Chapter 6: Present Tense

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

They talked about him like he couldn't hear, wasn't even there. Daryl could hear every word Glenn was saying.

"It's Daryl," Maggie cut him off.

"Exactly, he tried to blow his brains out twice last night. I had to wrestle his gun away while Tyreese held him down." Glenn's voice grew more hushed but no less urgent as they got closer to where Daryl was standing...sitting vigil by Beth's grave, but they stopped some distance away.

If he had room for more pain, he would've been hurt by what Glenn was saying...thinking he might hurt Maggie.

"Maybe you shouldn't have." There was personal pain there. Maggie was on the edge too. Daryl recognized that.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just nothing. Glenn, let go of me..."

She sat by him on the hard ground, drawing her knees up in front of her. Didn't say nothin' for the longest time.

"Beth's with Daddy now..." Maggie was all choked up.

God...he couldn't take it...her pain...looking straight ahead, avoiding. Hershel...that was his fault too. Beth...he wasn't ever gonna recover from that failure...that loss. If God gave his sorry ass enough time, Maggie would probably die under his watch. He'd single handedly cause the destruction of the entire Greene family...their entire bloodline would be wiped out 'cause of him.

"Did you really love her?"

His gasping sob should've been all the answer Maggie needed, but Beth, she deserved more. Bowing his head, just accepting the pain, he nodded. Maggie took his hand. Daryl didn't know if he wanted it or not...but he let her have it...just didn't squeeze back.

"Beth's hand...it was so small...so soft..." He didn't know why or how he managed to say it, but Daryl didn't feel like he had much control over anything anymore.

Now it was Maggie feelin' the pain. "I loved her too..."

Loved?

Maggie said loved...past tense. You didn't just stop loving when someone died. Love didn't die...at least Daryl knew his wouldn't, and he knew absolutely nothing about love before Beth.

I love her.

Daryl's love...it was present tense...

"You lost Merle...your brother...you know what I'm feeling...Beth...my sister..." Where was Maggie going with this? "But you...you lost Beth...and I don't know what that feels like...I can't know..."

Daryl wasn't lookin' at her, but he knew she was crying because he could hear the tears in her voice. Was Maggie being selfless...thinking about him...his pain? Either way, he hoped she never had to feel what he was feelin'...never lost Glenn. No one deserved that. She squeezed his hand harder, and Daryl gave back.

Things went all silent, but Maggie stayed, and she didn't let go of his hand. Somehow it was okay; he didn't need her to leave just then. One thing Merle always said...blood tied people whether you liked it or not. Maggie had half Beth's blood...the sisters shared Hershel. For that...for Beth...he would share his pain with her. Something changed. He looked down at his hands watching her...watching Maggie taking a cool damp rag, wiping the blood from his hand. She was being so gentle with him, and gentle wasn't the easiest way to get the job done. He just watched, watched Maggie focusing on the cracks in his knuckles, turning his hand over, rubbing at the dried blood turned black in his palm. Beth's blood...it was on his hands, and all the water in the world wouldn't wash that away. Maggie glanced up, catching him watching her, but he didn't look away. Maybe she was pitying him...but what she was doing...it was a kindness...

"Beth wouldn't have wanted to see you like this...hands all bloody..."

When she was done, Maggie sat up on her knees beside him, pressing a comforting hand on his back.

"I can't know how much...but I know it hurts..." Her voice trembled, but she didn't cry.

"Only when I breathe..."

It was nearing sunset when Father Gabriel laid the wooden cross beside him, not speaking...not saying a word. The entire day had passed, and Daryl hadn't moved. Now the sun was starting its descent into darkness, the fading light passing through golden autumn leaves casting an amber glow on the world. Beth was gone...the whole world should be in mourning...gray and dark and somber. But she always saw the light and goodness...she was his light. She would've thought it was beautiful. He picked up the cross, resting it in his lap. A plain wooden cross.

She believed in you...you let her die... Daryl cursed God for that, but the same applied to him too, and he hated himself...held himself to a higher standard.

Stupid cross. A fucking grave marker. What did it matter? The world was dead. Soon everyone would be dead. Who would be left to remember or care? But then...that day at the country club...

Help me take her down.

Daryl had watched Beth struggling with the woman's corpse, not understanding...not getting it.

It don't matter. She's dead.

Beth looked at him with those wide blue eyes...those eyes that saw the good in the world...those eyes that always saw him as a better man than he knew he was.

It does matter.

All his moments, everything beautiful and good...the moments where he actually felt alive, they all came back to Beth. Looking down at the cross again, Daryl pulled his knife, digging it deep into the wood, carving out the most perfect letters he could manage.

Beth Greene

Beloved

He should've carved it to say Beloved Daughter and Sister. He should've...but they gave the cross to him...she was his. But he didn't know what it should say. Beth wasn't his wife. She wasn't even his girlfriend. He hadn't even kissed her...Daryl pressed his palms against his eyes...his face was so raw from crying that the salty tears burned hot tracks down his cheeks. Beth wasn't any of those things to him, but she'd been so much more...everything. What was he supposed to write when there were no words...

When he was done, Daryl pounded the cross deep into the ground with the butt of his crossbow. Kneeling in front of it...he wouldn't fall to his knees before God, but he would honor...worship her. Daryl traced his finger over the smooth letters he'd immortalized in her cross.

Beth Greene

Beloved of Daryl Dixon

"It does matter, Beth...it does matter..."