Chapter Twenty-Two - FINALE: A World Alone

"I know we're not everlasting,

we're a trainwreck waiting to happen.

One day the blood won't flow so gladly,

one day we'll all get still

when people are talking, people are talking,

get still…"

"Beth?"

I can't believe it. Can't believe myself, because there's Beth, sitting right there and holding my hand like we haven't been separated for weeks. There are stitched-up cuts on her face and a cast is around her wrist, but I don't care, don't give a flying fuck because she's right there.

"Beth," I breathe, leaning up, trying to get to her, I try to ignore the hurt but it's too much and somehow I end up right back onto the bed. So Beth comes to me, her face pinched with worry.

"I'm here," she tells me, her forehead pressed against mine, "I'm right here. It's okay."

I think I'm crying, pulling her into me, squeezing her so tight I worry that I'll crush her. But I hold her, and she holds me, and when she pulls away we're kissing for the first time in almost a month. She tastes like Beth and I really know it's her, not some figment of my self-destructive imagination that's out to get me. It's Beth.

"Where," I start to ask when she's leaned too far away, "Where am I?"

"Grady Memorial," Beth answers. "A hospital in Atlanta."

Everything is foggy. I try to sit up and it gets dark around my eyes. Beth takes me by the shoulders, presses me back down into the bed so gently I think I almost want to lie back down.

"Easy," she tells me. "They gave you sedatives. It'll take a bit for 'em to wear off."

I blink the dark and the foggy away, just a little bit. Squint at her. "Sedatives?"

"Yeah, Edwards-... the doctor here. He patched up your wound."

Beth glances down at my midsection. I lift up the covers, which are way too clean to be at the end of the world, and I see that I'm dressed in pale blue nurses scrubs. I move my legs a bit, wiggle my feet and toes. All there. Move my hand down and push on my belly. I get a little sting in return and have to wince.

"How'd you get here, Michael?" Beth asks. I look at her and I still can't believe it's her, god it's really her.

"Daryl, he… he told us about you. That some car with a white cross took you."

Her eyes get bigger. "Daryl? He's alive?"

I nod. "He's alive, and… your sister! Beth, Maggie's okay. Glenn, Rick and Carl, Judith, Michonne, Tyreese and Sasha and Bob, they all made it out."

Beth's face tells me she can barely believe it. Maybe she thought it could never happen-just like I did. "You all found each other?"

"It's… a long story, but yeah. We did."

She clenches her jaw and maybe there's a tug of a smile on her lips, but something is missing from her. She's… so different. Changed. Her eyes are colder, still piercing but so much colder, and for a moment I think something bad has happened to her.

Besides her father getting decapitated right in front of her?

"But you and Carol?"

I blink. "Daryl saw one of them, another car like the one that took you. He, Carol and I, we followed it all the way here as far as we could. We got into Atlanta, but we ran out of gas and spent the night in the city. Yesterday, this guy stole our guns, but we found him and he said he was running from them. From here. Grady. He said he knew you, Beth."

Beth blinks.

"What was his name?"

I try to remember. Everything is still a little fuzzy.

"I don't think he told us."

"What did he look like?"

"A little bit older than us. He was black. Beat up, had a limp-"

"Noah. His name's Noah. He was here before me. We were gettin' out together, but… I didn't make it."

Maybe it makes me a terrible person, but I wish Beth had gotten out instead of him. He caused us so much trouble, nearly got us killed, made us fall off a bridge in a van…

"Is Carol okay?" I ask. Beth's gaze changes.

"She's… alive. Hurt. But she's alive."

I chew on my lip. Beth didn't say she was okay and it scares me.

"They hit her with a car."

"Who did?"

"Those cops. They just… ran right into her."

Beth watches me. She glances over at the door; it's made of wood and it looks heavy, and there's a blank dry erase board on it. The rest of the room is bare, but there's an IV hooked up to my arm and a drip beside my bed.

"This isn't a good place, Michael."

I look at her.

"These people… they say they help other survivors. But they keep you here, even if you wanna leave. Say you owe them because they saved you… listen, Michael-" Beth takes my hand. "You can't let them know you know me. You can't tell them anythin' that's true, okay? You make somethin' up. Tell them Carol is your mom, or… somethin'. They'll use everythin' they can against you, especially Dawn."

This side of Beth I've never seen before. She's cautious, cunning. Strong. I'm shocked at this change, but… there's something different about us all every single day. The way she says Dawn tells me there's no friendship between them. "Who's Dawn?"

"She's the leader here. You'll probably meet her in the mornin'." Beth glances over at the door again. "I have to go. I had to sneak in here to see you."

I take her hand, won't let go because I just got here, I just got to see her. "No, Beth, don't. Please. I… I just found you."

Beth stands up, leans over me to press her lips to my forehead. "I have to. They can't know, remember? I'll see you again tomorrow, I promise. Just… be strong, Michael. You have to be strong."

I nod. I nod and I nod and I nod, I swallow that big ugly lump in my throat and let Beth leave. Watch her open the door just a bit and slip through it like it's the easiest thing in the universe, then the door closes and I'm left alone.

I don't know how. Maybe I'm so exhausted from yesterday, maybe the sedatives are still in me, but it doesn't take me very long to fall asleep.

A few minutes after I wake up, there's a stranger in my room.

I'd been lying in bed. I looked at my bandages, felt the one around my head and made sure I wasn't going to die, and then the door opened. I half expected Beth to walk in, but no, she didn't. A woman dressed like a cop came in through the doorway, her face expressionless and cold. The way she walked held an aura of authority and confidence and it scared me. The door shut behind her and we watched each other for a moment. Here we are.

"You're awake," she states. I don't say anything. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Michael."

"Michael. My name's Dawn Lerner, I'm a police officer. Do you have any idea where you are?"

I do. I'm in a hospital with my girlfriend who I'm not supposed to know and a woman that I should say I'm related to, who fell from a bridge with me and was hit by a car; and before that, I was in a million other places. But I say none of that, instead I shake my head. "No."

"You're at Grady Memorial Hospital in downtown Atlanta. My men found you just a half mile away from here with another woman-you two were pretty banged up. Care to tell me how that happened?"

Dawn's hair is a dark sienna and it's pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes are calculated, observant, and I don't trust them. I lean up, lift myself back and rest against the bed.

"We were running from the dead and holed up in an office building for the night. Got caught off guard by a few biters. We were leaving when your men hit her."

Dawn's eyebrows lift up. "All those wounds from just a few rotters?"

I don't like the way she says this.

"She fell down a flight of stairs."

"She?"

"My aunt. Carol."

Dawn raises her chin. "And what about yours? That wound in your side?"

"A man shot me with an arrow."

"Is that how you got that bow?"

I nod.

"He give you that gash on your head, too?"

Nod again.

"You kill him?"

I blink at her. Dawn looks back expectantly.

"Yes."

Dawn watches me. Her eyes make my skin crawl and I feel less like a human and more like a specimen under a microscope with each second that passes.

"How long ago did you try to kill yourself?"

This catches me off guard. Dawn notices, she must, because she points a finger at my wrist. The bandanna itches like it wants to get away from her, too. She takes a step forward, puts her hands on her hips. I'm waiting.

"Few months ago."

"You ever try again after that?"

"No."

"Think about doing it again?"

"No."

I don't think Dawn believes me.

"See, Michael, here? We're all about using whatever we can. We don't waste. And I just want to make sure you won't be doing anything like that again while you're with us. Or at all, really."

"Why do you care?"

Dawn's eyes get a bit wider, more intense. I think they're cutting into me. She takes another step forward. "I care, because we've used resources on you we could have saved for another patient. That IV in your arm could've gone to someone else who actually wants the help we offer. So, Michael, before I go bring in our doctor to give you more of our medicine and more of his time… I'm gonna ask.

Are.

You.

Going.

To.

Kill.

Yourself?"

Dawn watches me. I watch her back. We are two bird watchers, unblinking, and in this moment I think Dawn is a predatory hawk and I'm an itty bitty thing not worth her time. The room is smothering, I want to leave, go get Beth and cart Carol out and find our people again. Because we did it once. What's to stop us from doing it again?

"No," I tell Dawn. I mean it, I do, but I wish I couldn't give her the satisfaction. I can tell something in her expression changes, eases up just a bit, but she's still a cold bitch at the center. I'm sure of that.

"Good. Dr. Edwards will be in shortly."

Doctor Edwards is a man who has cold hands. He's balding, wears glasses and a doctor's coat with his name tag still on it. He's nice enough when he comes in, even knocks for me, too. He looks at the wound on my side; it's red and puffy and angry looking and it stings when I move too fast or too much. Edwards tells me that I'm lucky, it barely missed a major organ that would've bled me out in minutes. I'm given a close-to-empty bottle of antibiotics and told to take two a day, and that I'll be staying in bed for the rest of the day and tomorrow. I accept this with nods and half smiles and a big 'thank you, thank you so much' at the end to wrap it all up. Gotta make a good impression, right?

I ask him about Carol. Edwards' face gets soft then, like he's gotta tell a kid their puppy died. He says she doesn't look good, that she hasn't woken up yet, but that if she's as strong as I think then she'll pull through. So I nod again and before Edwards leaves he gives me a tray of food. There's mixed vegetables and a mug of water and some kind of meat, too, and despite my growing distaste for this place I eat. Eat it all up and help force it down with some water, and then I lie in this unfamiliar bed and look at these all-too-clean walls and blink my tears away. Carol will pull through, our people will come to get us, and everything will be okay in the end. It has to be-we've gone through so much already, too much hurt and pain and suffering, to lose this battle now.

Haven't we?

Time passes. Late morning turns into afternoon. I have no visitors, like people are supposed to have during hospital stays, and I'm left with my thoughts and my worries and myself. I re-tie my bandanna. I play Be Good on my bed sheets, tap my fingers where the keys should be. At one point I stand up, stretch my legs and wiggle my toes and use the bathroom. There's running water and electricity here, I notice. Grady has a good setup.

If only they had a leader that wasn't Dawn.

When I've slinked back into my bed and finished off the mug of water, someone enters my room. I expect it to be Edwards, maybe even Dawn herself here to torment me again, but to my surprise it's Beth.

"Hey," she says, shutting the door behind her. "How are you feelin'?"

"Better," I tell her. "A little worse for wear, but… better." She walks over, examines my face and takes my hand.

"I need your help with somethin'," she tells me. "It's medicine for Carol. They took her off the machines and won't give her anythin', but Dawn gave me the key to the medicine locker." As if I need proof, she pulls out a key from her pocket and shows it to me.

"She just... gave it to you?"

Beth shrugs. "I might have to do somethin' else later on down the road, but… it's worth it. It's helpin' her." She pauses. "I'm gonna really, really need your help with this next part."

My stomach churns with anxiety. "Doing what?"

Beth tilts her head to the side. "Think you can put on a show for me?"

It's the first time I've stepped outside of my room. The walls are barren, the floors are white and pristine, wires run across the roof duct taped to the ceiling tiles. There are others here, survivors and patients left behind dressed in nursing scrubs and hospital gowns. I walk ahead of Beth by a couple of yards, and after glancing back at her once, I stop in the middle of the hallway and lean against the wall. She walks by, turns the corner, and then I let out the most dramatic groan ever. I clutch my stomach, cry out and squeeze my eyes shut, and in no time there's a collection of cops and some wards by my side. Some ask me what's wrong, others yell to get Edwards. I slide down to the floor, gripping my belly like my life depends on it. This lasts right up until Beth walks by again; she has something clutched in her hand, and when she nods at me as she goes by I start to calm down. I take a few shaky breaths for added effect, then slowly get back up onto my feet.

"Sorry… sorry," I tell the small group. "I don't know what overcame me…"

I meet Beth in exam room two. She's gathered her things, concealed them in a plush white towel, and I keep watch as she gets to work. It's hard to not stare at Carol the entire time; she looks so small and pale under the dim overhead lights and the silence is what kills me. It hurts my chest, coils around my heart and squeezes again and again with each pump of blood that flows through my veins. When Beth is finished hooking Carol up to the IV and giving her the medicine, we sit beside her bed and watch her chest rise and fall slowly. At some point Beth takes Carol's hand, then mine.

"Did you know her daughter?" I ask after some time. Beth looks over at me.

"No, not really. I… only saw her after she'd turned into a walker. It was early on, a couple months after everythin'."

"Was she alone when you met her?"

Beth shakes her head. "I was with Maggie, my daddy, a few others at our farm. They showed up and lived with us for a while, Rick, his family and his group. Sophia-her daughter-..." Beth's face pinches up. "At first, my daddy thought the walkers could be cured. That they were just sick. My mom and my brother had turned, and we locked them up in our barn with any other walkers that wandered onto the farm. Sophia… she was one of them."

"Oh…"

Beth says nothing for a while. "When one of Rick's friends broke the walkers out and they killed them all… I don't know. I guess I was just afraid of livin'. It was when I tried killin' myself. But… as soon as I did it, I regretted it. … I used to be weak. I didn't know how to fight, I was scared of everythin'. But not now." She looks over at me and there's a fierceness in her eyes that can only be rivaled by the strongest of wills. "We don't get to cry anymore, Michael."

I grip her hand. Her cast is frayed and torn and dirty, but I hold it anyways, let it tether me to the ground when I say, "Okay."

Beth and I leave Carol's room and someone's yelling across the hall.

"No, Percy, tell me, should I use smaller words?"

I recognize him as the cop that hit me in the face. He's got dark hair and his face looks like it's shaped into a permanent scowl. In front of him, an older man with snow white hair and glasses stands cowering away from him.

"Is the directive 'fix the hole in my sleeve' too complicated for you?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot…"

"Well here's an idea." The cop shoves Percy to the ground. "Don't forget!"

Dawn walks through a doorway behind them. She goes by, barely glancing as Percy struggles to get back up, and that's when the cop notices us standing there.

"What about you two?" He asks. "Either of you good with a needle and thread?"

"I need Beth," Dawn says, "Sorry, we have a lot of work to do." She passes by and Dawn tells her to come on, so with a reluctant glance she follows Dawn down the corridor. That leaves me, standing in the hallway with an old man and a man who thinks he's still a cop.

"So?" He asks. "You sew?"

I gulp. Nod.

"Well come the fuck on. You can do it in my room."

I come the fuck on. A part of me thinks I should say that Edwards wants me resting, but this guy doesn't look like he's the kind of person to say no to. Percy is still getting up, so I go to help him, but the older man waves me off.

"Go. Best to not disobey O'Donnell."

"You're sure?"

"I'll be fine, kid. Go."

I do. I wish I didn't have to, but I do. O'Donnell leads me into his room, where a shirt is splayed out over a desk next to an open sewing kit. Immediately I sit down, get to work as fast as I can. The sooner I'm finished the sooner I can get the hell out of here. And I'm quick, I make sure to not botch the sew, do it as well as I can, and when I'm finished O'Donnell examines it right beside me.

"Good enough. C'mon. I need your help with a few other things…"

A few other things turns out to be a whole lot of bullshit.

O'Donnell making his rounds, giving me things to carry, useless shit that could have been done on his own time. He stops quite a few times to talk with the other officers-he even shares a beer with one and I stand there, looking awkward and staring at the sneakers on my feet. I think I hear them mention something about a woman named Joan. But then we're off again, going back to his room to drop off his things, and we stop at a pair of double doors. O'Donnell glances through them.

"What the hell?"

I look over, glance through them too. Dawn and Beth are down the hall, in front of an open elevator shaft and talking. O'Donnell steps forward, opens the door and slinks through like a tiger. I follow him after putting his shit down onto the floor.

"-I closed up my office and I fixed it before it could become a problem," Dawn tells Beth. "You're a cop killer."

"I would never kill somebody!"

"But you did. What do you think would happen if the others found out? I protected you. And we helped that patient. I didn't have to, I wanted to, but there's a way things have to happen here. Don't you get that?"

I let the door shut. Let it make that loud sound, clang against metal, because Dawn and Beth have already said too much. O'Donnell has heard enough, enough to know they've disobeyed their stupid rules, and he's fuming. I can feel the rage flowing off of him like flames and I inch away from him. Beth stands up, she and Dawn turn to face us. Dawn's eyes flicker to me and I shrink away. She stares O'Donnell down.

"What are you gonna do?" She asks.

"No, Dawn, what are you gonna do? Starting with her."

"She's my ward. It's my call."

"Fine. But your people deserve to know who they're working for." O'Donnell steps out of the shadows. The tension is so thick here that I almost choke on it. "So. You gonna tell them, or am I?"

Dawn tilts her head. Takes a few steps forward. "You don't get to threaten me."

"That's not a threat. But these are the facts. You look like shit. The guys are talking, they think you're cracking. This is Hanson all over again."

Beth and I look at each other. I move to the side, press my arm against the wall. Let it guide me forward, away from O'Donnell and away from the tension and to Beth.

"It's time to make a change," O'Donnell says, then turns to the doors. Dawn's eyes get wide and then she's calling out for him, drawing her pistol and aiming it right at him.

"You're wrong. I'm nothing like Hanson. I was the one who killed him, remember that? I was the only one who could go through with it." Her eyes are unblinking, cold, just like before, just like when I first met her. I keep following the wall, let it guide me past a supply closet.

O'Donnell turns. He looks at Dawn's gun, then her, and his eyes narrow. "Lower your weapon, Dawn. All I have to do is shout."

"All I have to do is say is you came at me. Beth, Michael, get out of the way."

I move. All the way past the supply closet, around Dawn and over to where Beth stands in the corner of the room.

"You're not gonna do this," O'Donnell tells Dawn.

"You're not giving me a choice! Go." Dawn motions to the other side of the corridor with her gun. Slowly, O'Donnell starts to move.

"We were rookies together. You knew my wife. You were here in this hospital, having cigars with me in the parking lot when my kid was born!"

"Don't," Dawn orders. "That guy is gone." She sounds broken. Angry. Hurt and tired and all of the above. "We're supposed to protect people. To help them. But look at you. You're beating the old man. You're laughing with your buddies about that poor girl getting raped. That's who you are now."

"So who the hell are you?"

Who am I?

"Someone who's not gonna let that happen anymore."

Someone who just wants to survive. Who wants to keep the people he cares about safe. Who wants to leave this godless place, find a new home with his people and play piano with his girlfriend.

"That's not what this is about," O'Donnell whispers. His face goes soft but I know it's not the truth. "It's about holding on to what you have."

A tear strings down Dawn's face. "What the hell do I have?"

I have Beth. I have Daryl. I have Len's bow and my knives and I think that's enough.

"This isn't you," O'Donnell says. "After Hanson, you changed-"

He leaps forward, swings and Dawn's gun flies out of her hands. It goes across the hall, right past us and into the elevator shaft. The two of them fight; O'Donnell gets the upper hand, then Dawn, and watching this is like choosing between the lesser of two evils. Dawn knees him in the gut but then he swings her around, slams her into a wall and lifts her up by the throat. This is when I make my move; I go at O'Donnell, try to grab at his shoulder and tear him away, but he elbows me in the chest and I go sprawling to the floor.

"Stay in your lane, fucker!" He orders, and then Dawn punches him in the throat. He stumbles back, choking, Dawn kicks him and then he's standing right in front of the elevator shaft.

"BETH!" Dawn screams. Beth charges forward and shoves O'Donnell, and with a yell he's falling down six stories and splattering all over the basement floor.

I stand up. Dawn and I move, go stand in a row and look down at the walkers that swarm O'Donnell's body.

"Thank you," Dawn tells us. "Both of you."

We left the elevator hall without another word. Dawn took the key from Beth, locked it up, and then she went back to her office. Beth walked me to my room and here we are, standing in front of my door in an empty hallway with empty eyes.

"Are… are you okay?" I ask her. It's a stupid fucking question, so dumb because I know I could answer it myself, but I still ask it because I don't know what to say.

"I will be. I just… I need to go watch over Carol. I don't trust any of them around her."

I nod. "Want me to come with?"

Beth shakes her head. "Might wanna keep your distance. I'm a cop killer now, remember?"

"Hey. Stop. O'Donnell got what he deserved."

"It ain't that, Michael. It's… I did it for her. Dawn. First person I killed was to save the person who's keeping us locked up here in the first place."

I watch Beth and then I pull her into my arms. "Then make it about you. Let it change you. Learn from it."

I pull away. She blinks a few times. "I'm gonna go. I just… need some time to think. I'll come see you later." And after glancing around, she leans forward and presses her lips against mine.

"Be good," I tell her.

"Always am."

And then she's gone. I'm reminded of our time at the Prison, of her walking me to my cell and us acting like a couple of love drunk kids in a world gone mad.

Now we've grown up.

We're changed.

We're tougher, and meaner, and both of us have killed. But that just means we'll be ready for what comes next.

A little while later, I decide resting is boring. I take my medicine and leave my room, go across the hall to Carol's. The door is open a bit and I can hear voices coming from inside.

"I'm not stupid. You know her. You know Michael, too, and somehow all three of you wound up here."

So much for hiding the truth.

"Maybe that means something. Beth, you can be a part of this thing. All of you. This is important-maybe the most important thing you do in your life. And what you did back there… Gorman and O'Donnell hurt people. The world didn't lose anything when they died."

But will the world lose anything when you die, Dawn?

"And you're wrong about back there, I didn't use you. And I will remember."

Carol woke up.

Dawn came to get me but I was already there, standing outside the doorway; she looked at me for a moment, then asked, "Is she really your aunt?"

"No," I said. Dawn smirked and then she was gone, so I went inside.

Carol is weak. She tries leaning up on her own, tries to push herself up, but Beth and I stop her.

"Wait a sec," I murmur, gently pressing her back down into the mattress. She blinks at me a few times, squints.

"Michael?"

I can't help but smile. "In the flesh. And guess who else is here?"

Carol turns her head to look at Beth. For a moment she's silent, but then she reaches out to take Beth's good hand and hold it as tight as she can.

"You're okay…"

"We all are," Beth says. Carol glances around the room.

"Daryl…?"

"He got out," I say. "I don't know where he is, or Noah. But they're gone."

"Good… good."

The door opens. Dawn walks through and her expression is no nonsense.

"Your people are here to get you. Gather your things and meet us in the hall in fifteen minutes."

Dawn turns on her heel and leaves. Just like that. Beth and I glance at each other and it's almost as if this is a dream. Your people are here to get you.

I do as I'm told and go back to my room. My clothes, weapons, satchel-it's all there, sitting on my bed and waiting for me. Everything is still in it; notebook, picture, books. My mother's locket it still around my neck. These itchy scrubs come right off, replaced with Gerald's, and it's a relief when I finally have everything on my body again. It's me.

Before I leave, I make sure my Colt is loaded and a bullet is chambered.

We all meet in the hall. Beth pushes Carol in a wheelchair. She's dressed in her boots, jeans, a yellow shirt and her gray cardigan and she's just like how I've known her. Escorted by Dr. Edwards, we're led into a narrow corridor where four officers have gathered-including Dawn. For a few minutes we stand there, waiting in the silence, until shadows move behind the doors at the end of the hall. I see Rick peer through the glass and Carol has my hand, along with Beth's fingers that all coil around each other. My belly does somersaults.

Dawn motions for her officers to put their guns away.

"Holster your weapons," she orders into her radio.

The doors open and our people file in. First come Dawn's other officers, but then there's ours; Rick, Daryl, Sasha, Tyreese, Noah. There are three officers, zip tied and held hostage. I try to find the others-Maggie, Glenn, Michonne. Even Tara and Abraham's crew is missing. It makes me feel weird but I push that thought away because the cops on our side are parting like the red sea. Beth pushes Carol forward.

"They haven't been harmed," Rick says, and god it's so good to hear his voice.

"Where's Lamson?" Dawn asks with a shake of her head.

"Rotters got him," the only female hostage says.

"We saw it go down," another one adds. Dawn watches them.

"Oh."

I don't think she believes them.

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was one of the good guys."

Joe said there weren't good guys anymore. I think a part of me is starting to believe that.

When nobody says anything, Dawn goes, "One of yours for one of mine."

"Alright."

Rick nods to Daryl. He pushes one of the officers forward and then one on our side is taking Carol from Beth, pushing her wheelchair ahead and carrying her bag. They meet at the middle, exchange hostages, and then Carol is safely with our people.

One of the officers nudges me forward. I look around, surprised because I want Beth to go first, but she gives me a reassuring nod and I'm moving even though I don't want to. She should be with me, her hand should be in mine and we should all be leaving the city by now.

Sasha releases her hostage. We cross in the middle, don't make eye contact, keep going until Daryl is taking me by the arm and I'm safe. He looks me over once, twice, and then Rick is squeezing my shoulder before doing the final exchange. I watch Beth move to me. She and I, see, we don't break eye contact once as the exchange happens. I watch for anything, anything that might screw this over. But that doesn't happen. Everything goes by smoothly, Rick kisses the top of Beth's hair and then I finally have her in my hand.

"Glad we could work things out," Dawn says. Rick turns back to her.

"Yeah."

And then we're leaving. Tyreese and Sasha, they're just about at the door. They almost get through.

"Now I just need Noah."

We freeze. I freeze. Beth goes rigid and then we all turn around.

"And then you can leave."

What happened to I will remember, Dawn?

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Noah was my ward. Beth took his place and I'm losing her, so I need him back."

Like hell you do. Like fucking hell-

"Ma'am, please, it's not-" the female hostage starts. Dawn cuts her off with her name.

"My officers put their lives on the line to find him. One of them died."

Noah steps forward. He steps fucking forward, like Dawn has won, he's letting her win this sick power game.

"No," Daryl grunts. He stomps over, goes to stand beside Rick. "He ain't stayin'."

"He's one of mine, you have no claim on him," Dawn says matter of factly.

Claim.

Rick tilts his head to the side. "The boy wants to go home, so you have no claim on him."

And Dawn, her face pinches up and everything is going to hell. "Then we don't have a deal."

"The deal is done-"

"It's okay," Noah stutters. He limps forward, and god I hate that, he limps to the boundary between hope and use anything you can use. Rick tries to stop him but it doesn't work. "I gotta do it." He gives Rick his pistol.

Beth takes a few steps up. I go, too, because I don't want to let her go. I'm not going to. "It's not okay…" She murmurs. And it isn't.

"It's settled," Dawn says. I wish I could tell her to go fuck herself.

Noah moves on. Barely gets to Dawn before Beth says, "Wait!" and then she's slipping away. Going, going, wrapping her arms around Noah. I think I see metal glint on her wrist but I'm too focused on the way Dawn watches them.

Like a smug champion.

"It's okay," Noah tells Beth.

"I knew you'd be back."

Beth's eyes flicker up to Dawn. There's fire in them, fire cutting through the quiet as she moves away from Noah. Beth does not break eye contact as she takes a few steps towards her, gets right up in Dawn's face. I want her to move, want to go grab her and pull her away, because there is this feeling in my gut.

It is the same thing. The same darkness, the same calm before the storm, that I felt just before her father died.

"I get it now."

There is so much power in Beth. So much grace, adulthood. A newfound courage buzzing around her like electricity. She flicks her wrist and something shiny is in her hand.

Beth brings her fist down onto Dawn's chest. Quick like a spark.

A gunshot goes off.

Beth's head snaps back and a spray of blood flies into the air.

There's that moment again.

That dark, dark place that comes when you've lost something. The feeling of when someone was just here, but now they're not. That even if you still see them, see their skin and their clothes, they're just… not here.

Beth falls to the ground. Dawn's eyes are wide. She says something, shakes her head.

I don't know how. Don't know when. Can't remember how this comes to be, why it's me, but I'm raising my Colt, aiming right between the eyes. Eyes that used to belong to a woman so sure of herself, a woman that's now begging for her life.

Will the world lose anything when you die, Dawn?

I pull my trigger. Quick like a spark. Dawn's eye explodes and she's thrown back. Dead.

Claimed.

Somehow we all end up pointing our guns at each other.

"No!" Shepherd orders, "Hold your fire!"

"Your people are here to get you."

"It's over! It was just about her."

"Now I just need Noah."

"Stand down."

"I get it now."

And somehow, I find the courage to look at Beth.

She's lying there, right there, on the floor. Her blood makes trails, dots, little streams across the tile. I stare at it until I step forward, get down and try to pick her up, try to get her off of those too clean floors and into my arms where she belongs, where she's supposed to be, but I can't. I just pull at her too limp arms and tug on her too wet cardigan and I can't, I can't I can't I can't. Can't see anything because I'm crying too hard. These stupid tears won't let me see anything. But then there's Daryl, lifting her up with ease-but there is no ease, really, it's the hardest thing he's had to do and he can't leave without me. I can see the heartbreak in his eyes and I can feel him standing there, waiting for me to get up with them. So I move again, I stand up and I cry and someone has to pull me along as we leave. There is talking but I don't pay attention. All I can watch is Beth's head move from side to side each time Daryl takes a step. Bouncing when we go down a flight stairs, her bangs frame her face almost perfectly, except there's nothing perfect about this at all.

We get out in the parking lot and then I see Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, the others. They're coming, coming for us like they were supposed to, like they always do. Maggie is smiling. But once we're all outside and Maggie sees that Beth isn't walking on her own, when her smile falls and her face completely shifts... her screams shake the entire planet. Rattle it like a child's toy. And I'm here, crying because I don't know what to do, because Beth is unmoving, dead, gone.

Gone like she was never here in the first place.

They sat at the piano, like many days and nights before that, talking about sweet nothings and acting as if they hadn't a care in the world. The subject of hope came up and it was just another debate between them, even if it would later become one of Michael's most cherished memories.

"You gotta have hope," Beth said at one point.

"Why, though?" Michael asked. "You don't need it. I guess it helps, yeah, but. Sometimes it just leaves you upset when things don't work out the way you want it to."

Beth seemed to think about this for a moment. "I guess. But it gets you goin'-keeps you from stoppin' before you start. That way you don't shoot yourself in the foot."

Michael tilted his head a bit. Ran his fingers over the piano keys and let the candle light flames dance over his eyes.

"There's no guarantee, though. No unbreakable promise."

"But you don't know that-and that's the best part, I think. Hope ain't guaranteed, but people still choose to believe in it anyways, 'cause why carry on when you don't have anythin' to work for? The light at the end of the tunnel, the meal at the end of the day."

"Neither of those are guaranteed, either."

Beth smacked Michael on the arm.

"Would you stop bein' such a pessimist!"

Michael laughed.

"Alright, alright. I'm listening. No pessimism this time."

"I just... I don't know. If somethin' like that-somethin' that could pretty much fall apart at any time-can bring a bunch of strangers together to make places like this... do things like fight off a bunch of walkers and crazed killers and bandits... I think anythin's possible."

Michael looked at her then, watched her shiny blue eyes flicker around as she looked right back at him, and he decided that maybe she was right.

"Anything?" He asked.

A smile spread over Beth's lips.

"Anythin'."

"Raise a glass, 'cause I'm not done saying it,

they wanna get rough, get away with it,

let 'em talk 'cause we're dancing in this world alone,

world alone,

world alone.

All the double-edged people and schemes,

they make a mess then go home and get clean,

you're my best friend, so we're dancing in a world alone,

a world alone,

we're alone…"

END OF BOOK ONE

So… this is it. The end of A World Alone.

I am… I'm just beyond grateful for everyone's continued support throughout the past few months-hell, the past year. Sticking with me even when I took ages to update, kept changing my ideas and altering storylines, forgetting to proofread before uploading... regardless, I'm so, so, so thankful for each and every one of you. The reviews, the favorites, the follows. It means so much more than any of you might think, so thank you.

To those of you who may have been expecting a happy ending, a different ending to Beth's arc, I'm sorry. I toyed around with saving her briefly, but in the end her death was too important for it to not happen. If this makes you want to stop reading my work, I understand, but I truly hope you stay for the rest of Michael's story.

Chapter one of book two, Perfect Places, will be up soon, so keep an eye out for it. As always-see you on the flip side. Until next time!