A/N: I'M BACK!
Hello loyal followers, happy 2016! I am sorry it has been so long since I've updated. I have just been enjoying the holidays and have had a MAJOR mental block with this chapter (see more in the A/N at the end).
Companion song: "Blue Eyes" by Cary BrothersDisclaimer: I do not own or have any rights to the characters/plot of TWD series. I am just a fan exploring the marvelous, macabre world Robert Kirkman created.
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Chapter 23: Answers
"Why don't ya go talk to your sister?" he asked her. She balked for a moment. She hadn't really even considered asking Maggie. They were sisters, but for some reason she felt that it was Daryl that had her answers. Then, after overhearing Morgan and Daryl talking, she was absolutely certain of it.
"They're not answers that she can give me," Beth told him.
"What the hell could ya possibly want to know from me?" his voice was raised now, hackles going up.
This reaction confirmed what she already guessed. He knew things. Things he didn't want to tell her. And she wouldn't back down now.
"I want to know how I got shot." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. She hopped out of the little wooden chair she'd been waiting in. Beth got right in Daryl's face. He seemed stunned for a moment, and then his face hardened.
"Beth… it won't do any good to—" he began, but she cut him off. There was no way he was getting out of this.
"Don't you dare try to tell me that it's pointless to relive the past. You can say that for yourself but it not reliving the past for me. Because I don't even remember living it the first time," her voice was stony, but it almost cracked at the end.
Daryl must have heard it because his face softened a miniscule amount.
The crinkle between his eyebrows grew more pronounced and then he set his bag that he'd been fumbling with on the ground. The bed creaked as he sat on it and leaned against the wall behind him. He got as far as he could away from her, creating distance even in the small guest room. So many seconds of silence that passed between them that she thought she could feel the Earth revolve around the Sun.
"You were in the hospital in Atlanta… a friend was… in trouble and you stuck up for 'im," Daryl didn't elaborate further. Which only served to piss her off.
"Who was my friend? Who killed me? Why was I in the hospital?" she fired the questions rapidly, unsure which one she wanted answered first.
"Her name was Dawn, she was some sort of cop that locked everyone in that hospital. Kept 'em scared and chased 'em down when they tried to escape," she could see the anger flaring up in him now as he talked. His voice grew rougher, colder and his eyes shot daggers into the wall where Beth was sure he was picturing the scene. "Noah was your friend, you helped him escape and then you saved him when Dawn tried to trap him again."
He clammed up at that point.
Beth sat back down into the chair, her back slouching against the wooden slats. Her legs had started to go numb. Daryl made her seem like some sort of tragic hero. Getting shot to save a friend from a terrible fate.
But she did note that he ignored the last question about why she was in the hospital to begin with.
"Noah's from Virginia, isn't he?" she asked softly, her whisper travelled across the dark room. Beth was putting the pieces together. If Noah was from the hospital, Kyle and Dr. Edwards would have known him. That was the friend they had been taking her to.
She glanced up and saw Daryl nodding in confirmation.
"He left Atlanta with y'all after I died?" she asked in an attempt to get all the information.
Again, the only encouragement from Daryl was a small nod of his head. His somber attitude was foreboding.
"He's not here… So did you guys take him home?" Beth thought that she already knew the answer to this inquiry, but she was hoping her instinct was wrong.
There was a long moment of tension before Daryl finally answered, "We tried."
When he looked up and met her expectant gaze he sighed and reluctantly continued the story, "His neighborhood was already overrun. There was no one left when we got to Richmond. The walls had been knocked down and everything useful had been looted already." Daryl's voice was on autopilot. It was a story that had been repeated, and explained before. "He came to Alexandria with us, survived all the way across the fucking country… but then got killed on the first run he went on."
He shook his head and Beth heard him mutter something under his breath. She didn't bother asking him what he'd said.
The silence stretched on and Beth tried to think of what question she wanted answered next. There were so many that had swirled around in her head for the last two years but now her mind was blank. She would come back to how she got in the hospital, she needed to know the answer to that but she'd let Daryl think he'd wormed out of that one… for now.
"What happened to the rest of my family? Did… did you know them or were they already…" she let her question trail off.
Morgan was able to tell her a lot about how the apocalypse started, about the old world and so many other things. However, he could never tell her anything about her family and her personal history.
"Never met most of your family," he said but there was hesitation in his voice.
What is he holding back? She wondered as she narrowed her eyes at him skeptically.
Daryl noticed the glare and he caved, "I saw some 'em. As walkers." He wiped his hand over his face, looking exhausted.
Her breath caught in her throat but she managed a croaked, "Who?"
"Your brother and your mom," he said solemnly. "I don't know their names or anything. You'll have to talk to Maggie about all that." There was a mean edge now, but there was an undertone of pleading she realized. He really didn't want to be the one informing her about her dead family.
"So the only ones left were me and Maggie?" she wondered how her and Maggie survived on their own at the beginning while the rest of their family turned into monsters.
"No… There was a guy named Otis, his wife Patricia, your…friend Jimmy and... your dad." Daryl said between long pauses.
"All dead now," she said without question. People didn't just leave. They either died or they turned. She knew what happened, she didn't need details.
Daryl stayed still in his position on the bed, arm resting on the knee he had pulled up on the mattress with him. The sound of Lucky's nails clacking on the hard wood floor of the hallway penetrated through the closed door. Lucky was her family now, and had been since the moment she saw him under that porch in the snow. This thought was soothing because Beth knew Lucky and those memories couldn't be taken away from her.
"Will you tell me about them?" she requested in such a soft voice that she wasn't entirely sure that Daryl would be able to hear her across the little room.
But he sighed and she knew he heard her. He shook his head and looked as if he was about to refuse her request.
"Please," she begged and she tears welling up in her eyes. It was absurd. She didn't cry, she just wasn't a crier. She hadn't even cried when Kyle died. But suddenly, she felt so overwhelmingly empty. It was as if the bullet truly left an empty crater inside her, only it was huge. So much larger than a bullet. The hole inside her was gaping. In it were all the memories that had been stripped away from her, in it was all the family she'd never know, all those pictures that would have been hanging on the walls of her home just like all the other houses she'd looted or slept in.
Blinking the moisture away and swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she told herself not to be so weak. Especially in front of a man like Daryl, so stoic and strong. When her eyes traveled back up to where he sat on the bed, she knew she'd been caught because his eyes were skirting away as soon as he noticed her glanced up at him.
He picked at a scab on his finger and began, "Well Patricia was real nice. Didn't talk to her much because I never came inside the house. But she helped save Carl when he'd been shot and she helped cooked dinners for everyone. Otis… well he got killed when he went out to get medical supplies. I guess it was kinda his fault we needed the supplies, but if he hadn't shot Carl none of us ever woulda gone to the Greene farm in the first place. Poor Glenn probably would've died a virgin," the smallest of smiles perked the edge of his lip up but then he seemed to look guilty and turned serious again. "I never really hung out with Jimmy. I think ya musta known him from school or something... he was your… uh," he sputtered and then remained silent for a beat. "A herd passed through the farm and there was a fire. Lost a lot of people, Patricia died getting pregnant Lori out of the house, Jimmy died trying to save Carl and Rick."
Beth sat contemplating the new information. She had lived on a farm with her family. It sounded like they all died for good reasons.
But they all died to save this new group and suddenly she was pissed.
"So you're saying all of them died to save your asses!" her voice had risen and Lucky whimpered and began scratching frantically at the door. Beth took a calming breath and reminded herself that it was nighttime and she was in someone else's house. "Stop it Luck," she commanded quietly. The mutt heard her, however, and the sound of nails on wood stopped.
"Yeah, they did. Everyone who's alive still, is alive because other people sacrificed themselves," Daryl's response was serious and unflinching but his voice was small, he was clearly ashamed at this truth.
"And you just let them die?" She asked, calm one again. At least she was finally getting some answers.
He just nodded his head, his hair falling over his eyes so his face was consumed by shadows.
"Then how am I supposed to trust any of you?" This was an important question. This was a test. Everyone Morgan and Beth crossed paths with over the past 2 years, boasted of how trustworthy they were, even when they were thieves, rapists and murderers.
Daryl's answer abated her anger short though, "Shouldn't trust anyone." She stared at him in disbelief but he wouldn't meet her eyes, instead he kept staring at the bolt in his hands. "Not until they really prove it to ya." He looked up at her and her breath caught under the weight of his blue eyes.
This, somehow, was the perfect answer.
He wasn't pretending. He wasn't making crazy promises. He wasn't telling her to trust him because of what they had years ago. Daryl was allowing her the time she needed. In his own way, he was telling her that he would prove that she could trust him.
The hunter looked down and the spell was broken between them. She found her breath again, sucking in a huge gulp of air. Beth tried to regain her train of thought and after several more clearing breathes she managed to come up with another question.
"What about my dad?"
Daryl sighed loudly, it came from deep inside him as if he was pulling air from every limb in his body. He set the bolt aside and gave Beth his undivided attention. She could tell this was important to him, it seemed like he really wanted to get this part of the conversation right.
"His name was Hershel and he was the best man I've ever known. Met him first when he saved Carl after he'd been shot. In the old world, he was a veterinarian, but in this world he became our doctor. Saved a lot of us, stitched us up, hell he even stitched strangers up. He was just a genuinely good person," there was a smile on his face now. Not a real smile, like most people, but the slight tugging of his lips that characterized a Daryl-smile. "And a real tough sum-bitch too. He was bit once, we were clearing the prison and walker that we thought was dead ripped a big chunk right outta his calf. So Rick chopped the bottom half of his leg off to stop it from spreading. There was so much blood and he was quiet for so long—" he cut himself off and seemed to realize that this topic might upset her.
"Yeah, lots of blood and guts. I get it, I'm not squeamish. Go on," she prompted.
"Anyway, he survived in this damn world with only one leg and some crutches. Still managed to be the most moral person out of all of us. Even when The Governor came to kill us all he still wanted to work out a solution so everyone could live," his smile faded and his eyes were unfocused. His forehead creased, with anger and regret.
That's how he died, she realized. He died saving other people too.
"Who's the Governor?" She asked, pushing through this new awareness, she wanted the full story.
"A dick who had too big of an ego, wanted everyone to fall in line with him, created an army of other dicks who came to steal what we had at the prison," Daryl summarized aptly.
"He killed Hershel… my… my dad?" It was almost a statement, she knew it from the way Daryl looked when he first mentioned the Governor and now she just needed his confirmation.
Daryl just gave one slight nod.
"Where is he?" She asked in a growl.
"Woah there, ripper. He's nothing but a trampled patch of grass at this point. Michonne took care of that," he said with another small grin.
Beth felt herself relax back into the chair again, "I knew I liked her."
Her mind was reeling now. Full of information that Daryl had given her, mostly she was thinking about her father. The fact that he had one leg seemed to itch at something in the back of her mind, like a dream that left a ghost of an impression inside her eyelids, but that faded each time she tried to recall it.
After several minutes of silence, where Daryl picked at the holes in his pants, he finally spoke up, "So, uh, was that it then?" He said clearly trying to dismiss her from his room and get out of answering any more questions.
Beth actually smiled at him; his discomfort told her that she was getting close to the good questions. "You're not getting away that easily, Mr. Dixon." But then she turned serious again, her smile sliding off her face, "When the Governor came to take what we had at the prison, is that when it fell?"
He grunted in the affirmative.
"What happened after?" she asked, staring directly into his face now, waiting for any type of reaction. And she got it.
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He felt his jaw snap shut at her question. This is exactly what he didn't want to discuss: what happened after the prison.
Shit.
He still hadn't decided what to do. Should he lie to her? This didn't seem right. If he ever wanted to earn her trust back, he couldn't start out by lying. Besides, this was Beth. He couldn't lie to her. She'd always been able to tell when he was lying, she could spot the cracks in his stories from miles away. Should he tell her everything? This didn't seem like a good option either. How would he even begin to describe everything that had passed between them in those weeks on the run? Plus, it wasn't going to win back any trust to tell her that he was the reason she was abducted and taken to the hospital where she got shot.
You're outta time now, jackass. Gotta say somethin' he thought as the seconds of silence ticked by.
"Everyone scattered. Ran with whatever was on our backs. The whole place was crumbling, tanks and grenades had ruined it. Plus, all the noise and flames attracted so many walkers the place was nearly overrun before all of us got out," he tried to say this with his normal nonchalance but he was nervous. He desperately hoped that she wouldn't ask a follow up question.
"And then?" she said, raising one eyebrow.
"Eventually we all met back up at Terminus, this train station that was supposed to be a sanctuary," he felt his blood boil just thinking about all the innocent people those cannibals had lured into their trap.
"But I wasn't there was I?" she still knew how to read him like a damn book. Beth must have known he was hiding something.
"Nah, you were already at the hospital," he responded, still evading her real question. He silently begged her not to ask the question again. She asked him already how she ended up at the hospital and Daryl hadn't answered her. He doubted he could blow it off a second time.
But she was merciful, sort of, and asked instead, "How did I get outta that prison, Daryl?"
Her blue eyes were full of fire now. She wasn't going to take his bullshit anymore. He'd seen her like this before, when she'd yelled at him outside their moonshine shack. Only then, she was a full-fledged, uncontrollable wildfire. Now, she was more contained, like she was reining in the fire inside herself. Daryl knew the feeling well, having spent years suppressing the rage he felt. He wouldn't dodge her anymore.
"We got out together," was all he could bring himself to say.
She narrowed her eyes at him skeptically, "Just us… why?"
"Everyone was supposed to get out on the bus. I was busy dealin' with some assholes in a tank and you ran back in to save the kids. When you got out, I was the only one left so we just ran," he said with an overly casual shrug. Daryl didn't think it was a good time to mention that he had been in the process of going in after her when she came running out.
Her eyes remained skeptical, and he forced himself to meet them so it didn't look like he was hiding something. It didn't convince her though, she was still glaring at him.
"All right… And what happened after the prison?"
Should he tell her all the details? Hiding pressed together in the trunk…Her first drink… Her teaching him how to be a good person without even knowing it… Burning down the cabin… Her singing in their little home that last night…
Damn. He did not need to be thinking about all those weeks with her. He'd tried for years to keep those memories stuffed in the back of his head.
Daryl couldn't tell her all that actually happened. It would freak her out and chase her out of Alexandria even faster. He knew she was still planning on running. But he thought that maybe her curiosity would keep her here. Maybe she'd stay longer if he kept her wondering.
God damn evil plan ya got to trap little miss jailbait over there, brother. He heard Merle's voice pop into his head. It's damn near perfect!
He tried to ignore thoughts of his brother's approval. If Merle would have approved, it probably wasn't the best idea. But he did it anyway.
"Lots'a stuff," he said as he stood up. "Beth, ya lost a lotta blood today and neither of us have slept for two days. You should go and get some rest."
He grabbed the door handle, pulled it open and stood to one side. It was an obvious dismissal and Beth's jaw dropped a little.
"That's all I get?" She seemed hurt and slightly angry.
"For now." One eyebrow lifted as he watched her eyes narrow again. "You gotta get some sleep, Doctor's orders. But we can talk later, I promise," Daryl didn't know what made him say this. But her face lightened at this promise, the anger faded and made way for a brief smile.
She stood up, pushed the little wooden chair under the desk, and walked over to the doorway where Daryl was still standing.
"Fine. I'll go to sleep now, but I'll hold you to that promise." She silently padded along the hallway to her room. Beth turned around when her door was open, he was still staring after her and for a moment he thought she was going to bust him for watching her. Instead she called him out on something else, "And next time I won't let you get away with those crap answers, Daryl Dixon."
Now he felt his own jaw drop, but she didn't catch that because Lucky swept into her room and she shut the door with a quiet click.
If he needed any further proof that this was still Beth, he just got it.
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A/N: Ah! This chapter was impossible to write. Wanted to keep them in character (which I do NOT feel like I accomplished) and I wanted them to share without revealing too much… I am not totally pleased with it but it had been WAY too long without an update so I decided to just put it out there.
Hopefully y'all don't hate me :/
Thanks for reading! Please message/favorite/review/follow !