AN: Okay, hi. I'm picking this fic up after not posting chapters in about a year. I wrote this at five in the morning (i have not slept yet) and am currently hopped up on so much coffee I don't have the focus to edit it (sorry) so I'm just posting it on a whim. I also finished writing chapter four (yes, I drank a lot of coffee) and am putting a dent in chapter 5 (like lots of coffee). I'll post chapter four in a few days, depending on reviews and such. Again, I'm updating this after a year so the first two chapters aren't as great and the story might not feel as fluid but stick around because I have a lot more chapters (and coffee) for you guys! Thanks(:
Beth expected nightmares when she laid her head down that night, a small part of her welcomed the terrors. But the tighter Beth squeezed her eyes shut the less it felt like a nightmare, and the more it felt real.
She could control the nightmare at times, could feel herself asleep and awake all at once. Each time Beth would try to save her father and Michonne. She ran to them, shooting the Governor where he stood, but the Governor wouldn't die. She would pull the trigger again and again but he would never fall, neither did his army. She would reach Hershel, beg him to stand, but he never did. Her father gave her a small smile but kept kneeling. Beth would scream and beg until finally, a sword slid across his neck, Beth covered in the blood of her father. Blood and bullets were flying all around her but all she saw was her father's head unattached from his body. No longer her father. Just dead. Forever dead. Beth would turn to find Maggie waiting on the other side of the fence, expecting Beth to save them, but each time Beth fell to her knees, and the nightmare would begin again. That entire night Beth lived in her head until finally, she fell to her knees one last time, waking drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.
Beth wasted no time, peeling the damp sheets off of herself, jumping out of bed and walking quietly down the hall. She needed air, she was sure she was suffocating. As she moved closer to the front of the RV she could hear Daryl's breathing. She imagined he was having nightmares too. Did he dream of saving their family? Did he dream of blood and screams? She moved passed him as quietly as possible, grabbing her knife and a abandoned coat hanging by the door. She wrapped the two sizes too big coat around her and walked out into the cool morning. She heard morning birds singing as she took in deep breaths, but didn't listen to their song as she once would. The world was not made up of singing birds and sunny mornings anymore. It hadn't been for a long time and although Beth had lost so much when the farm had burned, it took the prison invasion for her to see what the world had really become.
It did not matter if you were good or evil. All that mattered is that you survived. It did not matter how, you either died, or you didn't. What little hope remained was hope you had to fight for and Beth did not know how much fight was left in her. She wanted to be strong, to prove to Daryl and everyone else she could survive. She saw the way Daryl went about surviving, Michonne too. They rarely showed emotion, they kept themselves hard, and if that's what had to be done to survive, Beth would do it. She would do whatever it took to find what was left of her family.
As she walked through the abandoned campsite she looked for food, finally noticing a bush full of ripe red strawberries. Mouth watering, Beth filled her pockets with as many strawberries as possible and headed back to the camper. Before entering she put on a strong face, hoping Daryl wouldn't see through her.
She opened the door slowly to find an empty floor with no Daryl in sight. Worry flooded through her as she realized the camper was completely silent. She could not hear Daryl's panicked breathing. It finally hit her that maybe he had left. Beth didn't think of writing a note or waking him to say she would be back. Maybe he had left to look for her or maybe, like everyone else, he was just gone. She felt herself getting angry, [worry wouldn't help the situation, it would only get you killed, pull it together] she told herself. Pulling her knife out, she slowly entered the camper, and as she walked up the steps Beth felt two large hands reach out and wrap themselves around her waist, pushing a knife to her throat.
"What the hell," Beth yelled before she could stop herself. She raised her knife but before she could strike she heard a voice.
"Beth," it was a voice filled with shock and she knew exactly who it belonged to.
Beth had pushed hands away, turning fully to see Daryl standing in front of her, looking concerned with a knife in his grip.
"What are you doing?" She said full of anger and adrenaline, putting her knife away.
The moment of concerned on his face turned to anger and he threw his hands in the air. "What am I doing?! What're you doing?!" He yelled, "Leaving in the early morning! Going off alone?! I thought someone was breaking in! I could have killed ya!"
"I was two feet from the camper!" Beth yelled back, "You could have just looked out the window. I was right outside!" She felt her face turn red with anger. "Im capable of walking out the front door alone, you know. I can survive!" A babysitter was the last thing Beth wanted. She had just lost the most important people in her life, she would not be treated like a child anymore. Daryl rolled his eyes and sat at the small table. He was angry and stupid, but Beth knew what was happening immediately. Daryl Dixon didn't fear dying or pain, Daryl Dixon feared being alone and Beth knew if she didn't apologize now they would be bickering all day, and if they wanted to work together bickering wouldn't help. Sitting down, Beth sighed, "I'm sorry I left."
Daryl grunted and Beth took that as his way of apologizing. For a moment they didn't say a word, their eyes meeting for a second and a heavy moment lingered between them. Beth quickly remembered what caused this whole situation. "I brought food." Beth dug through her pockets and pulled out a handful of strawberries, laying them out on the table. She gave Daryl a smile he did not return, instead he sighed deeply, finally speaking, "We have to find them, Beth."
She looked down, slowly picking the stem off a strawberry. "I know."
When she finally looked up at Daryl she could see the loss in his eyes. Beth did not know what Daryl dreamt about, but she knew he carried the same pain and loss that she did and in turn, carried the same angry need to survive the shit in this world. "We'll find them," she whispered, handing him a strawberry.
AN2: The next chapter is longer and more angsty, I promise you it's worth the wait(: