Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.
Thank you Nicole for editing this! XOXO
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Prompt: #96 Stairs/Steps (Part 3 of 3)
It was surreal. The barn was no longer standing, the RV having burned to the ground along with it, but the house itself was exactly as they had left it that night. It looked untouched by time, standing strong against the untended pastures.
Beth seemed in lighter spirits. He had feared coming back to the house would have only made things worse, but the closer they came to the house, the brighter her smile grew. She had walked passed where Patricia had been slain, only giving the area a hard look before moving on, and she had eyed the charred axles of the RV long enough for Daryl to remember Rick mentioning how Jimmy had been inside when it was overrun. They had all lost people; she had just lost a lot more than most.
"I never thought I'd see it again," Beth stated, nodding toward the house.
"Surprised it ain't been picked clean," Daryl replied as he opened the front door and entered the house with his crossbow raised.
Beth was behind him, her knife held tightly with her eyes trained on the fields, and after doing a sweep of the house he signaled toward the stairs. Beth stayed at the base of the wooden steps and waited as he checked the rooms of the top floor.
"All clear," he bellowed down below for her to hear.
Beth nodded and took the stairs two at a time, heading straight for the door that Daryl had suspected was her room.
"Everythin' is exactly how I left it," she murmured as her fingers left trails in the dust of everything she touched.
He watched her carefully while she stood in front her a desk near her window seat. Her back was to him and not being able to see her expression unnerved him. She didn't acknowledge him as he approached her, but the silent tears running down her cheeks and the genuine smile on her face was enough for him to realize she had found what she was looking for. He stood next to her, giving her silent support, but he wasn't confused as to why she hadn't taken the picture out of the frame.
"You gonna' take it?" He asked quietly.
She wiped the tears from her face, her smile never faltering, and looked up at him. He wasn't sure he had ever seen Beth with such a calm expression.
"No," she shook her head, "I'm not gonna' take it."
He wanted to point out that they had just traveled over half a day so she could get an insignificant piece of glossy paper, but he couldn't find it in himself to be crass with the look she held on her face.
"Why not?" He asked curiously.
"I'm not the girl in this picture anymore," she turned back to the photo, "I meant what I said when I told you that you gotta' stay who you are, not who you were."
He bit the inside of his lip, unsure of how to reply.
"I heard once that 'when someone you love becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure,'" she smiled back up at him, "So I'll treasure all the memories I have living in this house, but I'm not that girl anymore. Daddy wasn't the same man. Maggie…"
"You don't at least wanna' pic of your mom? Your bro?" He pressed, wanting to make sure she wouldn't regret her decision.
"We can't live in the past. Coming here and seein' the picture one more time…that's enough," she gently traced the glass protecting the photo, "I never got to say goodbye t'any of them. Not Momma or Shawn…Otis or Patricia…Jimmy…Daddy. I came here for a photo, but I guess what I really needed was t'say goodbye."
He let her lace her fingers through his when she reached for him. He understood her need for closure. While he missed his brother, he had been able to bury his body. Beth hadn't gotten that for anyone. Her mother and brother had been burned. While he had a pretty good idea what happened to Otis, they'd never really know for sure. There wasn't anything left of Patricia and Jimmy to bury and Hershel…they couldn't risk going back when there was probably nothing left of his body either. This was the only way Beth could say goodbye; to inanimate objects that held the image of her loved ones and the house she'd lived in all her life.
"Thanks for lettin' me say goodbye," she squeezed his hand.
His only response was to squeeze her hand in return.
"What Andrea said was true," Beth smirked with a far off look in her eyes.
"What's that?" He inquired gruffly.
She shook her head, as if shaking off the memory, and tugged him out of the room.
As they walked down the driveway, her hand still holding his, she didn't glance back at the house. Daryl could feel the change in Beth's attitude. Her shoulders were set, each step she took was more confident than the last, and she seemed to have finally made peace with her demons much like he had a few nights ago. He wasn't sure what Andrea had said, but he silently thanked her nonetheless.
"You sure yer' okay leaving the picture?" Daryl asked one last time.
"Yeah," her hair bobbed up and down as she nodded, "It's fine. I've made room for it."
"For what?" Daryl asked perplexed.
She finally glanced back at him as she replied with a smile, "The pain."
The pain doesn't go away. You just make room for it.
A/N: So there's my take on how Beth faced the tragedies of losing her family and being separated from her sister/the group. I always wondered why they never went back to the farm...so I decided to explore the idea! Hope you guys enjoyed these! Leave me some love and share your thoughts! CANNOT WAIT FOR THE BETHISODE!
