost in, if you didn't look away quickly enough.
He looked like a younger version of himself almost, and she supposed that was right because she looked different to herself in the mirror too. The old world, it aged you. The constant stress and fear, it demanded your youth, ruthlessly, day in and day out.
She couldn't stand it anymore, so she made her entrance known, clearing her throat as a courtesy. He scrambled for the remote, turning the television off and coughing into the crook of his elbow as she entered the room.
"Any good prizes?" Beth asked with a grin, coming to sit in the chair she'd left behind yesterday.
Daryl crossed his arms, letting the remote fall to the bed beside him. "Jet ski and a trip to Hawaii," he mumbled. "Dumbass bid too much for it."
"Wouldn't take you as a Price is Right kinda guy," Beth commented.
"Call me nostalgic," he said. "My old man used to have it on sometimes when I was a kid."
The image of a young Daryl in footie pajamas, eating Cheerio's entered her mind, as he sat on a couch watching the Price is Right with Merle and Will Dixon, all of them shouting out prices for a Cuisinart toaster oven. She internalized a giggle.
"Thanks for comin'," he said quietly, causing the vision to disappear. "You didn't have'ta."
"Wanted to," Beth said. "'Course I did."
"You're gonna have to actually go to work one of these days, ya know?" he mock scolded her.
She gave a small smile. "Maybe tomorrow."
The silence that sometimes hung between them was back, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was almost comforting - definitely normal. She'd learned that about Daryl after being with him for some time. His silence wasn't always a bad thing. Sometimes if she'd just let him think, let him come around, he'd say what was on his mind.
"Tried callin' Merle. My dad," he said finally. "Don't seem like they're takin' calls."
Beth's eyes met his and she sighed. "Sorry."
"Whatever," he said with a shrug. "Used to it."
"Shouldn't have to be," she replied before she'd realized it.
"Worried, is all."
"For what?" She almost laughed. "You ain't got nothin' bad to worry about now." He was silent, looking towards the ceiling and away from her. She tried to meet his gaze. "What is it?" she questioned.
"Got nowhere to go once I'm outta here," he said quietly. "'Cept back with them."
And then she remembered.
Daryl didn't have a good family to go home to like Beth did. Nobody here to pick him up or to visit him. She wasn't even sure he was happy waking up to this new world, with no walkers and no threats like the one they'd left behind. Where it had been a joy for Beth to find her family again - alive and thriving, living their lives - she realized, it must have been very different for Daryl.
She knew he'd left behind a painful past, no valuable foreseeable future and a fucked up family who cared very little about him. Coming back to it, she imagined, was way more confusing then it had been for Beth.
"Well, maybe you don't gotta go back there," she said.
"Where else I got to go?" he asked, sounding slightly irritated. "Plus, before the turn, before things went south," he said. "I took care of that piece'a shit trailer. I paid the bills - kept the electricity on, took the garbage out." He shook his head. "I gotta go back. I gotta see…" he trailed off, maybe realizing he'd been talking too much, "if they're okay."
Beth felt awful. She felt awful thinking that his home, he'd probably worked so hard to maintain, was so awful. She felt awful that was the life he'd left behind and now the one he was waking up to again. He deserved better. And as much as she wanted to say that to him, she knew it wasn't her place.
"I'll go with you," she offered. "When you go back. You don't gotta go alone."
Daryl almost laughed. "You don't wanna come with me," he said shaking his head forcefully. "I'll be fine."
"I've already been there. Already met your dad and I know how Merle can be. I don't care," she pressed on. "I wanna go."
He shrugged at her and without thinking, she grabbed his arm. He stiffened at her touch, but she kept her hands there anyway, holding onto his forearm gently. "If you don't wanna stay there, we can…" she paused to make sure the words were coming out right, "We can figure somethin' else out."
He chewed his lip thoughtfully, looking at her peculiarly, like he was trying to figure out what was going on in her head, but not saying anything, just looking. His stare made her overly conscious of herself and her movements - what she was wearing, how her facial expressions looked. She wished she could explain why he made her feel like that. She thought then, of the ad that Hershel had mentioned running in the paper - the new ranch hand. Of course!
"Daryl," she said carefully. "You can come work on the farm."
"Hmm?"
"Otis and Patricia - they moved up to Virginia. Daddy put an ad in the paper for a new ranch hand." She smiled at him widely. "Why don't you take the job? My dad - he'd hire you no problem. He needs someone strong. Smart. Someone who can learn quickly."
She could have sworn that his cheeks flushed as she spoke, but before they could finish their conversation, the silver-haired doctor returned to the room, smiling when she saw Beth situated on the chair next to Daryl's bed. Quickly, Beth released her grip on Daryl.
"Hi Beth," she greeted her. "Sorry Daryl, but we'll need to take you for some follow-up tests now to see how you made out with the surgery. If all's well, you can be discharged in a day or two."
"Okay," Daryl said to the doctor, then he turned towards Beth. "You gonna stay?" he asked in a voice that told her that he wanted her to, without really saying it.
She nodded. "Yeah. Gonna go downstairs for somethin' to eat."
"We should be done in about an hour," the doctor told her, so Beth left the room, casting Daryl one last look over her shoulder. He watched her as she left and she felt his eyes on her even after she'd made her way down the hall. His gaze was enamoring, and she didn't hate it.
She'd been in this cafeteria before. Before she'd known the horrors of Grady and Dawn and realized how very trapped she was. She'd remembered the instant thrill she'd felt of the prospect of hot food in her belly, and then the immediate defeat that followed when she realized she'd have to pay her dues. It was so cruel - crueler than she'd realized at the time. And maybe everything had been crueler than she'd realized, if she thought about it long enough.
But this cafeteria was packed with people, seats at each table taken up by a body, the occupants shoveling food into their mouths, talking or sitting quietly. She realized, suddenly, the large group of bodies, together in a single room made her extremely uncomfortable.
Ignoring the sweat that had formed on her upper lip, Beth picked up a tray and made her way through the meal line, picking up a sandwich, some chips and a bottle of water on her way to the cash register. She paid and entered the main area to find a space to sit. Table space was sparse as she sifted through the tables and chairs.
And then, she spotted a familiar face sitting near a window, staring out of it absentmindedly.
Mustering up her courage, she went towards the table, heading for the open seat across from Lori Grimes. She looked just as Beth remembered before she'd left them at the prison - beautiful with dark chocolate eyes, mousy brown, stringy hair, shaped eyebrows and a thin, worried face. She too looked younger, though not as drastically young as Beth had seen the change in herself and Daryl. She had to remind herself that Lori had left them much earlier in the old world.
"Mind if I join you?" Beth asked, reaching the empty chair. "Sorry - everywhere else is taken." She motioned to the surroundings.
Lori looked up at Beth, her face not showing an ounce of recognition, but she seemed relieved to have some company. "Please," she said, gesturing towards the open chair across from her.
"Thanks," Beth said, trying to sound relieved. "I'm Beth." She placed her tray down and reached across the table to shake her hand
"Lori." She grasped Beth's hand firmly and shook it. Beth sat down then, unscrewing her water bottle as she did so to take a quick gulp.
"Food any good?" Beth asked casually.
Lori shrugged. "It's alright. Not really tastin' much these days."
"Why's that?" Beth asked, hoping she wasn't being too forward.
Lori's glance shifted to the window again and she looked out of it longingly. "It's my husband," she practically whispered. Beth's heart picked up it's pace. "He's been in a coma for two years."
"Oh," Beth said sadly, her breath catching in her chest at the sudden information. "I'm so sorry."
Lori shook her head at her and Beth noticed tears welling when their eyes met again. "They told me he probably wouldn't recover, you know?" she sighed. "Had me move him here to be more comfortable. Kept him on life support. Mostly for our son, Carl." The tears had finally escaped, rolling down her cheeks freely now.
"I thought…" she hesitated. "I thought he was gone. Gone for good. But…he just woke up. They told me he wouldn't, but…he did."
Beth's face brightened and she tried to smile at Lori, but the woman didn't respond to her joy. "Well that's wonderful," Beth stammered, trying to make sense of Lori's emotions.
"That's the thing though, right?" Lori questioned her, her eyes wide. "I should be happy."
Beth gaped at her, trying to hide her surprise. "Well, sure. I suppose you should."
Lori wiped the tears from her face with the palm of her hands. "I had to move on, you know? Two years, alone. I started a relationship with someone else. Had a baby. We created a family and now…" she started crying again, fresh tears appearing. "I don't know what to do. They told me he was as good as dead. How do I tell him?"
Beth stared at Lori. She looked broken and confused and wounded, but in a way Beth had a hard time feeling sorry for her. "Well, you couldn't have known," she tried to rationalize with her. "You probably did what you thought was the right thing."
"I just don't know anymore," Lori said, running her hands down her face. She looked at Beth then, like she'd only just noticed she was there. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes, letting remnants of tears finish falling down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to just, let this all go. I don't even know you. I just…haven't had anyone to talk to. I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay," Beth said nicely, meeting her gaze. Lori looked at her gratefully and Beth smiled at her. "Sometimes things just pour outta you and you can't help it. It's alright Lori - promise."
"Oh, you're awfully sweet," Lori said. "Well, go on and eat your lunch. Don't let me bother you with my sob story. I should be going anyhow."
"You sure?" Beth asked, disappointed.
"Yeah," Lori answered. "Best get back to my husband. He woke up panicked, yellin', hysterical…but awake nonetheless. They had to knock him out to get him stable again. Imagine that - two years in a coma and they knock him out again 'cause his mind's not right. Go figure. Anyway, just wanna make sure he's alright."
Beth's heart sank in disappointment, hearing Rick wasn't awake quite yet.
"It was nice to meet you Lori," Beth said with a nod. "Maybe I'll see you around."
Lori smiled at her, genuinely. "Thanks for listenin'. I'm sure we'll meet again."
Beth had a feeling she didn't know how right she was and watched her leave, through the crowd of the cafeteria and through the door. She scarfed down her lunch, quickly, hurling back up to the seventh floor as quickly as she could to talk to Daryl.
The world had gone black, like he'd been blindfolded suddenly. His senses had heightened and then came the pain. The blood. The stars in his eyes. He had faded quickly, losing consciousness, then coming back strong - screaming, crying, kicking - fighting back. He wasn't ready to go. To die, if that's what this was. He was pretty certain it was, but Rick Grimes wouldn't lose his life without a fight on the way out.
He'd woken suddenly, after what felt like only a few moments, satisfied that he'd made it. It was strangely warm and he was covered in a blanket, someone's face only inches from his as he gasped for air, his lungs on fire. His vision was blurred, the world spinning, his stomach lurching from the suddenness of it all.
"Rick?" he heard a voice say his name. It was familiar and his brain strained to remember who it belonged to.
Lori?
That couldn't be right. It wasn't her.
"Mich…" his voice stopped working and hands were on his chest, shaking him, grabbing at his shirt as he struggled to stay awake.
"Rick!" the voice exclaimed and now he knew it wasn't her - it was Lori. And that's when he knew something definitely wasn't right, so he gripped the sides of his bed and thrashed about, not ready to be here, not ready to leave her behind. Not ready to give up.
"Nurse?" he heard Lori's voice, distant now. "Someone get in here!" she cried, sounding hysterical. "Please!"
And then there was a pinching in his arm and he faded instantly, everything floating away.
