Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.
Thank you Nicole for working your wonderful magic on this chapter!
A/N: Barbara is referred to in chapter 3 (Rick's girlfriend…since Andrea is dead in the show).
...
Daryl burst through the doors of the med bay, gently lying Beth on the nearest cot while the doctor rushed around Morgan's bedside as soon as Dwight and his crew were out of the way. The world seemed to blur around him as the few nurses they had rushed about the room. The doctor on duty, Dr. Hudson, began barking out orders and Daryl felt a hand on his arm trying to gently escort him away from Beth's prone form. He jerked out of their grasp on instinct before he recognized the blonde standing in front of him.
"Daryl," Barbara breathed cautiously, reaching for his arm once more.
"I ain't leavin'," Daryl growled.
"You know that visitor's aren't allowed inside the med bay," the older blonde began, "We have to give them each a thorough examination, but you have to give us room to do so properly."
Daryl glanced between Barbara's dark, brown eyes and Beth's unconscious figure.
"You take care 'ah her," Daryl hissed, furrowing his brows and leaning forward into Barbara's personal space before adding, "Of both of 'em."
He knew Rick probably wouldn't appreciate him being so crass with his girlfriend, but at the moment, Daryl didn't care. Morgan was missing the lower half of his arm and Beth…he didn't even know what sort of injuries she may have sustained during the time they had been outside the walls.
"I promise I will do absolutely everything within my power to aid them," Barbara met his glare evenly, "Now shoo. Quicker you're outta' here, the quicker I can get to work checking her vitals."
Daryl took in Beth's form once more before he turned on his heel, exiting through the same doors he'd entered. As soon as he was out of the building, he marched in the direction Dwight had rushed off to after they had deposited Morgan on a vacant cot. If another herd was coming, they needed everyone they could spare along the south wall.
…
Daryl released the clip from his gun and reloaded it, pulling back the lever, and took aim at a walker coming into the clearing. They'd been there, knocking down one walker after another, for the past few hours. It didn't matter where anyone shot; as long as they aimed high enough they were bound to hit a walker in the head. It had been overwhelming at first, but once everyone focused their attention to defending the south wall, they slowly began making a dent in the massive number of dead bodies coming at them. What had once been a green pasture was now an ocean of twice dead corpses. As he was looking through his scope, he noticed a few walkers lingering in the woods, peering around the trunks of the larger trees.
"Dwight," he yelled, keeping his eyes trained on the walker in his sights.
"Yeah?" Dwight hollered after taking out another undead.
"Look in tha' woods, 'bout two o'clock," Daryl announced, giving him the general location he was focused on.
"What tha' hell?" Dwight hissed, adjusting his rifle on his shoulder.
"Sasha," Daryl called to his left, "You seein' this shit?"
"I've counted four of 'em out there so far," Sasha answered as she pulled the trigger.
"What d'you think their doin'?" Dwight questioned somberly.
"Whatever it is…it ain't good," Daryl replied when the walker moved behind the tree and out of his view.
"Beth said there were people in tha' woods, right?" Dwight asked next to him.
"They looked like walkers t'me," Sasha hollered over the sound of gunshots.
"Somethin' don't feel right," Daryl replied and shook his head, "She said there was people, but they didn't look like people."
"Smart walkers?" Dwight looked up from his scope, "If they start learnin' to climb walls and opens doors… we are royally fucked."
Daryl scanned the woods once more, unable to see anything but trees and shrubbery. He then stood from his hunched position and turned his attention to the overgrowth that clung to the walls.
"Dwight," Daryl waited until he had the man's full attention, "Get a few of tha' guys and start cuttin' down the vines. If there are people out there, that'd be an easy way t'climb the wall."
Dwight nodded, "You got it boss."
"Sasha," he turned to their resident sniper, "Don't let anyone out t'clear the bodies. We don't know what's goin' on out there."
"I'll keep a look out up here for a while," Sasha declared, never removing her eyes from the scope of her gun.
"You see anything, you send for me," Daryl requested firmly.
"Sure thing," Sasha replied and gave him a quick smile.
With Dwight busy fulfilling his request, Daryl turned back to the woods. He couldn't help feeling like there was someone out there, waiting, and watching their every move. There were only a few walkers left to pick off, but the massive amount of dead bodies scattered about the clearing was unsettling. They hadn't had a herd this big since the battle with Negan when the walls fell. Climbing down from the walkway along the top of the walls, he took a moment to settle his gaze on the community they had built.
No one seemed phased by the fact that the guards had just killed a seemingly infinite amount of walkers right outside their walls. Everyone was going about their business without a care in the world. There were women walking down the street, holding their children's hand, without so much as a knife to use to defend themselves. There were so many people living within their walls now that Daryl didn't recognize every face or know every name. The people of Alexandria had become complacent; weak. They were dependent upon Daryl, Dwight, Sasha, Rick, and everyone else to keep them safe.
Slowly ambling away from the wall, Daryl had one thought plaguing him. If there were people in the woods, attacking their patrols, how did they know where and when their people were going to be there? Have they been watching them long enough to know their routine? Or was there something more going on?
Suddenly, Alexandria didn't feel as secure as it had when he woke up that morning.
…
Pushing through the double doors to the medical facility, Daryl spotted Rick talking with Barbara in the lobby. Approaching the two, he felt a twinge of guilt for how he'd lashed out at the older blonde earlier in the med bay, but Barbara's welcoming smile told him that she felt no ill will towards his outburst.
"How is she?" Daryl asked Barbara as soon as he was standing in front of them.
"She's sleeping, but she'll be alright," Barbara answered with a smile.
His lips tilted ever so slightly, but fell as soon as he looked at Rick and remembered the importance of what he was about to discuss with their leader.
"Walkers taken care of?" Rick inquired, getting straight to business.
Daryl nodded, "Ate into 'ah couple dozen of boxes of ammunition, but we got 'em all."
"I'll get Eugene and his men workin' on makin' more," Rick answered and then asked, "How many you think there were?"
"If I's guessin?" Daryl tilted his chin up in thought, "I'd say at least 'ah thousand. Probably more. It was like shootin' fish in 'ah barrel."
"That's the biggest herd we've had in three years," Rick ran a hand through his curly hair.
"No shit," Daryl huffed, "but there's somethin' else."
Rick furrowed his brows expectantly.
"Few of tha' walkers," Daryl bit at his lower lip, "they stayed behind in tha' woods."
"What's so strange 'bout that?" Barbara inquired innocently.
"They were usin' the trees for cover," Daryl explained, "I even caught one of them peerin' around the tree; watchin' us."
"You're sure?" Rick's tone dropped several octaves.
"As sure as a squirrel's shit is nutty," Daryl replied gravely.
Rick ran a hand down his face.
"So were they actually walkers?" Barbara seemed to grasp the severity of Daryl's claim.
"They looked it," Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, "I honestly have no idea what it was we saw. Jus' know whatever it is…it's not good for us."
"No. No it's not," Rick said as he tightened his jaw and squinted his eyes towards the double doors, "I'll get Dwight to keep four men on the walls at all times, 'til we get this sorted out."
Daryl nodded in agreement, "Sasha's keepin' watch at the moment. I told her not t'let anyone out to clear the bodies."
"Good call," Rick murmured and crossed his arms over his chest, still gazing towards the doors, "I'm gonna' get on the radio. Maggie said they didn't have any problems makin' it home, but if we got walkers actin' smart, they need to be on their guard. I'll see if I can get through to Ezekiel too. The Kingdom's been on radio silence the past few days."
"I'm worried about them," Barbara added softly, "It's not like Ezekiel or Michonne to not touch base with us for so long."
"Think somethin' happened?" Daryl inquired swiftly.
Rick tilted his head to the side for a moment before turning his gaze back to Daryl, "I dunno', but I intend t'find out."
There were voices coming from the med bay, immediately catching Daryl's attention, as his head whipped towards the door.
"Go ahead," Rick patted him on the shoulder, "You've done your part. I'll take care 'ah the rest."
Daryl glanced back at Rick, nodding a few times, before acknowledging Barbara and walking through the door into the exam room.
Upon entering the room, he immediately found Beth. She'd been cleaned up, now wearing a fresh set of clothes, and looked much more alive than when she'd collapsed in his arms covered in walker blood. His eyes were drawn to her right wrist, covered in a tan colored bandage, and felt a wave of déjà vu. Three years ago, when he'd finally managed to reunite with her at Grady Memorial, she'd had a cast on her arm. He remembered wondering what had happened to her, as he gripped her shoulder and pulled her to safety, but he never had the chance to ask her. She'd been taken from him before he had the chance to even say anything to her. Lost in thought, he absently let his fingers run across the course material, jerking back as if he'd been burned when the rough fabric turned into the soft, warm skin of her fingers. Holding his breath, waiting to see if he'd disturbed her, Daryl took a step back when Beth continued slumbering unperturbed.
Scanning the room, he then noticed the curtains were drawn around the cot where Dwight and his men had laid Morgan. Walking over to the white cloth, his heart hammering in his chest, he pulled the material back far enough to see the man sleeping soundly in his cot. Heaving a sigh of relief, he let the curtain fall back into place. Daryl looked around for Dr. Hudson, but failed to see the younger, black man anywhere in the room. Noticing a light on in one of the back offices, he let his eyes drift back to Beth, taking in the steady rise and fall of her chest, and then moved to the back of the room and rapped his knuckles against the cold, steel door.
"It's open," a male voice answered from within.
Daryl opened the door and found the man he he'd been looking for.
"Mr. Dixon," Dr. Hudson greeted him in a welcoming tone, "How can I help you?"
"Hey doc," Daryl replied, ignoring the formality, "I's just comin' to check on Beth and Morgan."
"Ah, yes," Dr. Hudson replied, standing from his chair, "Their charts are in here."
Daryl moved aside to allow the doctor through the doorway and followed him back into the exam room. He hadn't had much to do with the young doctor, only seeing him a few times when he'd been injured severely enough to justify needing treatment, but held the man in high regard. When Rick had taken over after the war with Negan had been won, they'd gone through the files for the all residents, getting familiar with names and faces and what each resident had to offer.
Daryl had read that Grant Hudson had been in his second year of medical school at John Hopkins University when the outbreak occurred. He and his roommate had been evacuated to a safe zone, but when the military never returned and they began running out of food, he and his friend decided to try to make it back to Florida to reunite with Hudson's family. A few months into the apocalypse, after his roommate had been devoured by the dead, he'd come across the Alexandria Safe Zone. He'd decided to stay, knowing firsthand how dangerous the world had become and that he would never make it home on his own, and was immediately put to use finishing his education under the other residing doctors. Runners had attempted to find his family, to escort them to Alexandria, but there hadn't even been enough left of his family to bring back for a proper burial. Just like so many others, he'd lost everything to the apocalypse.
"Let's see," Dr. Hudson picked up Beth's chart from the end of her bed and began flipping through the pages, "Carpal sprain to her right wrist, penetrating abdominal trauma to her lower, left side via gunshot wound-"
"She was shot?" Daryl hissed.
"It was a through and through from what we could tell on the x-rays," Dr. Hudson answered, looking up from reading the chart, "There wasn't any damage to her major organs and she should have bled out, but from the looks of the burned tissue on her abdomen, they managed to cauterize the wound."
Daryl grit is teeth together.
"She also has some superficial wounds to the arms and face. We had to give her a blood transfusion, using Type O since we weren't sure what her type is, but other than that she seems to be fine. Nothing life threatening as long as she doesn't get an infection," Dr. Hudson finished.
Daryl crossed his arms over his chest and worked his bottom lip between his teeth.
Beth had been shot. Someone out there, in the woods, had shot her and he had no idea where to even begin looking for them. There had been no way for him to distinguish if any of the blood on her actually belonged to her. She had been covered in drying blood, dirt, and debris from the woods, but she hadn't appeared to be in any pain. She'd been able to drag an unconscious Morgan, who was twice her size, and was completely exhausted, but in pain? Adrenaline was a factor, as Daryl had heard of people being able to do all sorts of superhuman things when the hormone rushed a person's system, but could it have lasted long enough for her to get them back to Alexandria from however far away they had been?
"She woke up asking for Morgan," Dr. Hudson's voice broke his thoughts, "and you."
"Me?" Daryl's eyes flashed up to the doctor, "What'd she say?"
"She was a bit frantic so we couldn't make out much. It just sounded like gibberish really," Dr. Hudson explained, "Something about people, but not people? We tried to get her to calm down, that she needed to lie still so we could finish our examination, but she just kept saying she had to speak with you. I had no choice but to give her a sedative so we could address her wounds. She should be waking up soon."
Daryl nodded and looked back to Beth.
"She's a fighter," Daryl could hear a hint of admiration in the doctor's voice, "She'd lost quite a bit of blood and though it's impossible to tell, I suspect she sustained her gunshot wound early on from the amount of inflation and blistering around the injury. The amount of fluid around her wrist suggests it was sprained prior to today's events."
"She never said nothin' about it," Daryl looked down to the blonde lying in the cot before them.
"The pain from her abdomen alone should have been debilitating. Yet, even with the severity of her wounds, she still managed to get herself and her friend back to the walls. Since we know that both of Morgan's limbs were attached upon departure, I can only assume he was bitten outside the walls, in which Beth amputated and cauterized his stub," the doctor continued his appraisal, "She saved his life. Most people, whose companion was in such a state as Morgan, would have just left them behind. It's comforting to know that there are still good people in the world."
"She is good," Daryl agreed, "always has been."
"Well, I'd better get back to filling out my reports," Dr. Hudson said after a moment, patting him on the shoulder as he went.
"Thanks doc," Daryl murmured, never taking his eyes off Beth.
"Oh, there was one thing I did find a bit odd," Dr. Hudson declared, turning back to Daryl, "When she woke up, Barbara asked her if she was in pain, and Beth said no. We offered her painkillers, but she vehemently refused to take them. She might have still had some adrenaline running through her system, numbing the pain, but she was adamant about us not giving her any pain medication."
"You give 'em to her anyway?" Daryl asked while looking over his shoulder at the younger man.
"No," the doctor shook his head, "She didn't appear to be in any sort of physical pain, despite everything, and I wasn't sure if she had an allergy. We'll check with her again when she wakes up and assess her condition."
Daryl nodded, but made no response.
Grabbing one of the plastic chairs lining the far wall, Daryl set it beside Beth's cot and took a seat. He glanced over at the sheet separating Morgan from the rest of the room and then turned back to Beth. She looked serene, as if she was just taking an afternoon nap, and not like a person who'd survived a trek through the woods after being shot and amputating her father-figures arm.
Beth was a sort of an enigma to him. She was so similar to the Beth he had grown close to at the mortuary and yet she carried this air of mystery about her. She had told him next to nothing about herself, other than how important Morgan was to her and some of what they'd been through, but she hadn't shared anything too personal. He knew Beth Greene's favorite color, song, most embarrassing moment, food, animal, and even when she'd had her first kiss. However, none of those applied to this Beth.
Adjusting in his seat, attempting to get comfortable, Daryl prepared to watch over Beth's sleeping form for as long as it took for her to wake up. He'd given her space, trying to let her adjust to life in Alexandria the same way he'd had to, but after seeing those walkers in the woods and talking to the doctor, that was no longer an option. He had questions and she was the only one who could answer them.
…
Beth's eyes fluttered open and she was immediately greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. She blinked, trying to clear the grogginess still plaguing her, and ran her hands over a soft, textured material. Lifting her head, she recognized that she was in a bed and that her wrist was wrapped tightly with a bandage, but she had no recollection of climbing into the bed or wrapping her hand. Feeling a surge of unease, she bolted upright in her bed.
"Evenin' sleepyhead," a rough voice sounded next to her.
Whipping her head in the voice's direction, she was surprised to find Daryl to be sitting in a chair next to her bed.
"You shouldn't be sittin' up without support," Daryl stated while pressing the button on the side of her bed and lifting the mattress until it pressed against her back.
Beth's thoughts were still slow and she had a horrible taste in her mouth. Her throat was dry and she couldn't seem to get her voice to cooperate with her thoughts.
"Lemme' go get the doc," he stood from his chair and her eyes followed him languidly, "I'll be right back."
Nodding dumbly, she forced her eyes to focus on the set of wings that adorned his back.
Trying to gather her wits about her, she lifted her unbandage hand and ran her fingers up her forehead and into her hair, tossing it to the side haphazardly.
"Beth?" A younger black man that she didn't recognize called her name.
She didn't respond as her eyes slowly danced between the man dressed in a white coat and Daryl, who was reclaiming his seat next to her.
"I'm Doctor Hudson," the man extended his hand, "but you can call me Grant."
Beth remained still and furrowed her brows at his hand.
Clearing his throat, the doctor retracted his hand, "I'm the doctor overseeing your care today."
Beth opened her mouth as if to speak, her tongue feeling like sandpaper as she licked her lips, and she reached up to rub her throat.
"Here," Daryl offered her a glass of water.
Beth accepted it, taking a sip before greedily drinking the rest.
"The lethargy and dry mouth are side effects of the sedative you were given," Dr. Hudson announced, "They should wear off in time."
"Sedative?" Beth croaked hoarsely.
"Yes. Do you remember anything that happened to you?" The doctor inquired apprehensively.
Beth placed her hand on her side, feeling the protrusion of her bandage under her clothing, and her vision blurred as memories of the previous day came rushing back to her.
"It wasn't 'ah dream…," her voice came out steadier.
"I'm sorry?" Dr. Hudson said beside her.
"Morgan," her eyes shot up to Daryl as she began trying to scramble out of the bed, "Where's Morgan?"
"He's fine," Daryl rose out of his chair and placed his hands on her shoulders, "He's sleepin' behind that curtain over there. He's fine. I promise."
Beth exhaled shakily, tears prickling her eyes, and she buried her face in her hands.
"Doc," she heard Daryl say, "Can you give us 'ah minute?"
"Sure," Dr. Hudson responded, "I'll be in my office. Just come and get me when she's feeling up to a post examination."
Footsteps sounded and the moment she heard the door click shut, she let out a quiet sob.
Daryl's hands slid away from her shoulders and she felt the bed dip beside her. She felt hot tears slip from her eyes and pool into her palms. This would be about the time that Morgan would pat her back, maybe rub soothing circles if she was really upset, but he wasn't even conscious to know that she was crying. Another sob escaped her, louder this time, and she couldn't suppress the shuddering breath that shook her form afterwards.
She felt strong arms, the same strong arms that had caught her as she collapsed outside of the wall, gather her up and pull her close. She lowered her hands, fisting them in Daryl's flannel shirt, and cried into his shoulder. He didn't whisper soothing words or make empty promises; he just held her and let her cry. It was probably the most intimate position she'd ever been in with someone and she had never felt more comforted than in this moment. When her sobs turned into breathy hiccups and tears stopped pouring from her eyes, she pulled away, keeping her face hid from his view behind her hair.
"I got your shirt wet," she whispered.
"S'okay," he replied, "It needed 'ah wash."
She let out a watery laugh and wiped her cheeks with her fingertips.
"You gonna' be okay?" He asked cautiously.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded, and then lifted her head to meet his stare, "How big was tha' herd?"
"Biggest we've had in 'ah few years," Daryl admitted.
"Shit," Beth hissed, "They brought them here."
"Who?" Daryl creased his brows together.
"You see any walkers actin' weird? Maybe they moved too quickly…or they didn't seem to flow with the rest of the herd?" Beth asked firmly.
"There were a few that hung towards the back of the herd, stayed in tha' woods. Even caught one of them peekin' around a tree, jus' watching us," Daryl answered without hesitation.
"What're they doin' so far from the river?" Beth murmured more to herself than him.
"Who are they?" Daryl reiterated his question.
"They call themselves The Whisperers," Beth replied quietly.
Daryl watched her as she leaned back on her mattress, "Are they people?"
"They used to be. Not anymore," she continued, "They're vicious, ruthless, an' you'll never know they're there until it's too late. They wear a walker's skin over their faces like a mask, dress in their clothes to cover their scent, and use tha' herds as a sort of camouflage. The dead are one of tha' biggest threats we face. If you turn into what is most feared, then you become the safest from them."
"That's some Leatherface shit right there," Daryl remarked, "And they were able to control 'ah herd of walkers?"
"They don't control them…more like guide 'em," Beth clarified, "Walkers are attracted t'sound, smell even, but they just wander around aimlessly otherwise. With enough people dressed as corpses leading tha' way, the rest are bound t'follow."
"How tha' hell do you know so much about these assholes?" Daryl questioned incredulously.
Beth glanced over to the curtain drawn around where Daryl had said Morgan was sleeping. She knew that if he were awake, Morgan would be explaining everything, and he would expect her to do the same.
"About 'ah year ago, Morgan wanted t'make a trip through Virginia. We were slowly makin' our way to D.C. by that point and there was this community that he wanted t'check into. The gates were wide open when we got there and walkers had taken over tha' place," Beth summarized, leaving out details that weren't hers to share, "We kept goin' and eventually came across a camp. I stayed back while Morgan traded 'ah few things. When he had finished, we got back on tha' road, and he told me the man had warned him t'stay out away from the Port Royal area. Morgan said the man had told him there were 'walkers acting different' seen 'round there."
Daryl lifted one of his knees up onto the bed and rubbed his chin as he waited for her to continue.
"We should've listened," Beth looked down at her fingers, picking at her short, chipped nails distractedly, "Morgan thought the guy was either tryin' to set us up or he was paranoid. We'd handled more than our fair share 'ah walkers and Morgan said Port Royal wasn't much of 'ah town. Just a few restaurants and 'ah museum from what he could remember. He didn't think we'd have any problem skirtin' around tha' edge of town."
"What happened?" Daryl asked when she hesitated.
"Walkers were everywhere. We had no problem avoidin' them at first. We stayed just outside of town, away from the larger masses an' took out the strays that brought attention to us. We were almost t'the river when we noticed a few of 'em were actin' strange. They looked too healthy for how decomposed their faces were, their stagger was too unnatural, and they were watchin' us. They actually saw us," Beth grit her teeth together, "It was just like that old man had said. They didn't move with tha' herd, they were agile, hidin' from view when we tried to get a good look at them, and they always stayed at a safe distance behind us. It didn't matter how quietly we walked, how quickly we moved, they jus' kept…stalking us."
They sat in silence. Daryl stood from the bed and began pacing. Knowing he was still listening, Beth finished her story.
"It was when we were able t'finally see them up close, as they cornered us at tha' bridge, that we realized they were people. We were so busy watchin' the ones behind us; we never noticed the ones situatin' themselves in front of tha' bridge. We fought our way towards the riverbank and had t'swim across. I dunno' how many of them we killed tryin' to get away, but not all the corpses we took down were undead. They may have looked like walkers, but they fought like people," Beth exhaled tiredly, "Morgan took 'ah machete to the side and my shoulder had been dislocated when they'd tried t'yank my brace off my arm. We had t'hold up in an apartment building outside of Fredericksburg so I could stitch up Morgan's side an' we could get some rest. We thought we'd left them behind, but a couple 'ah weeks later, three of them were killed in some of the traps I'd set in tha' building. We left that night, traveled around West Virginia for a while before we bumped into Alex and Anna and learned about Alexandria."
"You ever run into 'em after that?" Daryl inquired while pacing in front of her bed.
"Twice," Beth replied honestly, "We thought we'd lost them, but if they're here..."
"I need t'let Rick and Dwight know what's goin' on," Daryl stopped at the foot of her cot and placed his hands on the metal railing.
Beth nodded.
Her eyes felt dry from all the tears she'd shed and she was still groggy from the sedative, but that didn't stop her from worrying. If The Whisperers were at Alexandria, it was because she and Morgan had led them here.
"This ain't your fault Beth," Daryl said, leaning forward to meet her eye level, "They might've come this way eventually anyhow and we would've had t'deal with them regardless."
Beth nodded again, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.
"There's one other thing," she breathed.
"Yeah?" Daryl repsonded.
"They whispered something t'me," she revealed steadily, "in tha' woods after I'd been shot."
"What'd they say?" Daryl questioned earnestly.
"They asked…," she exhaled slowly, "They asked if me an' Morgan had gotten their message. They said they left us a message…'hangin' in a tree.'"
"Son of 'ah bitch," Daryl stood and rubbed a hand over his face.
"What?" Beth looked up at him, "Do you know what they meant?"
Daryl nodded and sighed, "We found Byron. The guy who patrolled tha' roads you two were coverin'."
"You found him?" Beth inquired and raised a brow expectantly.
"Yeah," Daryl placed his hands on his hips and stared at the floor, "We found him 'bout eight miles out…hangin' in 'ah tree."
"Then Byron's dead…because of us," Beth murmured.
"No," Daryl's head shot up, "Byron's dead because of them."
Beth nodded, but she couldn't convince herself to believe him.
"We'll handle these guys," Daryl moved around the bed to stand beside her, "We've faced worse and came through alright."
Beth didn't reply. She had seen what The Whisperers were capable of and knew that Daryl and his group had never come across anything like them. They feared nothing. They wouldn't care of they had walls and guns because they had the dead to protect them. They only had so many bullets and the number of walkers roaming the earth increased every day.
"Can I ask you somethin'?" Daryl's question broke her thoughts.
"Sure," she replied while looking up at him.
"The doc said you didn't want them t'give you painkillers," Daryl stated, "Why?"
Beth ran her uninjured hand through her hair, pulling it around one of her shoulders, "Would've been a waste on me."
"Not if you're in pain," Daryl argued, "We may have limited supplies, but you got shot. If you need-"
"I'm not in pain," Beth cut him off, "I've never felt pain…not since I woke up three years ago."
Daryl furrowed his brows.
"It's not so bad," Beth shrugged her shoulders, "I may not be able to tell when I'm injured, but I've seen Morgan in pain. I'm glad I don't have to deal with all that."
Daryl continued to stare at her before eventually clearing his throat, "Pain is what tells us somethin's wrong."
"Morgan said the same thing," Beth sighed, faintly smiling for the first time since she'd woken up in the med bay, "but it's because I can't feel pain that I was able t'get us back here."
"I s'pose you're right," Daryl said after a few moments.
"Usually am," she hummed while her smile widened.
Daryl let out a throaty chuckle and ducked his head, "Yeah. Guess so."
Their laughter eventually faded into silence and the look Daryl gave her when their eyes met made her take a deep breath. It was the same sort of hopeful look he had given her at the gates the first day they'd met. It made her heart swell and ache all at the same time.
"I, uh…," Daryl scratched the back of his head, "I'm glad you made it back."
"Me too," Beth answered genuinely.
"I'd better go let Rick know what's goin' on," Daryl dropped his arm back to his side.
"'Kay," Beth replied.
"I'll come back by later an' check on ya'," he added.
"I'll be here," she answered with a smile.
Daryl gave her a smirk of his own and then turned to leave.
He made it two steps before he stopped and turned around, making her give him a questioning look. He glanced towards the door and then back at her.
"Daryl?" She murmured his name as she sat up in the bed.
She could see the muscles of his jaw tighten at the sound of her voice, but he didn't reply.
Just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, he strode over to her bed, and Beth instinctively looked up at him. She felt his breath ghost across her forehead before the warmth of his lips pressed against the skin above her brows. It only lasted a second before he straightened and bolted out of the room without an explanation.
Beth tentatively lifted her injured hand and brought her fingers to her forehead, brushing them across the skin Daryl had just caressed. Falling back against the bed, she wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened. She'd always felt closer to Daryl than she had with anyone else in Alexandria, but whatever had just happened between them confirmed Beth's suspicions to her unanswered question on Sherry's roof all those weeks ago.
She blinked slowly, the remaining traces of the sedative she'd been given making it hard to keep her eyes open, as she fought to stay awake. Morgan was safe for the moment, she'd informed Daryl of the dangers waiting for them in the woods, and knowing she needed rest to recuperate from the wounds she couldn't feel, Beth closed her eyes. She could still feel tingling sensation on her skin from where Daryl had pressed his lips even as sleep claimed her.
Even if she couldn't remember, there had definitely been something between her and Daryl.
...
A/N: I decided that if everyone living in Alexandria has a job, making Barbara a nurse would flow with the content of this chapter while also incorporating her back into the story.
Dr. Grant Hudson is an original character (for any of my comic guru's). I searched all over for who was the current doctor in Alexandria (post Negan war) and came up with nothing. So I decided to keep the number of doctors ambiguous and just say he's 'one of them.'
The 'Leatherface' comment Daryl makes is in reference to Ed Gein, a murderer from Wisconsin during the 1950's, who exhumed bodies from graveyards around his hometown (also killing two known victims) and flayed the skin from their bodies. He then wore the skin of his victims around his home. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Leatherface) was influenced by the actual events performed by Ed Gein.
I know The Whisperers are introduced differently in the comics, but like I said, I had created my own bad guys and they were far too similar to Kirkman's for me to be able to claim creative rights. So I decided to merge them, keeping my backstory and a few original details, while using the concept Kirkman created. I went with Morgan and Beth having a run in with them because I refuse to believe that in all the time that Morgan has been alone, he hasn't run into trouble. Rick and his group have faced The Governor, Joe's Group (though not the whole family was involved with that group), Terminus, and Grady. I felt it would be a cool twist to have The Whisperers after Morgan and Beth instead of just introducing a 'new bad guy.' Beth getting caught in the herd the first time was merely coincidence, but they were definitely the targets in this last attack.