TRIGGER WARNING! I never thought I'd have to out a trigger warning in this chapter, it seems nice enough. It goes from 'yay, Daryl and Jamie made up,' to 'holy crap, Beth is gone and... WHATDIDJAMIEDO!? This chapter contains things that can trigger those sensitive to issues associated with depression/selfharm so... yeah. Please review- tell me which parts struck a chord within you.
Bonus points if you catch the My Chemical Romance Reference! Post it in the review's and I'll tell you if you're right! :)
She woke up alone again, sprawled out on the pew. The last thing she remembered was the screaming, the screaming with no tears left to give.
She turned to her right to see Carl asleep beside her, less then an arm's length away. She smiled. A broken smile, but a smile, no less. She edged closer to him, simply finding comfort in his presence. She reached up to brush a stray lock of chestnut hair from his face, and his eyes fluttered open.
She waited until they focused in on her, smiling a little at his sleepy expression. Once he was awake enough to see her, he smiled.
"Morning." he whispered, sitting up quietly.
She hesitated a moment before smiling back. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, making colored patterns on the wooden floor around them. It stood out in stark contrast with the bloodstains from last night.
"How did I...?" her voice trailed off. She knew Carl would understand her meaning.
"I carried you. Brought you in. Couldn't just leave you asleep on the steps." he supplied.
She nodded, slightly surprised by the explanation. There had been a time, not even a year ago, when he would've struggled to carry her. As she looked over at him, though, she knew those times were gone. His chest had been getting broader, arms stronger. Gone were the two kids, running and playing tag on the farm, stealing kisses behind the barn.
Carl had noticed the distant look in her eyes, of course, and he edged closer ti her, concerned. She snapped her gaze back to reality, forcing a smile.
Maybe her Dad would be back today.
At that moment she heard people exclaiming and was on her feet, running towards the doorway. At that moment Daryl emerged from the woods, a lanky figure beside him.
She just stared from where she stood beside the doorframe, uncertain wether to go to him or even to DARE to hope.
"You gonna go see him?" Carl asked from where he stood behind her.
Suddenly she was nervous- she didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk to him. How would she even tell him what she was feeling? She shook her head rapidly. Feelings weren't something she and Daryl talked about often, let alone with the whole group standing in the yard and Rick and Daryl talking. No- definitely not talking about feelings today. Or ever. She could suck it up and forgive him...
They were looking towards the door, she realized, and she quickly ducked back inside, not wanting to be seen. No feelings.
"He's gonna want to see you." Carl said quietly, shooting a glance at her.
"I know." she snapped, before relenting with a sight. "Sorry. It's not you, it's just..."
"Jamie?" she heard Daryl call her name from outside.
"Shit." she hissed, scrambling under the pew just as Daryl strode into the room.
"Carl- you seen Jamie?" Daryl asked, looking around, confused. Rick had said she was in here, had told him she'd been pretty torn up about him being gone...
"Yeah. She took off into the woods a half hour ago, said something about looking for you." Carl lied. She was surprised with the ease he could lie, but then again- he was good under pressure.
Daryl's brows furrowed. "Weird. I didn't see her on my way in..."
"Yeah. She headed West, said something about a shack."
"A shack?"
"Yeah. Thought you were holed up there, said she saw tracks..."
"Tracks?" Daryl's voice was suddenly surprised. "We never went up that way..."
A moment later his boots were thudding across the floor and he was gone.
She rolled out from under the pews, eyes wide, as she stared at Carl.
"He's looking for me?" she asked, slightly shocked.
"No shit. He thinks you're headed towards strangers..."
"I have to beat him out there." she said suddenly, seizing her bow and quiver and slinging it over her shoulder quickly.
Carl stared at her, wide-eyed. "You just said you didn't want to talk to him!"
"I don't, but we can't just send him out on a wild goose chase..."
She grabbed her gun from where it'd been resting on the ground beside her, nodding to Carl. "I'll be back."
"You'd better be." he mumbled, voice not authoritative, rather, slightly shaky.
She nodded to him. "You know I will be." she promised quietly, planting her lips on his cheek for a split second before sliding out the open window, making sure ni one would see her, and breaking for the woods.
"Jamie!" Daryl called for her once again, slightly frantic. He'd gone barreling off into the woods as soon as Carl had told him Jamie was headed out, following tracks she thought were his.
The moment he'd heard that, his blood had run cold. She was following tracks, sure- she was a good tracker. But those footprints weren't his or Carol's. She could've been tracking anyone. And wether it was a survivor from Termius or a rapist, they'd sure as hell be pissed when they found out they were being followed. He didn't know what they'd do if they caught her.
"Jamie!" the woods was completely silent except for his voice. He looked around desperately, hoping for something, anything. There was nothing. And worse yet, he couldn't even find her tracks. It was like she'd never even been here at all...
There was a snarl to his left, a walker in a bedraggled shirt stumbled out of the brush, brittle frizzy hair strewn about her face and barely showing the glint of amber eyes. There were others behind her- three more.
He stepped back, raising his crossbow and dispatching the first with an arrow through the skull, decapitating the second with a swing of his crossbow, shoving the next out of the way, sending the walking carcass to the ground, and drawing his knife in one swift motion to end the fourth one before turning back to finish the incapacitated third.
He stood there for a moment, blood on his knife, sweat and grime coating his arms. He had to find Jamie before someone else did.
She moved silently, running in a half-couch through the woods, following the direction Daryl went. She could get out of this if she managed to get ahead of Daryl, divert the questions...
Daryl was twenty feet to her left. She dove behind a fallen tree, back against a callen log as she slumped over, praying he didn't see her.
Moaning. A distraction. She looked up to see his back was to her, he was busy fighting...
She was on the balls of her feet then, running on ahead. Daryl could handle the walkers, it was only a few. She made sure to break twigs and drag her feet through the leaves, drawing her knife and drawing it quickly across her forearm, smearing the crimson liquid onto the tree trunk. Obvious enough Daryl would notice and be on her trail in a minute, but not obvious enough for him to hear it above the walkers.
And she was running, tearing through the brush like a maniac. She'd have to get pretty damn far ahead of him to make this believable.
She heard him calling her name in the distance felt the guilt claw at her insides when she heard the worry in his voice. She hated making him worry like this, hadn't meant to send him on some pointless chase, but she'd gotten into this, and she could get herself out of it without getting her ass beat.
Her side throbbed painfully as she ran, thorns tore through her hair, but she could make it, just had to keep running awhile longer...
There was a hand in front of her face, then, graying flesh peeling from yellowing bones... She sprang backwards in time to avoid the swinging arm, the decaying nails that'd tried to pierce her flesh. She darted right, running on, able to rest easy knowing it wouldn't be able to catch her.
Less than three minutes later she was standing in the field, staring at the cool blue autumn sky. A field in the middle of nowhere. And before her, a dilapidated barn- it'd obviously been abandoned long before the apocalypse. The greying boards had fallen off and begun to rot, she could see into the hayloft and into the dark interior.
It elicited a rare smile from the girl. Barns like this had littered her hometown, forgotten by farmers, left alone for the wild grapevines to overtake and the crows to nest in, for the neighborhood kids to turn into rickety clubhouses and a place to play pretend in the summer.
Still- it was nice. Beautiful, even. It was one of those rare moments where she could pretend, even if it was only for a split second, that the apocalypse had never happened, that she was still just Jamie Kessler, a farm girl from South Carolina...
"Jamie!" Daryl called her name and she whirled, seeing him emerging from the tree line, looking relieved. She must've been staring at the barn for at least a few minutes for him to find her, and she turned, surprising herself, as she threw her arms around him.
He returned the hug without hesitation, burying his face in her scruffy, short haircut. It was a scent he couldn't name- it wasn't vanilla or anything sweet, but it was far from unpleasant. It was just... Jamie.
She finally pulled back to look up at him, eyes shining with emotion. She'd said she wasn't going ti talk about this, wasn't going to spill how she felt to him. But here- alone, away from the group- she knew she could.
"I... I missed you." she got lut, voice raw. And she was hugging him again.
"I missed you too, baby girl."
"And the walker, the one that got me, and you yelling at me, and then... you were gone, and I just... I thought I'd never see you again." she choked on the last words bitterly, still unwilling to accept them. "And... the last... damn thing... I'd have said to you would've been when I was pissed..."
Daryl's hold around her tightened, muscular arms wrapping around her in that same comforting way they always had. She melted into his hold, it was so safe, so familiar...
Daryl could feel her own heart beating against his. Small and fast like a rabbit's, she'd been scared, was scared, he realized, about him...
"I'll always come back, baby girl." he promised.
She shook her head, a few tears escaping. "Not if you're dead. You can't be around forever..."
Daryl looked at her sadly. He knew she was right- someday, he'd die. How did you comfort one of the only people you had left when death was inevitable?
"Yeah, well... I ain't gonna kick it 'til I'm good and ready. 'Til you're good and ready, too. 'Til we got another place set up, 'an fences, 'an you're older."
She hurriedly wiped her tears and nodded, realizing it wouldn't due any good to cry about death. After all, it'd never helped before...
Daryl wordlessly started back towards the church, Jamie quietly falling into step beside him. She studied the ground for one moment, two. "Where's Carol?" the question that's been gnawing at her inally escaoed her lips.
At the mention of her name, Daryl's exoression became one of pain. He was silent for a few moments, clearly thinking, before he spoke. "She got taken." he admitted, voice much softer than usual. We were chasin' a car, huntin' a group..."
"We're gonna get her back, right?" Jamie asked, voice borderline anxious as she watched him.
Daryl's jaw clenched. "Hell yeah we're- I'm- gonna get her back. You gotta stay..."
"I love her too." Jamie protested, jaw clenching as well. "You can't just count me out..."
"Beth." Daryl said her name quietly, but even hearing it was enough to make Jamie freeze in her tracks and stare up at him quizzically. "They have Beth." Daryl admitted, slightly louder. "That's why we were chasin' them in the first place. Car had a black cross on the back..."
Jamie just stared for a moment, unsure wether to be guilty Beth had been with these bastards fir so long or happy she was alive...
"Rick and i talked. We're gonna negotiate- get them back. They're in Atlanta. City is too dangerous for you to come-"
"I made it through Charleston." Jamie said seriously.
Daryl looked up, surprised. "You what?"
"I made it through Charleston. Ryder and I- when it started- wanted the fastest way outta SC. We had to go through Charleston. Don't tell me the city is to damn dangerous, because I promise you- Charleston was worse." her glare was reaching a dangerous intensity, now, she'd squared her shoulders, and it was clear she wasn't going to back down.
"What was Charleston like?"
His question caught her off guard, and her hostility dropped slightly, her stance relaxed a little. Her eyes dulled with memories.
"Hell. It was early in, people didn't know what they were. National Guard told everybody to stay inside, but they were loosing... people stared coming out, needed food. And they got bit, and then there were even more walkers..."
"How'd you get through?" Daryl asked. She'd never mentioned making it thriugh a city, let alone one as big as Charleston, before.
"Rooftops, mostly. Ditched the truck- wasn't no use. Not with the herds of dead roaming around. Some roads were clear, but the sewers were full of them. But yeah, we climbed the rooftops, mostly, jumped fire escapes and allies and tried to stay on the top floors of the building. Less dead up there. Some of the allies got walled off- camped there. And if you set shit on fire, the sound of it burning would attract the walkers..."
"How long did it take you?"
Jamie shrugged. "A week or so, maybe. Was harder than out here- no room to fight, too many dead- too easy to get cornered." her gaze was downcast, now, but she remembered her conviction, then, meeting his gaze. "But don't tell me it's too fucking dangerous..."
"You ain't comin'!" Daryl burst out, equally as frustrated. "If things go to shit... Beth and Carol are already on the line! I ain't riskin' you too!"
Jamie hid her surprise well, though, huffing and looking away. Honestly, she wasn't annoyed- rather, she was surprised that he'd love her enough to keep her safe, even if it meant she wasn't with him. Suddenly she realized- him excluding her from his wasn't abandonment- it was a declaration of love. He loved her too much to gamble with her life anymore than necessary. And suddenly- she understood her father that much more.
"I'm sorry." Daryl said finally. "But that's how its gotta be."
Jamie hesitated for a moment before nodding, not wanting it to seem like she was giving in too easily. She met his eyes, gaze serious.
"Bring 'em home."
"I plan to, baby girl. I plan to."
It'd been the most optimistic she'd felt in awhile. Despite having a church full of walkers and almost dying, she was pretty damn happy. Because hey- they had a firetruck and Glenn and Maggie were back. They weren't dead. Just a bit... compromised.
Sure, it pissed her off when she learned Eugene had been lying. Everyone had been hoping for a cure. But truthfully- it wasn't that earth shattering. She'd always assumed she'd never live long enough to see a cure implemented. She'd become used to living on the road- and honestly, even if civilization managed to re-establish itself, she'd be different. She'd always carry a gun, no matter how strong the fences were, and she'd still hunt, still not trust people until they proved their loyalty- and she'd never call anyone a family but those from the group. She could cope with living like this- in this world- forever.
That was what she thought, at least. But that was before Daryl carried her out of the firetruck.
Before she even saw him, she knew- she heard Maggie wailing, felt the grief heavy in the air- and knew. But knowing didn't soften the impact any, especially when she saw the look on Daryl's face.
Her blue eyes were closed, normally vibrant, if not dirty, blonde hair dull and stained with crimson. Stitched cuts were on her face, the black thread inly highlighting how ashen her skin really was. And she was gone.
She reached out, rough fingertips ghosting over the blonde hair, the ashen skin of her cheeks- she was gold, so cold- and she was gone. She pulled back her hand, recoiling. Her heart seemed to contract painfully in her chest, her vision blurred, and she couldn't breathe.
It wasn't Beth. It was a shell- just a husk they called flesh, something that'd contained someone so vibrant- so special- that the world dulled and blurred in its darkness without her.
Maggie walked behind them, leaning heavily on Glenn, shoulders shaking with sobs. Carol hobbled painfully behind them, Tyreese helping her walk. The procession continued, towards a fresh patch of grass. They laid her down quietly, her head in Daryl's lap- tears rolled down her father's face, and Rick and Abraham wordlessly began to dig, Carl soon joining them.
She picked flowers. As many as she could find, blooming in the autumn sunlight. They no longer seemed beautiful- just plants, now that Beth was gone. Just leaves. no radiance- no light. But she wove them into the familiar blonde locks all the same, ignoring the wetness on her cheeks and the way it hurt to breathe as she did so.
She tore stalks if goldenrod from the ground, covering the bottom of the grave with them- Carl joined her a moment later, wiping a hand across his moist eyes and filling his arms with bundles of Cherokee Roses and Goldenrod. They covered her with them, Gabriel said fancy words written in a book, some bullshit about love and loss and how god welcomed her with open arms.
All she could hear were the echoes of a song she'd watched Beth sing, not so long ago, in the old parlor of the house, as her dainty fingers swept across the piano keys.
But even as she thought of it, the memory dulled, tainted by misery and sadness. That beautiful song she'd listened to- it felt like she'd heard it years ago.
Numbness encompassed her. Daryl simply sat outside, beside the fresh heal of dirt covered in flowers, knees to his chest. Everyone mourned. But she didn't feel a damn thing.
It might've been shock, or denial- or maybe she'd taken so many blow that she was used to the pain, and knew better than to try and get back up. But she was just a body going through the motions, heating up a can of beans she couldn't muster up the appetite to eat, cleaning her gun and wiping her arrows, staring at the wall and trying not to see bloodstains on everything she looked at.
It was all too easy to slip away from the mourning group, out the church doors. Daryl didn't notice as she walked past him, into the night, into the woods.
Nothing even stirred when she sat down in a small clearing, the church still in sight, and cried long and hard, not because she was sorry for Beth, but simply because she was numb and don't know what else to do.
She didn't hesitate to shrug off Daryl's leather vest, or the ragged remains of Ryder's jacket. Didn't think twice as she rolled up her shirtsleeve. And didn't even flinch when she pulled out her knife, mournfully staring at the metal that glinted in the silver moonlight.
She didn't feel it cut her skin.
Numbness- grief- drown out all instinct and pain.
Her flesh sloppily parted as the blade danced over the pale skin, carving into the flesh. She tried her best to be deep and delicate- to craft the letters intricately, like a tattoo, vibrant- beautiful. Like Beth.
It didn't turn out right. There was no flowy, cursive lines of red in her skin- jagged lines of deep, parted flesh, chunky, all capital letters- adorned her upper arm.
She wasn't disappointed, though. She'd be a fool to expect it to be beautiful- to expect anything to be beautiful- with Beth gone.
A wave of dizziness hit her, and she realized how much crimson coated her blade and hands. A twig broke in front of her, and she started, looking up, not even caring enough to hide it, to be ashamed of what she'd done.
Carl stood, looking down at her, at her horrible, blocky letters she'd carved into her arm, and at the blood around her. He didn't look ashamed, or scared. He looked tired, exhausted from grief, and disappointed.
And then he sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest, His presence, his warmth- his caring- was enough to open the floodgates, and she openly sobbed in his arms.
"A tattoo- it was supposed to be like a fucking tattoo..." she admitted.
Carl ran his fingers through her scruffy hair, strong and gentle and just THERE- just someone to catch her as she lost it all.
"I didn't want to forget her... because it's so... damn... easy to forget..." She gasped out between tears.
Crimson dripped onto the leaves, and she found herself staring at what she'd done- at the rough letters she'd carved into her upper forearm. Four letters that meant the world to her- BETH.
"Breathe, just breathe, alright?" Carl begged her, sounding dangerously close to tears himself.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry- it was stupid, it was fucking stupid, I shouldn't have done it, I just..."
"Shh." Carl admonished, holding her tightly. "I... don't care. I hate seeing you like this. I don't want you to do this. But you can carve a thousand names into yourself, can give up a million times- and I will still love you. Understand?"
And she burst into tears yet again, surprised and lucky- so lucky- she had him in her life.
He quietly produced a bandana from behind his back, tying it like a bandage around the wound. She slowly ran out of tears, letting her sorrows bleed out of her like the regrets she'd freed with a blade.
She sniffed, finally getting her haywire emotions under control. "I... you can't... tell my Dad..." she admitted. The last thing Daryl needed right now was to be bothered with her.
"I won't. But... promise me- right now- that you won't do this again." Carl's voice was shaking, and she realized with trepidation that he was actually afraid...
She nodded. "I promise." she whispered, voice hoarse from crying and husky with emotion. She trailed her fingers down his cheek, quietly kissing his forehead and meeting his mournful, emotion-saturated gaze with her own.
She gave a breathless, exhausted laugh, and forced a sad smile.
"Somedays, Carl Grimes- I think the only hope for me is you."
MAILBAG
Christine, Chapter 82
I can't believe Beth's dead FUCK DAWN FUCKING BITCH SHOT HER IN THE HEAD
I know. I was afraid this would be an episode they'd end as a gunfight broke out or something, and I was totally unprepared for Beth's death. There was so much thatcould've happened- she had so much life ahead of her as a fearless survivor. But i was happy she went out the way she did- she died in order to save Noah, to do what she felt was right.
I feel like she takes after Hershel in that way- she knows you risk your life in everything you do, and you have to chose what to risk it for. She takes after Daryl, however, in that she fights to protect Noah, and in the end, sacrifices herself, like Daryl almost dies looking for Sophia. Heartbreaking way for her to go, but all-in-all- I'm glad she died for a reason, and not just a bite.
Poio666, Chapter 82
I just love this chapter. I can't describe it, but woow
I'm glad you enjoyed it! :) It was kinda really dark, but it had that aura of haziness, stumbling through the depression and just coping, trying to drag yourself through hell for the hope of something better in the other side. I have been listening to darker music lately, so maybe it's reflecting in these chapters.
But not much has been going on at the church, and I wanted to develop Jamie's character further throughout this arc, so. Glad you like! Pretty good for a high school sophomore, eh? :)