Chapter 4 -

Beth's eyes widened slightly before she grinned, grabbed her pack of cigarettes and her lighter from her pockets and lit one, inhaling deeply. She held the pack out to Merle, offering him a cigarette.

"You're Daryl's brother, aren't you?" she asked as he grabbed and lit a cigarette from her pack and took a deep inhale. The older Dixon eyed the blonde suspiciously before a look of understanding crossed his face.

"You go to that school. His new one, huh?" Merle took another drag on his smoke before downing the rest of his beer.

"Yup," Beth responded, popping the 'p' loudly. "You got any weed? How much can I get for $60?" Her blue eyes stared at Merle intensely as she pulled out her wallet and the cash it held.

"What makes you think I got any?" Merle smirked as Beth glanced at the door.

"The sheriff will be here soon, so hand it over and scram," the blonde replied, holding the cash out to the eldest Dixon brother. Merle frowned, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't take orders from some blondie with a mouth; unless she's putting that mouth to use. And I ain't got any right now. Tough luck, Small Tits," Merle smashed his cigarette into the ashtray and moved to stand. "And you'll have better luck whoring yourself out to someone else. Darylina ain't gonna be interested in your boyish frame." Beth jumped off the bar stool, her fists clenched at her sides and glared up at the older man in front of her.

"And you're just an asshole piece of garbage drug dealer. You just wish you were more like Daryl," she hissed, taking a step closer to Merle. "I am not a whore, I don't have a boyish figure, and I'll put my mouth to use in whatever way I decide, you dick."

Merle stepped closer to the blonde, his eyes steely as he stared down into her cold, blue eyes. Beth kept her glare even with his. She didn't care that he was taller than her. She had taken down the quarterback that morning. She could take down Merle Dixon if he kept insulting her.

"Beth! Merle!" Beth used her peripherals to see Carol hurrying around the bar to them. The blonde glared back at Merle before taking a step back and allowing Carol to guide her away from Merle. "You don't want to mess with him, Bethy.

"I'm not scared of him," Beth retorted, shrugging Carol's hands off of her shoulders once they were outside.

"It's not about fear," the older woman sighed, her eyes going over Beth's shoulders to the parking lot. "Rick's here."

"I know," Beth took a deep breath, tapping her left temple, "My internal clock knew he would be pulling up. That's why I let you bring me outside. I'm assuming he'll make me ride with him back to the farm, so I guess I'll be back later to get my bike." The blonde straightened her leather jacket, backpack, and helmet and walked up to Rick's car as he closed the car door, his sheriff's hat in his hand. The sheriff waved to Carol before looking down at the teen in front of him and gave a small smile. He leaned against the car door, his hands going to his badge. With easy movement, the badge came free from his shirt and he tucked it into his pants pocket.

"Let me guess, you're here as a friend and not a cop?" A soft snort escaped the blonde and she met his smile with one of her own, her hand reaching out to take the sheriff's hat from the older man. His blue eyes met hers and he nodded, handing the hat to her and watching as she put it on.

"Tell me about the fight at the school, Ms. Sheriff," Beth closed her eyes and leaned against Rick's patrol car next to him with a thud.

"He called Maggie a drunk college whore. And while she may," her blue eyes opened and met Rick's again, "or may not have drank alcohol before legal age," she smirked and Rick snorted and shook his head, "that doesn't label her as a drunk. And sure, she had sex in high school and in college, but it was all with Glenn. I can't stand when people accuse her, or even me or daddy, of being something we're not." The blonde sighed.

"So, you're going to throw a shit fit and assault people for saying bs?" Beth groaned at Rick's question. She was silent a moment, Rick watching her through his peripheral as her frown deepened and her shoulders tensed.

"While a valid point," the blonde growled, "I am a teenager and allowed to be irrational. Plus, it just…" she paused, her eyes closing tightly before reopening, "he deserved it."

"You've had a vendetta against him for three years now, Beth. Ever since Annie," Rick snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes in regret. He could feel the blonde straighten and step away from the car and sighed. He reopened his eyes to see Beth's had turned to ice. She yanked the sheriff's hat off of her head and shoved it into his chest.

"Are you taking me home or can I ride my bike back?"

"I'm sorry, Beth. You know, it's okay to talk about what happened. It's part of healing," Rick straightened the dent in his hat before standing straight and getting his car keys out of his pocket. The teen in front of him was frozen, her eyes dark, but he could practically feel the anger radiating off of her; her fists shaking at her sides. "How much did you have to drink in there? And tell me the truth" Beth scoffed.

"Nowhere near enough to deal with Maggie after dealing with you," she snapped. Rick nodded, ignoring her quip, his blue eyes meeting hers. The sheriff knew Beth well enough to know that she would let him know if she was incapable of driving.

"If you calm down, you can ride your bike home. I'll follow you. If you can't get rid of the anger, you're riding with me."

"Let's get this conversation over with," Beth mumbled, swinging her leg over her motorcycle and turning it on.

"Helmet," Rick reminded her as he opened his car door. "I'm buying you a second one so that you can wear one when you give Carl rides home. While I appreciate you giving yours to my son, I want both of you protected." Beth rolled her eyes and slid her helmet on, tightening the strap under her chin in an exaggerated fashion while staring at Rick to show him that it was fastened correctly.

Frankly the blonde didn't care if she wore her helmet. She almost wished for someone to run a red light and wipe the concrete with her body. It's what she deserved.

The door to Carol's opened, pulling her eyes away from the sheriff to the older Dixon brother as he exited the bar. She revved her bike, smiling as Merle eyed her beautiful motorcycle before glancing at her. Once their eyes met, she raised her middle finger at him, flipping him the bird as she popped her clutch and pulled out of her parking spot with Rick following.

Beth had honestly zoned out during the "conversation" about her behavior at the dining room table. It wasn't much of a conversation, more Maggie being angry and disappointed and confused. Rick helped to keep the older Greene sister in line while Hershel tried to give Beth opportunities to share. The blonde would just shrug, and the conversation would attempt to continue.

"I think we should see if your therapist can resume sessions, Beth," Hershel suggested softly. Beth rolled her eyes and looked over to her father. His eyes held a heaviness that she knew all too well. It had been there everyday for the past three years. Guilt gnawed at Beth's stomach and she felt nausea roll her empty stomach. The image of her mother, broken and bloody, flashed through Beth's mind. The blonde closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

It's my fault.

"That might be good, Beth. I've been seeing a therapist for the past few years," Maggie added. She was trying to make Beth feel better about needing therapy, which made the blonde hold in a scoff. It wasn't the fact that she had been or would probably be back in therapy that bothered her. It was the therapist.

"It's normal to feel what you have been feeling. They call it survivor's guilt," her therapist's voice echoed in her head.

It's not survivor's guilt when you're the one who did it, the blonde had thought at the time. She never said anything during her therapy sessions; just sat there and stared out the window. It's my fault mama is gone.