I had to break this one up into two chapters. Only the next chapter isn't finished yet but I wanted to get something posted. Sorry for the delay. I'm trying. ;) Thanks for reading!
The song Tracks In The Snow by Civil Wars is really good, btw.
Just before Beth was about to barge through the door, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, yanking her back. A large hand muzzled her mouth, stifling the yelp before it had a chance to escape. Immediately she began to fight them off. Kicking backward, pulling at the hand clasped over her mouth. Desperately flailing to get away from whoever's hold.
"Shh, shh, shh," he whispered in her ear, pulling her away from the building and into the space between it and a line of trees and brush. "It's me."
The hand released her and she spun around, ready to pounce. Or run. Neither was necessary.
"What the hell you think you doin'?" Daryl asked, whispering earnestly. Keeping Beth held up at Merle's was wrong. Leaving her to fight this battle on her own seemed even more wrong.
Daryl fought off the panic that surged when he initially found Beth to be missing. He forced his mind to clear, to focus on what needed to be done. All he could come up with was going to the compound, demanding his way in and tearing the place apart until he found her. Plain and simple.
Leaving Merle's, he, Michonne and Rick took the short ride to the Sanctuary. Parking in a thicket of trees off the road, they then snuck past the gates and into the compound. Splitting up, they kept to the shadows. It was eerily quiet, he didn't notice anyone keeping guard. When he spotted Beth he almost forgot to check the surrounding area before sneaking up behind her.
She took a step back away from him. Andrea apparently didn't hold him off very long. "I can ask you the same thing," she sassed in a whisper. Unsure how she felt, she was angry, at the same time she was relieved he was there.
'Nu-uh. You don't get to do that. You took off. Don't you get how dangerous coming here is?"
"Don't I know?" She asked, dumbstruck. "Do you forget who you're talkin' to? I know this is dangerous! I've lived in the last five years."
"Why are you here then? To prove something?"
The temporary bravado she held began to fade, her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her feet. Ashamed. Ashamed for not thinking this through. Ashamed for leaving Daryl the way she did after he had done so much for her.
"I don't know," she mumbled. Rising her eyes to his, they were as uncertain as hers. "But I'm here now and I'm not running away again. I have to confront him."
"Let me come with you," Daryl said, placing a tentative hand on her hip, fingers curling inward, pulling her to him.
"I started this. If it weren't for me you wouldn't be chasing me back to this hellhole. If it weren't for me Sherry might not be here. Dwight too. If it weren't for me I wouldn't be here. I need to face him."
"I get why you think you have to do this alone." Swallowing his pride, he continued his plea, "But I just found you. I can't risk losing you."
Beth shook her head, tears burning her eyes. "Trust me. You gotta' trust me."
Daryl laid his brow affectionately to hers, quiet for seconds that felt like an eternity. "Okay, but you gotta promise to come back to me."
As was their way, Beth didn't vocally promise to come back to him. Instead, she nodded, closed her eyes tightly because she could not bear to see the disparaging sadness in his eyes, knowing she'd been the one to put it there. Hating herself, she backed away from him.
"I'm in the business of saving souls," Negan was saying when she entered.
The further into the room she moved, the more people noticed her. A few gasps sounded from the people, quiet rumblings. She didn't know what he'd told them about her going missing. Whatever it was, she was sure it was a shock for them to see her there.
"No, Negan. You're in the business of controlling people." It took her a long time to realize that. She hoped there was more to it than that, she eventually came to the realization there wasn't. He only wanted to use people.
Negan abruptly ceased the line of bullshit he was spewing, his mouth hanging open a second or two before shutting with an audible snap. His eyes bulged, the vein in his forehead protruded. Seeing the look of shock on Negan's face was almost payback for the years she wasted here under his dictatorship.
Simon took a step forward, Negan recovered quickly and waved him away. Simon stood down, watching, waiting for a sign from Negan that he should intervene.
"Well, if it ain't Angel, raised from the dead."
She stopped a few feet from him, well out of arm's reach. She was taking a big chance. At Negan's direction, more than a few of the Savior's would do whatever he commanded of them.
Simon. Arat. Joey. And who knew who else, they were all so far gone just as she was.
"Is that what you told them? That I was dead?" She was surprised at the calm coolness of her own voice.
Dwight wasn't in his normal spot near the front with Negan and Simon. Scanning the crowd she found Sherry. She sat to the right, a few rows back from the front. She was slouched over, leaning against the wall her chair sat next to. She didn't look well. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, a fading bruise marred the side of her jaw. She appeared to have lost weight, her clothes hanging loosely from her thin body. Tears gleamed in her eyes as she looked at Beth with disbelief.
Negan didn't answer her question directly. She didn't expect him to. "I think the Savior's deserve to know that their sister has been living in sin with the town's sheriff, the very one that was snooping around here with his defunct entourage. And now look at you, you're a little lost wayward sheep come back for forgiveness."
Beth snorted out an incredulous snort of a laugh. "You wish, Negan. To want forgiveness from you means I'd have to actually give a fuck what you think. And, newsflash, I don't care what you think. I ran from you.
"You didn't have to go to such dramatic lengths. You could have left if you wanted." Negan said trying to save face in front of his people.
"Oh, are you saying I had a choice? Because just about everyone," she gestured to the group, "knows there are no choices here." Whether they wanted to admit it or not she spoke the truth.
Negan spoke with a dismissive tone. "Who do you think these good people are gonna believe? Me? Their devoted leader who only has their best interests at heart, the man who is protecting them from the likes of you, the man that is going to deliver them single-handedly into heaven." Negan looked at Beth from her dusty boots to her ponytailed hair. "Or you? No one is going to believe a downtrodden Mary Magdalene such as yourself. Are you all paying attention?" He asked the people who were at this point staring in shock. "Do you see how slippery Satan is? Sending one of our very own back here to spread lies."
He then addressed Beth again. "Anyone is free to go at any time. Including you."
"Is that right? You'll just let me walk out of here? You won't care if I take Sherry with me?" She questioned as she went to her friend. Sherry was a shell of herself. If Beth felt guilty before for leaving her, that was just a snippet of what she felt now. She bent at the waist, looking into Sherry's bloodshot eyes.
She whispered, "Angel?"
"Come on, we're leaving," she told Sherry, grasping her by the upper arm and gently pulling her to her feet.
Sherry shook her head. "No. We can't go without Dwight." Beth figured she'd feel that way and she didn't blame her. Sherry began to cry. "They did something to him. I don't know where he is."
"It's okay, we'll find him." She turned back to Negan. "Where is Dwight?"
"Dwight? Dwight who?" Negan asked, not fooling her, or anyone else probably, with his feigned innocence in Dwight's absence.
She knew she couldn't let Negan get under her skin so she turned back to Sherry. "Come on. We'll find him but you gotta come with me first." Beth pulled her to her feet. She was like putty. Her legs were weak. She could hardly stand on her own.
Beth didn't see Negan, so much as felt his presence directly behind her. She had put herself in an incredibly vulnerable position. Did she really think Negan would let her take Sherry and go on their merry way?
"Oh no, missy. I don't think you'll be going anywhere."
Daryl wasn't going to let Beth go into that building. He had ever intention of stopping her. It took every fiber in his being to release her, to let her go. Giving her one last kiss, she slipped from his grasp. He'd wait for her to return but he wasn't moving from his hiding spot between the building and the trees.
He waited. He watched. For Beth. For one of Negan's henchmen, anyone that might pose a threat. He also wondered where Michonne or Rick went. He didn't dare radio them.
The minutes ticked by and he was at the edge of his patience, contemplating going after Beth when something half covered by a black tarp showing through the scratchy branches of the trees caught his eye.
It was a car, only halfway covered by the tarp over the trunk and part of the body. It was dirty. Old. The bumper, he noticed, was hanging by two bolts on one side, the other side dangled freely where it was damaged and dented.
Daryl was quickly learning nothing ever just happened. Everything was tethered to the next thing. Things that seemed to have no rhyme or rhythm or reason were connected by a thin veil of fortuitousness.
No, he didn't believe in chance any longer. He took out his phone, snapped a picture of the car and its bumper and license plate. Sliding the phone back into his coat pocket he was brought still by the cold steel of the barrel of a gun to the back of his neck.
"Don't move," a voice sounded through the frosty air. More of a whine really. A request.
Daryl froze. Automatically his hands went up.
"Turn 'round slowly," the voice directed.
The man holding a double-barrel shotgun was short and squat, dressed in a dirty flannel and saggy jeans under his protruding stomach.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
Daryl didn't miss the uncertain wobble in this guy's voice. "Hey, I ain't here to cause trouble," he lied. His presence alone caused trouble. "I just want to help a friend. That's all."
"Then why are you snooping around?"
"I'm not snooping. Just waiting." He stalled.
"Let me have your weapon," the man said, reaching for Daryl's Colt. As he was reaching for the gun in his holster, the man made a stupid error. He lowered his own weapon. Acting like he was handing over his gun, Daryl snaked his free hand out and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and twisted, yanking it from his hands. Using the butt of the gun, Daryl clipped the man's chin. The man came after him with more force than expected, sending Daryl falling back onto the tarped car.
Beth couldn't say she was surprised when Negan grabbed her by the collar, but if she couldn't get Sherry to go with her, which she couldn't - not in the state of mind she was in and not without Dwight - getting Negan away from Sherry was second best. In the meantime maybe Daryl could help Sherry someway. Somehow.
He was twice her size and it didn't take him much to physically push her around. He pulled her away from Sherry.
"What? I thought we could leave anytime we want," she asked.
"Would you shut your ever-lovin' mouth?" He mumbled to her. Teeth clenched through a strained smile. "Simon, take care of things here while I have a word with Angel."
They shuffled around until he had her by the waist dragging her out of the main hall. She wasn't scared for herself, but it broke her heart to see Sherry sobbing, crumpled on the floor. Simon looming over her.
Negan dragged her, kicking and punching, through the kitchen and out the side door, heading to his cabin. Daryl and Michonne and Rick were nowhere to be seen. Panic surged. They had guards that patrolled the grounds. If they were hurt because of her she almost hoped Negan would end her.
As Negan continued to drag/carry/push Beth, something sparked in her memory of a television show she watched long ago. It was a grainy video surveillance clip from a grocery store camera. In it, a man was trying to kidnap a child. The child's mother, no bigger than Beth herself, grabbed hold of her child and pulled down with all her weight, allowing gravity to aid in pulling the would-be kidnapper and the child down to the ground. She was able to get the child away from him when they fell to the ground.
With Negan carrying her around her waist, she lifted her feet and pulled down with her weight. Sure enough, Negan began to struggle. She wrapped her legs backward around his, tripping him and sending them toppling to the ground.
Beth scrambled to her feet and ran into the pines lining the compound. She slowed, making sure Negan got to his feet and continued pursuing her, doing exactly what she wanted him to do - and that was getting him as far from the Sanctuary as possible.
She ran until her lungs burned and then continued to run. He was gaining on her and just as he was within reach, he grabbed her by her long ponytail, throwing her to the ground. She fell down a small hill, hitting her head along the way, banging her elbow. Cold hard-packed snow sliced at the skin of her hands.
Blood tasted in her mouth where she bit down hard on her cheek when her jaw hit the ground. Head pounding, body hurting, pain was everywhere, but she hardly noticed. Her vision wavered. Blinking rapidly, she saw she was back at the cemetery. Momentarily confused as a wave of dé jà vu washed over her. She felt outside of herself, her past reverberated with her present. Two worlds colliding but not mixing. Like oil and water.
Negan stood over her, the morning sun behind him giving him an ominous glow. He too was panting and out of breath. That didn't stop him from lecturing.
"This is the problem with women. They never know when to shut up," he droned. "Never know when to just mind their own business."
Ears ringing, his voice echoed in every direction, vibrating painfully in her head. He snatched her up again by her hair, forcing her to her wobbly feet. He began dragging her through the cemetery. She was exhausted, wanting to fade away, to give in. She felt she was slipping away, back into being that unknown girl.
They rounded the cemetery and through a grove of trees, there, in their shadows, was a small crumbling church. It's whitewashed siding, grey and peeling. Most of the windows were blocked out by sheets of plywood. It was a wonder it was still standing as it leaned precariously to the left.
"Women are only good for two things. Fuckin' and having babies. Some need some direction. Someone to show them the right way. Some are apparently harder to train. I thought you were one of the easy ones."
In the peripheral of her mind, she took satisfaction in knowing she was no longer one of the easy ones. Knowing that gave her a tiny bit of strength. She didn't come this far to give in and give up. She had no idea what he had in mind, she for damn sure wasn't going to make whatever it was easy on him.
She dug her feet along, the heels of her boots digging into the ground. He stomped up the steps of the church and kicked open the door that was hanging loosely by the hinges. He tossed her inside like she was nothing more than a duffle bag.
The church was dank and dark, smelling stale after years of being closed up. Sunlight pinched through the boarded-up windows. The pews faced the front of the church. A pulpit was knocked over on its side. The stained glass window behind it somehow managed to withstand the years of neglect and was beautifully brightly backlit by the sun. A single casket laid out in the center of the sanctuary. Empty of its person as though it was waiting for its return.
In her bemused state, she laughed at the irony.
It had been a long time since Dylan was in a fistfight. So long he was almost afraid he'd forgotten the hand to hand combat he'd learned while in the service. Luckily it didn't take much. His assailant was already unsteady from the hit to the chin, one punch to the gut and another to the temple had him slumping to the ground.
By the time he hefted his unconscious would be attacker into the back seat of the hidden car, the Saviors were exiting the building. They seemed forlorn and subdued. He waited, but no Beth. No longer hiding, he didn't care who saw him, taking the shotgun as well as his Colt, he barged his way into the building.
When those left in the holding noticed his presence they simultaneously stopped. Movement stalled, voices hushed. He identified himself aloud to no one in particular. "I'm sure to disrupt y'all. Remember me? I'm the Sheriff." Not that that means anything to anyone there, he waited a moment before speaking again. "So who is gonna' tell me where Negan is?"
Unsurprisingly no one spoke. "None of you, as far as I know, have done anything wrong. I just need to talk to Negan," he tried.
The seconds ticked by slowly. A little boy sat on the floor with three other children near a huddle of women that were doing their best to ignore him. It was Eli, the only child from the day they came here with Denise and Jadis that dared to speak to him. He quietly shuffled over to Daryl. Looking over his shoulder back at his mother. She took a step toward them. Daryl stalled her with an upright hand.
Dary must have felt large and menacing to the little boy, so he knelt down on one knee to be more on his level. "Hey, Eli."
He stared bashfully at Daryl. "I saw him," he whispered. "I wasn't posta' look, but I did." Then his eyes went big. "He was dragging a girl, but she got away."
"She did?" Daryl asked, hopeful the boy saw it correctly.
Eli nodded vigorously. "Did you see where she went?" Daryl asked.
With a chubby little hand, Eli pointed to the back. "Into the woods. Negan was runnin' after her. But she's fast!" The little boy declared.
Damn, they could be long gone by now. Still, Daryl thanked Eli and smiled as he stood. Eli, straight-faced, the most serious little kid Daryl had ever met, went back to his place on the floor playing with the other children.
"Look who we found," Michonne spoke up behind him. She and Rick stood with Simon and a woman cowering behind them he guessed to be Sherry. "Draggin this young woman along with him."
"Didn't look to me like she wanted to go with you," Rick said to Simon. He was cuffed and so pissed it was surprising smoke wasn't coming out of his ears.
Simon remained silent.
Daryl was relieved to see his partner. Rick too. He didn't have the time to rejoice just yet. "Rick, can you stay? Keep an eye out. Michonne? You come with me. That bastard has Beth."
Michonne nodded already half out the door. With no other idea of where to go, they went in the direction the boy had pointed.
Negan dragged Beth to her feet again, forcing her to sit upright in one of the pews.
"So, what are you going to do now? Have your way with me?" She asked boldly, a smile crept to her bloodied lips.
"I'm assuming you mean make love?" He asked, gesturing to the room with disgust. "Here?
"Make love?" Beth barked out a humorless laugh. "Let's call a spade and spade. It's rape. That's what you do to all your so-called wives."
"Ha! I don't have to rape anyone. They're all willing."
She steeled herself with what was to come. She'd come to help Sherry, but that was only one reason. Maybe she was hoping to find herself alone with Negan. She was hoping to be in a position where she had to defend herself against him. What he was doing here needed to be stopped and since the law wasn't going to stop him. She would.
Beth stood, hating that she swayed, taking two steps toward Negan. "I get it now," she said, chin jutted in cool defiance, eyes blazing.
"What exactly do you get?" Negan asked.
"There is no point to any of this. You're nothing. You're nobody."
Before he could respond, she lunged forward, stabbing him in the shoulder. The four-inch blade sunk through to the handle, making a satisfying sound.
The look on his face was even more gratifying. A mixture of shock and pain. His arrogance fading by the second. He was realizing he was human after all. She wasn't sure whether he was more shocked by the pain or the person that delt the pain onto him.
Beth took advantage of the momentary surprise, as Andrea suggested, she kneed him in the balls. He let out a high pitched yelp and fell to his knees where. Using her knee again, she squared it into his nose.
How quickly this big man went down.
Following fresh shoe prints in the snow, two sets, one bigger, one smaller. When they came across the old cemetery and blood smeared in the snow, it vaguely reminded Daryl of years ago when he was young and he and Merle went hunting. He honed his tracking skills early on.
"Fresh," Daryl said aloud. They continued on, following the tracks in the snow.
He heard the scream before he found the abandoned church. Looking behind him, Michonne was right there. She heard it too.
Rckyfrk this I (Daryl chasing Beth to a funeral home/church) is kind of your idea when we talked about this story foreverrrrr ago! Thanks so much!
