Chapter 59 - Back to nowhere

The light dimmed, the shadows lengthened, and the night slowly clenched its dusky fingers around them as they ran through the woods.

Branches whipped at her face, tree roots made her stumble, but still Beth pushed on.

At first, they had been moving at a frantic pace because they were never far from the bony clutches of grasping walkers, but now, Beth suspected that they were still moving at this rate because Daryl couldn't stop. She was torn somewhere between trying to keep up with him and trying to slow down for Bob, who was lagging, his laboured breathing a reminder of how much he was struggling.

Her lungs were on fire, her feet ached, and it seemed like they had been running for an eternity when she finally called out, her voice dry and choked.

"Daryl!"

He ignored her.

"DARYL!"

A cry of his name that was so impassioned, he finally slowed, panting hard, and turned to glare at her.

"What?!"

"We need to stop! Bob's injured! We're exhausted! Please, can we stop?"

Staring at her for a steely moment more, Daryl then said, "Fine. Stop up here."

Further on, there was a spot up against a bank which could provide adequate protection for the night, and Beth and Daryl set to work rigging up a rudimental alert system the best they could, whilst Bob sank down against a tree trunk.

"You ok?" Beth asked in concern as she knelt next to him. "Let me check your wound."

Carefully, she slipped Bob's shirt from his shoulder and peeked under the dressing that she had roughly applied back at the prison. "Ok, it looks like the bleeding has stopped. How's it feeling?"

"Kinda like I've been shot." replied Bob with a tired smile. "I'm fine." he added to reassure her.

Beth nodded as she busied herself re-wrapping his wound, then he laid a hand on her forearm.

"Are you ok?" he asked with a pointed look. "After all that?"

Beth hesitated, then sat back on her heels.

"I don't know." she said honestly. "I feel like I haven't had time to really think about any of it yet. Hasn't sunk in. Maybe I don't want it to." She gave him a small smile. "You should get some rest now, we'll keep watch." She then turned to Daryl who'd started a little fire a couple of feet away. "Daryl, do you-"

"Goin' huntin." Daryl interrupted gruffly, then disappeared into the brush.

"You think he's ok?" asked Bob quietly after he was sure Daryl had gone. "He doesn't seem to be coping very well."

"Oh." said Beth softly. "You didn't see. You don't know."

"Know what?"

"Tahlia." whispered Beth, afraid that if Daryl somehow heard her repeating this, he'd lose his shit completely. "She… she didn't make it. Happened right in front of us. Right there at the end."

"Oh shit." murmured Bob, understanding dawning. "Oh shit."

A long while later, Daryl returned with a couple of opossums, and with his back to Beth and a now sleeping Bob, he skinned and gutted them, then cooked them over the fire. When they were ready, he tossed a few pieces Beth's way, then moved to sit against a tree a decent distance from her and stared into the night.

"Daryl?" Beth's voice was tentative as she crept over to him. "Are you ok? I mean, what happened to Ta-"

"Don't!" His growl was so fierce that Beth squeaked, shrinking back. "Don't wanna hear a fuckin' word 'bout any of that."

She nodded, shaking a little. "Sorry. Ok. Sorry. I can take watch, if you want to rest?"

"Naw. Ain't tired. Go to sleep."

Daryl was tired. But he couldn't close his eyes. If he did, all he saw was her.

And he didn't want to fucking think about her. Not now. Not ever.

Because if he did, then the pain would come. And right now, all he was feeling was numb. Blissfully numb. A wide-open, frozen wasteland of emptiness inside him, stretching as far as the eye could see.

It was better this way.

"Daryl? Where are we going?" Beth risked asking the question as she and Bob followed on after the hunter as he doggedly pushed through the bush the next day. She could see his shoulders lift in a shrug as he kept moving.

"Hey man, maybe we should stop and-" tried Bob, but he was immediately cut off.

"Ain't stoppin'. Gotta keep movin'." Because movement was the only thing keeping the creature of grief coiled and dormant inside him. Keeping it at bay.

"But where?!" cried Beth. "Are we even looking for the others? I know-"

Whirling around, Daryl threw a hand in the air. "Ya don't gotta fuckin' stick with me!" he snapped. "Feel free to go whichever way ya damn well please. I'm goin' this way."

And then he was off again. Resentful that he had their two sorry asses to look after in the first place. He just wanted to be alone.

Beth and Bob exchanged a look, and Bob shrugged. "Rather suck it up and deal with his grouchy ass than split off and risk getting lost in the woods forever."

Heaving a sigh, Beth nodded.

They needed Daryl. So, no matter how much of a jerk he was being – and it was the worst version of jerk-Daryl that she'd ever encountered – they had to stick with him.

For another whole day and night, they carried on like this. Daryl barely acknowledging that they existed, and being really damned rude when he did, while he moved non-stop, focused on some unspoken mission to get to some unnamed place.

By the third morning, they came across an inviting-looking, clear stream and Bob said, "Maybe we could stop for a bit, wash a little, rest a little?"

"Naw." came the hard reply.

For some reason, that did it for Beth.

She had been doing her best to remain cheery, to give Daryl the space he needed to process what had happened in his own way, certain that he would soon soften and show them some of the kindness that she knew underlay that surly exterior. But it hadn't happened yet, and now she'd had enough. She started to see red.

Picking up a hard clod of dirt, she heaved it at Daryl's back as he was about to disappear through the trees again, and it smacked him directly between the shoulders before breaking up and sprinkling to the ground. He turned around slowly, a dark look on his face, and glared at her.

"Stop it!" she yelled, stamping her foot and clenching her fists at her side. "You gotta damn well stop it! You're treating us like crap, and we don't deserve that! Whether you like it or not, we've only got each other, we're in this together, and it's about damn time you started acting like it! You're not the only one who lost somebody they love back there! I'm hurting too, but you don't see me taking it out on my friends."

Something crackled across Daryl's face with her words, and he only just seemed to remember that she'd seen her father brutally murdered in the field.

She softened. "You can't keep running from it. It'll catch up with you sooner or later."

Daryl stared at her for a moment longer, then whirled on his heel and strode off into the trees.

"Well." sighed Beth. "Looks like we might be on our own."

She went to sit next to Bob near the stream, and he put an arm around her shoulders. "It's gonna be ok. We're gonna be ok."

Stalking away, Daryl shoved through the foliage until he came to the edge of a small clearing with wildflowers carpeting the ground, and he was uncomfortably reminded of the other clearing that had been a special place for them.

He glanced around.

The woods. The best and worst place to be.

The place that felt like home, but was hanging with memories of her.

With a sigh of resignation, he dropped down to lean against the rough bark of a pine, the vague earthy, bright smell of Christmas tinging the air around him. The discomfort in his chest had already become agonising, his entire body tensed and begging to run, run, run from this creature of grief inside that wanted to choke him.

Beth was right, though. About all of it. He needed to stop.

And he knew what else he needed to do.

Feel it. Sit with it. Let it be.

He really didn't fucking want to.

But the rational part of his mind knew that the creature would only grow bigger the longer he tried to ignore it.

It was time.

So.

One breath in. One back out.

He would let it take him.

He felt it stirring, unfurling, moving now, clawing its way up inside him, ripping and shredding him to pieces. Forcing its way into his throat, it jammed his airways and left him strangled, the pressure building until it exploded, embedding him with shrapnel, bleeding him out, an acrid cloud engulfing him.

No more her. And because of that, it felt like there was barely anything left of him.

Then, like drilling for water, his deep reservoir of grief was suddenly accessed, and the tears came, a rainstorm, and then he was drowning. Everything flooded, faded away, and all that was left was pain. Tearing, searing, agonising pain.

And it was too much all toomuchtoomuchtooMUCH

With trembling hands and quavering lips he managed to light a cigarette and pressing the smoldering tip against the soft flesh above his thumb was a welcome relief from the agony inside.

Again. And again. And again.

The physical pain a vine swinging him away from the acidic pit of burning emotion.

He could breathe again now.

Ragged, stumbling breaths, but breath at least.

Drained and dazed in the aftermath of all this, for a moment, he wished he'd never met her. Wished he'd never found her that day in the store. Wished he could undo her from his life, delete her from his cell memory. Because it would be better to have never known what he was capable of feeling. Because there was no going back to the blissful, dull ignorance of before.

But then the idea of that hurt more. Worse.

To have never known her?

Before her, his life was a dusty, grey backroad to nowhere. But she was his busy city street filled with life and soul and vitality and noise and popping, vibrant colour.

With her, he lived.

And now every step away from that city was walking barefoot on broken glass.

Walking away back to nowhere.

The pain didn't lessen – would never lessen, he suspected - but it became bearable as he welcomed it, this new part of him that was here to stay, and eventually he managed to push himself to his feet. He felt flayed and raw, every cell burning and stinging with the freshness of it all, but the creature had slaked its thirst on his anguish, and was resting, for now.

Beth nearly jumped out of her skin when Daryl appeared, head hanging, back by the stream.

"Got some food." He offered up his rag full of berries and kudzu, and some skewered pieces of rabbit that he had just caught and cooked.

Sitting down cross-legged near them, he looked over at Bob. "How's that shoulder?"

Bob smiled, unsure of where Daryl's sudden concern had come from, but grateful for it all the same. "Doing just fine, thanks."

Daryl nodded, then turned to Beth. "Y'ok?" he asked in the softest tone he'd used in three days.

Speechless at his change of tune, she just nodded, wide-eyed.

"'Kay." He was silent a moment before speaking up again. "Thought maybe we'd carry on for just a little longer. Lotsa little cabins dotted around these woods, think I know where one is. Can hole up for the night, make a plan. You guys good with that?"

Exchanging a glance, Bob and Beth quickly said, "Yes." in unison, almost afraid that if they took too long to answer, Daryl would revert back to the angry caveman he'd been for the past couple of days.

"'Kay." he said again. "Lemme know when you're ready to move."

Late that afternoon, they came across the cabin that Daryl was aiming for, a poky two-roomed place, and despite the fact that part of one outer wall and a small section of the roof had caved in, it was still inhabitable, and Beth was just pleased to have a roof over their heads for a night. It didn't take long to clear the place – just a lone walker dragging herself across the bedroom floor, which Daryl quickly killed and moved outside – then they strung up some alerts and secured the area as best as they could.

The previous occupant had obviously camped out in the bedroom for a while, and they found a small stash of tinned food and a couple of bottles of cheap whiskey. Holding one in his hand, Bob cast a nervous glance over at Daryl (given that the last time there'd been a bottle between them, Daryl had nearly thrown him to the walkers), but this time, Daryl just nodded, and pushed the bottle gently into Bob's chest.

"We been through some serious shit. You deserve a drink, bro."

They ate and drank, and although Daryl still didn't say much, the atmosphere between them had lightened noticeably. Beth even chanced the first line of a song, and when Daryl didn't tell her to stop, she carried on singing, the music igniting a little flare of hope inside her, hope that everything was going to be all right.

Later that night, Bob had passed out in the bedroom, and Daryl and Beth were sitting opposite one another by the caved-in wall, a candle between them and the heavy cloak of darkness shrouding the world outside.

Beth took another small sip from the bottle, wrinkling her nose at the burn it left in her mouth. This was the first time she'd tried alcohol and it tasted worse than she'd expected, but she was enjoying the little fire it stoked in her belly, the fuzzy warmth in her head.

"I miss them." she sighed. "I miss everyone. I miss the prison. I just can't believe that everything turned upside down so fast." Glancing at Daryl, she could tell that he was listening, even though he wasn't looking at her, so, encouraged, she kept talking. "You know, I used to think about the future – I'd imagine that Maggie and Glenn would have a baby, maybe two... we would all celebrate birthdays and holidays and pass the years together. That daddy would grow old, and that of course, one day he would... but it would be so quiet and so far down the line, that it wouldn't feel like time with him was stolen from us. We'd all have long, happy lives. Together 'til the end."

There was a wistful note to her voice as she wove the threads of an alternative future. One never to be.

Daryl stared out into the inky night as she spoke, his knees hugged into his chest, his jaw clenched, lips pursed, vision blurring as thoughts of his own future, one that might have been, slashed painfully in his mind.

"Are you ready to... talk about her yet?" ventured Beth, terrified that the question would elicit another violent reaction from him, but this time he just gave a tight shake of his head, eyes still searching for solace in the night. "Well..." she continued, "...do you mind if... if I do?"

That drew his gaze, only for a brief second, but long enough to convey hesitant assent.

Beth took a slow inhale, a smile building on her lips with the breath.

"She always made me laugh. That was my favourite thing about her. Y'know, most days she'd come and see me for a bit, help a little with Judith, ask how I was doing. Always checked in, always seemed like she really cared. One day, Judith was being so fussy, I couldn't get her to stop crying, and I was getting so frustrated, then Tahly shows up and offers to take her. I was a grouch about it, y'know – 'I've been trying all morning, and you think you can make her stop?!' Not me, she says. A change of arms. Sometimes a change of arms is all you need."

Daryl's eyes were on Beth now, his thumbnail between his teeth, drinking in this story, a new piece of his girl that he hadn't seen before.

"And she was right! I handed Judith over and that little girl stopped fussing, just like that! I was so mad, I'd been trying for so damn long! Must've been so obvious - I had my arms folded like this and a big frown on my face. So, she watches me for a bit, then says, you got your arms free now – don't tell me you're gonna waste that by just keeping them folded! Waste of free-arm time! I'm still all mad, huffing around, and I say, what am I supposed to do?! She shrugs, just like, so casual, and says, a cartwheel. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And she had that look, you know the one, where she's almost managing to keep a straight face, but her eyes are laughing like she knows the best joke in the world..."

Daryl nodded, his eyes misting. That look of hers was burned into his mind. That look was a spark in the dark.

Beth carried on, her smile widening. "And I'm like, what?! All cross-like. Then she says, don't you know? Hands free and a few feet of space? That's cartwheel city, girl! And I just roll my eyes and tell her that she's stupid. Then she starts chattering to Judith in this singsong voice: can you believe that girl is just wasting this good time by not doing a cartwheel? She's crazy, isn't she bub? She doesn't even know that doing a cartwheel is the easiest way to turn that frown upside down! All this dumb stuff, y'know, as if I weren't standing right there, just annoying the hell outta me. She's really getting me going by this time, and I don't know why, but I just shouted, fine! And I did a cartwheel, right there across the cellblock floor, and as I landed back on my feet, Judith let out this loud happy squeal and clapped her hands, and then I just started laughing so hard that I could barely stand and Tahly's just standing there with this big grin on her face, like, I told you so. Then we did cartwheels up and down the block, being so silly and laughing so much that most of the time we fell on our asses, Judith giggling just as much as we were as she watched on..." Beth laughed and wiped at her eyes. "I think about that day with her because I was in such a mood, but she just turned it right around."

A noise escaped from Daryl, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and a tiny smile quivered on his lips as he pictured the scene that Beth had just painted - typical Tahlia, happy to annoy people until there was nothing left for them to do but cheer up. Then his expression hardened, and he gave a forceful nod, twirling the bottle of whiskey around in his hand.

"Yep." he said, his voice strangled with bitterness. "That was her. A damn clown most of the time. Ain't never able to take nothin' seriously. Always floatin' around all damn sunny!" He banged the bottle hard on the floor, amber liquid sloshing over the top as he sucked in a ragged breath.

"Like nothin' ever bothered her! The biggest goddamn pain in the ass I ever met in my whole fuckin' life!" His voice rose in anger, and he hurled the bottle far out into the darkness, a faint shattering noise as it met a tree.

Then he dropped his head to his bent knees, and, as much as he tried to hide it, it was clear that he was crying. Beth's heart frayed a little seeing that, and she scooted over to sit next to him, slipping an arm around him and laying her head on his shaking shoulders.

"I know." she soothed. "I know."

He stayed like that for a long while after the tears had subsided, then surreptitiously wiped his cheeks on his trousered knees before lifting his head.

"I'm real sorry 'bout your dad. He was a great man."

Beth nodded, a tear running a glistening track down her own cheek at that.

"And I'm real sorry I didn't do more. Coulda stopped it, maybe, if I'da done somethin' sooner. But I just watched and waited and... if I hadda just done somethin', maybe it woulda been different. Maybe Hershel... maybe Tahly..."

"No! Daryl, that's not on you." Beth shook her head. "None of us knew things would go the way they did. You can't think like that. You just can't. All we can think about is how we keep going now."

She kept her head resting on his shoulder for a while longer, surprised at how comforting it felt, then sat up.

"We're not the only ones that survived, I know we're not. Bob said he saw Maggie and Sasha running out. And then there's everyone on the bus. They can't be too far away. I wanna find them. Try and piece back together what's left of our family."

Family.

That word stung because Daryl's loss was still a gaping chasm inside him, cold and dark and endless, but maybe finding some of the other people that were close to his heart could be the first step in filling that gap, rebuilding.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Maybe we should."

"Terminus. Sanctuary for all, community for all." Beth read from the large sign in front of her as they stood on the train tracks the following morning. "You think this is real?" she asked dubiously.

"Terminus…" repeated Daryl, then he stood up a little straighter. "Shit! This is the place we heard 'bout on the radio on that medicine run! Right, Bob?"

Bob nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Yeah, this is the one! You think the others would go there?"

"None of us got anywhere else to go." shrugged Daryl. "And if Michonne seen this, Tyreese seen it, they'll remember too. Maybe think the same way as us."

"Alright." said Bob. "To Terminus."

After following the tracks for most of the day, they had veered off in the evening to find a safe place to hole up for the night, when Beth noticed a frown had appeared on Daryl's face and he was intently studying the forest floor.

"Daryl?"

He just lifted a hand to silence her, then kept studying the ground. "People been through here not that long ago."

"Could be anyone." remarked Bob, a little nervously.

"But could be ours. And could be long gone if we wait 'til mornin' to try find them. C'mon, let's see who these tracks belong to."