Beth's eyes opened only for a fraction of a second. A sharp light scorched across her sight forcing her to close them immediately afterwards. Her eyelids were rough like sandpaper. There was a flurry of words flying around her head but she couldn't seem to understand them for all her effort.
She was just so tired. All her limbs were weary and Beth wanted nothing more than to sink back into restful slumber.
For a moment she was floating, unhindered by pain or weight. It was like she had jumped into a pool and the water had enveloped all of her. Cocooning her in sensory isolation and holding her in stasis.
Beth would have stayed like that forever but agony snaked through her body like electricity, burning in its wake. Her mouth wouldn't open, otherwise she'd have screamed. As quickly as the pain came it vanished.
There was a gentle palm against her cheek and Beth forced her eyes open again. Her vision was bleary and she needed to blink a few times to see clearly the person kneeling next to her, kindly stroking her face.
Lori Grimes.
Noticing Beth's return to consciousness, Lori smiled.
"Hi Beth."
Lori was regarding her with a maternal warmth that Beth hadn't seen since her own mother had passed away. Tears rose unbidden and Beth wordlessly groped for Lori's hand. Their fingers locked. Lori's skin was cool but she held Beth's hand tightly, completely solid.
"I told you she was alright," another voice interjected abruptly.
Beth groaned and rolled onto her back. She should have known that Merle was going to be here.
The look Lori shot him was a lot less compassionate than the one Beth received.
"And I told you I didn't need your opinion," Lori fired back.
"What are you doing here?" Beth directed her question at Lori who was still simmering in Merle's direction. Beth could only guess at what he'd been saying before Beth woke up. Likely nothing helpful or nice.
"I was about due to check in on my kids," Lori explained.
Beth remembered Merle saying something of the kind during their first conversation. Exhaling sharply, Beth tried to stand up. Her head spun and it took Lori's assistance to get her upright.
Beth didn't relinquish her grasp on the older woman even after she got her feet underneath her. It had been so long since she'd been touched by anyone else and Beth hadn't fully comprehended how starved for human contact she was.
"You look like hell," Merle observed, chancing to get a bit closer.
"You should see the other guy," Beth joked wearily.
"Is-"
"He's ok," Beth mumbled. Daryl would be worried out of his mind after her dramatic exit but at least he had been unharmed when she'd been pulled away. "He says hi."
Merle's smile lost some of its harsh edges and became slightly more genuine. "I just bet he did."
Lori glanced between the pair of them. "Daryl?" she clarified.
Beth nodded. "I spend most of my time down there with him."
"And he can see you?" Lori pressed, emotion leaking into her tone.
"Yes. But it's just him."
Lori bit her lips and leaned backwards for a beat. "I can only see them from a distance," she confessed weakly. "And it keeps getting harder to go back."
"Carl can't see me but he's doing well," Beth hurried to reassure. "He has a crush on a girl."
That earned a feeble laugh from Lori. "He used to have a crush on you," she pointed out.
Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "That was puppy love. He really likes this girl and I get the feeling she quite likes him too."
Merle snorted. "Damn teenagers."
Lori ignored his derision. "What type of person is she?"
"Enid? Well kind of what you'd expect from a teenager who is surviving the apocalypse. A little bit surly but she's tough too. And a sweet girl underneath all her defences."
"Can't ask for more than that," Lori murmured. "And my baby?"
"Growing so quickly!" Beth described excitedly. She had loved seeing Judith again after so many months separated from the little girl. "She's crawling around now. I think she'll send Rick grey when she starts walking."
"Are we seriously going to waste time chit chatting about babies? Last time you didn't want to spend a single second here longer than necessary." Merle's disruption was rude but relevant. How long could she afford to be in Limbo while the world passed by?
"You don't have to go back," Lori noted quietly. "You've checked on them, you could move on with me."
Beth hesitated before replying. Move on? She could see her father, mother and brother again. But she wouldn't be able to go back. She'd be confined the same way Lori was. She would be able to visit maybe but unable to ever speak to Daryl. He'd think she had abandoned him again.
"I think your silence says it all," Lori said softly. Merle wisely chose to stay silent on the subject.
"I do want to move on," Beth insisted. "Just not yet. I've got unfinished business."
"Daryl's your unfinished business?" Lori spoke quietly so Merle wouldn't hear her. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and comprehension.
"He's a big part of it," Beth admitted. "I'm not sure I could move on until I understand why he's my unfinished business."
An understanding smile graced Lori's face again. "Maybe not so difficult to understand but difficult to acknowledge?"
Beth couldn't answer that.
"Just think about what I said. It's nice to see the people we care about but we don't belong there anymore. You'll wear yourself down trying to be part of both worlds."
"Time's a-wasting," Merle snapped, his already thin supply of patience evaporating.
"Are you stuck with him?" Beth asked Lori with a wince.
Lori twisted her mouth in annoyance. "He's here every time I am. But he's not so bad when you begin to realise why he behaves like such an obnoxious idiot."
"I heard that!"
"Good. You're an obnoxious idiot," Lori repeated for good measure.
"I have to get back," Beth declared with a sigh. "If you see my family, can you please tell them I love them and that I'm thinking about them?"
"Of course, sweetie."
"Tell my no-account brother that I better not see him any time soon. I'm enjoying the peace and quiet too much to have him come along and ruin it."
Beth rolled her eyes at the circular way Merle phrased his message of affection for his brother.
"So 'don't die'? Got it."
"Knew I could count on you to take care of him, blondie." Merle's accompanying wink was knowing but fond.
…
Daryl was slouched low in the passenger seat of the car. He had been chewing on his thumb nail for most of the ride, one foot carelessly balanced on the dash. He was trying to project an image of calm nonchalance but he knew he was failing. His insides were churning with anxiety. Beth had saved his life but it had cost her. Something had been torn out of him when he witnessed her collapse and subsequent disappearance.
He was also attempting to pay no attention to the inquiring glances Aaron kept shooting in his direction. Daryl shouldn't have called her name out loud but he hadn't been thinking. Not only did he come across as crazy, talking to someone that wasn't there, but his cry had turned back half the walkers. Beth's sacrifice had been in vain. He might have lost her for good and for what?
Luckily Aaron still had his wits about him or he'd still be kneeling there in the dirt, staring at the space Beth occupied only seconds before. Aaron had herded him into the car and set off back to Alexandria. He'd managed to resist the urge to launch into an interrogation for now but Daryl knew this restraint would be temporary.
Aaron was a helper – he empathetically reacted to signs of pain and distress and did everything in his power to make things better. Daryl sincerely thought it was an admirable quality but by the same token, if Aaron tried to get in touch with Daryl's inner demons then it was going to be real hard not to punch the other man in the face.
Daryl had his chin tucked in and his shoulders raised in a defensive posture. He could only hope that would be enough to deter Aaron from trying to snoop in his business.
"So? Beth?"
No such luck.
Daryl pretended he couldn't hear the question but his jaw tightened at the sound of her name. Was that really the last time he would ever see her? He couldn't accept that. Didn't want to accept it. He'd dealt with losing her once before and what was the point of returning her to his life only to have her stolen away again? It would be beyond cruel.
"That's the name of Maggie's little sister?" Aaron pressed. He expressed it like a question but Daryl could tell that he knew who she was.
"She died, right?"
That question twisted his gut. "Yeah."
Aaron's eyes flickered sideways.
"Watch the damn road," Daryl commanded gruffly. If Aaron was going to pry into one of Daryl's most painful memories then he could at least have the decency to not study his every reaction.
"Maggie talked about her," Aaron spoke again, more carefully now. "She said when the prison was destroyed that you saved her."
"She didn't need saving." Daryl cursed internally. He hadn't meant to engage but there was some part of him that needed to explain that Beth was far stronger than anyone had ever given her credit for.
"You kept her alive though."
Maybe he had protected her physically but no one understood that if anyone had been saved, it was him. His soul had died in the prison yard while his friends bled and his home burnt. Beth had brought him back to life.
"More balanced than that." Again, he couldn't fight the urge to hint that Beth had been more.
"What was she like?"
Daryl finally stared at Aaron. Did he think he was cleverly getting Daryl to open up? Aaron to his credit was fixated on the road in front of him. After a beat Daryl began to talk.
"She was a believer. And I don't mean the religious type neither, though I suspect she was that too. But she believed in people."
"What did she believe?"
"That there was still some good in them."
Aaron smiled as he stared frontwards. "What did you think?"
"I thought she was stupid," Daryl admitted. "At least at first. But it's hard not to believe decency still exists when she's around."
"She converted you then?"
Daryl scoffed at the suggestion. "More like she badgered me into it." He paused to remember the moment he'd realised how much Beth's company changed him. He could recall the exact second, the exact sound she'd made when she'd realised, exactly how much he'd wanted to kiss her before they'd been interrupted.
Daryl pinched his nose and pushed back against the tide of emotions rising in his chest. "She was easy to discount at first. She didn't look like much. Scrawny and short and too kind for her own good. But she was the most infuriating, stubborn force of nature." Words spilled out of him, entirely beyond his control.
"Sounds like I would have liked her."
"She likes you too." Daryl spoke without thinking but immediately regretted his words.
"You said her name back there."
"Doesn't mean nothing," Daryl snarled, anger making his accent deepen.
"I'm not judging you," Aaron insisted. "It's just you said it… well, you said it like you could see her."
"You think I'm crazy?"
"No! I'm just saying that if you did see her it would be entirely understandable."
"I'm not seeing dead girls in the forest." He hated the way he spoke, sounding so dismissive of Beth. But he wasn't able to keep hold of his temper with this line of questioning.
"It sounded like a woman screamed out there and with emotions running high it could have been a trigger."
"You sound like a shrink." Daryl meant it as an insult.
"Well that's good because I think you need one." Aaron was starting to heat up, his virtuous intentions not immune to Daryl's antagonism. Beth would have scolded him no end if she had been here to see Daryl lashing out at someone who was just trying to help him. That was enough to take the fire out of Daryl's fuse.
"Listen man, I know you mean well. But I do not wanna talk about her."
Aaron seemed to accept that response. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude but I want you to know there is no shame in having post-traumatic stress. It can even manifest as hallucinations."
"For fucks sake," Daryl groaned. "You think I have PSTD?"
"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose Eric. I think it would be entirely justifiable to experience serious emotional fall out."
Daryl's fingers raked through his hair. "What is it with people making all sorts of assumptions? It wasn't like that."
Aaron clearly didn't believe him. "I'm just saying that if you need to talk about it, about her, I'm around and a pretty accomplished listener."
"You're an irritating do-gooder, is what you are," Daryl grumbled but there was no real sting to his words. A part of him even wanted to tell Aaron everything.
…
Thoroughly drained from the day, Daryl crept back inside the house to avoid running into anyone. God help him if he encountered Carol or Michonne. They'd take one look at him and know that something was wrong. They'd make Aaron's car grilling seem easy going.
Daryl made his way up to his attic room with every intention of grabbing a few hours of sleep. Helplessness had manifested as nausea and he had a throbbing headache. He would be no use to Beth if he could barely think.
Pulling up the stairs, effectively ensuring that no one could invade his privacy he turned towards his cot but was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a small figure on his bed. Blonde hair fanned out around the pillow.
Rushing to Beth's side, Daryl dropped to his knees next to her. Her cheeks were pale and hollow. The image of her flickered in front of him like the transmission of a faulty TV screen.
He desperately want to reach out and touch her, remind himself that she was real and not an illusion created by his trauma.
"Hi," she breathed.
"You're back." His relief was palpable.
Her smile was fragile and for an instant she was almost completely transparent. When she solidified again, Beth exhaled. Her face contorted in pain and Daryl's heart thundered violently in his chest at the sight of her discomfort.
"That was a tough one," she acknowledged.
"You should have been more careful," he scolded.
Beth lifted her eyebrows. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Daryl Dixon."
"The hell I don't when you're acting all reckless."
Her grin became teasing. "Relax, Daryl – it's not like I died. Again."
"Don't," he said sharply. "Just… don't, please."
"I'm sorry," she apologised tentatively.
"No, I am. I shouldn't have let you come. We're still figuring this all out and until we do, then we should be cautious."
Beth rubbed sleepily at her face. "Sometimes I don't think we'll ever figure it out."
"Hey, don't talk like that," he told her. "We will."
Beth was sceptical. "It was hard getting back this time, Daryl. I had to fight. I'm not sure I'm supposed to be here."
Daryl wanted to snatch those words out of the air and discard them but the sadness on Beth's face was harder to ignore.
"Where else would you go?" He sounded like a pathetic, frightened child.
Beth half-shrugged and snuggled deeper into the comfort of the bed. "On, I guess."
"Is that what you want?" he was afraid of the answer. What if it was? What if she chose to leave him again? How did she expect him to recover a second time?
But if she did tell him that it was her decision to move on then he couldn't stop her. He couldn't ask her to pick him and this half-life over a chance in heaven and being reunited with her family. And he had no doubts that when Beth Greene finally did leave this world, there was only one place she would be going.
Her blue eyes met his and even red rimmed and tired they were as pretty as a clear, spring day.
"No."
Such a simple, short word but it restored hope to Daryl like a spark to kindling.
"Then you stay," he announced. "As long as you want."
"Told you that you were chivalrous." Her teasing was warm but she brushed an errant tear away with the back of her hand.
"See, how can you leave when I still have to prove you wrong?" His voice was hoarse but he fought to regain control of his face. He wasn't ready for Beth to read all his secrets just yet.
"What's the next step of the plan?" Beth tucked her hands under her cheek and regarded him trustingly. It alleviated his uneasiness to see that she appeared more substantial.
"I think we need to ask for help," he confessed.
To his surprise, she didn't argue which spoke volumes about how worn-out she was.
"Ok," she agreed. "But can we just rest for a bit. Just for a minute."
"Of course."
"And will you stay? It's better when you're close."
"As long as you want," he echoed, settling on the floor with his back against the wall. His own need to sleep was forgotten immediately.
