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.
A/N: I'm baaaaccckkkk! I missed you guys! I had an absolutely AMAZING time on vacation, but I'm happy to be home! I really missed my Texas skies! I have reviews I haven't replied to, but I promise I will get to them! I was a lot busier than I thought I would be when I got home. Literally didn't touch my laptop for nearly the entire month of June! I have 2 prompt requests that I will be working on getting out this month (July) in between H.O.P.E. chapters.
I have a quick special request! Nicole cut herself pretty bad yesterday, had to get stitches and the whole shebang, so if you could keep her in your thoughts for a speedy recovery, I'd appreciate it! Hope you guys had an awesome (and safe) Fourth of July!
…
Beth followed Daryl down the dark corridors of the abandoned Kingdom. The stray beams of sunlight streaming in through sparsely spaced windows cast eerie shadows and Beth's hand had long since begun aching from how tightly she clinched the grip of her machete.
"Few more rooms and we'll call it," Daryl whispered over his shoulder.
They had searched the entire right wing of the school, hoping to find anything regarding Ezekiel's departure, but there had been nothing. The school looked like it had been ransacked; articles of clothing littered the floor of various rooms they had searched, unfinished food sat out on tables, and the shelves had been emptied of their contents. It was obvious that whatever had transpired had happened unexpectedly.
They entered yet another classroom that had been turned into someone's 'home.' The beds were unmade, there was a suitcase open on the floor, and from the looks of the toys scattered about, a child had resided in the quarters they were currently searching. Bending down, Beth picked up a stuffed rabbit off of the floor. It was missing an ear, its glass eyes were chipped and scratched, and its cream fur was matted and caked with mud and a crimson colored substance. Beth immediately recognized the sight of blood when she saw it.
"Find somethin'?" Daryl asked from across the room.
Beth stared down at the rabbit a moment longer before letting it slip from her grasp. The sight of blood was never a good sign, but she desperately hoped the child had survived whatever had occurred.
"No," Beth said when she finally took her eyes off of the stuffed animal, "You?"
"They left in a rush," Daryl shrugged, "There's blood all over tha' place. Nothin' that can tell us anything though."
"You think they made it?" The words left her mouth before she even realized she had voiced her question.
Daryl didn't immediately reply and Beth noted that his attention focused on a particular spot on the floor.
"Can't say for sure," he said hoarsely, "Ain't seen no bodies, but that don't mean much nowadays. There's not enough blood for someone t'have died in here."
"I think they made it," she lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and stepped away from the stuffed animal.
Daryl's smirk made her furrow her brows.
"What?" She asked defensively.
"Nothin'," he shook his head, smirk still in place, "That's jus' something only you would say."
It took Beth a moment to realize what he was saying, but when she finally connected the dots, a smile broke out across her face.
In the beginning she had wanted nothing to do with anyone who had known her from before. It had been more out of fear that she wouldn't be the same person they wanted her to be, that they expected her to be, but the longer she was around Daryl, the more she found herself wishing she could be the girl he remembered. He had obviously cared for her, trusted her, and she had known him on a different level than she did now. It was a curious thing, referring to herself as a different person, but that was her harsh reality. However it was moments like this, where she did something or said something that 'only she would say' that made her feel like she was the same person he had hoped for when she met him in front of the gates of the Alexandria Safe Zone.
"I don't think we're gonna' find anything in this room," Daryl sighed while slamming one of the desk drawers he'd been searching closed and breaking Beth of her thoughts.
"I don't think we're gonna' find anything anywhere," Beth huffed and used her free hand to brush the loose strands of her braid away from her face.
"I'm startin' to think you're right," Daryl murmured while glancing around the room.
"If we weren't being stalked, I'd suggest we split up," Beth stated while rifling through the suitcase that lay open on the floor in between two twin sized beds, "We'd cut our time here in half and be on our way back to Alexandria 'ah hell of a lot faster."
She didn't think there was any real danger just being across the hallway from each other. They were both capable and it wasn't such a long distance that they couldn't still come to the other's aide should something actually occur, but the noises they had heard last night and the footsteps earlier that morning were clear indicators that someone or something was still in the building with them.
"If it were just walkers, we'd already be searchin' separately," Daryl agreed and turned towards the door, "but we don't know what's in here with us."
"I do," Beth countered, dusting off her hands and standing from her crouched position, finding nothing of use in the suitcase.
She held Daryl's gaze until he looked away.
"Come'on," he gestured towards the door, "We got another hallway t'search after this'n."
Beth followed him out the door, taking one last glance at the abandoned toy laying on the ground, and stopped a few steps away. She ignored the way Daryl was looking at her, spun on her heel, and scooped up the stuffed rabbit before shoving it into her backpack.
"For when we find them," Beth explained, "Its owner probably misses it."
Daryl's eyes softened and the look he gave her caused her heart to flutter while her stomach started doing flips.
He made no comment, but his eyes never left her as she approached him. He towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the door behind them, and the intensity of his gaze sent chills across her skin. A familiar warmth slipped around her hand and she glanced down when she felt the tough skin of his calloused palm brush against her own as he interlaced their fingers. When she looked back up towards his face, she was greeted with a smirk that was closer to a smile, before he gently tugged on her hand.
"Let's go," he said quietly and turned to face the door.
The safety Beth felt in the room vanished the moment he opened the door, but she wasn't as on edge as she had been before. There was a sense of security from holding Daryl's hand and she waited behind him while he checked the hallway. When he was sure they were in the clear, his fingers tightened around hers, and she quickly returned the gesture. She felt safe with Daryl, regardless of their surroundings, and she realized then that if he asked her, she would follow him anywhere.
…
Beth winced as Daryl threw a large binder onto the floor. They had spent the past hour or so sneaking around hallways, checking each room before they could actually search it, and they had yet to find anything that would help them uncover what had happened in The Kingdom.
"You've got t'be fuckin' kidding me," Daryl spat in frustration as he paced around the back of the room, "The buses are gone 'cept the one we found out front full 'ah walkers, all their shit is everywhere, and all we got was 'ah short note Ezekiel scribbled on a dry erase board that tells us absolutely nothin'."
"There's still two rooms left," Beth tried to sound encouraging.
"This was 'ah waste of fuckin' time," Daryl pulled another binder off the bookshelf, flipped it open, and tossed it onto the floor with the others.
"Alright," Beth took a deep breath, "We've got two rooms left. I'm going to go search them while you finish up with that bookcase."
Daryl stopped rummaging through the bookcase to glare at her.
"I will literally be on the other side of the wall," Beth continued, "If I need you, you can be there in like two seconds."
"We should stick together," Daryl adjusted the strap of his crossbow as he spoke.
"We've already checked all the rooms," Beth replied, "If there was something coming after us, we should've ran into them by now."
"Or they could be waitin' for us to split up," Daryl argued.
"I can handle myself," she checked the straps of her machete to emphasize her point.
She could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he exhaled through his nose.
"Fine," he grumbled, "but if anything seems off, you call me."
"Yes Mr. Dixon," she made a mock salute and twisted back towards the door, but not before catching the look on Daryl's face.
Deciding not to linger and give him time to change his mind, Beth pulled opened the door, quickly scanned the hallway, and exited the room. She tiptoed quietly down the corridor towards the next classroom. Twisting the knob, she peered into the room, checking to make sure it was still empty, before entering and shutting the door behind her.
"Let's see," she murmured to herself while stepping into the center of the room.
This room was more organized than most of the others they had searched. The bed was made, papers were stacked neatly on a small school desk, and the only articles of clothing in sight were piled in the back corner of the room. Deciding to start with the stack of papers, she sifted through them, looking for anything that could possibly pertain to The Kingdom's evacuation. Next she moved to the pile of clothes, finding nothing except tattered blue jeans and discolored shirts that reeked of week old sweat. Exhaling loudly, blowing loose strand of hair out of her face, she let her eyes wonder around the room, noticing something sticking out from under the mattress of the bed.
When she reached the side of the bed, she used her machete to act as a lever and propped the mattress up away from the frame. With her free hand, she grasped the corner she had seen and pulled out a small, leather book. Removing her machete, the mattress fell back into place as a cloud of dust filtered up from the worn cushion. Waving the particles out of her face, she stepped closer to the windows and inspected the book in her hands. The corners of the book were plated with some sort of metallic cover, for what she assumed was to keep the leather from wearing away. There were engravings on the front cover that had long since lost the colored ink that had once filled the indentations. From the looks of the pages jutting out every which way, there were sheets of paper that were not original to the book stuffed inside. Carefully opening the book, she read a short inscription wrote in an unfamiliar handwriting.
Property of: Benjamin Evans
Flipping to the next page, Beth read over the semi-legible handwriting. She learned he had been a guard in charge of keeping the main route from Alexandria to Hilltop Colony safe and 'clean' for five miles. She skipped over several pages and began reading once more. According to this passage, Benjamin had moved to The Kingdom and took a position to guard along the wall in order to stay close to a girl he'd met while visiting The Kingdom. Skimming several more pages she read over the horrors of the Saviors and that Benjamin was promoted to 'Head of Security' after the previous man named Richard was killed during the war with the Saviors.
"Holy shit," Beth said aloud, "I found something."
There was a click behind her and she turned expecting to see Daryl.
"I found a journal…," She trailed off when she stared at the open doorway.
"Daryl?" She called in a harsh whisper.
Receiving no response, Beth slid her backpack off of her shoulder and stuffed the journal inside, never taking her eyes off of the doorway. Zipping the seam closed, she used her foot to kick the backpack against the wall and crept towards the door. Her heart had begun hammering in her chest, she could feel adrenaline slowly creeping into her system, and while she tried to keep her breathing even, it was only coming to her in unsteady pants.
"Daryl?" She called softer than before.
Utter silence greeted her.
The door had only been cracked open and any other time she might have thought that the latch hadn't fully caught in the jam. However, she had been stalked outside the wall, they had heard someone slamming a door the night before, and the footsteps running down the hallway that morning all pointed to one conclusion; someone had opened the door.
Standing a few feet away from the door, she stretched her sheathed hand, recoiling each finger individually around the grip to her machete and inhaled deeply through her nose. Pulling her pistol from its holster, she aimed ahead of her and used the blade of her machete to push open the door. She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable, but the hallway was empty. She tightened her jaw, refusing to let her guard down, and kicked the door closed in order to check if someone was waiting behind it. The corridor showed no other signs of life.
"What tha' hell?" She hissed and holstered her pistol.
Her eyes ran the length of the hallway in both directions, but there didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. All the doors were closed, exactly as she and Daryl had left them, there were no visible traces that anyone else was nearby, but she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She kept her grip tight on her machete, as she turned away from the room she had been searching, in order to return to Daryl. She had found a journal, which was more than they had even if it turned out useless, it was something.
Reaching for the doorknob to the room she had left Daryl to search, she heard a rustling behind her and turned just in time to see a blade coming down on her. She lifted her braced arm, praying the blade wouldn't slice through the metal, in order to shield herself.
"DARYL!" She managed to scream as the blade came upon her once more.
…
Daryl's blood ran cold at the sound of his name being screamed in the hallway followed by the clashing of metal. Yanking the strap of his crossbow off of his shoulder, he rushed to the door and wrenched it open, throwing caution to the wind. Beth had screamed his name. She needed him. His regard for his own safety was nonexistent because Beth was in trouble. Nothing else mattered.
He aimed his crossbow in the direction of the ruckus, expecting to see a walker or someone dressed as a walker, but the reality was neither of those. He stood frozen in place, watching sparks fly each time the two blades clashed, and he knew that if either of them landed a single blow, it would prove fatal. Dropping his crossbow to the floor, he ran towards the two bodies, but was unable to come between them.
"Michonne!" Daryl yelled when her blade nearly sliced across Beth's face, "Michonne! Stop!"
"You're dead," Michonne's voice came out sounding somewhat deranged, "I helped them bury you. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead."
"Michonne," Daryl tried again, "It's me. It's Daryl. Jus' look at me."
"You're not real," Michonne sneered, "You're not real."
"Daryl," Beth called to him in a strangled tone, "If you don't stop her…"
She didn't have to finish her sentence for Daryl to understand. If he couldn't get Michonne to yield in her assault, it was going to come down to Beth's life or Michonne's. Beth was holding her own against Michonne, but he immediately recognized how she had pulled back the moment Daryl had called the older woman's name. Beth was only playing defense, blocking and countering strikes as they landed, but never making any moves of her own.
"Michonne," Daryl inched forward while still trying to stay clear of the blades slicing through the air, "She's not dead damnit! Look at her face!"
"They wear the faces of the dead," Michonne replied and took advantage of Beth's hesitancy, catching her on the shoulder, "Beth is dead. I saw her body. We buried her in the ground. They're wearing her face."
Daryl clenched his fists and was at a total loss as to what to do to get through to Michonne. It was obvious she'd come across The Whisperers and Michonne had been there when they buried Beth next to Bob's grave. How was he supposed to explain to Michonne, who obviously wasn't in the right state of mind, that Beth hadn't been dead? That she had literally come back from the grave and was alive and breathing?
"Daryl," Beth heaved between breathes, "I'm numb."
Daryl felt panic rising through his chest. He remembered the conversations he'd had with Morgan and Beth about her condition. It wouldn't be long before Beth's body shut down on her and she wouldn't be able to keep up with Michonne's onslaught. He had to do something. He was just about to run back for his crossbow when Michonne kicked her foot out, hitting Beth square in the stomach and launching her back against the painted, brick wall of the hallway. Daryl rushed forward, but his sudden movement had gained Michonne's attention and instead of the blade being slashed towards Beth, it was now veering in his direction.
"Shit," he cursed when the blade stopped inches from his face.
His vision focused of the flat side of Beth's machete, which had been thrust between himself and the katana, before it was thrust upwards and Michonne stumbled on her feet. Daryl immediately lunged for Michonne's katana and they both fell to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Michonne scrambled for her katana, but Daryl kept a strong hold around her waist and after several minutes of struggling, the sword wielder finally gave up.
Beth slid down the wall, her head lolling to one side, and Daryl feared she had passed out until he saw her reach for her shoulder. Michonne's breathing was beginning to level out and Daryl slackened his grip. Before he could move, Michonne had grabbed the knife on his belt and was standing over him when the distinctive sound of the hammer of a gun 'clicked' next to them.
"Move," Beth rasped, her blood soaked hand steadily pointing her gun at Michonne's face, "and I won't hesitate t'pull the trigger."
"Beth is dead," Michonne spoke, but remained still, "Who are you?"
"We fucked up," Daryl cursed while slowly standing from the cold, tile floor, "She was still alive, Michonne. We buried her an' she was still alive."
"She's…not dead?" Michonne's pained eyes turned from him to Beth's crumpled form and back again.
Daryl shook his head.
"You're real," Michonne lowered his knife, "and Beth is alive."
"Yeah," Daryl moved to crouch next to Beth.
"Is it bad?" Beth's tired voice cut through the heavy silence.
"I don't think it needs stitches," Daryl pulled his red bandana from his back pocket and applied pressure to her wound, "How ya' holding up?"
"I can't feel my legs," she admitted, making an anguished face when she tried to sit up higher against the wall, "but I'm fine otherwise."
Daryl glanced up at Michonne, finding her watching their interaction warily, and felt relieved that they had finally seemed to have gotten through.
"Daryl?" Beth asked, immediately regaining his attention, "Can you help me up?"
"Yeah," he replied while wrapping an arm under her shoulders and helping her to her feet, "Where's your bag?"
"In tha' room I was searchin'," she jerked her head towards the door on the right side of the corridor, "I found the head of security's journal. Might be somethin' in it that can tell us what happened here."
"You won't need it," Michonne spoke up, sounding much more like herself, "I can tell you anything you want to know."
Daryl and Beth exchanged glances.
They stood in silence for a moment before Michonne moved to retrieve her katana. Daryl felt Beth's form tense, but he kept his arm snugly wrapped around her slender waist.
"I'm sorry I attacked you," Michonne apologized while sheathing her blade, "If I had known it was really you-"
"The Whisperers were here," Beth interrupted coolly, "weren't they?"
Michonne twisted back around to face them, regarding them stoically.
"They never left," Michonne replied ominously.
Daryl felt Beth's hand slide across his lower back, fisting the untucked tails of his shirt under the hem of his vest.
"I have some first aid supplies in my room," Michonne turned, picking up Daryl's crossbow, and began walking down the hallway, "We can talk there."
"You trust her?" Beth questioned bluntly.
"Yeah," Daryl nodded, "She was with us before we found Alexandria."
"Then that'll have t'be good enough for me," Beth replied, but kept her gaze intent on Michonne's form.
…
After taking a quick detour to reclaim Beth's backpack, Daryl had helped Beth walk towards Michonne's room until her legs could support her own weight. Daryl recognized it as one they had already searched earlier that day, but it wasn't the same room they had heard movement from the day before. It was on a completely different floor than the closet where they had taken refuge, on the opposite side of the school.
"You should take off your machete so we can clean your wound," Michonne instructed while tossing Daryl's crossbow onto a bed and removing a white, tin box from a shelf.
"I'd rather not," Beth countered sardonically.
"Suit yourself," Michonne replied unfazed by Beth's tone.
Daryl took the box when Michonne offered it to him, unlocking the clips and opening the tin to find an array of different medical supplies. With pharmaceutical companies' no longer in production, they'd had to resort to making their own remedial concoctions. Pulling out a roll of cream colored fabric and a clear bottle marked 'antibiotic ointment,' Daryl began trying to clean Beth's wound.
"So," Beth began while he applied the clear ointment onto her wound, "how long have you been followin' us?"
Daryl was not surprised that Beth had noticed that Michonne's room was nowhere near the supply closet. He had planned on asking Michonne the very same question once he was through tending to Beth's arm.
"I left to look for supplies a few days ago," Michonne explained, "I saw the two of you in the office wing when I got here this morning."
"How'd you get in?" Beth narrowed her eyes, "The front gates were chained and locked when we got here."
"I had the key," Michonne crossed her arms over her chest, "When I got here, the gate was open, and all the walkers had been cleared off the bus. I knew it had to of either been Ezekiel coming back or someone had snuck in."
"So you weren't here last night?" Daryl asked; tying off the fabric he'd used to wrap Beth's arm.
"No," Michonne dropped her arms to her side, "Why?"
"What happened here?" Beth answered her question with a question, "Why did everyone leave?"
"It started a month ago. Maybe longer," the darker skinned woman began, "We noticed some walkers acting suspiciously. They were hiding in the tree line, just out of range, but close enough to be seen. Ezekiel wanted answers so he had a few men go out and patrol the woods."
"What happened?" Daryl inquired when she didn't continue.
"We found them tied to a tree," Michonne spoke through clenched teeth, "Their throats had been slit and they'd bled out where they stood. They'd already turned when we found them."
Beth stood and rolled the shoulder of her braced arm in a circular motion as she began to pace around the room.
"Why didn't you radio?" Daryl asked accusingly, "We have a protocol fer' shit like this."
"I tried," Michonne snapped, "Ezekiel said we had nothing to report. A few walkers acting strange and some guys who'd had their throats slit in the woods wasn't enough to go on. We had no idea who we were dealing with. We didn't even know who they were until it was too late."
"Why evacuate the community?" Beth asked as she ceased her pacing and moved to stare out of the window against the wall closest to the door.
"We think one of them infiltrated The Kingdom, posed as one of us, and learned our schedule," Michonne continued back onto the main topic, "They struck one night during the graveyard shift. Someone had left the gate unlocked and with only a few people along the wall; they had been able to sneak in unnoticed. We lost a lot of people before they finally called a retreat. That's when the herd hit us. We didn't have time to radio, but Ezekiel thought if they knew our schedule, they probably knew how our whole system worked. He took the radio with him and we got as many people out as we could."
"Do you know where they are?" Daryl stood and racked a hand through his hair.
"They're-"
"Daryl, we need t'get out of here," Beth's voice trembled.
"What is it?" Daryl moved to stand beside her.
He'd only caught a glimpse of movement in the courtyard below, but it was enough.
"You said you didn't get here until this morning?" Beth turned her full attention on Michonne.
"Yes," Michonne answered incredulously, "What's going on?"
"Someone was followin' us when we were outside tha' walls," Daryl explained, "We heard 'em last night and again this mornin'."
"If it wasn't you," Beth added, "Then that means it was probably one of tha' Whisperers. We've been here long enough that they'll have had time t'get a herd moving in our direction."
Daryl knew Beth was right. It was well into the evening and whoever it was had left early that morning. They wouldn't have had time to make it to Alexandria and back, but if what Michonne said was true, they had a camp somewhere near The Kingdom. They were the ones that had been following them through the woods and stalking the outside of the walls. They were after Beth and he had brought her to the one colony with no defenses left in place.
"Grab whatever you need," Daryl ordered to Michonne while taking his crossbow and sliding the strap over his shoulder, "We gotta' move…now."
Daryl's gaze followed Beth as she ran to the door, cracking it open and peering into the darkening hallway. Michonne quickly gathered a few changes of clothes and shoved them into her backpack before signaling that she was ready to move.
"It's clear," Beth said quietly over her shoulder.
Daryl stepped away from the window and crossed the room to stand behind the petite blonde.
"I'll take point," Michonne declared while unsheathing her katana and stepping through the door.
"You go on," Daryl nudged Beth forward, "I'll bring up tha' rear."
Beth acted as if she were about to exit the room before turning back to him, "Don't get too far behind."
"I won't," Daryl replied.
They raced down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and Daryl could hear glass shattering somewhere nearby. The school was no longer quiet, instead filled with the moans of the dead, and he knew they were too late.
The dead were clambering through windows that had been filled with glass only moments before and among them were bodies that moved too agile to be a walker. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Michonne kept moving, slicing her blade as necessary when a corpse stood in her way.
"Follow me," she yelled while running through the foyer, "The weight room is in the basement level of the school. There's a passageway we can take that will lead us out towards the baseball fields."
Daryl followed behind Beth, weaving through the corridors, through a door, and down a flight of stairs he'd never seen before. When the door shut behind them, they were submerged in total darkness. Daryl's hands grazed the wall as he continued his descent, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He was just beginning to make out the shapes in front of him when the jingling of keys echoed in the silence of the room.
"Once we're outside," Michonne whispered in a hushed tone, "run straight across the fields. We'll have to climb the fence, but once we're over them, we can use the woods for cover."
"Alright," Daryl answered through the dark, "If we get separated, go straight t'Alexandria. We'll all meet back up there."
"Be careful," Michonne implored before throwing open the door.
The distance across the field was farther than he'd had to sprint in quite some time. His chest burned, his muscles ached, and he was panting heavily by the time they reached the fence. Tossing his crossbow over onto the other side, he helped Beth scale the fence before he began climbing himself. There were no signs of walkers behind him, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the entire school was covered in the walking dead.
When his feet touched the ground, Beth was standing with his crossbow in hand, waiting for him. He took his weapon, grabbed hold of her hand, and began sprinting once more. Michonne was a few feet ahead of them, maneuvering through the trees, and Daryl trailed after her. They'd have to sneak through the woods, back towards the front of the school, and wait for an opportunity get his bike. Until then, they'd just have to survive the night and steer clear of the herd.
Looking behind them, he could no longer see the school through the trees, but instead he could clearly make out the exhaustion in Beth's features. She hadn't had time to fully recuperate from her encounter with Michonne and he knew there'd be no time for her to rest any time soon. Michonne was deadly with her katana; smooth and fluid. Watching Beth keep up with her would have been mesmerizing had the situation been under different circumstances.
Their pace slowed as the distance between them and the school grew. When Michonne began walking, Daryl stopped and adjusted his crossbow to rest against his chest.
"What're you doin'?" Beth asked breathlessly.
"Hop on," Daryl leaned down and extended his arms behind him.
"You serious?" Her tone expressing her uncertainty.
Daryl chuckled, repeating the same words he'd said to her all those years ago, "Yeah. This is a serious piggyback."
Daryl heard the buckles of her brace unfasten, glancing over his shoulder to catch her strapping her machete onto her backpack, and then her hands were on his shoulders. A moment later, his hands were gripping the underside of her thighs and her weight was pressed against his back.
"I think you've lost 'ah few pounds," he said as he started walking.
"You've carried me like this before?" Her voice sounded next to his ear.
"Yeah," he replied, "Once. After you'd caught your ankle in a varmint trap."
"Oh," Beth's breath tickled his neck, "Thanks."
"Yeah," Daryl murmured, "Why don't you get some rest. We got 'ah long night ahead of us."
Beth rested her cheek against his shoulders, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck in response. It wasn't long before her breathing evened out and he had to bend slightly forward while he walked to make sure she didn't fall backwards. Her heart beat steady against his back and the calming sensation was a welcome change of pace.
"It's really her?" Michonne's question was one he'd asked himself several times when Beth had first arrived.
"Yeah," he adjusted Beth higher onto his back, "It really is."
"She didn't recognize me," Michonne stated evenly.
"She don't remember anything from before," Daryl informed her.
"Probably for the best," she replied solemnly.
"Yeah," Daryl's voice came out sounding gruff, "Maybe."
Silence fell between them as they crept through the woods.
Daryl wasn't sure whether he agreed with Michonne's sentiment or not. Beth didn't remember anything about her life before. She didn't remember her mother, her brother, Hershel, Maggie, or anyone else that had mattered to her. She couldn't remember a life where she'd been carefree and happy. A life where she had been safe. All she knew now was death, corpses, and fighting for survival. Then again, she didn't have to deal with her loss the same way he still mourned his brother. Time had eased some of the pain, but the wound was still there. Merle hadn't been much, but he'd been family, so maybe it really was for the best that she had lost her memories.
After all, you can't miss what you can't remember.
…
A/N: Richard and Benjamin are both actual characters in TWD comics. However, I did take a few liberties with Benjamin's character to fit my story.
Sorry for the late night update, but it's still July 5th here in Texas so I met my deadline! It took me a bit to get back into the swing of the story, but I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Thank you guys for the sweet messages wishes me a good time on vacation! I sincerely appreciate all the love and support! You guys are the best!