Beth kept her eyes closed. Cheek aching from where she rested it, against the snow, unable to move, unable to open her eyes and see the world she'd be leaving behind. Inside of herself, she screamed in anguish, she cursed herself, she cursed how stupid she'd been to think she could do this. She felt like a child, young and vulnerable and scared. Scared to die. Beth wanted her mom. She wanted her dad, she wanted Maggie, and Shawn. She wanted them to hug her tight and promise it would all be okay. That it was all a dream. What if this was all a dream. Maybe she was asleep, safe in her bed, in her room, in her house on the farm, surrounded by her family and the miles of open land... No, she wasn't home. The frost cutting into her exposed skin and the silence around her were too real. The pain shooting through her leg was too real. This wasn't some long, unforgiving nightmare. Staring into the snow, knowing she couldn't hide away and revert to who she was all those years ago, Beth pined for another source of comfort. Daryl. She'd give anything to see him come running toward her. From beyond the mist. Calling her name. Looking at her with those blue eye, obstructed by his long brown hair. Carrying her on his back, holding her hand, telling her to keep singing. She'd be happy if he would be the one to sit. To pull he trigger. If he would be the one to put her down and send her away. At least she could look into his eyes one more time and catch a glimpse of whatever she'd seen at their last dinner. Maybe he'd tell her. Explain it to her. Lifting her head, she looked into the mist and swallowed the lump in her throat. No one was coming. This was real life. What you wanted and what you got were never the same thing. If she was turning, it would be up to her to press the gun to her template and squeeze the trigger.
Beth had to kill herself. All those times she thought she was ready. At the farm. Cutting her wrists, hoping to go easy. She wanted to go, right there, with her family by her side and the sun shining through the window. That wasn't how she saw life now. It wasn't something to waste. To of many people died trying to make it. Killing yourself was easy surviving was hard. She wished she could see things that same way, feel happy when she put a bullet through her skull, thinking she'd be with her dad and mom and Shawn up in heaven. No. No, that wasn't Beth anymore. She had so much to fight for, so much to do. All that pain, feeling lost, forgetting her people, escaping Grady, killing the walker children, killing those people on the bridge, saving Morgan... She'd been so strong, so selfless, surviving to find Daryl and Rick and Judith... Beth let herself sob as she turned her body, looking down at the walker by her feet, her boot submerged in snow. She should have been more careful. Carrying Morgan and thinking about the past just absorbed her into a stupor so deep she didn't notice it's hand stirring. She felt an ache where it had bit down and she blinked away tears, reaching down, trying to find the courage to see the bite.
Morgan's sob forced her to look up. There he lay, against the wall, gun in hand, staring up into the sky, his eyes burning with anger and sorrow. The same look she'd seen in her daddy's eyes when Shawn turned. Same look in Maggie's eyes when their daddy died. He was mourning her loss already and angry at himself. She wanted to comfort him, but words were impossible to form, drowned by the tears that chocked her.
"It's my fault... I should have stayed back... I made you weak and... I failed you..."
Shaking her head, she swallowed the tears and shushed him, begging him to look at her, smile weak as she spoke, "Maybe I'll come back as me... I am Saint Beth."
He looked at her, tears running down his hollow cheeks, the sherif hat tipped low as he gave he sighed painfully, trying hard to return her humour. He failed, breathless as he replied, "You'd have to be Jesus himself."
It was too painful to meet his gaze. She forced her attention back to her foot, pulling her boot from the snow, seeing the bite marks... That hadn't penetrated the leather. Shaking with hysteria, she felt the indents. The leather hadn't torn. What pain she felt must have been from the pressure of its jaw against the bruises on her arches and the frost that numbed her toes. Covering her mouth, she trembled, laughing for a moment. Her head felt light and it took a moment to resist the need to drop down and collapse. Morgan frowned at her, alarmed by her wide smile and wild eyes, watcher her crawl toward him, wrapping her arms around him.
"I think maybe you should call me Bethus."
Her laughter unnerved him, pulling her back, still shaking as he stared in awe at her smile. With a shuddering breath, he forced himself to sit up, looking at her boot, seeing the intact leather, hiding his eyes as he tried to breathe easy.
"Beth Greene you scare the hell outta me," he groaned, fingers wrapped securely around her forearm, her eyes bright and blinding as they stared into his, her smile beaming brighter than the sun he longed to feel again. His ribs ached from sobbing and his eyes burnt with tears but he smiles and he chuckled, giving her arm a soft squeeze. Whatever the world threw at this girl, she defied it and survived, and he was glad he had the chance to see her fight back one last time. Heaving, he tried to stand, knowing he couldn't. This was where he had to stay. His eyes met hers but she shook she head, suddenly serious. He opened his mouth to speak but another voice filled the silence.
"Hello?! Are you alright?!"
Beth looked up, gun raised instinctively, lowering it a little as she saw a woman approaching, accompanied by a man dressed in a soldiers uniform. They slowed as she aimed for the man, arms shaking but her finger hovered on the trigger, ready to make the shot. She was ready to kill them if they were the wrong sort of people. The soldier seemed equally sceptical of their intentions. He raised his gun but the woman urged him to lower it, pulling off her bag, the patch on her arm bearing a stitched first aid cross. She had copper hair, curly and long, her cheeks dusted with freckles, eyes so deep a green that Beth could barely look away. Something about her was perfect. Something trustworthy and warm lingered in her mesmerising irises. As though she wasn't from this world. An angel, maybe. If so, then Beth might have to run away. As perfect as heaven might be, she wasn't ready to leave this world, not yet, not when she was so close.
"I'm Carly, sweetheart, Were from the Alexandria safe zone."
Morgan groaned as he tried to rise up, but Beth kept a hand on his and looked at the woman with a pleading glance, her voice shaky, unsure, "I...I'm looking for Rick Grimes,"
Carly's saphire green eyes widened in suprise, staring at Beth in disbelief, looking over at the guard. He too seemed moved by her words, letting his gun slide back into its holster as he looked backwards, expression pensive. Carly spoke to him, her voice authorative "radio Douglas, tell him to get Rick to the gate. We got two of his."
The man nodded, pulling a large radio from his back pocket, tapping it against his hand a few times, cursing about 'old technology.' Before he moved away he called out to Carly, tossing her a box from his pocket as he turned and began working a small radio. Beth kept her gun at her side, still wary, though she couldn't help but trust Carly, who was checking Morgan's leg, wincing as she felt the break. Morgan was almost unrecognisable now. He looked thin, skin grey around his bloodshot eyes, lips cracked, body shaking. When Beth had believed herself bitten, Morgan had awoken from the shroud of death that seemed to linger around him, but now, the drain of his sickness seemed impossible to fight and Morgan almost surrendered to the pain, had it not been for Beth's steady hand wrapped tightly around his.
Carly checked his pulse and pulled off her own scarf, wrapping it around his neck, voice edged with disbelief, "I have no idea how you made it this far on foot..."
Morgan took a breathe and glanced at Beth, "Had a bit of help."
She smiled, withholding a sob. Relieved to see Carly able to help him. Glad to see him fighting the cold. From the box, she pulled two energy bars, handing one to Beth with a soft smile, then passed the other to Morgan. Beth insisted Morgan have her bar as well but he warned her that he needed her strong. Food never tasted so miraculous and Beth swallowed mouthfuls of the bar, sad when she was left with a wrapper, fishing the crumbs out from the corners of the wrapping. Carly have her water too. Her bag was full of supplies. Beth hoped the safe zone was close. She wasn't sure her legs could handle another minute of walking in the snow. Her lower body was stiff, numb from the cold, limbs more ice than flesh and blood.
"Let's get them moving Carly, don't wanna be out here when the wind picks up."
Glancing back at the man, she shot him a warning glare, voice sharp, ,"instead of being a Boy Scout about all this, how about you help me. They are in no condition to just get up and follow you. Your a man, help him."
The man rolled his eyes, coming closer. To Beth's surprise, he was a lot younger than she expected. Twenty maybe. He gave Carly a glare before helping Morgan up, gently aiding him to balance on his good leg. He buckled slightly, cursing, shifting Morgan carefully. Beth could tell he was nervous. Luckily, he was well rested and fed, which made him a far better support for Morgan that Beth and been. Carly pulled Beth up, putting an arm around her shoulders, trying to warm her up, smiling as she whispered, "my brother hates it when I order him about. He'll be sulking for the next week, you watch."
Beth let out a shaky laugh, reaching the end of the alley, breathless when she saw the road led to a walled city, not far from them. The walls were made of scrap metal and she saw the outlines of figures patrolling the top. A few cars were parked ahead. Some barbed wire scattered through the road. From beging the wall, she could make out the spire of a church, some low roofed houses, where smoke rose from chimneys and the mist seemed thinner, less daunting. It reminded her of the prison. A place walled off and safe. A place that had been her home. Maybe this would be the perfect place for a new start, as long as she could find someone to help her move on from everything she had left behind. As long as there was hope. Breathing in the cold air, Beth could almost feel her spirits rising. Relying on hope to keep her going, keep her focused. Rick was alive. No doubt his family was too. Carl. Judith.
"And Daryl," she murmured to herself, the name burning on her lips, warming her throat and chest as she remembered his eyes and the burn of moonshine as it set her body alight, a kindling fire burning bright, still burning with every memory of the moments she'd shared with the man she was fighting to find again.
...
"What'd 'you mean my people?"
Rick wasn't sure he believed Douglas. He'd come running into the dining hall, dragging Rick away from his family, warning him that there was a radio message about two of his people being found in the outskirts. Somehow, Rick could only think of all the enemies who lay beyond the walls and didn't trust the message. Anyone left behind was dead. He didn't have people out there looking for him. He agreed to go to the gate and see who had come searching for him, but Rick wasn't going alone. On his way through Main Street, he took a sharp turn right into the desolate part of the town where the empty houses and storage sheds were. A little further and he was outside Daryl's house. A one bedroom, one floor cabin, with a porch that needed fixing and a swinging chair that was crooked. Daryl was there, fixing the tip of an arrow, lost in thought. He noticed Rick approach, glancing up, reading his friends face in an instant.
"Where we going'?" he asked, slinging his cross bow over his shoulder, expression grave and serious. Rick sighed and shrugged, "apparently they found some survivors out there... One of them said they were looking for me."
Daryl didn't seem surprised. He wasn't. Probably some survivors of the prison attack or worse, some of those they'd fought to escape from. Glancing at Rick, he noticed the tense grimace across his lips and knew they shared the same thought.
"Reckon we outta expect the worst."
Rick shrugged, walking beside Daryl, pushing past some guards as they reached the gate, the mist obstructing their view of the incoming visitors. As the guard let them through, Daryl watched the men behind them. Nervous. Guns ready. People here were ready for bad news. Daryl shifted his cross bow, feeling the strap cutting into his shoulder, shirt doing little to keep the cold from cutting into his neck. He'd been feeling stiff lately. Too long sitting up at the wall, in the cold, staying out for two shifts just to make sure he'd be too tired to dream when he got home. His body wasn't taking too well to this new routine but he wasn't one to let a little thing like body aches get in the way of blocking out the pain he felt waking up from visions of his failures. Shivering, he looked into the mist and waited. A shadow formed, a silouhette of two men, one resting against the other. He didn't recognise the boy or the man but Rick seemed all too aware of the strangers identity, taking a step forward, disbelief in his expression as he muttered the name 'Morgan.' Man was wearing a hat like Rick used to wear, almost identical. Daryl didn't move. He'd seen the other figures approaching.
All he saw was red. Red shining out from the mist. Whatever it was, it led the way, joined by a tall woman he'd spoken to a few times. Cathy or something. She'd been watching him on the wall a few nights ago. The red figure kept going, stumbling. Weak. He pushed past the guard who stood in front of him, feeling a strange urge to run forward. As though he knew whoever it was burning red. Rick was by his side, hand on his gun, warning the guards not to fire. He was walking forward. Daryl followed, slowly, staring at the red figure. Whoever they were, they were small, so skinny that the jacket hung off them. The hood was pulled up but it began to slip a little with the wind. He caught a glimpse of gold hair falling across a pale face.
...
Beth pushed forward, seeing the safe zone clearly now. A city surrounded by tall walls. The entrance gate was open. Figures stood lined up, ready to receive them. She silently wished for a miracle. For these people to be the good kind. For Rick to be there, with the group, with... Daryl. She stopped. A figure emerging from behind the men she didn't know. Blurred by the mist. Tall and strong, walking with cautious steps, hair hiding his face... A cross bow in his hands.
As weak as she might be, Beth found the energy to run, seeming to defy her own bodies limits as she sprinted, her voice high, an anguished scream, "Daryl!
A ghost. Hell, he was seeing her ghost. Running to him. If he blinked, she'd disappear. He'd gone mad. Not by seeing dead people rise or by killing his brother. Beth Greene had driven him mad and he was unable to find the strength to push away every warm memory he had of her. Her hair blew in the wind, her blue eyes focused on him, a smile on her lips as tears ran down her scarred face. Daryl was almost close to falling to his knees, ready to break down and call her name. Until Rick said it. Said her name. Daryl blinked.
She was still there, closer, slipping in the snow as she scrambled towards him. What if... What if she was real? He darted forward, out of his mind, unable to tear his eyes away from her. She called his name again, eyes staring into his for a brief moment before her body came crashing against his, her arms around his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Beth trembled, nails clawing at his neck as she pushed herself into him, feeling his shock, how tense he was, how warm he was. His arms didn't come around her, his hands to busy pulling her head back, forcing her to lean back, palms against her cheeks as he studied her. His eyes were blue, deep and searching, his mouth trembling as he whispered her name. Her lip was cut and his thumb wiped at the line of blood. Warm blood. Warm, thick blood that smeared across his skin. Ghosts didn't bleed.
Words were something she couldn't form, tears blurring her vision of him as she nodded. It took him a moment, a moment to look into her, before his arms locked around her and he said her name again. That gruff voice shaky and pained, childlike. He held her, breaths shallow as he pushed his head against her shoulder and tried hard not to break apart. Right there. It was so cold around them, but the moment their bodies met, she could feel them melt into each other. Beth kept her eyes closed, unable to take in the world and people around her, ears focused on the sound of his shallow breaths and the distant howl of the winter wind. Her head buried into his neck, her lips pressed to his neck, face lingering against his warm skin. Daryl wasn't sure where his body stopped and hers began, but he wrapped his arms around her delicate back as tight as he dared, her legs knotted round his waist. Unsure of how he'd come to hold her again, Daryl felt tears burn in his eyes, his heart aching as though he were back in his nightmare, aware that she would disappear the moment his eyes opened. He heard her let out a breathless laugh, her hand easing up to his head, fingers sliding through his hair, sending blissful shivers through his spine.
As strong as Daryl was, his touch was tender and warm, his hands gripping her back, the pressure of his fingers against her ribs so comforting she had to suppress a deep sigh. He walked with her, a few steps forward, voice an unsteady whisper that made her smile, "Beth.. H-how can y'be..."
The confusion and raw emotion in his voice made her tears fall faster, her voice muffled as she spoke into his neck, his skin warm against her lips, "I said I wasn't gonna leave you."
He didn't need to say anything. She could feel his relief, his grief alleviated. She felt his heartbeat fast against her chest, heard his sharp intake of breath and shuddering exhale. To let go now would mean she'd have to leave him and nothing felt more cruel than being torn away from the person who had been there waiting for her at the end of all the death and blood and pain. If she'd been able to see into his mind, Beth might have seen that he shared her same resistance to separation. His knees gave way, sinking into the snow, and she let out a breathless laugh, tightening her hold of him. There was nothing to say. Neither could form words, nor could they fathom just how they could even start to explain how they felt. Beth didn't need him to speak. Not now. Not yet. She was barely able to handle the way her heart pulsates just being in his arms. Anymore shock and she might die of joy.
It was by mere coincidence that her head swayed and her lips found his cheek. She felt him stiffen. It didn't bother her. Daryl was holding her so close, it might have felt unnatural not to let her lips find his skin. He didn't stiffen because he didn't like it. It felt too good, too soft and warm. He held her tighter, suddenly afraid it was a dream and he'd wake up in his empty house, alone, ready to spend a night in the cold to keep himself from feeling the pain of loosing her. Daryl's hand moved from the small of her back to her hair, fingers weaving through her ponytail, the memory of blood staining the perfect blonde strand making him hide his face away in her neck, breathing her in, unable to see how he'd ever let her go.
"Beth... It's Beth..." Rick's voice sounded a world away but Beth lifted her head and saw him embracing Morgan, thanking him, turning to her. Morgan took off the hat and handed it to Rick, his voice a gravely whisper she barely heard, "had to return what you lost."
Rick glanced over at Beth. The tears in his eyes suprised her, his smile warm, a hand reaching out, resting on her head as though he were unsure she was real. In him, she saw her father and her arms tightened their hold of Daryl, suddenly overcome by how much she wished her dad was here to welcome her home. He felt her lean into him harder, felt her pain, his voice an unsteady whisper, "I got ya."
"I found you," she murmured, the words making her cry, pulling back a little, his head raising to meet hers, her hands wiping the tears that lingered in his eyes. His deep blue eyes. He didn't even try and hide how he felt. He couldn't pull away, hard as he might try. Not Beth. Not now. Not ever. There were a thousand words she wanted to say to him, but like Daryl at that moment, they caught in her throat all she could do was stare into his eyes. Never before had she seen into someone so clearly. Beth was always afraid of being alone, but in his eyes, she could see that she'd never be alone. Not as long as he was here. Gently, she pressed her forehead against his, letting out a trembling laugh, "knew you'd miss me bad."
He smirked, his thumb gently rubbing her spine, tensing at the sound of others approached. Daryl got to his feet, letting her slip down, lingering close by him as her feet touched the floor, his arm still around her protectively. She felt vulnerable without him and her fingers circled around his forearm, his chest against her back, heartbeat steadying her. Douglas approached with three guards. One gave her a harsh glare that might have scared her once, but now, all she felt was contempt, hand on her knife. The others seemed disinterested. One looked too young to be holding a gun. The hostile guard stared at Morgan and his lip curled, looking back to Beth with an expression that openly revealed his mistrust. Daryl's arm tensed and she took hold of his hand, fingers slipping between his, the warmth of his touch making her stronger. For a moment, she was back outside Rebecca's house, with Daryl, staring at a grave, realising she wasn't so alone in the world.
"They come with us, need to have them checked..."
The man didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Daryl glared at him, taking a step forward. He'd cut down any man who tried to tear her from him, armed or unarmed, and it was clear by his scowl that he was all to ready for a fight. His voice fierce as he spoke, "She aint going nowhere."
Douglas winced at the words, glancing at Rick. He looked helpless and Daryl wanted to kick him hard for it. Rick gave Douglas a nod, to which he sighed, holding up a hand to the guard, "If Rick vouches for them, then we trust them."
The guard seemed dubious, looking Beth and Morgan over with a harsh glance, "and if they're bit?"
Beth looked over at Rick, pleading, "were not, but Morgan got hurt. We ran into some people, they broke his leg... The same people who attacked at Dale."
Everyone seemed stunned by her knowledge of the attack. Carly came past Beth, walking up to Douglas, her expression stony and determined as she faced him, "I checked them myself. No bites. The man is suffering from fatigue. Any longer out here and we might lose him, so move."
Beth wanted to hug her but she couldn't bring herself to leave Daryl. She wasn't ready to let go of the presence she'd dwelled on for so long. Morgan groaned as Rick helped him walk, aided by the guards who seemed aware of how useless it was to argue with Carly. She was already moving guards out of the way, her brother close behind her. Feeling Daryl turning her, she looked at him, facing him, speechless still. His eyes searched hers, hands gripping her arms, voice unsteady, "How Beth... How'd you come back?"
"I-I didn't. I was never gone... A woman found me, saved me... The bullet missed and I forget a lot of everything then Morgan found me and... " she felt breathless and he nodded eyes roaming to the scar on her forehead and she suddenly felt conscious of how many scars she had. Her lip was bleeding, the taste of blood metallic and yet somehow satisfying. She wanted to say so much but she was weak and she couldn't find the right sentence. The right way to express everything she'd ever wanted to say to him. He wanted the whole story. He needed to know. Had they buried her alive? Who found her, and how did Morgan come into this? Had she been hurt by anyone on the way... He couldn't make her answer but the questions unsettled him. Her inability to explain it all, coupled with her perfect eyes studying his face, left him unable to push her for answers. All that mattered was how Beth was now. Daryl seemed to understand how lost she was, trying his best at a smile, "can you walk on those legs?"
"I think so, just gimme a second," her voice was breathless and she realised how hard it was to meet those eyes of his, those dark eyes that wouldn't stray from her face, fixated on her as though he were afraid she might disappear into the air. Her body felt weaker than ever and she took a shaky step forward, feeling uneasy as she noticed the guards and unfamiliar faces waiting at the gate. Daryl saw her bite her lip and he swallowed his nerves, carefully sliding his arms around her waist, lifting her up, her legs returning to their place around his waist as he met her stunned stare.
"Can't have y'going so slow, Greene."
Slipping her arms round his neck, she rested her shin on his shoulder, hiding the wide smile on her face. He'd said something similar that morning in the house, carrying her into the kitchen, setting her down for breakfast. Daryl wasn't the type to ask or offer, he just did what needed to be done, but that didn't stop her feeling breathless when he scooped her up and held her, placing her on her chair, a hand lingering on her back. Beth felt embarrassed by how long she'd spent worrying that he might have changed since she left. That she imagined how much he'd opened up to her. He carried her through the gate, feeling her cling to him as they passed the guards, some of whom stared and murmured between each other. Daryl didn't care but Beth hid her face in his neck and almost made him stumble as her cheek pressed against his neck. He'd overcome the initial shock of her return and now his body seemed in need of the slightest touch form her. To feel her this close made the winter seem mild and his life seemed brighter. That was what Beth brought to this world and he had been dying without it. She shifted, her lips by his ear as she asked where they were heading, her voice shaking from the cold. He smirked to himself. Suddenly aware that Beth may not know about her sister. He'd been following Rick but now he took a turn down the alley that led to the house he'd soon enough be visiting daily. Letting her down, he kept an arm around her slim shoulders as he looked into her eyes, watching them widen in blissful shock as he spoke.
"Were going to see Maggie."