AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: The surface ain't deep enough.
"These walls ain't good for anything if people can get in n' out with ease," Beth said, her features loose and eyes glued to Rick, who leaned back against large wood log along the perimeter of the raging fire. Beth strung her hands through the ends of her hair, hatin' that she cringed while feeling all the split ends there.
Rick lifted his hands, lacing them behind his head. Sighing, he glanced over to Michonne, who smiled sweetly to him. Beth's blue eyes stared at that smile. She'd seen something similar back at the prison, but this was different. "Defense is our top priority, then," Rick replied. The orange embers flickered over the two of them, illuminating soft edges Beth hadn't seen in Rick's features. Ever.
They were happy.
"Can't get cozy, though." Beth thought they needed a gentle reminder. The prison fell when nobody noticed anything going wrong. Daddy died because of it – not that she'd ever blame that on anybody. Their group failed him. It was on all of 'em.
Footsteps sounded from the right. Beth turned her head, peering over her shoulder and seeing Carl and Daryl glancin' down at a gun. Their voices deflated when they saw her. Beth dropped her eyes from them when Daryl's heavy, hidden gaze landed on her. She'd avoided him all day. Luck expired hours ago. She knew he'd been instructed to stay away from her, too.
"Carl, why don't you go with him to check the wall?" Rick said, voice controlled, precise. Calculated.
This was ridiculous. Beth reached out for Carl, grabbin' onto his sleeve and tugging gently. "Why don't you stay?"
Michonne straightened next to Rick. Swallowing, she tapped Beth's shoulder, quietly asking, "It wouldn't hurt to check one more time?"
Beth smiled with ease. It'd been forever since she'd spoken to Carl – forever since she'd seen him. He was alive, well. Why not take advantage of the time they'd been gifted. Besides, they couldn't tiptoe around her forever, neither. She wasn't the suicidal teen girl she'd been back on her farm. There weren't no need to treat her like a fragile princess. She'd come too far to go back now.
"I wouldn't mind 'em staying for a while. I got good food in my belly and a nice night's sleep. I'm fine," Beth assured.
Michonne and Rick shared a look. It was that look. Beth had seen similar looks along her way up. They didn't see her as an adult. Her decisions or wants simply didn't have the same weight to theirs. In any other place, that'd been fine. However, Beth threw her soul to hell to sit beside them.
Weren't that enough?
Whatever Rick said to Carl, the growing teen ignored, sitting beside Beth with a carefree grin sent her way. Rick grumbled, but Carl bumped his shoulder into hers before throwing his arm around the middle of her back, elbow resting on the log she leaned against. Through clenched teeth, Beth sucked in, hissing loudly at the prickles gnawing at the flesh under his rough touch.
Carl shied away from her. "I did nothin'!"
Beth crossed her legs, tryin' to chuckle lightly. "I fell out of a' tree a while back. I guess it ain't fully healed, yet."
Rick tilted his chin toward her. "We have medicine, Beth."
"So do I." They didn't need to waste any of it on her.
Michonne glanced to her, brow raised and mouth tight. "You do?"
Beth swallowed as her throat swelled slightly. "I've been in the area now nearing two weeks. I set up camps around the area. I got a few caches, too."
"You been here two weeks, girl?" Daryl said, voice louder than the cracking fire between them. Beth glanced at him. She hadn't heard him sit down, but sure enough, he sat at the opposite log. The fire's smoke distorted his body, which seemed to move back and forth in quick, sudden movements. She couldn't tell if he breathed as deeply as he appeared. The edges of the snapping fire, lightened parts of his face while others darkened. His mouth hung open slightly.
Beth squirmed, raising her knees together to wrap her arms around them and rest her chin on them. Her gaze dropped from his to the fire. "I don't know these people. I watched for a few hours the first day I got here. Saw plenty a' things. Didn't appear you had much welcome here at first."
"How much supplies you got?" Carl asked her.
Beth smiled, mouth gentle and her low hum smooth. My empire's all yours, girl. "An inheritance."
"What?" Who said it, she couldn't make out. Maybe some of 'em said it. Didn't matter.
"I met a small group just before Richmond. Things started rough, but when the group ran into a herd, me and one other made it out alive. We stayed together a while until…His group was all inmates. They'd survived this long by building up a drug network. Their consumers basically remained loyal to 'em cause a' that reason."
Carl looked most interested. His eyes were bright and posture all scrunched toward her. "How in the world did you inherit stuff?"
Beth glanced around. Michonne's gaze was no longer pleasant. She was swallowin' too much. Rick's fists curled. Beth's fingers fidgeted with the button on her plaid long-sleeved shirt. When the buttons relented, she pulled her sleeve up, revealing three words etched in ornate, swirly cursive: Alis Propriis Volat. Along the outside of her arm near her wrist, the words flashed a deep, sad laughter in the hollows of her mind – only briefly.
"What does it mean?" Carl asked, hands reaching for her to inspect it closer.
Beth cleared her throat. "She flies with her own wings."
"Why the tattoo?" Rick asked.
"I'm…" Beth gulped. "It's the mark of the gang leader…"
"Cool," Carl said.
Rick laughed, his tone clipped and his eyes glancing in all directions. "So you inherited a drug ring."
We have medicine, Beth.
So do I.
Beth's chest hardened as her eyes widened. "I ain't done no drugs, Rick. I wouldn't purposely do nothing to dishonor my daddy." Perhaps her innocence wasn't fully gone. Her stomach squished, a light tickle settling over her torso. "Can you imagine me doin' that?" she said aloud.
Michonne clasped her hands together. "That sure is quite an image to picture."
Beth lightly scratched at the tattoo, still moderately itchy. "Anyway, Becker gave me the locations of most of their caches in case I ever change my mind about all that…" she said, mostly wanting to fill the silence. "I took some of it in case I ran into any trouble the last few hundred miles. Came in handy once or twice, though I'm sure I gave those people way too much. I don't know nothin' bout drugs, of course…"
"Get anythin' besides that?"
Beth's bright eyes settled on Daryl. "I grabbed some huntin' gear, trap supplies, food, water, tents, hammocks, and such. A couple of their guns and a good portion a' their ammo, too…" Beth replied. "They had a shop…made their own bullets I think."
"How many bullets?"
Now she looked to Rick. Was she sayin' too much? "I haven't had a chance to count, but at least a couple thousand."
"That's a lot for one girl to carry up all that way," Daryl interrupted. Beth slid her eyes back to him. His hair had grown quite a bit. It seemed darker, but somehow exactly the same. He had a jacket on underneath his sleeveless angel wing vest. Her back itched again.
"They had a huge truck and several tanks a' gas I pilfered. It's hidden several miles west a' here with a few of my other supplies."
Daryl chuckled, nostrils flaring. "You're getaway car. In case you decided to run away." He was accusin' her. Rightly so. He wasn't wrong.
"I didn't know if you were all here. I had to take my chances and play it all as safe as possible."
"You did good," Rick interjected, his voice loud and chest puffed. His eyes were on Daryl. Between the two of 'em, things were being said, but no words were spoken. Finally, he turned to Beth. "I'm sure you know we're in good need of those bullets."
"I got more than just bullets."
"How much more?"
Beth sighed, lowering her tensed shoulders trying to relax a bit. "I raided an overrun military base a few days ago. There's plenty more there I couldn't take with me."
"What's included with that stockpile?"
"I took whatever I could carry. Small objects I think are bombs, grenades, a couple small guns, and a few knives…"
"All of that by yourself?" Michonne asked. The inflection on her last word surprised Beth. Was she impressed?
Beth looked down, pulling her sleeve down without buttoning it. "Walkers don't pay me much mind. I ain't sure why, but I can go a lot a' places others can't."
Rick laughed, almost snorting. "Beth, you may never know how much of a blessin' you are."
Beth tensed. "How bad are things here?"
"They can get the worst pretty quick if don' secure this damn place," Daryl said.
Beth picked at the cuticle around her thumbnail, biting her lip. "I'll show you my caches and camps if it'll really help the group." She sure as hell didn't need it all.
Rick's eyes widened almost as much as his smile did. He grabbed Michonne by the shoulders and rocked her back and forth a bit. "Things are turnin' up." She turned her head to look at Rick, reaching her hand to cover his.
She'd missed so much. Were they together? What happened between 'em? She supposed it was easier to care about others when you believed you were safe. On the road, all focus was on survival – the day-to-day. "I can take you to the closest site now, if you want."
"Nights are dangerous," Rick said – as if that should explain something he hadn't said yet.
Beth nodded. "Exactly. It's easier to move with everyone holed up."
His eyes twitched. "We'll start at dawn."
"I need to go back to my campsite for something anyway."
"Can't it wait till morning?" Michonne asked.
Beth's brows drew downward. "Not really. You all locked me up most a' yesterday and spent all of today babysittin' me."
"We're hardly babysitting you, Beth."
Beth squared her jaw, snapping her shoulders back. "Rick, I've been at your side all day."
"I showed you how to shoot at your request," he said, as if that should be the end of the discussion. When she cocked her head, he rolled her eyes. "Besides, I needed you to help show me the weak points in our walls."
"Anybody with eyes could see 'em, Rick," she said, voice trembling and weak. "I ain't a walker." Her eyes were heavy, filling with a thick sheet of moisture. "I ain't gonna turn unless the connection's not severed in time."
When Rick started to stand, Michonne held him down, shaking her head a bit until she looked at her. "It was my idea, Beth." Before she could reply, Michonne sighed. "We don't know your condition…how vulnerable you are."
"I understand that," Beth said. "I can take care of myself is all."
Michonne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "If you can take care of yourself, then why come back?"
The urge to look Daryl's way tortured her, but she resisted. "Ain't nowhere left for me to go." It wasn't quite a lie. Daddy always said lying wasn't any good, but it weren't the whole truth.
"We needed to know if you were unstable. You said your emotions make you sensitive. We have so many lives counting on us to protect them," Michonne said, words nearly fading underneath the loud fire's crackles.
"Just because my emotions make me vulnerable don't mean I can't feel at all, Michonne." A tear slid down her cheek, past the large scar on her cheek, but she swiped at it before it could fall further. Clearing her throat, Beth stood up. "I was going to ask if Carl could help, but since it's night, I suppose I can take Daryl."
"Ain't gotta ask twice," he said, gravel rumbling low in his throat. He stood to his feet and started walking toward his house.
"Wait!" Rick shouted. "We wait for dawn!"
Beth turned to him, eyes vicious, shiny, and wide. Wiping at her lashes, she sniffled. "I'm just fine, Rick!" She stood and shook her head. Before she turned away, she met Rick's hard hues affixed to her own. "I'm strong. I fought. I killed, Rick. People hurt me…tried to kill me – several times over." She placed her hands over her body, patting a few times. "But I'm here." Her voice cracked, but she remained resilient. She pointed to the ground by her feet. "I'm here, Rick."
Rick looked passed Beth, over her shoulder. "We need Daryl for a run planned in the morning."
Daryl stepped closer, directly behind her. His body heat radiated onto her, his breath hittin' her ear. "Find someone else, Rick." It was a challenge. She'd know that tone anywhere. That was all he spoke, but she felt what he was wordlessly saying at her back…without understandin' a any of it. These men had their own code or somethin'. Always had, but especially now.
He grabbed her arm, just above her elbow. His warmth permeated through the sleeves of her shirt. "Let's go, girl."
Beth followed him, not shrugging him off. She snapped her head around as he spun her body in the direction he stalked off in, eyes where his hand clutched her. She dragged on a step behind him off to his side. Her eyes went to his vest, fading wings front and center in her gaze.
"It's nice havin' your eyes on me again…"
Beth snapped her eyes up to his turned head. He stared down at her. Did they just go on like yesterday hadn't happened? Was she supposed to act like nothin' changed…that she hadn't been bit? He slowed, pulling them out of Rick's sight around the corner of a nearby house. He leaned up against it, hand never leaving her arm.
His thumb started rubbing her, up and down. Back and forth. Slowly. Noticeably slowing, but unending. A shiver stunted her exhale. "We ain't gonna pretend everythin's peachy, Beth," he whispered. His eyes darkened underneath his curtain of bangs hiding them. The light above them did little to help her see him fully. Shadows concealed most of his face, since he looked down to her. He lifted his fingers to trace the scar on her cheek. She watched his throat bob swiftly. "We can't start over – ain't gonna go backwards. But we gotta start somewhere…"
It didn't mean they would ignore everything. It just meant neither was quite ready to pick back up the pieces. Her eyes dropped to his hand, seeing a nearly perfect circle on his skin near his thumb. She reached for his hand, rubbing her fingers over the spot. She didn't recognize it. "What's this from?"
Daryl snatched it away, clearing his throat. She didn't touch him, stifling her habit of reaching for him when he'd pull away from her. Beth backed away. She wouldn't hover. "I'll tell you everything, Daryl. One day, you'll know me again." She looked at her boots. "I…" she said, clearing her throat, "I hope I can know you again someday."
The wind blew, but all she felt on her was his eyes. Eventually, he stood away from the wall, saying, "Somewhere?"
"Somewhere," Beth added, voice low, but hopeful.
Silence.
Between another bracket of moments, it settled over them – comfortable, familiar even. Every so often, Beth paused, shoving her flashlight in one direction and whisper, "Walker." Not too many tonight. Neither wanted to draw much attention beyond her light, so Daryl shot his bolts at them. Beth slowed or stopped, waiting for him to reclaim his bolt and find his way back to her.
Daryl hadn't asked how she could know the walkers were getting close – even though they hadn't gotten more than fifty feet of 'em. Beth couldn't explain it, anyway. She just knew when they came close. The distance seemed to fizzle out anywhere beyond seventy feet or so. A little over an hour into the forest, Beth tipped the light up, seeing her hammock peeking through.
"You been up there? I walk right through here on some a' my huntin' runs," Daryl asked, not caring about the loudness of his voice.
Tilting her head back, Beth's eyes narrowed. "This tree's stump opens up all the way up there. Ten feet into it is where this stash is…attached to a thick rope tied to the outside trunk. The bag has back straps on it, but I'm thinkin' I'll give you the honors."
Daryl softly chuckled. "Just usin' me for my muscles, girl?"
It was one a' those times when she just didn't know if a hidden message lied beneath his words' surface. Beth looked down, over to him. His eyes came down to her, his smile vanishing. Months back, she'd ignore the message – because she so easily knew exactly what he used to mean underneath what he'd say. Things were different now. Maybe she'd changed too much to decode him anymore.
Perhaps they just needed time to find each other again.
"When you find this man again, Beth, you ain't gonna let 'im go, okay?" Becker muttered through the fever. Beth's eyes were puffy. She could a' saved him, but he wanted to die.
Her silence distracted him. "You listenin'?"
Beth shook her head. "I am, Beck." She shoved her hand under her nose as she sniffled. "He would a' thought you were decent, you know. Like I do."
"You don't know what I'd done, girl."
Distracted. Beth chided herself. She couldn't afford a mistake. Daryl still looked at her, eyes brimming with questions she actually could read. He didn't press her.
"You good to go?" he asked.
Beth nodded. "I'll climb up halfway in case you need backup."
"Welp…" Daryl said, a tired sigh accompanying his bracing tone. "Age before beauty, I guess."
Daryl hoisted himself up the tree with limited ease. He grunted a lot and swore under his breath even more. Eventually, he got to the top, peeked over into the tree and tugged on the rope, illuminated by the flashlight Beth lent him.
Halfway down, Beth lowered her head, seeing nothin' but darkness in every direction. Her heart clenched about six times, sporadically. "Walkers," she said loud enough for him to hear from up at the top.
Daryl shifted the bag over each shoulder, lookin' down she thought. "How many?"
"Three."
"Ain't nothin'."
Beth bit her lip. "Without the flashlight, I can't tell where they're comin' in from."
She heard him slowly come down back to her. More grumbling and cursing caused her to smile gently. "This shit's heavy, girl."
"We'll take turns lugging it back to camp."
He was above her, so she balanced on the thick branch while holding onto a higher one for stability further out so he could fit. The flashlight was in his mouth now. He held onto the bag and the tree, so he extended his neck out to her. She reached for the flashlight, fingertips brushin' his lips briefly. She held herself together and didn't jerk back.
Flashlight in hand, Beth tilted it downward. Three walkers prowled around their tree. As soon as the light hit them, they snarled. Daryl reached across her to hold onto the same branch she gripped. "Take the bag for a sec. Pass me my bow." Beth forgot about the bow she had across her back.
She reached one arm to the bag, shruggin' it onto her arm to support the bag. Meanwhile, he reached over her shoulder to tug at his crossbow secured around her body. With gentle ease, he shimmied it over her shoulders in sync with her accepting more of the bag's weight. His arms were around her. All he needed to do was pull it over her.
Bold eyes swept over hers. She could see his even in this wretched darkness. He was so close – felt closer than he'd ever been to her. As she sighed, her body shook, causing the breath to stint to sound like she was shivering.
Maybe she was.
It had been too long since the last time anyone pushed her to feel this much. The difference was, at any point before the prison's fall, she hadn't. Not this. When all this started, she'd needed something. Never realizing what that something was, she'd thrown herself into Jimmy and then Zach. Both were taken too soon. She'd always miss them, but not quite as badly as she'd once thought. Was she a bad person for admittin' that? She yearned for her daddy to be there with her. He'd know what to tell her to make her okay again.
Age hadn't ever come up much since the looming days of the dead arrived. Carl, a child much a few years her junior, shot, killed, and bled. Just like all the adults protecting them. It might've takin' her a while, but she was no longer that helpless girl.
That somethin' was stalking over her halfway up this tree. The way his eyes pooled, sizzling with an unfamiliar emotion she just didn't know what to do with, captured her mind and clutched her heart till it touched her rib bones, painfully beating away endlessly. Her toes grew numb, but Beth couldn't find it in her heart to care for the moment.
Daryl was speakin' to her in tongues – a new language only she was too stupid to understand. He hadn't said anything. She would've known, too. She was staring right at his lips close to her nose. He was sayin' things to her she just couldn't coherently comprehend.
Daryl was at least thirty, she supposed closer to thirty-five if not well over. Beth knew she was around nineteen. Before she'd been taken from him, things had been normal – easy. They moved in sync after they found their understandin'. It hurt she couldn't read him all that well anymore.
The longer she fixed in on his mouth, the clearer Carol came into mind. They'd been so close at the prison. Beth's lack of experience propelled Carol into him in a way she knew meant trouble for her in some way.
"Take her out a' your head now, girl," Daryl whispered.
Beth's stomach clenched as her body began to shake. She felt him accept the bag's weight onto his shoulders. He still listened to her frequency. He understood her. Beth wished she could hear his echo again. She'd been waitin' for it long enough. Tears poured over her lashes and onto her cheeks. Her brows drew close. When she lifted her eyes, she saw his eyes spilling, too.
"Daryl," Beth said, the walkers' snarls almost drownin' out her completely. "I feel too much." She didn't know what all it was in her chest, but she knew it was too much, and that frustrated her all the way to heaven and back.
"Beth, now ain't near the damn time, but Carol ain't nothin', ya' hear?"
His bangs brushed her forehead as a smooth breeze blew through them. The texture of it was different. Maybe because it was clean for once. His wisps brushed up again, and she fell into him, wrapping her arms until her hands joined behind him low on his back. Her head tucked right under his chin.
Her chest heaved. "That don't matter, Daryl."
He must have turned his head, because Beth felt his lips move against her head. "Matters to me, a' right?"
The wind picked up, causing Beth to shiver against him. He hadn't lied to her. At least after they left the prison together. Somehow, though, Beth doubted him – however minimally. A part of her almost didn't want to believe him. Closing her eyes, Beth moved her head up, seeing the huntin' hammock. "Let's camp here tonight?"
Daryl didn't reply. He just looked down and swallowed, his shoulders pivoting to get his bow around her. With a nod, she went up first, but not before claiming the bag and handin' him the flashlight. Up at the top, she tied the rope back around the handles and slid it back into the hollowed tree. He was behind her, but moved onto the hammock.
Holding his crossbow with one hand, he held out his other for her. Once she steadied herself, she grabbed onto him and curled up by his side. He laid his crossbow by his feet, but kept it in his hand. His other arm looped around her lower back, thumb moving like it did back in the compound. "Sleep. I'll take first watch."
Almost immediately, she complied – except she didn't wake up for her watch.
