Yes! I have found my inspiration! I realize that NOBODY CAN WAIT UNTIL FEBURARY! That being said- I had a bunch of writers constipation, so I appoligize. Here it is, and please review!
Two days of complete silenced passed. She was numb- completely, totally numb. Carl would slip off into the woods with her once or twice a day, peel off the cloth from Beth's jagged memorial in her flesh, as well as the bullet graze on her face, and clean them. Make sure they didn't get infected.
She didn't really care, though. Daryl rarely spoke to her, Carol only gave her small glances, and Carl would watch her sadly as he tended to her wounds, as though he pitied what she'd become. Useless.
That was what she'd thought, anyways.
On the evening of the second night, though, as he wordlessly poured the cloudy contents of his water bottle over her forearm, he spoke.
"You aren't the only one who misses her, you know."
She looked at him through glassy, mournful eyes, not saying a word, before lowering her gaze back to the dirt.
"This... this isn't you. This-" Carl motioned to her arm, to where she'd carved Beth's name. "This isn't what you are. You're better than this... stronger... than this."
He made a strangled noise, then, and she looked up, alarmed, to see his eyes glossy with unshed tears.
"Why can't you just get up? Why can't you just stop? Say something... goddammit, just say something! Anything. You haven't said anything since... that..." he motioned to the bloody memorial on her arm. "I can't lose you." a tear dripped from his face, falling into the leaves.
She felt the first things she'd felt in eternity- sadness. Upset that she'd caused him this. This pain. She couldn't do anything right, and all he wanted was something, anything, any words she could say...
"I'm pissed." she muttered.
"What?" Carl stared, moving closer to her, not hearing her quiet voice.
"I'm... pissed." she spat, voice shaking.
Carl held her gaze, saying nothing...
"They fucking killed her! Beth! Why'd it have to be Beth!? Why not me, or somebody else, or that kid- Noah- that Daryl came back with!? Why Beth!?" she was on her feet, now, screaming at nothing in particular.
Her chest heaved as she spoke, the intense emotion showing through her expression, the way the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Carl just stared, eyes mournful. He felt hopeless, helpless that she'd finally voiced her pain and he could do nothing to help her.
She turned away from him, catching her breath, getting her emotions under control. When she turned back to look at him, her eyes were cold. Menacing, even.
"I want them dead."
"Want..." Carl's eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. She wanted revenge.
She turned, glaring. It took Carl a moment to pick up what she was hearing, but a few moments later a walker stumbled into view, moaning and buckling as it limped towards them.
"Would you fuck off!?" Jamie screamed at it, frustrated, as she notched an arrow, firing it into the walker's skull. It laid in the leaves and was silent.
Carl just stared at her- dirty, sweaty, eyes wild, pleading.
"We can do it. We can get them back..."
"its in Atlanta..." Carl was hesitant.
"I don't care if its in California, goddammit! They don't deserve to live! Not after... not after they killed her..." tears streamed down her face- like she was begging, no, pleading, for him to validate her, understand her rage.
"What are we going to do?" Carl asked, at a loss.
"We go there. And we kill them." Jamie ground out between grit teeth, staring at him. "How can you not understand this!? You of all people, you should KNOW! At the prison, you gunned down that kid for no reason at all- and now you hesitate, now of all the goddamn times, when they actually deserve it..."
Carl's eyes took on the look of pain at the mention of the prison, of what he'd done...
"That was... different. I was angry."
"Do I looking fucking angry to you!?" she took a step closer to him, near hysterics. "If it'd been me that they'd killed, would you have just let them go..."
Carl's face darkened at the mention of her death, his eyes growing slowly more cloudy, more dangerous, as he glared down at the leaves.
He looked up at her, then, pushing the brim of his hat up on his head and meeting her serious gaze with his own hatred towards those bastards clearly showing.
"How would we get there?"
Daryl had settled in the woods before the church, eyes emotionless. He'd seen death before- it was awful. But he'd never been hurt as badly as he felt right now. It was like someone had gutted him, scraped out all his insides, and trampled them, before putting them back in. Even breathing hurt.
They'd succeeded in bracing the church door, reinforcing it with scrap-wood and old two-by-fours. Still, the moans of the undead permeated the little clearing in front of the church, the place they'd decided to call home for now.
The firetruck was a little ways away. Eugene laid still beneath their make-shift tent for him, and everyone else sat mournfully by the fire, simply staring into the flames, too beaten down to speak.
Daryl turned towards the woods, hearing a sound no one but the hunter was keen enough to hear. Jamie emerged from the tree line, stepping into the circle of light cast by the fire. The flames reflected eerily off her skin, emphasizing how alive she was.
She brushed a ragged lock in short hair from her face- it'd take a month or two to grow out, at most- her hair always grew fast. And it'd been worth it, slicing off the chestnut locks to slip through the herd.
Daryl looked up at her, eyes mournful but looking relieved to see her. He shifted his crossbow off his lap, uncrossing his legs and leaning back against the tree, glancing up at her.
She knew what the gesture meant, even if he didn't outright ask it, and she slipped easily over to him, crawling into his lap, being careful to curl her right side, the one with the uninjured arm, against his side, as she rested her head on the nook between his shoulder and neck, pulling his vest tighter around him.
He quietly pulled her closer to him, and she began to drift off, not afraid he'd get up and leave her alone again. She could tell by the way he held her a little tighter than usual, the way his eyes kept darting up towards the freshly dug grave- he wasn't going to leave her. Not tonight, and not ever again.
She woke up to the sound of banging. It wasn't that unusual, truth be told- the damn walkers had been banging on the church door all night. She blinked sleepily, rubbing a grimy hand across her eyes and sitting up from where she was still in Daryl's lap. Her conversation with Carlk last night still weighed heavily on her mind.
The undead had grown more rowdy during the night- they ere probably getting hungrier. As she looked at the rotting hands that struggled through the gap in the church doors, she felt a little sadistic. She hoped they all fucking starved.
Abraham had noticed she was awake- she nodded a quiet greeting to him before she stood- she was the only one up besides him.
She strode into the woods, out of sight, to take a piss, before buckling her belt again and standing, brushing a grimy strand of hair from her eyes.
When she walked back into camp, a few more people were awake. Carol was crouched before the fire, albeit moving more stiffly than usual, searchfing or still-burning embers from last night. Maggie was simply staring at the freshly dug mound to her right, Glenn sitting on the log beside her, a reassuring hand on her shoulder...
She wordlessly approached, handing Maggie something quietly. It was a lock of blonde hair. She'd cut it, intending to remember Beth by it, and she'd tied off the ends and braided it in the hopes she'd never lose it.
The hair had already lost its shine, but Maggie stared at it for a moment, before burying her face in her hands and beginning to cry quietly.
She recoiled- she hadn't meant to upset her more. Glenn gave her a sympathetic look- he didn't blame her, but at the same time- there was nothing she could do to help.
So she turned, heading towards the church doors. The undead were still banging pretty loudly- she noticed one of the boards they'd used to bar the entrance had started to splinter and frowned.
She quietly jumped down from the stairs, so she was closer to camp.
"Abraham?" she called.
The large ginger turned to look at her solemnly.
"Can you come look at this? The door's starting t-"
"Jamie!"
Daryl's cry of warning came a second too late- she whirled, just in time for a walker to sink its teeth into her shoulder.
MAILBAG
Emilyrose727, Chapter 83
Hey, I began this awhile ago. I got all caught up, and then when some stuff started going on in my life I was forced to take a huge break.. It was beautify, so I remembered it. When I got my own account, I wouldn't stop looking for it. When I finally did find it, I was so glad and just started the whole thing over. It took me forever! I could barley pry my eyes from it. Now Im all caught up!
I really liked this chapter, you beautifully illustrated what Beths body looked like and how Jamie felt. THe interaction between her and Carl at the end of this chapter was touching. Ill stat caught up this time :)
Thanks for the feedback, and I'm glad you're enjoying it. It's alright if you guys can't stay completely up to date every hour of everyday- unfortunately, real life comes first. :(
Guest, Chapter 83
damn no update til February? i hope not i need this shit alright come up with your own shit but dont make me fucking wait until February for a god damn update.
sorry if it sounds angry just had a hard week
No! No WAY would I make you guys wait until February! However- updates might be slower, since I have to
a) get through the holidays and a major Taekwondo Tournament (the world games. I'll be up in Buffalo all week with my martial arts family :) )
b) formulate a plot and come up with my own stories since Kirkman decided to starve us for a few weeks, then edit said plot.
and c) sleep, as well as do my homework over the holiday. Sorry, but sleep is important!
Finally- I hope your week gets better. 3
Guest, Chapter 83
You are literally like my favorite person in the world . You write addicting fanfiction and you like MCR . I applaude you my friend. You rock ,I love the "the only hope"reference you through in there. Amazing! And when Jaime self harmed , and u were describing the blood (gallons of the stuff) it gave me chills. Love ya
Thanks my fellow Killjoy! ;). I was in a really depressed mood when I wrote that last chapter, and my mood coincided beautifully with what was happening to produce, in my opinion (and yours :)) that killer description during the emotional fallout of Beth's death.
Bellabear, Chapter 83
I really loved this chapter. The description of her death and the loss was really accurate and I-everything was just perfect. I wasn't that upset about Beth's death-I was like really sad, but I didn't cry. The worst part for me was Daryl and Maggie's faces. But readinf this I almost did. Dawn just snjeuehbajanejsismndjsnsns. Update ASAP
Yeah. Beth's whole arc was... stunning. I didn't really like her much in the beginning. Yes, I felt for her- her whole world turned upside down in season 2, attempting to slit her wrists. But she never really grew on me until she was with Daryl. She really grew up. From a scared, terrified girl desperate for attention in an awful world to a girl who knew she probably wouldn't survive much longer.
What really won me over was her ACCEPTANCE of everything. The way she understood that these days would probably be her last- and how, even though she knew, she still spent them trying to help Daryl overcome his past.
I loved her even more when she began to use Daryl's crossbow, because... it was so like something Jamie would do.
And then she was gone. And I watched her go from a mostly competent survivor to an incredible badass, who told the system to go fuck itself and jumped down an elevator shaft, into a hellish dungeon full of walkers. She SURVIVED that.
I don't know. I never loved her as much as Daryl- but I've never loved anyone as much as him, accept Jamie, possibly- and that's only because she's his daughter, an extension of him. When he's gone- she'll still be there, surviving and carrying on the Dixon name.
The point is- Daryl loved Beth like a daughter, and Beth died doing what she felt was right- saving Noah. I miss her some, but I'm glad she died a hero, instead of a bite victim. Glad she died for a REASON.
Still- I never felt anything more compelling than when Daryl killed Dawn- making sure that the woman who killed his baby girl wouldn't get away with it.
So. yeah- lots of emotion. Noah better be a fucking angel to prove that Beth did the right thing in saving him.
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