Hey everyone!
I'm so beyond sorry for the wait. Finals took more out of me than I expected and I had absolutely no time to write. But I promise I'll make up for it! I'm almost done the next chapter, so that'll be up tomorrow morning!
Thanks for sticking with me, you guys are amazing and I'm so happy you're enjoying the story. I love hearing what you think!
This and the next chapter were both originally going to be one, but it's turning out to be longer than expected, so I split them at the best point I could find.
I'm also going to point out there are some possible triggers of past sexual assault, but they're only not explicit and quite brief. Plus, considering the show, this chapter does have some heavier violence content.
Once again, I'm so sorry for being so awful about the wait.
Anyways, hopefully this sort of makes up for it.
-Lexi
The ruins of Washington were grey with sorrow as though it had crumbled from the weight of the world. Previously grand and regal white buildings looked small in the distance, like someone had neglected them in the back of a closet and left them to turn grey with dust.
At the same time, the serenity of the city was comforting as Beth looked at it from the highway. Everything was quiet and still, almost like the city was waiting for them. The skies were grey, but it felt as if they might clear at any moment- similar to the hope she harboured deep in her chest. She had tried to compact it and put it away in boxes but now- now it refused to be contained, blossoming and reaching into the recesses of her mind and body- as if it had taken root in her bloodstream and was flowing through her veins.
Daryl looked down at the girl next to him. He knew she'd tried to suppress it but hope was filling her face like sunshine, contagious and spreading to the rest of the group. One by one they nudged each other, looking at their possible new home. Maggie's had rested on her growing stomach as Glenn wrapped his arm around her waist.
Rick and Michonne were nodding at each other over Carl's head, and murmuring within their little group. A slow smile grew across Carl's features and soon he was laughing. They all were.
Daryl shifted his crossbow on his back, the muscles only twinging slightly. It had healed well all things considered. The car crash had been a few weeks ago. It had slowed them down, but they'd finally made it to DC. What should have been a couple day's journey in the cars had taken longer when they ran out of gas and had to go the rest of the way on foot.
They'd moved almost painfully slowly, which he felt was partly due to his injury. While it was mostly contained to his back, it was stiff and he was getting older (though he was loath to admit it). He couldn't move that quickly while injured, and trying to travel with Judith was a mission in itself. The girl had taken up all of Beth's time that wasn't spent attending to Daryl.
She'd been relentless in his recovery, ignoring his mood swings as he lashed out at her- hurting her more than she healed him more often than not. He knew because she'd tense and get silent, but all it took was one look from him, conveying that he was sorry and then she knew.
He'd been angry that he was useless, frustrated he couldn't heal faster, pissed he was slowing the group down, and growing more and more uncomfortable with Beth dealing with his scars every single day. He hadn't been planning on her seeing them so soon. He knew she didn't care that he had them, she had even connected the information he'd given her about what had happened to him, but it bothered him that they marred the skin she so diligently healed. It was a reminder every day that he was too broken, too dirty, too heavy with baggage for the angel at his back. She may have seen them but she didn't understand them. She accepted them but she didn't know what she was agreeing to accept. He could never vocalize it to her. While she may not be afraid of him (he couldn't even think of her loving him) she should be. She should be afraid of how broken he was. Be afraid for herself. He would mar her sunlight and then where would they be?
Now, his back was better. It only hurt sometimes, and he struggled to draw his bow repeatedly but he wasn't useless- no longer a burden to the group. It was perfect timing as they arrived in Washington with no idea what to expect.
They moved farther into the city, everyone on high alert for any sort of danger. Carl and Judith were in the middle of the group with Maggie, Bob, and Eugene. Maggie had protested but one word from Beth had her agreeing quietly.
The sisters weren't okay but they were making progress. They didn't speak that often, and when they did it was usually only necessary words: instructions, or queries about something in the group. Maggie was still wary of Beth, and Beth was still uncomfortable as she worked to understand her sister.
The rest of the group was fanned out in a circle. Rick and Daryl were in the front, directly flanked by Beth and Michonne. Glenn, Tara, and Tyreese took the sides, with Abraham, Sasha, Morgan, and Rosita bringing up the rear two rows.
No one spoke as they moved towards the section that Eugene had told them was the science centre of operations. The man himself hadn't spoken in a while, turning paler and paler as they moved further into the city. He actually looked a little green when they passed by a sign directing them to the research company they were looking for.
They were on a main street when Daryl heard it. He stopped in his tracks, holding up his hand and everything shifted to a halt. There was a distinct stumbling shuffle of feet and then everyone dropped to a crouch, the middle group condensing while the outer ring fanned farther out.
Then the Walkers came. At first it was only a few which were dispatched easily with knives. Beth had stepped forwards to retrieve her throwing knife when more arrived. She barely made it back to her position when what could only be described as a herd descended on them.
The Walkers didn't move quickly but their sheer numbers were overwhelming. That's when Daryl started shooting. He was on his fourth draw when he knew it would be his last for a while, immediately shifting to his hunting knife.
Beth began to throw. But as with all ammunition, her knives depleted too quickly and then she was left with only a hunting knife as well. One particularly large Walker stumbled towards her, forcing her retreat one step before she hurled her weight into a kick that hit it squarely in the chest- shoving it backwards. She followed it with a kick to the kneecap, shattering the bone under decaying flesh. The Walker fell and then her knife was plunging into it's skull. She only had time to push it off her before another came at her.
Daryl hadn't been in a fight for a long time, but as his muscles began to move he felt himself flow easily into the motions. To anyone watching, Daryl Dixon was a machine. He struck with both hands, punching and stabbing. His arms moved in a flurry of deadly grace. The man was born a fighter, and this was something he did well. He hardly felt his back as he stabbed yet another Walker, barely removing his knife before it was plunging into another dead creature.
His anger from the past few weeks channeled into his attacks as he battled his way through a particularly well muscled Walker. It had to be new, had to have died recently. This thought remained in his mind even though he pushed it back to contemplate later.
He could see Beth holding her own to his right, her hair slowly turning reddish brown with blood, and Rick fighting to his left. So far nothing had broken through them but he knew they wouldn't be able to hold this up for long. He pushed a Walker into another, tripping them both before leaning down to stab one while he stomped hard directly onto the other's skull: gory but effective.
He could see the signs of fatigue wearing on them all but the Walkers kept coming. Even Daryl was fading when the first Walker fell by bullet.
There had been no sound, indicating a silencer but he knew no one had drawn their gun. Then another Walker fell. Shots rained down from above as the prison group condensed into a tighter formation, backing away from the falling Walkers, everyone looking to the sky with one eye, the other on the attacking dead.
Only when the last Walker went down did he allow himself to move from his fighting position. Beth did the same, almost folding into him.
Daryl surrounded her, his presence strong right next to her, drawing his crossbow one more time, his face wiped clean of any emotion that would give away any discomfort, raising the bow. Beth pressed closer to his side, not quite touching him.
Then they appeared from the alleys. "Well hello there."
A tall, black haired, bearded man stepped forwards, almost weighed down by the sheer number of weapons he carried on his body.
Beth allowed herself to reach up to grip Daryl's vest when more men appeared from the shadows. Her grip on her knife became almost sweaty, her face utterly impassive. She could see Morgan shift towards her in her peripheral vision, and obviously so could Daryl, as he moved from being slightly in front of her to obscuring her completely.
These men were not good men. They leered, disguising their intentions with friendly words. She had killed men like these before, and she had been stupidly hoping she wouldn't have to again.
That tightness in her chest from before she found her family returned. The hope that had been spreading through her vanished, in it's place an icy coldness as she prepared herself for what was to come. These men wouldn't let them leave, not without a fight.
Daryl moved back slightly and she moved forwards, pressing herself entirely against his back, taking the only comfort she could from the security he provided. She clung to the idea that Daryl would protect her. Daryl would save her if she couldn't save herself.
She could feel the tension in his body as he held the crossbow directly at the bearded man's head level. There was no doubt he couldn't feel how rapidly her heart was beating.
"Breathe Greene." Daryl muttered under his breath, loud enough only she could hear and so Beth focused on the measured rise and fall of his back. She tried to breathe with him, slow her thoughts down a little.
It wasn't working.
She had been so stupid. She had honestly believed she was safe. She had let her walls down, tried to believe that these men couldn't hurt her anymore. The memory Gorman's hands slithering up her shirt wormed their way into her thoughts- drowning her in memories of the other men who had touched, or at least tried to touch her.
Her breathing quickened again as she tried to remember Daryl was there to protect her but the thought did little against the tidal wave of memories crashing around her. Her walls had held these back. She hadn't let herself think of them.
Sweaty hands running up her back and catching in her hair.
Not here. Not now. Now was not the time for this. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.
"You're like a fucking ray of sunshine aren't ya? I always liked blondes."
A slap to the face.
Someone kicking her ribs.
A strangled gasp escaped her throat as she fought to catch her breath.
Then his voice again but more insistent, "Come on girl."
Don't cry.
Her knife slamming into his chest. Someone else's leg. Another throat. Pushing him into the sea of Walkers.
Stop feeling.
Daryl could feel her breathing working itself into a hyperventilation. His heart was breaking as he couldn't turn to do anything, not without showing her to the men, or dropping his threat against them. He could feel her fighting for breath, her heart beating an unrelenting yet stumbling beat against his back and then he almost dropped his bow.
Her hand had slipped under his vest onto the bare skin of his back. She wasn't touching scars, she was familiar enough with his back to know where each one was but he could feel her sweating palm against his skin. She'd cleaned and stitched him but never touched anywhere that wasn't injured.
Beth couldn't help it. She needed more than his vest to anchor herself. She needed to get out from under her thoughts, she needed to build her walls back up and the only way she could do that was by tethering herself to the moment. She had to remind herself Daryl was there; that he was real.
Her face pressed into his vest, smelling the familiar oil, leather and sweat. His muscles were incredibly tense as she rose to her tiptoes and the tips of his hair brushed against her forehead. She was suddenly thankful he hadn't cut it in so long.
The final thing that brought her back was the word he spoke, pleading, "Beth".
She felt a wall slam back into place, her feet firmly on the ground, and her hand left his back to return to its grip on his vest.
Daryl felt her breathing slow as whatever she'd been trying to do worked. Her heartbeat regained some semblance of a rhythm and while she had tensed to stone, she was functioning okay.
She nodded against his spine before her head shifted back a little, though her body didn't leave his and for that he was immediately grateful. He was still thrown off by her touch but he would have done anything to help her at the moment. It was all he could do to keep from turning and burying her in his body, trying to mould her into his form, as if he could hold her together purely with the strength of his will and his arms.
He briefly wondered if that was her thought process for launching herself at him at the moonshine shack.
Instead, he remained focused on the man in front of him and then Rick spoke.
"Who are you?"
Yeah I know I'm terrible, such a long wait for a cliffhanger but the next chapter will be up by tomorrow morning I promise! Plus, there's a lot more Bethyl in it. A lot.
Thanks for reading, hopefully you liked it! Please let me know :)