"I'm sorry."
Beth gritted her teeth, passing the crowd of guards who watched in confusion, her eyes focused on the road ahead. The road home. Anger and pain and frustration threatened to break her apart but Beth wasnt ready to let the world see how unstable she was. What she had done, what she had risked, was her business. To hell with anyone who judged her. Right now, all she cared about was getting home and hitting something. Hard. Feeling Daryl reach for her she bit her lip, drawing blood as her teeth dug deep into her quivering bottom lip. Her tone was razor sharp as she replied to Daryl, "Good for you."
He winced a little looking up from the ground, grabbing her arm, turning her to face him, frustrated when he saw her avoiding his eyes.
"I mean it. Shouldn't have acted that way... Not with you."
She pulled away from him, knowing she could walk away. He wouldn't follow. He wouldn't call her back. Daryl admitted he was wrong and in his tone she heard his old self loathing self. Beth took a step back and saw he staid frozen where he was. That's what made her stay. Knowing he hated himself so much he didn't think he deserved to go after her. Sighing, she looked at him, unnerved by how much fire burnt in those dark blue eyes, "so why did you?"
"You scared me."
Beth's eyes widened, unable to understand what he had just told her, confused by how uncomfortable be looked when he spoke. He knew all too well he'd stunned her. Shifting, he came a little closer, lowering his voice, "you risked your life out there... You wouldn't get back, I told you to leave..."
"How many times do I have to say it Daryl. I'm not leaving you."
Those words. Those same words. Words shed said to him when he told her to run and leave him back at the house. He'd told her to go and let her run straight into the claws of her captors. Those words had haunted his nightmares, echoed in the breeze, always there to remind him of how he'd caused her so much pain. Beth was too good to see he wasn't worth caring about. he gritted his teeth, unable to look at her, "That's what's scares me. You put me first. Stupid thing to do."
"Get used to it, Dixon."
Beth's tone was defiant, still edged with anger, though his downcast aura made it hard to hate him.
"You need to be careful Beth... We can't... You can't be reckless. Y'got too much to lose, Thas why y'cant follow me..." he looked up, stopping when he saw how her fist was shaking, how her eyes were shining, fiery, expression firm and darkened.
"Why the hell do you think I was out there?! To save what I had to lose. I'm not weak, Daryl. I'm not some kid you can order about and you of all people know that... Or I thought you did! Next time, I'll let you go get yourself killed," the anger was consuming her and she felt nothing but emptiness. A void created by the knowledge that Daryl didn't want her. Didn't need her. He didn't want her near him and that hurt worse than any bullet. He took her arm, the heat of his grasp threatening to turn her anger into another sort of passion.
"Beth you know..."
She pulled her arm away from him, unwilling to hear any more. However empty she might feel, she wasn't ready to stand there and have him see her act like a heartbroken teenager. She'd become much better than that, turning, ready to leave
"Don't worry Daryl. I won't follow you again."
...
Painting the nursery with Glenn was almost too normal. Too ordinary. Too fun. They didn't decorate by need, but by want. Beth didn't remember ever doing anything with him that didn't involve surviving or preparing for hard times ahead. Glenn was the one who always did the dangerous things. Evading walkers, scavenging missions, even fixing up the fence sometimes, when the prison defences were at risk and the walker hoards were dangerously dense. Here, paint brush in hand, lips curved in a permanent smile, he wasn't the same boy she knew. Here he was happy, still driven in that way Glenn always was, but his focus wasn't on keeping the group safe or risking his life to get supplies. Glenn was gonna be a dad, and here he was, getting the nursery ready for his child. She laughed when he complained about how he'd got paint on the floorboards, or the whispered curses he let slip when his painted sun was too oval or the mobile hung at an odd angle. Beth had heard him struggling from her room, Maggie in bed for a nap. Her sister slept most afternoons, staying up late, swearing the baby was nocturnal, dancing inside her as soon as the sun went down. Beth came to Glenn's rescue, eager to escape her conflicted thoughts and the stress of everything that had happened that morning, swiftly coming to his aid. She'd always been good at art and music. Anything creative. While Maggie was the science whiz and Shawn the math genius, Beth had stayed true to her country roots, finding her prowess in nature and harmony. Glenn was painting a mural. He wanted something for the baby to see from the cradle. a sweet gesture she appreciated. Not every dad cared so much. He explained how he'd come by the idea, "As a kid, my dad... He had an oriental garden painted all across my room. Boats and lilies... Even painted in my grandfathers home. Back in Korea."
She smiled, biting her lip in concentration, studying the wall. He'd done a descent job of the rolling valleys and soft pastel blue sky. Fixing the sun, she asked where the scene was from, surprised when he let out a laugh and shook his head.
"Must have done a real bad job if you don't recognise your own farm."
Glancing at him, Beth had to fight the need to cry and hug him. He'd not only touched a nerve, but Glenn had done this... For them. For their family. In remembrance of what was lost. Staying strong, she sighed and smiled, shrugging, "been a while since I saw home."
He nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder, giving her his brush, "how about we make a deal. You finish the mural while I fix the crib and mobile... Then I make you the best damn grilled cheese you ever tasted."
Beth didn't want to say she wasn't hungry. Her body seemed so tired and empty lately, but she nodded eagerly. The paints Glenn had received from Carly were all soft pastel tones and she could almost swear they were all the exact shades of life that she knew from her home in Georgia. Deep green, hazel brown, creamy white, golden yellow. As she formed the trees that bordered the farm land, she began to hum. Only after a minute or so did she realise she was humming the lullaby. Her lullaby. The one her father would softly hum on those nights when she couldn't sleep. When there was a storm, or when she was sick, or after her mother passed away. Smiling sadly, she began to paint her house, her home, swearing to herself she would sing the lullaby to Maggie's baby. For her father. In his memory. A soft melody in tribute to the warmest memories she had of the man who had been the light of her young life.
...
The church was a shadowy sanctuary. Great oak doors shutting out the cold the moment she closed them behind her. The smell of incense was thick. The hall was lit only by the few candles that lingered by the pulpit and along the rows of benches where the congregation should have sat. The walls were painted white and were bare, save for a shelf or two of books, the floor crafted from slabs of worn grey stone. Her footsteps echoed and she feared for. A moment she might wake some lingering spirits. A childlike fear of the shadows flickered inside of her, banished by the strength of who she had become. There was nothing to fear in here. The monsters lay outside. The walls seemed so bare, the only feature of the building that she noticed was the tall window ahead of her. Stained glass depicted a man with a sad face and flowing brown hair, hammered to a cross, blood spilling out from his wrists, his expression empty and wounded. Beth didn't like the depiction and yet she couldn't look away. It was hauntingly beautiful and somehow it beckoned her forward. Her heart almost burst with anxiety when she heard a shifting body nearby, looking to her left, smiling a relieved smile as she saw Carol waving at her, a bible in her hand.
"Hey Beth... Sorry if I scared you."
Beth let out a soft laugh and shook her head, rubbing her neck, relaxing slightly as she came over to her friend, sitting beside her, both looking up at the window.
"Looks like it hurt, huh."
Carols statement made Beth frown, realising she was also studying the window. Beth nodded in agreement, but her wrists felt as though they might have caught fire and she rubbed them absent mindedly, staring at the stained red blood in the window. Studying the crucifixion, she wondered how her father had clung to his beliefs in religion and god. Even in this world, with all the darkness and evil and madness. Beth could barely believe that there were men out there more dangerous than the undead, let alone that some unseen force in the heavens above was watching over the havoc and pain. Silent. Her father always said you can't question gods plan. You take what you have and you fight for what's good. Maybe she didn't believe in praying to the sky, but Beth believed in what good was left. She believed in fighting for something, for living instead of just surviving. Maggie called her a ray of sunshine, but the truth was, Beth was only trying to keep hope and faith alive in those around her. She wasn't always happy, wasn't always that girl who sang and smiled. It took a lot from her to be here. Alive. She overcame more than anyone knew. The scars on her wrists and her face were clear signs of how hard she'd fought to be amongst the living. Morgan called her Saint Beth. Maybe she was here in this church for a reason. Sighing, she sat back and let her eyes wander from Christ to the piano that was hidden in the shadows.
"Go on and play. I don't mind."
Beth frowned and turned to Carol, hands joined together in her lap as she stared down at them, at the pale skin and the lingering bruises, "didn't know you believed in... All this."
Beth glanced at the bible in Carol's hands, confused when the older woman shook her head with a small smile, settling the book by her side, "came here to think. Fancied reading something... Why you here, Beth?"
"Came here to think."
Carol smiled, brushing back a few stray locks of hair from Beth's face, "I heard about... You alright?"
Beth nodded, conflicted for a moment. Carol was the mother figure she had turned to so often. The woman who helped her care for Judith. The strong fighter Beth always looked to become. Here she was. Changed, yet still so lost. Looking over at Carol's concerned gaze, Beth decided to trust in her, "It ain't all about Daryl... Sometimes... "
After a lengthy silence, Carol slid a hand into hers and smiled reassuringly, "Go on."
"Sometimes I'm too scared to be happy. I can't... I'm scare it might all just... Fade. Everyone's so used to me being the one who hopes and dreams and smiles... But after all I've seen and all I had to get through... I'm so scared that the moment I let myself be happy, it'll all just fade away..."
Unable to form the rest of her sentence, she watched Carol, fingers trembling. She had spoken her true fears and they seemed more real now. Beth was afraid of losing this new life. She felt so disconnected and out of place at times but she was afraid for those she loved. For Maggie and Glenn and the baby. For Rick and Judith and Carl. For Carol and Tyrese and... Daryl. Deep down she knew she would never find the courage to face him again. Not because they had fought, but because she could never tell him. She could never open herself up and let him know she wanted to be there with him. In case he said he wanted her, and after brief moment of happiness, she'd be lost again. Thrown out into the wild where she would lose everyone. The fear was consuming her and she closed her eyes and tried to banish away the insecurities that plagued her, startled when Carol placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to face her
"You don't need to be afraid Beth, and if you want something so bad that it scares you this much... Then go for it. Back... Back when I had Sophia. When she was just a babe in my arms... I was scared because I knew I needed to leave Ed. So scared that I never... I never left... And I regret it every day. Every day, Beth. We can't let fear stop us from finding happiness. I swore to myself I'd stop caring, look after myself... Then Tyrese came along and I found the group... And I knew I couldn't be alone. No one can be alone."
Beth took a shaky breath and nodded, eyes shining bright as she forced a smile, "I'm such a mess right now... I can't shake what I saw... What I did..."
"We've all seem some... Awful things. Lost people we loved. Killed people because we had to. What matters... What matters is we carry on. Care for those who need us and love the people who want to love us."
Taking Beth's hand, Carol led her through the isle and up to the piano, dusting the seat, urging her to sit. As Beth tested the keys, Carol smiled and watched her, comforted to see her so enthralled. She saw Sophia in Beth's smile. In her happiness. Her daughter had always made life seem better than it was when she smiled. Ed didn't give her much reason to smile but Sophia would keep Carol from breaking apart. Stopped her from drowning in grief and dispare, no matter how hard she was hit or how imprisoned she felt. Even now, with hair almost covering her ears, Carol could hear Ed shouting. Warning her to cut it. To stop being a desperate whore. Carol took a shaky breath, fingers grasping Beth'a shoulder, voice uneven but strong, "Daryl didn't stop lookin' for you. Even when everyone else gave up. He's a good man. People might say he needs some fixin..."
Beth froze, eyes darting to Carol's, frowning, "I don't wanna fix him... It's not love if you want to change someone. You love them for who they are, what they are..."
"Love. Now that's the word I was looking for."
Carol smirked as Beth blushed and looked down at her fingers, pressing down a few keys, starting a song she just couldn't continue with. The word she had said was one she could not take back. Just as her fears were more real when spoken, Beth felt the weight of that word. Love. A word she had used so causally in the past. A word that never had such gravity. A different feeling emanated through her. One that made her stomach ache and her chest tighten. Breathless, she replied, "He doesn't..."
Carol let out a soft laugh, walking away, her words echoing as she walked toward the doors, "No one knows Daryl better than we do... Which is why I'm tellin' you now... Don't be afraid."
...
"Over there is great, Daryl."
Tyrese motioned to the pile of timber lingering in the square. They'd been working on moving the stockpile closer to town since the afternoon. Hell, Daryl had been eager to do anything that kept him from facing what had gone down earlier that day. At least here, his sweat dried in the cold and the wind chilled his aching muscles, the feeling of pain and weariness leaving little room for thoughts of regret and anger. He was focused on moving wood. On helping Tyrese. Everything else was a problem for another day. Someone was headin over from the church, Daryl heard footsteps and a familiar laugh, his eyes straying from the pile of wood to the woman standing close by. It was Carol. Her face was almost angelic in the soft light emanating from the dim street lamps. Her hair was longer, eyes brighter, but he could read her expression. What lay behind the smile. As Tyrese kissed her and left them, she approached Daryl, studying him for a second, wrapping her arms around herself as the breeze blew harder.
"How you doin'?"
He shrugged and murmured a 'fine' that made her sigh in frustration, saying his name, tone warning him of how much she really knew. Trying to pretend things were fine would be stupid. Not when he was with her. Carol knew him too well.
"Messed up. Nothin' new there."
"Except this time, your not just hurtin' yourself, Daryl. Your hurtin' Beth."
He looked up, frowning, nodding, all too aware of how right she was, "Maybe... But she gotta get over it. She's better off without havin' t'worry about me."
"Daryl.. You should know better than anyone... Once you care about someone that way... You can't turn it off. I saw you when she was gone... Didn't matter that she was dead. You never got over it. So why should she."
He hated how clearly Carol saw things. How dumb she made him feel. Hell, he had always known it would end up like this. He wasn't good enough. He'd never counted on Beth feeling anything for him, and seeing her out there, hearing how she said his name... It made it harder to save her from ending up like everyone else who ever cared about him. Carol didn't get that but she sure as hell made it hard to find a reason not to go running after Beth. The bell tolled. Tyrese left for his shift at the wall, offering to walk Carol home. As she left, she hesitated, turning to Daryl with a pleading look.
"Don't talk to me. Talk to her. She's in the church."
Warily, he walked up to the church, slowing at the door, the soft sound of piano leaving him with no choice. He had to go in. He had to hear her play. No better sound in the world than hearing Beth play. Carol had left it open a little and getting in silently was easy. He slid into the back row, sat low, watching the small blonde figure at the piano. She might be a ghost with how pale her hands were, how willowy a frame she had. Her voice was soft, phantom like traveling through the room, making the candle flames dance.
"Come on
"Hello world
Hope you're listening
Forgive me if I'm young
For speaking out of turn
There's someone I've been missing
I think that they could be
The better half of me
They're in the wrong place trying to make it right
But I'm tired of justifying
So I say to you..
Beth paused, sliding a hand through her hair, tossing it back, shoulders shaking slightly as she took a breath. Her father was on her mind. Her lost life, her lost family. Her mother and her brother. She was mourning them and Daryl knew it. He needed to go to her. Comfort her. Take her somewhere warm and safe and... He looked down, wishing for a moment that he had some answer to her grief. Some way of giving her the miracle cure for grief. Sad truth was, there was no way of getting over people you lost. He still missed Merle and it still hurt. Only difference was, he was used to being abandoned. When she started singing again, her voice was weaker and he hated himself for staying there, watching her in pain.
"Come home
Come home
Cause I've been waiting for you
For so long
For so long
Right now there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
The fight for you is all I've ever known
So come home..."
He didn't mean to leave her alone with her thoughts. To abandon her in the shadows where her demons lay. Her song called out to him, beckoning him toward her, making his head ache as he fought the need to call her name and take her hand. What kept him away? Why was he so reluctant to bridge the gap between them? With a silent sigh he knew the reason. Beth didn't just deserve an apology. Beth deserved better. If he went over to her, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from acting on every impulse harboured in his soul. Worse part was, he knew she wouldn't fight him. Something told him Beth would let him say what he felt and touch her the way he had when they had reunited. Maybe she might say... He ducked a little as she turned, relieved to see Beth didn't look behind her, instead, she pulled her jacket closer and kept playing, too weary to keep singing. Her fathers lullaby came to her mong, from the emptiness of the room, the tune soft on her lips as she slowly played the keys, practising the melody a few times before trying to sing the words, her voice suddenly strained.
"You are my sunshine
My...only sunshine
You make me happy..."
Slamming her hands down on the keys, Beth pressed her head in her hands and wiped the tears, sick of feeling alone and pathetic, startled when she heard the door close, spinning round. The room was empty but she hadn't imagined the sound. The creak of oak and shuffle of feet. Maybe her song had brought her father back. Maybe the old song had the power to summon the dead that lay at rest.
"Or maybe I'm just crazy," she whispered, standing up, staring up at the glass window one last time. There was Christ, bleeding for his peoples sins, staring into the darkness. A symbol of hope to some. Just like she had been. For Maggie, for Carl, for Daryl... Maybe she wasn't a saint, but Beth knew that she had a reason to keep fighting. To keep believing in a better future. Not for anyone else, but for herself. Crawling out of a grave, losing her memory, crossing the country, fighting to live... She'd done too much, proved herself too string, to linger here in the the shadows. There was too much too embrace, too many opportunities to take. As much as it hurt to know she might never have Daryl beside her, Beth knew her path had to be forged. Maybe when she was ready, when she had her own direction, Daryl might cross her path. Maybe then, she'd be brave enough to take that leap of faith and tell him. To tell him... She sighed, smiling through the tears.
"I love you Daryl Dixon."
...
The morning brought with it a sunny spell that melted some of the lingering frost that had settled on the park playground. Sky a hazy day dream of pale gold, streaked with cold grey clouds that warned of how brief a visit the sun would have that day. The few rays of sunshine seemed to call out for company, drawing out the children of the safe zone who had been bored of staying indoors waiting for spring. As cold as it was, they seemed undeterred. Cheeks red, jackets buttoned up tight, smiles bright. It was as though summer had never died. Beth watched them from the bench just outside the play area gate. Watched two boys throw dirt at eachother and run up to the monkey bars. Watched a small blonde girl squeal with glee as she slid down the slide, emerald eyes shimmering as she stared up at the sky and pointed excitedly to the birds flying over them. They all seemed content in their games. Engrossed in their own worlds. Imagination crafting a thousand adventures to keep them laughing, taking on dreamy persona's as they ran together. Cops and robbers. Doctor and patient. Games she'd forced Shawn and Maggie to play all those years ago. Her father always made time for her games. Life was lonely on the farm. Isolating at times. He'd play pretend vets and let her bandage up the horses leg. He would give her seeds from the barn and tell her to feed the hens like a real farmers wife would. In the summer, when Maggie and Shawn were away and days were long and lazy, he'd take her to the park.
How long had it been since Beth had visited such a place with her father? Years had passed, a decade maybe, but the memories were clear as though they had happend hours ago. Beth almost felt him there, almost saw him by the swings. The swings. How many hours had she spent swinging as her father pushed her. He'd sing to her as she swung higher. Always the same song. Their song. A song she'd never sung since he died and may never sing again. The pain was too real. Locked in the lyrics were memories too pure for this world. Too good. Here she was, alone, longing for a time of innocence that could never be restored. Her life now required for her to be strong and thick skinned, but Beth wanted, just for a moment, to feel like herself again. Breakfast at home had been nice. Maggie made pancakes and Beth had helped, enjoying the jokes her sister made, adoring the kick of the baby's foot against her hand when her sister alerted her to it's movement. When Glenn came home, he'd joined in, all sitting and talking and being a family... Except that when Glenn went to bed and Maggie left to see Tara, Beth was alone. She was grateful to have her sister and Glenn, but she wanted to belong to someone. To be looked at the way Glenn looked at Maggie. To feel safe when she opened the door and looked at the wall. To know that no matter what happened, she wouldn't be alone. Not again.
Morgan had left to find Rebecca and Jess. Beth had got up early, fleeing the house just in time to catch a glimpse of the SUV leaving through the gate. Snow was howling when she reached Morgan's house and she stayed with him a while, comforting the distraught creature. He was getting fat lately, used to rich meals and nights by the fire with his newfound master. She meant to take him home but he seemed so comfortable on the couch that Beth decided to take a walk and come back for him. That was how she found her place here. Out in the square, enjoying the solace and the lingering sunshine. A few woman passed her, talking energetically about Christmas and plans to bring in christmas trees from outside the wall. Beth hoped Maggie might be among them, but all were unfamiliar. Some cast her pitying looks which she loathed more than the frowns and sneers from some of the other women who were all too willing to show how little they liked outsiders.
Her wish for company was answered. Noah came beside her, a paper bag in his hands. Without a word, he held it out to her, her mouth twisting into a smile as she recognised the bags contents. Cookies. Taking one, she took a bite, eyes still drawn to the children playing, nudging him with her shoulder.
"You been okay?"
He nodded, staring at his whistle sneakers. They had a faded symbol she hadn't seen in a
long while. A sports insignia her brother used to have on most of his jerseys. Noah sounded weary when he spoke, "I'm tired of sitting around... Did enough of that at Grady's. I wanna find my uncle, but doesn't seem like their happy about it."
Beth remembered that Noah had lost someone. His uncle. Whether he was alive or not, she understood his need to find out, "did you talk to Rick?"
He nodded and shrugged, taking a cookie in his hand, neglecting to take a bite, "he said to wait till Morgan got back."
"Who went with Morgan?"
Noah tapped his lip with the crumbling biscuit, "erm... Tyrese and Sasha, then two guards from stockpile. They sent out a team to clear the road... Almost caused a war when Morgan ordered them to give him a car but Rick managed to negotiate."
"What are they gonna do about the whisperers?"
"Send out patrols, find the missing people. Apparently there's an old safe zone north of here near Washington. Whisperers been using it. Rick said he'd be going out with them..."
"With Daryl?" The question was swift and edged with concern. She didn't mean to ask, it was instinct. A part of her needed to know Daryl was okay.
Noah sighed and shrugged again, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry Beth, I have no idea. I'm getting all this from gossip and what Carl tells me."
She nodded, looking at the kids, frowning when she saw them leaving, running off. Some teenagers had arrived at the park. A group of girls with stern faces and loud voices. One of them cackled as she sprawled out over the play island, the other perched on the swings or collapsed on the floor. A boy was with them, mouth glued to one of the thinner girls as they made out by the tree. Some smoked, another carried a bottle of murky brown liquid. The innocence was replaced by depressed souls. Beth could see it in their faces. They were looking for distractions. Looking for ways to take their minds of what lay ahead. Beth didn't want to be here anymore but Noah sat back, seemingly relaxed, and she didn't want to be the one to flee. Three of the heavier set girls climbed over the gate and lingered closer to the bench, one watching Beth with a look of disgust. Beth didn't care.
"... And those newbies get the best shifts. My brother got moved to stockpile duty to help that black guy, Tyrese."
Their conversation caught Beth's attention, her eyes straying to the larger girl who seemed to agree, using some racial profanity that made Noah lean forward.
"Worst is that archer. Some hick bastard looking to rape one of ours. Should have seen him yesterday, Jamie said he was trying to do it with a dead one."
Beth couldn't believe she had heard the words spoken by the girl. She might have believed herself to be imagining the cold comment had she not looked over at Noah and seen him flinch. His mouth was set in a grim expression, eyes focused on the girl who had spoken. Beth gripped the bench, nails digging into the splintered wood as she tried to banish what she had heard. Noah warned they should go but the girl began to talk again, voice lower thought he words 'red neck' and 'dangerous' told Beth all she needed to know. Without a word she stood and walked over to the girl, whose friends glanced at her warily, backing away. The girl was older than her by ten years maybe, taller and fatter, looking at Beth with a smile, as though she were thoroughly amused. She was the well fed, big boned type who could throw Beth over her shoulder if she wanted to. Beth was faster, lighter, but if things got rough her chances of winning in a fight weren't good. As always, the odds were stacked against her, and as always, Beth didn't care. She glared at the taller girl. Beth wasn't looking for a fight but she wasn't about to let the girls comments go unaddressed,"Don't talk that way about people you don't know."
The girl let out a snort of laughter, looking down at Beth with a smirk, "Ease up Barbie, wouldn't want to find yourself with anymore scars than you already got."
With a final sneer, the girl walked to the side, about to pass Beth, fat fists clenched at her sides. Douglas had been sure to tell Beth how some people here didn't trust new people, how some could be a little wary. This girl wasn't being wary, she was being vicious, and Beth wouldn't stand for it. A part of her urged for her to let the girl go, but as she passed, Beth heard her whisper. It was low and sharp, almost like a the tip of a knife slipping silently into her ribs.
"Helpless bitch."
Before she was even aware of how her body was reacting, Beth had pushed the girl to the ground, falling on top of her. The girl scratched and clawed the air, hair obstructing her vision. Without hesitation, Beth's fist made contact with the girls nose, a sickening crack followed, joined by the girls anguished cries. Spurred on by pain and rage, the bloodied girl pushed Beth off her, grabbing her hair, dragging her to her feet. Beth tried to free herself but a punch to her eye came swiftly, followed by a kick to her stomach, old wound and lingering bruises crippling her. The girl lifted her up, jabbing a fat finger in her face. Her breath was warm and steam rose from her mouth.
"How dare you try..."
The girl was silenced by Beth's teeth enclosing around her finger, son long deep into the skin, blood filling her mouth. She wasn't sure how deep the bite was but when the girl pulled her finger free, Beth could swear she saw a brief glimpse of bone. She spat blood and pulled away. Them, Beth was falling to the floor, head striking the ground hard. Through her blurred vision she saw Noah and other unfamiliar faces holding the girl back, another coming over to her, helping her stand. Beth pushed the stranger away, spitting blood, her right eye throbbing, cheekbone aching. A whistle sounded and Beth groaned as she noticed a group of guards running over. She was screwed, spitting more blood, some striking the uniform of the nearest guard. Noah came to her side just as the first guard drew out a pair of handcuffs, warning her to stay still. Beth didn't resist. Why would she? She'd made her point. Glaring over at the bloodied girl, Beth smirked, voice loud and threatening.
"You fucked with the wrong person!"