Author's note: How sick are you guys of hearing how grateful I am for all the notes and support? Seriously. Amazing. If you have any questions or comments or whatever, you can always PM me or leave them in your reviews. I'll do my best to get back to you!
Beth wakes up wanting to escape - wanting to close her eyes again; to go forward to some impossible "better" or backwards to her old "before." But the trees tower high above her, and the sky is blue, and everything could be beautiful if it was just a little bit different; if she was just a little bit different - but backwards isn't an option, only forwards. One foot in front of the other - hell, one breath after the other, some days.
Daryl isn't there, but his bag is. Beth doesn't know when or if he slept, but can picture him so easily she wonders if muscle memory includes sight. She imagines him moving through the forest, looking down the nose of his bow - knows that's not right, the nose, but can't find the word for it. Wants to ask him. Some old, familiar part of her seeps back in - hoping for knowledge, for a chance to feel like the honor student she used to be, front of the class scribbling notes furiously.
But more of Beth knows she needs to leave. That this is her chance. She might be easily discovered - God knows she was no expert at covering her tracks - but if she had enough of a head start, maybe. And things could go back to the way they were before; no questions, no concern, no looks of pity. Beth could just disappear. She had done it once before.
Gathering her belongings, she didn't think - simply started walking; whichever way she was facing could be north today. What did it matter? She had enough water to last for a while. Beth couldn't stop remembering herself younger, smaller somehow: I'm not going to leave you!
Sorry, Daryl.
She thought of her sister and Glenn. Thought of Rick, Michonne, and Carl. Let Daryl find them again. He needed someone, she knew, to keep his heart from growing hard and gnarled. Before that would've been her job. There are still good people. Maybe she needed someone to remind her, but you couldn't count on anyone anymore. Not for anythin'.
Beth lost herself in walking. The air was getting warmer and she stopped to tie her gray hoodie around her waist. The light warmed her arms, her face - it had been a long winter and the heat was welcome. She watched the sun move in the sky slowly; its agonizing crawl worse than a ticking clock. It made her itch with restlessness, for change. But nothing was going to change.
She heard the walker before she saw it. The same lurching steps and sad, hungry moans. Beth pressed her back tightly against the tree and waited for it to pass. Hoped it hadn't seen her. She drew her knife and waited - she was good at waiting, at staying still - at making herself so quiet and tiny she almost disappeared.
Morning faded into afternoon. Beth had only stopped to forage for food and then continued going. She could feel herself pushing her chin out in the way her Daddy used to call "mule-stubborn." She didn't know where she was going, or where she'd end up - but she knew she'd be alone. And that was enough. She didn't have to talk about it or explain. She would never have to hear Daryl ask her what happened to her again.
Not wanting to start a fire when the sun began to set, she used the last scraps of remaining light to scuttle up a tree. When Beth was finally settled she noticed she had scratched her wrist right next to the silvery scar from so long ago. Maybe it would've been better, she thought - but what once felt like strength and choice, now would only feel like giving up to her.
"Beth?" she heard Daryl's voice cut through the still night. "Damn it, Beth!"
She quietly drew her legs up onto the branch. He was a few feet behind her - she had to estimate because she didn't trust herself to turn around and look for him. The world always seemed to get a little dizzy when he spoke - something that had not went away with all this time. Beth could hear the desperation in his voice and tried to shut it out.
"C'mon, Beth. You ain't gotta do this. You can't do this to me. Not again, y'hear me?" Daryl said, more to himself than her. "You can't just be gone again. It ain't right, Beth. Not after all this time!"
Beth felt her eyes water. Slowly, for the first time in a long time, the tears spilled down her cheeks. Big, fat crocodile tears. Because more than anything she wanted to go to him. To go with him. To find her sister and everyone else. She wanted to feel safe again. But what was the point? It all just got taken away from you eventually. How much more could she survive? How much more could a person take?
"Beth!" Daryl's voice called from directly under her tree.
Unable to help her surprise at his closeness she made a small, startled sound and gripped the tree for purchase. Suddenly Daryl's head whipped up to look into the branches. She couldn't make out all the features of his face, but saw his shoulders slump in relief, then bunch up with frustration again.
"This how it is, girl?" Daryl asked. "You gon' take off every time I go get us dinner?"
Beth said nothing, wiped at her cheeks, praying he couldn't see that she had been crying. She sniffled a little and shifted around; her movement caused the leaves to whisper like they knew all her secrets. She shrugged her shoulders - a movement she was sure Daryl couldn't make out from his vantage point.
"You comin' down or am I comin' up?"