A/N: This chapter just couldn't finish, and I couldn't divide it...so it's turned out a monster of words.
The poem at the beginning is the Hollow Men, of T.S. Elliot. One of my favorites.
XXI.
Alone, Beth searched through the first house she'd found in the community after Amanda had left her. Beth stayed behind, looking around trying to imagine the people who used to live in this house, trying to imagine how kind of people they had been, what kind of lives they had before the turn. Looking around the over-furnished but comfy interior she decided people here had been middle class American family, as she'd guessed from Noah's behavior, enjoying a life of an eccentric mix of modern and old all together, a broken LED TV on the walls as a blood covered typewrite sat on the table, it was not like a rundown cabin in the woods.
The thought came at her so sudden she couldn't realize it first, then grudgingly pressed it down. She wasn't going to think of rundown cabins. The house, though, now was only a mess, a disarray clutter of broken furniture, rotting dead bodies, mutilated body parts, everything covered with dust and blood. It was funny how everything still got covered with dust even at the end of the world. At the far corner there were broken shelves of the library on the floor and she went there to inspect it. Her eyes caught a book on the floor, a book littered with blood and dust like the house itself, its bound broken, loosely falling apart…but it was the title of the book that had captivated her interest.
Through the dust and blood, she read…The Hollow Men. She opened the book and saw it was a poem. She started reading it, dry pages withering between her fingertips.
We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men, leaning together, Headpiece filled with straw… she read the first stanza, the words striking a deep chord in her as her eyes prickling. The poem had written like a century or so ago but somehow still fit. Beth kept reading, and came to the end of stanzas… This is the way the world ends… this is the way the world ends… Not with a bang but a whimper.
This was the way the world ended… not with a bang but a whimper…
It really did suit her, though. Her world had ended while she slept. She'd gone to bed one night and when she'd woken up the next day, everything had changed. Perhaps for people like Amanda or Rick it'd ended with a bang, the napalm bombs and mayhem, and gunshots, but for her it'd been only a whimper, a soft shift in the darkness, something she hadn't even realized fully until they'd come to the farm, opened the barn's door and showed them the hard, cold face of the reality.
She wondered what kind of a mind would write such a poem, what kind of anguish and despair, and feeling of lost would make someone to put it in such a poetic way, rhymes falling like a waterfall of words, like unanswered prayer… For thine is the kingdom, For thine is, Life is… For thine is the…
Pain… she concluded, even though the poem didn't. She closed the book and stuffed it inside her backpack. She went through a little cabinet too and found an unopened bottles of scotches, and on a sudden whim, she put it inside the bag too.
She'd never drunk anything since her first time, and suddenly she found herself wishing for that state of lethargic happiness, the haziness of calm silence. That feeling was dangerous on the road, she knew, but maybe…maybe she could try it later… just a little bit. Michonne found her just after she'd place the bottle deep inside her bag, her katana in her hands, her face carefully scanning the house.
"Found anything?" she asked, giving Beth a look.
Beth shook her head. She hadn't found anything would be useful to Michonne. She wondered why she'd come to look for her, the older woman was having a talk with Rick when Beth had left them to look for the houses for a quick sweep; an agitated, frustrated talk. It'd been a while since Beth saw her like this, too, and it reminded her the times when she'd first come to the prison, like a wary wounded wild animal, distrust and suspect emitting off of her every pore, trusting no one. For a moment or so, she thought how far away Michonne had come from that woman now, how relaxed and protective she'd turned, breaking over her own depression, and Beth thought maybe it was still possible to find a balance, to break over that numbness inside her… She'd told Amanda that Michonne had had to deal with the same struggles too, so perhaps they were still hope; in the prison Michonne had managed to turn into her real self again more or less in time, the cloth she was made of. Beth knew she'd been looking for the Governor, but eventually the search had stopped.
And the Governor had found them.
Perhaps Daryl had been right. If they had—if they hadn't stopped looking for the Governor, maybe they wouldn't have needed to be here now. No, instead they'd chose to move on, chose to live like normal people supposed to do, forgetting about the monsters out there and this was how it turned out for them at the end.
She didn't know. Perhaps then even Daryl was right not wanting to take things further with her, even Michonne and Rick weren't on it, like Amanda had said, they were all friends. Maybe it was really the best option. They were trying to survive here, and emotions were complicating things. She frowned a little. But they'd tried that too, they had tried to be friends, and it hadn't worked for them. What was working for Michonne and Rick wasn't working for them, and she didn't know about that, either. She didn't know a thing about this world ending with a whimper, except that the monsters were out there, always, waiting to eat you up whole, waiting to devour you, and it wasn't only the walkers, either. No, walkers even weren't that bad.
Wolves not far… she recalled the scripts she had read over the walls, and looked around the mutilated bodies piled on each other, and wished she could have found them—she could find those sick son of bitches who had done this, who had killed Noah's family… and did them very bad things.
A scream erupted in the silence of the house, cutting off her thoughts with malice… She shared a look with Michonne, recognizing whom it belonged. "Noah!" Beth cried out, "It's Noah."
They ran out of the house into the street, Beth taking out her knife as Michonne raised her katana at ready in her hands. Rick and Amanda were running from the other side of the community, as well, hearing the scream. "It came from the back porch," Rick stated while he ran, pointing at their left side where twin houses were sat at the edge of walls, closing on in tree line.
Noah was taken cover under a fallen door, protecting himself from six walkers trying to crawl at him. "Save the bullets," Rick barked at Amanda as she started pulling out her gun, taking out his knife. Amanda followed his example, so did Beth.
Her somber thoughts were completely gone as the adrenalin rush coursed through her, her blood signing in her veins, drumming in her ears. Much like pain, the anticipation of a fight was pushing back the numbness, too, the feel of being alive…staying alive… to stay that way, to live for another day to fight. She felt her whole body was tingling with the feeling as she grabbed a walker coming at her and stabbed her knife into her brain.
Rick was blowing another's brain in two with his machete, brutal and precise like always. Michonne was catlike with her long blade, sleek and deadly with finesse. Amanda was coarse even in fighting, technical like it was all a muscle memory, an automatic reflex that she'd honed with practice over the years.
For Beth, it was what it'd always been, a struggle—fighting with everything she got to make it. She pushed the snarling teeth with a hand pressed on the rotted flesh, pulling back herself in the meanwhile, and shifted aside on quick feet, a trick Amanda had showed them, and stabbed another walker on the side directly into the brain.
When they'd managed with all the dead, they ran to Noah. Rick pushed the door off of him, and pulled back the younger man on his feet with a steady arm holding his for support. Noah was still limping, having trouble standing on his feet. "What happened?" Rick asked, resting Noah's back on the door for support.
Over the unshed tears, Noah shook his head. "We got attacked—" He shook his head again, "Tyreese…He's got bitten. I'm—I'm sorry."
Rick's face got hardened, even further, and he motioned at Beth with his head, "Stay with him," before he started walking in the house. Michonne and Amanda started following him.
"No, I'm coming," Beth objected. She didn't want to stay back, Noah could take care of himself, they were no walkers in the sight, and she had to see Tyreese. She got to.
Giving her a look over his shoulder, standing at the threshold, Rick looked like he was going to say something but the next moment, he stepped inside. Beth took his silence as confirmative, and followed him, too.
Quick but wary steps, they checked the house. They hadn't met with any of the dead, they were all put down, and they found Tyreese in one of the back rooms. And there he was, sat under a table, his arm bleeding, a big chunk of it bitten, and he was holding it as his blood was making a red pool around him.
So much blood… so red… He was almost out of conscious from pain and blood loss, she realized when she saw the glazed eyes, barely seeing them. There were two walker's unanimated bodies, one on the ground, the other over a swiveling chair. Beth understood that he'd fought them too with his bitten arm, reading the blood stains all over the place.
They ran to his side, Rick taking a hold of his arm to check the bite. Beth held his head, trying to hold his unfocused eyes on hers, remembering what she'd gone through in the elevator shaft. "Hey, Tyreese," she told the big man, "We're here, stay with us." But Tyreese was looking at the air behind her… She placed her hand on his cheek and turned the man to look at her, "Look at me."
Daryl had save her down there at the pit of dead bodies, he'd hold her—he'd made her look at his eyes, he had made her talk to him… she was going to do the same, she was not going to let Tyreese die now, not here.. not in this shithole full with rotten bloodies and wolves… she was not. "We're here," she told Tyrese again, her voice not wavering, decisive, "We got you."
"We have to cut it off," Rick roughed out agitated, and twisting aside barked at Michonne, still holding Tyreese's arm, "Michonne!" He pulled up on his feet, stretching the arm, "Hold on, Tyreese, hold on. We got this," Rick told the man the same, before turning toward them, "Amanda! Beth!" he cried at them, "Hold him tight. Don't let him move. Michonne."
There was only a moment of hesitance over Amanda's features, a dread she seldom let show off, then she shut it off, and moved closer to Tyreese quickly. Beth was already there, holding him. Michonne raised her blade as Amanda took a tight hold at his shoulders, a forceful bear hug. "It's okay… it's okay…" she whispered at Tyreese, in her mind the snapshots flashed… Michonne's blade fell on her father's throat, countless times, as Dr. Edwards cut off Joan's arms—
"It's gonna be okay," she whispered to the man again, remembering her mother… remembering her father… remembering Luke… remembering Zach… remembering Joan… remembering Tyreese telling Noah everything was going to be okay…
And the blade fell…
And there were screams in the air as she fought to keep the heavy body trashing with pain unmoving, Amanda trying to hold her own grip at the other side, too, Rick pulling back to the arm at the opposite…
And she had been wrong, it hadn't finished yet, the world was still ending, it was still ending everyday anew, not with a whimper, but always with screams.
# # #
"Hold tight—" Rick shifted the dead weight of Tyreese's body toward Noah at the other side to bring his free arm with the radio up as they started going out of the room and called in. "Daryl?" he rasped out, "We got a situation. Where are you?" he asked.
Beth lifted her head towards the windows. There was no sun in the sky to hazard a guess, but she fathomed it'd been more than an hour since the last time they'd checked out. "We're on the road, coming," Daryl's gruff voice came through the radio, "What happened?"
"Tyreese," Rick explained quickly, as quick as his feet, "He's got bitten. We cut off his arm."
"We're coming," Daryl only said, cutting off the connection.
"We need to cauterize the wound," Amanda said from Rick's side, "Now. He hasn't gotten much time left."
Three walkers were coming towards them. Michonne put two of them in a single shot, a long arc sweeping though the air, and taking a step toward her, Beth took out the last one.
There were whimpers on Tyreese's lips, unrecognizable as if he was talking to someone who wasn't there… Beth returned to his side, and looked at his eyes, holding them firmly, as they walked through the house, "Look at me. We're here, we're doing this. Stay with us."
"They—they say it's better now," Tyreese mumbled out, his eyes for a second losing the haze and becoming opaque.
Beth shook her head, understanding what that meant. She tightened the knot they'd made over his upper arm for a tourniquet. "Don't listen to them," she told him firmly, "Listen to me. Stay with me."
He couldn't die. He couldn't die… she couldn't loose anyone anymore. They'd already lost too much.
"It's wildness out there, Rick, how we will cauterize his arm?" Amanda asked, taking a step closer to Rick, "One of the houses must still have a working stove, we could use it."
"This place is full of walkers—" Rick said in return, pointing at the windows. The walkers were approaching toward the house. Beth counted more than eight at first glance. They were making so much noise, and the screams of Tyreese had brought the dead's attention to the house.
"She's got a point," Michonne said, "Tyrese can't make it on the road."
"Okay." Rick agreed stiffly, and mentioned at Noah, "Where's the kitchen?"
The kitchen was at the back of the house, cornered by the wall at both sides. Amanda stepped out of Rick's side as he ran in the kitchen to try the stove, and fell on the line next to Michonne just outside the door. "This's a dead-end," she bit, looking at the corridor, "If we got crowded, we're trapped here."
Amanda was right, but it didn't matter. They were going to save Tyreese, no matter what. Michonne shot at her a glance, "It was your idea."
Amanda shrugged, "Yeah…" as Rick barked out inside from the kitchen, "It's not working."
Beth let out a soft groan as Rick walked out from the kitchen. "Wait here—" she told them then, "I go with Amanda and try to find one still functional. Then you bring Tyreese."
Rick shook his head. "No. You stay. I go." Rick motioned at Amanda, "Come."
Amanda nodded, started following him, but before they could make a few steps from them—the walkers started pouring inside. Rick ran to barricade the open doors as much as stuff as they could find around the house— but it wasn't working, a small herd were crowding them.
"Take formation," Rick ordered, "Flank me, they can't pass us." Beth looked at the upcoming limping walkers and she knew Rick was just trying boost up their morale.
They held the formation more than three minutes, but at the end it got broken as a new wave of walkers added to the already growing numbers inside the house. A walker passed behind Amanda and almost bit her in the neck just before Beth nailed the dead with her knife.
Even with no time for a thank you, Amanda shifted aside to kill the one at her other side. If there wasn't a limping Noah and barely conscious Tyreese with them, they would have made a run for it, and they could even make out, covering each other's back in a tight formation, but with Noah and Tyreese's current conditions it wasn't possible.
For a second, Beth wondered if Amanda would mention it, because ever the realistic one, Beth knew she was thinking of it, but she kept her mouth shut, her eyes hardened but determined. She wasn't going to abandon them.
It…felt good, knowing that Beth wasn't wrong about her, even after what had happened between them, but her good feeling was short-lived as the formation broke further as another three walker passed through them. Rick and Amanda finally took out their guns and started shooting the upcoming invaders as Michonne swept her blade—
But they were too much, just too much, and the floor beneath them was filling with dead bodies of the fallen walkers, a scene reminding her of the bottom of the elevator shaft.
Funny, it was kind of funny if her life ended up like this… maybe… it was her destiny…
Her feet stumbled on a foot of one of the bodies down there and she started falling… Amanda tried to take a grab of her, but another walker attacked at the older woman at the same moment—her hands turning towards it.
Down from where she sprawled out over the dead body, Beth looked up at the snarling walker coming at her—holding on her knife tighter and made a move to stand up.
She was not going down, not yet, realizing despite everything, she still wanted to live.
A bitter, sardonic smile broke out over her lips, she always understood how much she wanted to live just when she was about to die.
She started rising, but before she pulled back up on her feet, a bolt wheezed in the air, and hit at the brain of the walking dead in front of her, a green bolt she could recognize from everywhere, and the dead falling beneath her feet, she looked at up at the door, to see a Daryl Dixon standing at the threshold, his crossbow raised up on his shoulder, his eyes heated.
It was one of the best sights Beth had ever witnessed.
# # #
They'd taken the refuge out in the forest a mile away from the Shirewilt Estate, a clearing Daryl had found, screening the perimeters first before they'd settled a sort of a camp. It wasn't much—before leaving they could have only made one supply run, but as of the moment, it was going to have to be fine.
Daryl had gone to hunting. Outside the house, Beth had thanked him quickly for saving her, and he'd half nodded, half nodded with that noncommittal gruff, but they hadn't talked further. His eyes had followed her through the day, though, quick little glances as if to make sure she was okay, but Beth had decided to ignore them. Not out of spitefulness or anything, but he was dealing with it on his own way, Beth wasn't trivial, not like she'd thought, and he'd cared for her more in the ways more than he was supposed to, as of the moment it felt…enough.
It felt…good.
They were going to be okay. They had to.
She looked at Sasha, who sat at Tyreese's other side on the ground. The older woman looked like she was at the edge of a cliff, too, barely standing—not falling off. She passed his hand through Tyreese's forehead. "It's okay," she told the man softly, but firmly. Sasha looked at her wordlessly, Beth continued, "We're going to be okay. You gotta know that."
She lifted her head up, and her eyes met with Daryl's as he returned from the hunt, his hands holding a string of squirrels over his shoulder, heavy eyes looking at her.
She looked at him for half of a second, and gave him the smallest of a smile, tired but calm before she turned her head away to look ahead at the forest.
She felt like she'd made a wish, and started counting from infinity.
She stood up from Tyreese's side and started walking out a bit away from the camp. It was still in the sight, so she supposed it was still safe. She'd seen a bush of berries and Carol and Amanda had been picking them up earlier. They hadn't eaten anything since yesterday night—aside a few crackers Carl had given to her, and the day was finishing, the last daylight was slowly fading under the darkening sky.
She started picking the berries into a cloth, vaguely aware that she'd wrapped Darlys' over her forearm. A myriad of emotions came at her remembering what she'd done—and she touched at her forearm, and wincing with the contact, embarrassed and…confused. Embarrassed because it felt to her so broken…and she had done—had hurt herself knowingly, and confused that even now…even embarrassed a part of her still wanted to take her scissor and cut another slash on her skin, waiting the pain hit her, dulling everything else, her blood signing with it, feeling alive.
She felt crying—her eyes were hurting, pricking inside her eyeballs, but no tears fell. She saw a piece of redness was sticking out of her sleeve as she picked up berries, showing off the red piece, and she pushed her cardigan down further over her wrist quickly, agitated so no one would see it.
Amanda found her at the bush a minute later, and started picking up berries as well. She didn't talk though, only took berries inside another cloth she'd had found. She looked calmer, too, somber. "Today… in the kitchen, did you think of leaving Tyreese?" Beth asked then, looking ahead.
"Of course," Amanda answered without hesitation, "Like each of you," she continued, "If Daryl and the rest of group hadn't come, we were doomed there. Without Tyreese, we could have a chance, and how much of a chance he had anyways?"
Beth frowned a little, "He's still breathing," she reminded her firmly. He was going to be okay, she told herself determinately.
"For now," Amanda said, her voice as plain as ever, "He's still not out of the woods, Beth."
"Then why you didn't?"
Amanda let out a sigh. "I—the world I knew was always sick, Beth, I'm a cop, I know a few things about human depravity, but it's become even sicker. I can't be alone. I don't want to. I want to stay…be a part of this, I can't do this alone. The girls are still my responsibility. I gotta protect them, too. Can't do it alone, either," she slowly said, "And Rick told me if I want to be a part of this, I need to be a part of this, a part of you." The older woman looked at her, "So…here I am…trying…you know...different, being a part of something…" She snorted, "Friends."
Beth smiled, again tired and calm. It was a harsh world, and no one could do it alone. They needed to be a part of something. Otherwise, they were just…drifting away. They all needed each other. Because a time would come, maybe this moment, and it'd have been Amanda who needed them to haul her ass back to safety while trying to stay alive. "Amanda-" she said then, "About what I did—"
"It's okay, I got it. You were hurt, and I was an easy target."
Beth frowned at the way she brushed it off. "I—it isn't that easy—"
"It's what it's," Amanda said, shrugging with indifference, "We don't have the luxury of stay mad forever over stuff like this. Rick tried to choke just two days ago, and I want to be in his circle now. We gotta make peace, and move on." She pursed her lips, "You can stay still mad, if you want, a bit. I'm still not over it myself either, not that much. But we are talking."
Beth gave her a look, ignoring what the last words meant. "What's happening between you two?" Because obviously something was happening, Beth only wasn't sure what.
Amanda let out a sigh. "Frankly, I haven't got any slightest idea." She paused, "Sometimes... He just makes me…so angry…being always right." She pause again, a look entering into her eyes, and smiled, "Either I'll kick his ass someday or I'll fuck him senseless. I don't know. I haven't decided yet."
Beth stared at her open mouthed. Amanda laughed out. "Beth, I can't be Rick's friend." She shook her head, popping a berry into her mouth, "That's not me." Beth opened her mouth, "And you're gonna talk to Maggie."
She closed her mouth, her lips pressing into a thin line. "No."
"Yes," Amanda said in returned firmly, "Likewise my belief in humankind, my forgiveness doesn't come free. There is always a price, and you owe me one." She gave her a look, "I want this. You're gonna talk to her, hear what she will say, will her excuses, her justifications, like I did yours, then you will decide on what kind of relationship you still want to have with her. But this whole 'you're death to me' business ends now."
Beth glared at her. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll just listen."
She nodded, "You do that. It's your decision what to do next. But remember, we don' have the luxury of staying mad at each other forever," she repeated.
Beth smiled at her after that. "Deep inside, you've really got a soft heart, Amanda."
She snorted, "You tell me!" She shook her head, letting out a sigh, "I'm half convinced that instead of trying for Washington we should go and find those sick bastards who did that first—" she mumbled out, "Make them pay."
Her smile turned to a slight frown. "Do you know where they're?"
"Somewhere in the forest… They have to be somewhere out here… they were like wild animals, butchering. Don't have guns. Guns…are sophisticated, you know…civilized. These people aren't. I can't explain, Beth. It's a hunch, and I'm a cop. I don't know, but they're out in the woods. I just know it."
Beth's frown became tighter, remembering the Governor. "Then it's not a should, Amanda," she said, "We must find them."
# # #
Daryl watched Beth as she walked away from Tyreese's side and went to pick up berries as he sat down straddling a tree trunk to clean the squirrels for the dinner.
She was going to be death of him, but this time Daryl got nobody but himself to blame. Though, he was both right and wrong at the same time. He'd thought a trip outside would have gone smooth for once, and he was wrong, it of course hadn't; they had almost lost Tyreese, but he'd been right, there was a light in her eyes again, faint as it was but it was there…the light she'd been missing since the time they had spoken, then she smiled at him, again faint, barely there, a little twitch of lips, but he felt something as heavy as mountain and as big as oceans had lifted off of him seeing it.
We're going to be okay…
We're going to be okay, you gotta know that, he recalled her words to Tyreese, her voice full with her conviction. They were going to be okay. He gutted the first squirrel, containing a sigh inside. Daryl wanted to believe that, because he didn't know what else he would do if he didn't, what he would have done if he saw her like a walking dead just one day more, knowing that he was exactly the reason.
Tyreese was getting better, too, his arm sealed off and wrapped, lying down in the ground. Sasha was next to him with Beth, nursing him back to health, holding his hand, talking softly to him, telling him it was going to be okay. Beth had never left the man's side for a moment after they'd cauterized the wound and ran off the freak show of the town with the cars, told him to listen to her, told him that they were all going to be okay.
Daryl looked at around, at his people. They were alive, but barely keeping up, even Amanda looked simmered down after what had happened at Noah's home town, her brash, challenging exterior left itself to a sullenness he'd only seen her with after what happened between her and Rick.
The horrors of being out here were catching up with her too, like each of them. His eyes returned to Beth again from the squirrel, he couldn't help himself and saw her as she touched at forearm and even from afar he could tell there was a pinched expression over her face, as if she was hurt.
A dread gripped at him, making his heart beat faster. No one had told him anything, if she got a wound or something in the fight, but he didn't like that expression over her face. He'd passed a whole night watching her face for every little expression while in the clinic, so he knew she was hurt. Then he saw it, a redness under his cardigan, slightly visible off from sleeve, and he recognized it. It was his piece of cloth, the cloth that he'd left with her. She'd wrapped it over her wrist. Then she pulled her cardigan over her wrist in such a flustered manner, he almost got up and went to ask her what was wrong.
Because he just knew… something was wrong.
He dropped the knife on the trunk, made a move—but then stopped. He couldn't. He just couldn't go and check her just because he saw something under her cardigan. It was insane. He had to keep off his distance, gave her the space need to work it out. She had just began to get better, a talk with him would just reverse all things back. He had no rights. He had no rights whatsoever to check on her.
He gutted the second squirrel so brutally, Carol shot at her a look, which he ignored, continuing his work. That bitterness was seizing inside him, turning to anger—he was still the one who had come to her help when everyone had written her off as dead. He still got rights. He needed to know she was okay, she wasn't hurt, she wasn't…bitten.
Yet, his feet stayed planted where he was, his hands keeping with gutting the squirrels. She couldn't be bitten, that much he knew at least. Beth would never try to hide something like this from them. She possibly got a wound or something in the town but trying people not to fuss over it. She was okay.
She had to be.
In the evening, Rick walked to him, holding a bottle of water after he finished a half of squirrel. Daryl shook his head. He'd an inkling of they would need it more for later. He'd been out hunting there for two hours but couldn't see any creek or anything the whole time. The weather was unparticularly dry for the season, too; the only rain in a three weeks that had been that time after the church got overrun. It seemed global warming hadn't still stopped even at the end of the world.
"About going to Washington," Rick said, taking back the bottle, and asked, "What do you think?"
Daryl shrugged. "We gotta go somewhere," Daryl answered, "We can't stay in the woods in the winter. Shit's getting' worse."
And he wasn't only talking about the weather. The first winter had been like hell, but Daryl knew they could never make it out like that again, not in the ways things had become. The world out there belonged to the dead now, not to them, with each death tolls were getting higher, and became harder and runs were getting less fruitless, so was hunting. With each run, they came back with foods less than the before, and with each his hunting trips he saw more animal falling victim to the dead. They needed a place to hole up and started rising some grains again.
Solemnly, Rick nodded. "What's it?" Daryl asked then, because there was something with Rick's look that telling him that there was something else, something he couldn't decide.
Rick breathed out gruffly. "Amanda says wandering around hoping to come up with a place wouldn't do any good to us," Rick explained, "She's got a point. The cars almost run out of the gas. If we don't find any vehicles on the road, it means we're walking. It'd take almost two weeks to get Washington on feet, and we don't know a thing about how things are there."
Daryl thought about what he'd said, and admitted, "Yeah… But what else we got to do?"
That was the bottom line as well. "The wolves…" Rick then said, gesturing at his behind, at the direction of the town, "They gotta be somewhere around here, somewhere in the woods. The bodies—they got no gunshots. They were only butchered. They mustn't have guns. If we find them, we can kill them. We can take their supplies. Perhaps we can even pass the winter at their camp, too," Rick laid out the plan and he began to see the reason, too, but… it was still too risky, even for Amanda Shepherd's standards, then Rick said, "They really want to find them, I think, not only because of supplies, either."
Daryl gave the man a hard look, but he knew the answer even before he asked, "They?"
Rick nodded, "Yeah. Beth wants it, too."
# # #
At night, Beth and Shepherd stood in the middle of the circle they'd formed, lying their case to a highly unconvinced audience.
"Look—" Beth said, traveling her eyes at them, "I know how it sounds…"
"Monkey nuts insane-?" Abraham asked, cutting her off.
"The technical term, I believe, is preemptive," Shepherd shot back coolly.
"Do you really want us to look for them?" Glenn asked with disbelief.
"The last time we let Governor go, we didn't look for him, and he came back and took us our home. He killed us," Beth answered, trying to stay firm, but her voice wavered at the last part. She paused before she continued, letting a small breath, "What if we find a place on the road, we settle down and those wolves come up on us in a sudden attack?"
"We protect ourselves when they did," Rick said in return, his voice curt with the mention of that sonofabitch, emphasis clear on the "when".
"Like we did with the Governor?" Beth bit off the words.
Rick's face hardened, Daryl grew tenser as the other man opened his mouth, but Shepherd, as if sensing the tense moment, moved in, "They butchered them down like animals, Rick," she said, looking at him directly in the eyes, "You saw it, too." With the corner of his eyes, Daryl saw Beth's hand crept over her forearm, and she gave a little push on her skin, and there he was…a slight wince across her brows, he saw it. Danger bells started ringing in his mind, clear and alerting, something was definitely wrong with her, "You all saw it. And we can stop it. They don't have guns, we do," she went on, moving the case on a more logical, practical stand, "And if we strike preemptively, we'll have the element of surprise, too."
"How are we going to find them?" Rosita asked with the same practicality," Do we know their base?"
Amanda shot up a look at Daryl, "We got a tracker. We can track their trials in the woods."
"But how do you know they're in the woods?"
Shepherd shook her head frustrated, looking at Rick, almost imploring at him to back her with her eyes. Because she knew at the end they were all going to do what he said… "She's got a hunch…" Rick said looking back at her, and Shepherd's imploring look turned into a glare.
"It's all the same," Rick said then standing up, and walked over to them, "We go to Washington, we go look for them… It's all the same. We got nothing, but only hunches now. Atlanta was in deep shit. Maybe Washington is different, we don't know. Maybe we can find those sick bastards in the woods maybe not, we don't know. It's all a bet. But I brought you here, and I will find us a home one way or another."
# # #
At the end, he decided to do both. Amanda thought it was the best deal she could get, and Rick had supported her in a way, too, so she guessed it was okay. Though, she could at least return the favor. She placed berries they'd picked with Beth in her palm and brought them to him. She knew he hadn't eaten anything in the evening, too, but gave his own ration from the squirrels to her girls, in two days Whitney had lost more than four pounds, she looked like someone had stringed her, and she had been already too thin, withering, and Amanda really couldn't decide what to do Rick Grimes when he acted like this. It could've been so much easier if she just…hated him.
He'd taken the first night watch outside their perimeters, a few meters away from the camp. She walked to him as Rick watched her approaching him wary eyes.
She stood in front of him, and opened her palm to show him the berries, "I came bearing gifts."
Rick lifted his head up at her, and gave her a look together with a faint smile, "So did the Greeks."
She gave a half eye roll at that, "So do I—" she said back. He raised his hand and opened his palm. She poured the berries in, and sat beside him at the dirt.
"You backed me up there, thank you," she said, trying to be as simple as possible, even though words came to her strange. She barely thanked anyone, not only because she didn't like it—being grateful meant that you owed that person, and someday they could ask a refund on that, but also because she didn't get many occasion she needed to thank anyone for anything.
Rick nodded, and took a berry and popped into his mouth, "You had a point."
She shrugged, she usually did. "I talked to Beth, too," she went on, "She'll talk with Maggie."
That surprised him, "She will?" he asked.
"Yeah, I told her just to listen to Maggie's side of the story then she can decide whatever she wants to do."
"How?" Rick asked.
"Well, basically I guilt-tripped her," she answered. "She threw me off out in front you, and I forgave her." She smiled, "She owed me one. She needs to make her peace with what happened with her sister, and move on." She paused, and flashed the smile she knew he hated, "We don't have the luxury of keeping grudges forever anymore, you know." She sighed, and stole a berry from his palm and threw it in her mouth. "I wasn't smiling at you, Rick…" she said, then, "I was smiling at the irony."
"I know you don't trust easily, Amanda," Rick said, "and I—I hurt your trust." His eyes found her throat, where the marks of his fingers were still visible, even though they'd started fading, "I shouldn't have done it."
"It's okay," she brushed off his unsaid apology, and smiled, adding a daring edge in it, because in times like these she really couldn't decide… but she could always test the waters a bit further…"You're not the first man who did it." And she watched him as he tried to turn the statement over his mind, trying to read between the lines, she twisted up her lips further, helping him to get what she had meant, and stole another berry from him, "I even asked for it." She popped the berry into her mouth, staring at him.
His face closed off, and she smiled even further, and laughed, standing up, "I'm neither Beth nor Michonne, Rick," she told him as placid as ever.
He lifted his eyes up at her, "What are you then?" he asked low in his throat, and she sensed a challenge in the rasping words, and his darkened eyes passed a surge through her, and right then right in that moment Amanda really wanted him to grab her at the throat again—and fuck her senseless.
She looked at him, as he looked back at her in challenge and he was waiting, she knew, he waiting to see what she would do… what she would dare… And she couldn't seem do anything but stare at him, her legs planted where she stood, feeling torn, an arousal twisting, pulsing in her core, her mouth dry.
He stood up, throwing off the berries in his hand and walked in on her, "Well?" he asked, demanding an answer. Her heart galloped in chest and involuntarily she took a step back, but got cornered, her back hitting the tree behind her, and she couldn't understand why she was backing down. "Don't start something you can't finish, Amanda," he told her, his eyes heavy on her lips, and he leaned on in her further, his lips almost brushing over hers, "And stop testing me," he whispered at her in a hiss before his mouth covered hers, and he bit her.
She yelped, and trembled—and held on him as his teeth sunk into her lips. It only lasted for two seconds then he pulled back, a faint redness over his lips. A thin line of blood followed through the corner of her mouth. "You bit me," she whispered out, almost in shock.
"I'm sure I'm not the first man who did it, either," he shot back and sat down again at the ground, ignoring her.
She glared at him as he kept looking ahead the woods, her arousal throbbing in her core. And really, she still couldn't decide if she should kick his ass or beg him to…bite her again.
At the end, she settled with storming off away.
# # #
As Amanda walked toward the perimeters, berries in her hand, Beth stood up and went to find Maggie. That was the price, and Beth knew Amanda was right, they didn't have the luxury of being mad at each other forever. She didn't know how she could forgive Maggie, but if Amanda would forgive her throwing her off in front of Rick, then Beth would try too.
She also knew Maggie didn't mean to hurt her, not really, but she just couldn't forgive she didn't care—or perhaps she just cared Glenn more than her, and that was what was being in love?
She cared so much for Daryl, too, but it'd been between her and Daryl, she wouldn't have chosen, she would have tried to save both…
Her steps faltered… would have really? The answer scared her so deeply, her fingers found her arm again, pushing—waiting for the pain, then she pushed her hand back—as if the contact burned her.
She needed to stop doing this. She really needed to.
She took a step back, looking around, but couldn't find Maggie. She found Glenn instead. She stopped in front of him. "Where is Maggie?" she asked.
Glenn gave her a searching look, "She—she's got the other watch," he answered, then called, "Beth…please… she—"
She shook her head. "It's okay, Glenn. I'm just gonna talk to her."
She turned and started walking toward outside the perimeters, but before she could have left the camp, suddenly Daryl was in front of her.
She halted on her steps, looking at him in shock, because he'd avoiding her whole day, watching her from away. His eyes were on her all day, and Beth had tried to ignore his look all day, too, and now he was looking at with heated eyes again, agitated…and mad…?
He walked to her, "Show me your left arm," he demanded in a rasp.
Her heart started beating madly. "What?" she whispered out.
"Show me your damn arm!" He tried to catch her left arm, but she pulled it back—hid it at her back.
He knew. She didn't know how, but Beth knew he knew. She took a step back, running away from him, but he grabbed her. He clawed at her back, reaching out to her arm.
Beth tried to push him off of her. "No, Daryl, stop," she fought him as he moved at her once again, "Let me go."
"Stop." Daryl bit at her too, and grabbed her forearm tightly. She winced at the contact, and cursed at herself as Daryl's expression grew sterner. She stopped fighting. "Don't, please," she only said.
Without listening to her, wordlessly, he yanked the cardigan over her elbow, revealing the red cloth, and started unwrapping it. She turned her head aside, because she didn't want to see what was going to happen the next, and looked ahead the dark forest, tears inside—her eyes pricking.
First she felt the cold night air at her skin—licking over slashed skin. Preparing herself, she turned and looked at him. She had nowhere to run now.
He dropped her arm, looking at her hard, his blue eyes darkened so much they looked like black. Then with a wordless grunt out of his depths, he twisted aside and hit at the tree beside her, hard.
Her eyes widened, she stared at him, as he kept hitting at the tree.
A/N: So much stuff happened, right? Told you, I just didn't know how to divide it... Hope you didn't mind.
And, Tyreese lives, because I really wanted to show how Beth being alive could have changed things...if memory serves me right, there was a line saying if Beth was alive, maybe it wouldn't happen, domino effect, or something like that... can't remember it really, but that was my inspiration. I also don't want to repeat the canon events all the way, because it's a bit boring, and much harder to do. (Tried it with my other story, it's really harder)
So, the next Beth and Daryl will finally have a REAL talk! Thank god.
Hope you're still staying with me. When no one reviewed the last chapter, I grew a bit worried, but we'll see. Either way, I'm still enjoying myself, so... hope you're too.