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 finding all my little mistakes and fixing them! You're the best! : )
...
Daryl leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes observing Rick and Dwight as they processed everything that he had revealed to them from his conversation with Beth in the med bay, and waited as they fully grasped the severity of their situation. They'd all come across some terrible individuals; the Governor, Joe's group, cannibals at Terminus, Grady, the Wolves, and Negan. The former leader of the Saviors had been the worse by far, but none of them compared to these…people? Were they still people? Had they gone to the extent of the Termites; eating human flesh along with the walkers in order to keep their façade? Other than their disguise, they had made no attempt to hide their presence, which either made them careless…or fearless. Add the fact that they were capable of steering the walking dead in whichever direction they wanted made these people absolutely terrifying.
"So these…things have been followin' Beth and Morgan for about 'ah year?" Dwight questioned.
"I think it's been longer than that," Rick stated from where he sat in his cushioned chair.
"What d'you mean?" Daryl pushed off the wall and approached Rick's desk.
"I can't be sure," Rick tapped the end of his ballpoint pen against his wooden desk, "We'll talk with Morgan when he wakes up. See what he can tell us."
Daryl noted the way Rick used when and not if.
"These guys must either be unbelievably stealthy or lucky as fuck to have kept runnin' into the pair of them," Dwight slumped back into his chair with a huff.
"Beth said they're good at blendin' in," Daryl reiterated, "I'd say it's safe t'assume dressin' up like those geeks aren't tha' only way these bastards get around."
"Please tell me you're not sayin' what I think you're sayin'," Dwight slung his arm over the back of his chair and rolled his eyes despairingly.
"Doc said there was 'ah slight downward trajectory to Beth's wound," Rick added evenly, "If she was on 'ah horse like she says, they had to of been hidin' in the trees above when they shot her."
"This just gets better and better," Dwight dragged a hand down his face, ""I knew those assholes we saw in tha' woods earlier were gonna' be bad news."
"For now," Rick rose from his seat and glanced between Daryl and Dwight, "No one leaves Alexandria's walls. For any reason."
"We gonna' leave the roads unpatrolled?" Dwight suggested.
"Well we sure as hell ain't sendin' anyone else out there t'die," Daryl grumbled.
"Yeah. We'll just have to re-clear them after all this blows over," Rick affirmed, "I want to double up on guards along tha' perimeter. Everyone that would be patrolling the roads are t'take shifts along the walls. Break 'em up at you see fit, but I want at least ten men along each walkway."
"I'll work it out as soon as we get done here," Dwight acknowledged.
"I'll send word to Hilltop and let them know what's goin' on," Rick continued, "We still haven't heard anything from The Kingdom, but I'll try sending them a message too."
"What're we gonna' do if we don't hear back from 'em?" Daryl asked from where he stood in front of Rick's desk.
"Nothin'," Rick dropped his head, "For all we know, these Whisperers have already gotten' to them."
"Won't know unless we check," Daryl countered and then offered, "I could go on my bike."
Rick looked up and narrowed his eyes at Daryl, "Alright, but let's wait 'ah few days. See if these people pull any sort of stunts now that we know they're out there."
Daryl nodded in agreement.
"So we keepin' this quiet or you want us t'spread the word around the community?" Dwight inquired as he stood from his seat and dusted off his pants.
"Let's keep it between us for now," Rick declared, "We don't know what we're up against yet and there's no reason t'make people panic until we have 'ah reason."
"I'll let Beth know," Daryl stated quietly.
"Alright," Dwight breathed, "I'll drop by Sherry's office and grab the list of our outer wall patrols. Get 'em set up along the wall."
"Have Sasha come by my office when you get there," Rick requested, "She saw them too. I wanna' make sure she knows to stay quiet about it and to pay extra attention while she's on lookout."
"What're we sayin' when people start askin' what's goin' on?" Daryl's question stopped Dwight in his tracks.
"The truth," Rick said after a moment of thought, "That we don't know what's goin' on and we're taking all tha' proper precautions to keep our people safe."
"Sounds good," Dwight accepted and continued towards the door.
Daryl gave Rick a nod and exited the room behind his right hand man.
Walking around Dwight, who had stopped at Sherry's desk, Daryl gave her a quick smile and pushed open the swinging door. Once outside of the building, Daryl placed his hands on his hips and scuffed his boot against the wooden porch. As much as he wished they could avoid any confrontation with these people, he knew it was only a matter of time before they became aware of what The Whisperers had planned for them. He just hoped that by the time they figured it out, that it wouldn't be too late. This was his home, these were his people, and he'd be damned if he didn't put up a fight to protect Alexandria.
…
Walking into the lobby of the medical center, Daryl was surprised to see Carol and his Lil' Asskicker exiting the med bay. Upon seeing him, Judith immediately let go of Carol's hand, and charged at Daryl. He couldn't keep from chuckling as the young girl's long, reddish-brown pigtails bounced with each step she took. When she was within reach he scooped her up, tossing her up in the air, before catching her and placing her on his hip.
"What brings you two here?" Daryl asked Judith, who smiled in return.
"We were visiting Beth," the child replied excitedly.
"That so?" Daryl exaggerated his tone to feign surprise, "How is she?"
"She said she'll be all better in 'ah few days," Judith recited and then added, "Momma B is gonna' take good care of her."
"Course she will," Daryl agreed with a smirk.
"Judy," Carol said next to them, "Why don't you have a seat and let me talk to Uncle Daryl for just a minute."
"'Kay," Judith replied, planting a kiss on Daryl's cheek as he lowered her to the ground and danced across the floor to a waiting room chair.
When Judith was out of earshot, Daryl turned back to Carol.
"Well?" He whispered, "How's she really doin'?"
"She's banged up pretty bad, but you'd never know it from how she's acting," Carol glanced back to the med bay doors, "It's like she doesn't even feel any of it."
Daryl grunted and changed the subject, "Morgan wake up yet?"
Carol shook her head, "He lost a lot of blood. He's gotten a slight fever so Dr. Hudson strapped down his arm and feet as a precaution."
"Ain't no need for that shit," Daryl hissed, "He would've already turned by now if he was gonna'."
"We're just taking precautions," Carol soothed, reaching a hand out to squeeze his bicep.
Daryl grit his teeth, but agreed nonetheless.
"We all care about Beth. We're looking out for her just as much as everyone else here," Carol continued, "She's in no condition to fight off a walker right now, let alone if that walker was Morgan."
"Yeah…," Daryl huffed, his eyes wandering over to Judith, "I know."
He was aware that there was no definitive 'time limit' for how long it took someone to turn. The virus affected everyone differently. Some people became debilitatingly sick while others just appeared to have a common cold. Some people turned within hours of being bit while others took days for their body to finally give out. No matter the case, the end result was always the same; they always died and reanimated as a flesh eating monster.
"I know she's important to you, which makes Morgan important to you too because of how much she cares about him, but we've got to be careful," Carol gave his arm one more squeeze before letting go, "We don't know if she amputated his arm fast enough to stop the virus from reacting throughout the rest of his body or if he's just fighting off an infection. It's better this way."
Daryl glared down at the floor and managed a weak nod.
"Aunt Carol?" Judith's soft voice sounded from across the room, "I'm hungry."
"Alright sweetie, we'll go in just a sec," Carol smiled towards the young girl before looking back to Daryl, "I'm keeping Judith while Barbara picks up an extra shift. Seems to me like she feels personally responsible for taking care of Beth and Morgan. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Carol's pointed look made Daryl avert his gaze.
"Come'on Judith," Carol motioned with her hand, "Tell Uncle Daryl bye and we'll go get you some fresh muffins at the bakery. How does that sound?"
Judith was out of her seat and squeezing her tiny arms around Daryl's leg before Carol had even finished her sentence.
Reaching down, Daryl ruffled the girl's hair, "See ya' later squirt."
Judith took Carol's hand and waved goodbye as they walked towards the exit.
Daryl took a step towards the med bay doors, but stopped when Carol called out to him.
"Oh and Daryl," the glint in her eyes had him swallowing air, "Beth was acting a bit distraught when we came to check on her. Barbara and I were concerned so we sat down and coaxed her to tell us what had her so flustered."
Daryl brought a hand up to rub the back his neck, trying to suppress the warm sensation he felt crawling up his skin.
"I never pegged you for a 'kiss on the forehead' kind of guy," Carol finished, giving him a wink, and sauntered out the door.
Taking a moment to regain his composure, he pushed through the doors of the med bay. The curtains were drawn around Beth's cot, but he could hear two feminine voices conversing behind the thick material.
"We can get your height and weight on the scale when Dr. Hudson deems you fit to move around, but can you at least tell me your middle name?" A familiar voice asked.
"I just learned my last name was Greene a little over 'ah month ago," he heard Beth's distinct voice reply, "You honestly think I can help you answer any of these questions?"
Pushing the curtain to the side, Daryl found Barbara standing next to Beth's bed with a clipboard in hand.
"Her middle name's Ann," he answered gruffly.
He felt Beth's gaze roaming over his form, immediately feeling the heat return to the back of his neck, but kept his focus on Barbara. The older woman was fighting back a smile, which made an already awkward situation even more so.
Regaining a professional tone, the blonde nurse quickly moved back to the top of the paper she'd been reading from, "Do you know Beth's date of birth?"
"August fifteenth," Daryl replied and sat in the chair still placed next to the bed, "and whatever year would make her twenty-two."
"Any significant family history I need to record?" Barbara asked while scribbling on the paper.
"You'd have t'ask Maggie that one," Daryl shrugged his shoulders, "None that I know of though."
"Has she ever been outside of the United States?" Barbara glanced up at him.
"Not that I can recall," Daryl shook his head.
"Smoke?" Barbara continued down the list.
Daryl shook his head again.
"Drink?" She asked in an exhale.
Daryl smirked, "Once."
"Has she ever been pregnant?" Barbara inquired casually.
Daryl glanced at Beth who raised an eyebrow expectantly.
Clearing his throat and adjusting himself in his seat, he answered with a quick, "No."
"Any surgeries or prior health concerns?" The nurse articulated steadily.
"She, uh…" Daryl watched Beth out of the corner of his eye, "There was 'ah suicide attempt when she was sixteen."
Daryl noticed the way Beth's injured hand covered her left wrist.
"I see," Barbara remained professional, "Anything else?"
Daryl thought for a moment before responding, "When we found her at Grady, she had 'ah cast on her hand. Same one that's wrapped now."
"Alrighty," Barbara made a show of marking a period on the page, "that's all the important ones. I'll get on the radio and have Maggie fill in the rest of the blanks."
"'Kay," Daryl nodded.
"You be sure an get some rest and I'll let you know if anything changes with Morgan," Barbara stated as she moved to the curtain aside.
"Thanks," Beth gave her a small smile and then turned her attention to Daryl, "You know? It's really weird havin' someone else who is able t'answer all my personal history questions. Especially since the only answer I knew was 'what is your first an' last name.'"
"Everything I know is 'cause I was either there or you told me," Daryl leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees.
Beth's eyes danced over his face as he let his own absorb how exhausted she looked.
"How ya' feelin'?" He asked gently.
Beth huffed, "I feel like I do any other day; totally fine."
"You really can't feel any pain?" Daryl asked skeptically.
"Nope," Beth brushed her hands over her sheets in an effort to smooth out the wrinkles, "I really can't."
"If you don't feel it," he furrowed his brows, "then how do you know when yer' hurt?"
"Morgan usually makes 'ah big show of pointing out that I'm bleeding…again," her lips formed a fond smile only to drop a moment later, "but unless I see bruises or blood, I have no way of tellin' if I've been injured or not."
Daryl filed away this important bit of information and a heavy silence fell between them.
He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. They hadn't really had the chance to talk about what all she'd endured during her travels with Morgan or what it had been like for her when she had first healed from her wound, but most of all, he wanted to ask her about The Whisperers. She was the only person, besides Morgan, who knew anything about these people and the more Daryl could learn about them, the more he could protect his people from them.
"A little bird told me we're gonna' have matchin' scars," Beth's tired voice regained his attention.
"That so?" Daryl tried to sound lighthearted, but knew he failed.
She lifted her uninjured hand and pointed from her side to his.
"Carol told ya' the story 'bout Nervous Nelly huh?" He chuckled genuinely.
"Yeah," she smiled wearily, "She said it wasn't funny at tha' time, but now it's one of the best stories she's got on ya'."
"Yeah, well," Daryl ran a hand through his shaggy hair, "horses ain't really my thing."
"I'll have t'remember that," she hummed while lifting her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.
He knew he should leave and let her rest, but he still needed fill her in on what Rick had discussed with them in his office. Deciding to keep the conversation as short as possible, he rose from his chair and placed it against the wall beside her bed.
"Rick's contactin' Hilltop and The Kingdom to let them know what's goin' on here," Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Good," Beth murmured, "If The Whisperers are here, I'm sure they've already scoped out tha' other communities."
"We're gonna' be on lockdown for 'ah while. No one's allowed t'leave the walls until we figure out what they're up to," Daryl explained quietly.
Beth remained silent and stared blankly in front of her.
"Rick wants us to keep quiet about The Whisperers fer' now," he continued when she made no attempt to reply, "We're gonna' talk t'Morgan when he wakes up. See if we can come up with a plan t'handle this without losin' any more of our people."
"You have no idea what those things are capable of," Beth glared down at the foot of her bed and took a shaky breath.
"I told ya' we'd take care of these people," Daryl took a hesitant step closer, "and we will."
"They're not people," Beth glared up at him, "and they're not walkers. They're somethin' else entirely."
Daryl chewed on the inside of his lip, unsure of how to reply.
"Any strategy you think of isn't gonna' work," she continued, "They're not afraid of anything. They're smart. They're able to blend in anywhere and I can almost guarantee you that they know how everything works here."
"What's that's s'pose to mean?" Daryl's eyes narrowed with the sharpness of his tone.
"If they really followed us, they've been out there for over a month," she articulated slowly, "They've been watching and we never even knew they were there."
"So you're sayin' that no matter what we do, it ain't gonna' matter?" Daryl asked harshly as he leaned down and placed his palms flat against the mattress of her cot.
Beth's eyes softened, her lips turned downward into a frown, and her blonde hair fell around her face as she used the elbow of her uninjured arm to push herself up from the bed. Daryl felt her breath ghost his cheeks as she closed the distance between them. His gaze travelled over her face, taking in the scar on her cheek, the blueness of her eyes, and how soft her skin looked under the florescent lighting of the med bay. They sat there for a moment, searching each other, before Beth finally spoke.
"What I'm sayin'," she murmured as her face twisted in distaste, "is that no matter what you do…you're gonna' lose people."
"We'll figure somethin' out," Daryl tried to keep his tone even as he spoke.
"I hope you do," Beth's eyes danced over his face, "For your people's sake."
Daryl drew his eyebrows together in perplexity. He didn't like the way Beth didn't include herself amongst the population living within the walls of Alexandria. She may have only been reunited with them a month ago, but he had thought she was finally getting comfortable with the idea of living with everyone.
"I should get some rest," she leaned back onto the worn mattress.
Daryl nodded.
He suddenly felt as if her placing distance between them went beyond just the literal sense. There was something going on behind her eyes that he couldn't quite figure out.
"I'll come by in tha' monrnin'," Daryl replied as he pushed off her bed.
"I'll be here," she declared, but the smile she had given him earlier was missing.
Daryl moved to push the curtain aside, glancing at Beth over his shoulder, and exited the med bay. He knew she wouldn't be going anywhere with Morgan in the state that he was in, but that didn't stop the heavy feeling that was growing in his chest.
Pushing through the doors to exit the building, taking in the darkening sky, he made a mental note to express his concerns to Barbara in the morning.
…
Beth's eyes flitted about, taking in her surroundings. She was in the woods, outside the walls of Alexandria, by herself. Green trees and foliage filled her vision in every direction that she looked. She listened for signs of life, but all she heard was her heart drumming loudly in her ears. There were no birds chirping, no animals scurrying about, and even the crickets had silenced their music. It was far too quiet and she felt every nerve in her body jumping on edge.
Glancing down at her bandaged arm, she realized she didn't have her machete with her. Pressing her hands to the waistline of her jeans, she started to panic when her knife was absent from its customary place on her belt. She couldn't believe that she had snuck into the woods without a weapon to use to defend herself. It went against everything Morgan had taught her about surviving in their world.
The sound of shuffling in the trees behind her had her spinning on her heel, facing the direction of the noise, only to find the woods empty.
"Hello?" She tried to keep her voice from shaking.
Silence…
"Is somebody there?" She asked in a tone filled with false confidence.
She took a step back, the sensation to run weighing heavily upon her, and froze when the bushes in front of her began to rustle.
"I know you're there," she grit her teeth, "Quit bein' a coward and just come out!"
She could handle a walker, but she knew whatever was in the bushes wasn't undead. The dead didn't hide in the underbrush and wait for their prey. Their entire purpose was to feed on the flesh of the living and she had made more than enough noise to draw out a walker if there was one nearby.
A figure stepped out of the shadows and Beth was just about to turn and flee when she recognized the person's face.
"Morgan?" She hissed, "What tha' hell are you doin' out here?"
"It's all your fault," his voice came out broken.
"What?" She furrowed her brows.
"You killed me…" His words echoed through her.
"No," Beth shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes, "No! I saved you!"
"Look at me!" He bellowed so loudly that Beth had to cover her ears.
Beth took in his form as he stepped into the moonlight.
His arm looked as if it had been freshly amputated. Blood poured from the severed appendage and pooled at his feet. His skin was an ashen shade of black-gray and his eyes looked unfocused. He was sweating profusely, leaving damp impressions in the front of his shirt, and he swayed on his feet with each step he took.
"What…what happened to you?" She barely managed to whisper.
"You killed me," Morgan repeated.
"No…" She choked out a sob.
"You killed me," the words came out like a mantra.
Beth pressed her hands harder against her ears, trying to block out his words.
"You killed me," he yelled with each sluggish step he took.
"No! I had to," she pleaded as she fell to her knees, "You were bit. I had no other choice."
She felt the damp grass beneath her seeping into her jeans, matching the spots that dotted her thighs as the tears streamed down her face.
"You killed me," he was standing over her, breathing heavily, "So now I'm gonna' kill you."
Beth's eyes shot up in time to see Morgan's lips turn into a snarl, baring his teeth, and then he was lunging for her neck.
Shooting up in her chair, she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the bright lights that filled the room. It was only when she saw the cot in front of her that she remembered where she was and why she was there.
"I would say good mornin'," a hoarse voice caught her attention, "but I got no idea what time of day it is."
Beth reached forward, desperately grasping the warm hand resting against the mattress, and tried to calm her racing heartbeat.
"Beth? Hun?" She could barely hear the words being spoken to her, "You okay?"
Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes up to meet the dark brown ones staring at her in concern.
"Yeah…yeah," she nodded her head several times, "Just 'ah bad dream."
"Wanna' talk about it?" Morgan inquired gently.
Beth pressed her lips into a tight smile and shook her head, "No. No, I'm okay."
Morgan continued to stare at her, but didn't press her further.
Clearing her throat, giving him a much more genuine smile, she asked, "How're you feelin'?"
"Not feelin' much of anything at tha' moment," Morgan breathed, "Barbara gave me some morphine when I woke up earlier."
"Now you know how I feel," she teased lightly.
Morgan's cracked lips turned upwards before he grimaced.
"Do I need to get tha' doctor?" Beth asked, jumping to her feet and hovering over his bed, squeezing his hand even tighter than before.
"No," Morgan exhaled, "How long have I been out?"
Slowly reclaiming her chair, Beth scooting it closer to the bed, and wrapped her other hand over top of his, "'Bout four days."
"Damn," Morgan wheezed a chuckle, "Longest nap I've had in 'ah few years."
"They say old people need their sleep," Beth smiled, "Guess it's true."
She knew what Morgan was going to do even before he did. She waited for his hand to ruffle her hair, but it never came. It would never come again. It couldn't. He had lifted what remained of his arm off of the bed, only to lower the stub back down onto the mattress, no longer having a hand attached to the appendage to use as he had in the past when she'd teased him.
"That's gonna' take some gettin' used to," he sighed dejectedly.
Beth felt tears prickling her eyes and she bit down on her bottom lip in order to keep it from wobbling.
"Beth…" she felt him tighten his grip on her hand as he said her name.
"Do you…," she took a deep breath and tried again, "Do you remember anything?"
"I remember the herd, I remember tryin' t'keep you safe, I remember gettin' bit, and I remember you not listenin' to me when I told you t'leave me behind," Morgan listed off easily.
Beth nodded feebly.
"You saved my life Beth," his voice sounded deeper from the seriousness of his tone, "I was 'ah dead man walkin', but you managed t'stop it in time."
Beth nodded again, blinking away tears.
"You saved me," he reiterated strongly.
Even though she hadn't told him the words that haunted her from her dream, hearing that Morgan was thankful rather than blaming her for what had happened to him took an immense weight off of her heart.
"I wasn't gonna' leave you," she sniffled, "I know you've got family waitin' for you, but just…I was selfish. I didn't want you to leave me here alone."
"Now you listen t'me," Morgan said gently, taking his hand from hers and placing it on top of her head, "That's not selfish Beth. That's just human nature. None of us want t'be left alone. By cuttin' off my arm, you saved my life."
"I didn't know if it would work," Beth glanced towards what was left of his bandaged arm, "I jus' knew I had t'stop the virus from reacting throughout tha' rest of your body."
"You done good, kid," Morgan ruffled her hair and placed his arm back down on the bed, "I miss my wife…my son, but tha' truth is; I wasn't ready t'go either."
"You weren't?" Beth looked at him through her brimming tears.
"Jenny and Duane aren't goin' nowhere. They know I'm down here tryin' to look after you," he smiled widely, "Pretty sure Jenny would kick me right outta' heaven if I left you here with tha' way things are right now."
Beth laughed despite the tears that escaped her eyes.
"Don't ever feel guilty for this," he nodded down at his arm, "If losin' my arm gives me a little more time here to make sure you're takin' care of, I'd choose t'lose it all over again."
Beth bit her lip, trying to contain her smile, and quickly wiped away her tears.
"I promise I won't leave you 'til you don't need me anymore," Morgan said solemnly.
"What if I'll always need you?" Beth challenged.
"Then I'll be here for as long as I can," he answered with a smile.
It never ceased to amaze her how Morgan knew just what to say to make her feel better. After the week she'd had, keeping a strong vigil at his bedside once she'd been released from her own bed rest, seeing his eyes open, being able to feel the strong pulse in his wrist, and that he'd been officially feverless for over forty-eight hours meant the world to her. He wasn't going to turn. He wasn't going to leave her. That was all she could ask for.
"Now," Morgan exhaled, "What's been goin' on the last few days that I've slept through?"
Beth's smile faltered and Morgan's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
She needed to tell him about the herd, Byron, The Whisperers, and everything else, but she didn't want to ruin the moment. She and Morgan had been through so much the past three years and she knew he'd been through so much more in the two years prior to their meeting. Seeing him lying in the bed, feeling safe and totally at ease, was something she'd never experienced before, but the truth of the matter was that they weren't safe. No matter where they went or how thick the walls were that surrounded them, they would never truly be 'safe.'
"What…do you remember about tha' walkers we fought?" Beth asked hesitantly.
Morgan scrunched his eyebrows thoughtfully, "A lotta' what happened is still fuzzy. Should I remember anything in particular?"
"That guy we covered the patrol for…Byron? He was murdered," Beth looked down at her hands, fisted tightly in her lap, "They followed us, Morgan. The Whisperers. They followed us and they're here."
It was silent for a moment and Beth brought her eyes back up to find Morgan staring towards the ceiling.
"Damnit," he sighed dejectedly, "I was hopin' that I'd dreamed that part."
"That one walker," Beth didn't elaborate, "wasn't really 'ah walker."
"Yeah," Morgan nodded his head, still staring upwards, "Yeah…I know."
"What're we gonna' do?" She whispered, "They're after us. We're putting all of these people in danger just by bein' here."
Morgan lifted his head and met her worried gaze, "You tell 'em?"
"I told Daryl everything," she replied.
"Good," Morgan breathed, "What've they done so far?"
"Rick's got the place on lockdown. No one leaves the walls," she answered solemnly, "They want t'keep this quiet and said they were gonna' wait until you woke up. Talk t'you about it and try to come up with some sort 'ah plan."
"Alright," Morgan murmured.
"No," Beth whispered harshly, "It's not alright."
She clenched her jaw, unsure if she should continue. She didn't want to stress Morgan out in his condition, but he needed to know just how badly these people were underestimating the monsters hiding amongst the dead.
"Daryl thinks they'll be able to come up with somethin' that keeps anyone else from gettin' killed. They think they'll be able t'handle those things," Beth began to ramble, "Daryl thinks that these walls will keep everyone safe. He doesn't understand-"
"Beth," Morgan's tone cut her off, "We'll figure somethin' out."
"But what if-"
He lifted a finger, silencing her dispute, "I'll talk t'Rick and we'll come up with 'ah plan."
Beth sighed in defeat.
"Rick's a survivor," Morgan continued, "He's kept these people safe. He's kept them alive. He's not gonna' do anything that jeopardizes that."
"Us bein' here jeopardizes everything," Beth words dripped with disdain.
"I know," Morgan leaned back against his mattress and returned his gaze to the ceiling while repeating his statement in a quieter tone, "I know."
Beth wanted to believe that it would be different this time. She wanted to believe that Rick and Daryl would be able to help them find a way to end this once and for all, but that was just wishful thinking. The only way she and Morgan would ever be rid of those things would be the day that every single of one of them were eradicated from the face of the virus-torn Earth.
Morgan believed in Rick, so she would sit quietly and wait for the inevitable. The people here were still alive because of the walls that protected them. Many of them wouldn't last a day outside of the sanctuary that Rick and Daryl had worked so hard to maintain. The world outside was a full of deranged, malicious people, the dead, and then what she considered to be the product of the two combined. She'd seen a lot of things the past three years, but The Whisperers had plagued her dreams for as long as she could remember.
They truly were the things that nightmares were made of…
…
A/N: All the statistics I used in 'Barbara's doctor form scene' are Emily Kinney's that I found on a few websites. I cross-referenced them against each other for legitimacy and used Emily's birthday since we don't know Beth's!
Jenny is the name of Morgan's wife…in case anyone missed that from the show/comics!
So I've read that your dreams sometimes manifest what you're feeling. I feel like that's the best way to explain some of the things people experience without having them have some long, drawn out, inner monologue. It also keeps with the theme of this story, since we started out with Daryl looking back on his dreams. Thus, I would like to think that Beth would have some guilt for what she had to do to save Morgan (losing his arm), but she doesn't regret doing it.