A/N: Wow, I can't believe I finished it when I said I would :)) Here is ch. 2.
"Who's Beth?" Negan asked again, watching his prisoner with intrigue. It was a name he hadn't heard yet, and Negan could use some collateral right now to motivate his newest possession. But Daryl no longer saw them; he was in a world all his own when he was awake, and crying like a baby when he slept.
"He's dyin', Negan," Simon said beside him.
"You think I can't see that?" Negan sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I thought for damn sure he was a fighter, especially how hard he fought when we first brought him here."
"Maybe he's just too broken…after what happened." Simon shifted uncomfortably as Negan stared at him, "Thing about breaking a man is ya can break him too much – ya gotta do it right."
"Nah, if you're gonna break a man, do it with kindness, right? We've been beating him, that's what he's used to if those scars are any indication. We gotta take care of him, get him to trust us." Negan pushed off the doorframe of Daryl's cell, locking it behind him and leaving Daryl in complete darkness. He walked with newfound purpose, setting Lucille on his shoulder as he strode through the compound.
"We've tried that, remember? He damn near killed the doctor." Simon said, catching up to him.
"So we send in someone less threatening."
"Like who?"
"Lori." Negan smiled and Simon stopped him walking.
"Lori ain't one of us…" his right hand man reminded him. Negan only shrugged.
"Not yet, this can be her initiation. Besides, she has some medical training, right?"
"Yea, some."
"Well, maybe it'll be just enough to get Mr. Dixon to cooperate. He ain't no good to me dead. Now, I'm gonna go talk to Lori…alone." Simon sighed, stepping from Negan's path.
"Pardon the interruption," he said, trying his best to be charming. The young woman looked up from her book, not smiling or scowling at him, just acknowledging his presence. "I have a favor to ask."
"And you're asking me because…?"
"Because you and I got off to a bad start. I want to show you I can be good." She scoffed at him, and he did his best to keep his anger in check. "There's a man here, been treated kind of rough – keeps attacking my doctor when we send him in. I'm told you have some medical training, and I was hoping you'd be kind enough to help me – help him." It got her to look at him, but not in the way he wanted.
"You want me to go try to treat a man who's been attacking people?" she asked, her voice incredulous. "What makes you think he won't attack me?"
"Cause you're not as threatening as some of my other staff…"
"So you've tortured someone and want me to fix him for you?"
"Torture is an ugly word,"
"If the shoe fits." She mumbled, returning her focus to her book. He stepped closer, gripping the edges of the table she sat at and leaned in uncomfortably close.
"The thing is, you're entirely too defiant for your own good. Maybe helping this man will not only help me, but it'll help you realize exactly why you want to stay on my good side. I've let you stay here while asking very little in return. It's time you start earning your keep, just like everyone else."
"Fine, take me to him." she huffed, rising to her feet.
Lori followed in Negan's footsteps, stopping first at the medical bay to get some basic supplies, and then to a block of the sanctuary she'd never seen before – and hoped to never see again.
"He's just in here," Negan said, opening the door and handing her an LED lantern. "I'll be waiting right here, scream if you need help."
She switched the lantern on, squinting at the overly bright light. The door was closed and locked from the outside and she held up the light to find the man in question. There was a low growl that came from behind her, and she turned on her heel to see a man curled up in the corner, knees up to his chest. Seeing his shaggy brown hair the supplies slipped from her hands as her breath lodged in her throat.
"Her name's Beth…" he mumbled.
She recognized him, having seen his face every night in her dreams she'd know that face – and that voice – anywhere…Daryl Dixon. She shuffled closer, fighting the tears that burned in her eyes as she knelt beside him.
"I missed ya…" came his quiet voice, and he managed a small smile. Her heart wrenched at the bruised and bloody sight of him, but she smiled nonetheless.
"Told ya you would.
"I remember." His body physically relaxed and she knelt beside him, doing the only thing she could think to do in that moment…sing. She sang her heart out, trying to ignore the existence of the man on the other side of it, waiting for her to heal him.
Her hands went to the hem of his shirt, about to pull it up and off to assess and treat his wounds, but she stopped. She knew Daryl, knew how proud and private he was, even though they'd been together for weeks, he never undressed anywhere near her. He was unconscious, and he wouldn't appreciate her doing this without his consent or being awake.
"What did they do to you?" she asked, her voice hitching with tears. But Daryl was already out. She felt for his pulse, it was weak and thready, but it was there. White hot rage coursed through her and she pursed her lips, rising to her feet and banging loudly on the door.
"You alright?" Negan asked sweetly.
"I'm fine, but he's not. You have to move him out of this room if you want me to help him. He has a lot of injuries and I need a lot more light and a clean environment to treat these cuts." She could see Negan wanted to protest, to gloat and tell her that this place was run by him and not her and she would do what he said and when. But he only smiled.
"Yes, ma'am."
Beth followed close behind them, never taking her eyes from his face. They were all a little too thin these days, but in the harsh light of day she could see how truly pale and malnourished he was. They arrived at the medical bay, and Daryl was placed on a gurney and a curtain closed around them. She was alone in a small space with Negan, Simon and the Doctor that Daryl apparently attacked. She sent the doctor to get a basin of warm water and washcloth.
"You can both leave," Beth said, not looking up from Daryl.
"Sorry, ma'am that wouldn't be appropriate – to leave a young woman and an unconscious man together. This here is a respectable establishment." Simon laughed at Negan's joke and Beth glared at them.
"I have to give him a bath of sorts to see where the injuries actually are, and then I have to clean them out and bandage him. Unless, of course, you want to watch me undress a grown man…" Negan sighed, giving her an amused smirk.
"Alright, let's leave the lady to her work. If he wakes up and sees the doc he might still attack anyway…damn dog."
She flinched at the words Negan had said, wondering if he had been verbally abusing Daryl as well as physically. She couldn't help but be protective of him, knowing how little Daryl thought of himself. It wouldn't be hard to undo the fragile self-confidence he'd managed to gain within the ranks of their family. The doctor set the basin of water near Daryl's bed and disappeared behind the curtain once more.
"I know you're gonna be mad at me for this, but I hope you'll thank me later." She said, now pulling his shirt up and over his head. It would be easier if he were awake, she can't exactly lift and maneuver him the way she needs to and she would rather die than ask Negan for any help at all.
Her heart clenched and her stomach knotted at the state of his body. Most of his torso was black and blue and purple instead of white. Though some of the open cuts on his arms, face and chest still bled, the wounds had partially scabbed over. She cringed, not sure if the wounds were that fresh, or they had already scabbed over and had been ripped open again by Negan or his men during a beating.
The bruising was heaviest around his ribs and Beth feared he had broken ribs and a punctured lung. The handprints around his neck told her he'd been choked and deprived of oxygen more than once. Her anger burned so hot she was numb with it, unable to even cry for this man she loved so dearly. She would help him as much as she could, and as soon as he was able, they were getting out together…again.
Making quick work with a warm washcloth, she gently wiped away the blood and grime that had caked to his skin. He needed a good soak in soapy water to get it all off, but she could clear enough to give her an accurate picture. So far none of his injuries required stitches. But there was one wound that caught her attention, on his left hand, a faded scar in the shape of a small circle, not unlike her gunshot wound. But it was a burn. Her fingers ghosted over the scar, vowing once more that she would get him better, then get him home.
When Daryl woke again the air had shifted, he wasn't in his cell and he wasn't alone. It wasn't near this bright where they kept him, and it didn't smell this clean. Clean, his skin didn't feel so tight anymore, and a lot of the dull aches had subsided. Had someone bathed him? Had it all been some horrific nightmare and he'd wake up in Alexandria and greet Glenn like he did every morning?
"Daryl?" came a weak, broken whisper. There was hope in her voice, faint – but it was there. He didn't want to open his eyes, she couldn't be here – not here – she couldn't be alive. He didn't want to open his eyes because if she was here, he was well and truly dead. They both were.
"Daryl?" she asked again, her voice more forceful, more detached, "My name is Lori; I'm here to help you."
He slapped her hand away as the cotton touched the open wound above his eye and he had her pinned beneath him in one swift motion. If she didn't look so much like Beth he'd've had his hand 'round her neck. Her clothes were different; she had the scars on her cheek and forehead; the bullet hole near her temple and bracelets around her left wrist. She wasn't in the yellow shirt he last saw her in, she wasn't singing, she didn't look at all at peace or angelic. She didn't scream for help or struggle at all. Her eyes were as calm and gentle as he remembered, breathing heavily beneath him. His head swam along with his vision; the physical exertion of such a small action exhausted his mind and body.
"Shh, it's ok, I won't hurt you." She whispered, her eyes looking at him with such intensity he could hear the words she wasn't speaking. Her name was Lori. But this was Beth. She was asking him to play along.
He rolled off her onto his side, the gurney not wide enough for the both of them. Laying his forearm over his eyes, he felt her slip from his side and shuffle closer, then she was dabbing the open gash above his eye. If she was just gonna be using that cotton ball to clean him up, she had her work cut out for her.
"You're gonna be alright, Daryl."
"Whatever you say, Lori…"
He let her do whatever she wanted, she moved his limbs where she needed them and he rolled onto his stomach when she asked. If it was anyone else he would've fought tooth and nail, but it was Beth and she was taking care of him and who was too damn tired to fight. She's so gentle it almost hurts in comparison to the abuse he's endured so far.
When she tucked the blanket around him he was certain this was a dream. As she turned to walk away, he grabbed her wrist pulling her closer and down to the bed.
"Stay with me, girl." He told her, figuring it could do no harm to anyone if it was only in his mind. She smiled at him, and careful of his injuries, laid beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple, no longer afraid to show affection, "God, I've missed you, Greene."
"I missed you so much, Daryl…"
He's alone again, he realizes, when he wakes in his cell. This time, there is less pain; the blood that had been caked and dried on his skin was gone. Where there had been open wounds now were covered with clean white bandages. It hadn't been a dream. Or maybe Lori was real but he just saw Beth. He couldn't think straight.
Again, it's kinda bare, I'm just doing set-up right now. The next few chapters are gonna focus on where Beth has been and Daryl's unraveling sanity. Sorry. :/ but I hope you enjoyed it :)