Warning: In this chapter Beth has a flashback to her suicide so if that is a sensitive issue for anyone, please skip the beginning. I redid parts of this chapter multiple times and ended up with what I hope is the most likely and most interesting version. Enjoy!
Beth's POV
Beth's ankle throbbed, but she forced herself to keep walking. Her boot was tight around her ankle, which had become swollen. Daryl was supporting her, but Beth was getting tired. The young woman was very conscious of the fact that if anything happened, she would be vulnerable. With her healthy and Daryl around, walkers were not usually much of a problem. However, Daryl couldn't use his crossbow as long as he was supporting her and if a herd appeared, Beth wouldn't be able to outrun them. "Com'on," Daryl encouraged, tightening his arm around her waist. Beth stumbled forward, trying to continue. They had been walking for over an hour and Beth's ankle was only getting worse. Her backpack felt like it weighed a ton and even little obstacles, such as tree roots were difficult for Beth to step over. Clouds had covered the sun, making the forest dim and hard to see through. Suddenly, Beth slipped on the leaves that littered the steep incline they were going down. Daryl caught her, grunting with the effort. He set her back on her one good foot and they kept going. Any second Beth expected a walker to jump out and that would be the end of her.
A few years ago, she had tried to commit suicide. The young woman could remember the decision as if it were yesterday. Beth had stood in the bathroom, Andre's words ringing in her ears. She had thought she had no more reason to live. Her mom and brother were dead and she didn't want to go the same way they did. Beth didn't want to be ripped apart by gnashing teeth; she didn't want to watch as each one of her family members died. She had been so scared of the future, which only promised pain and uncertainty. As the dark thoughts and emotions rolled around in her head, she had picked up a glass shard that was in the sink. Andre had given her a knife, but the mirror shard was more appropriate. That mirror held memories. Her mother had bought that mirror at an auction. Annette would always put sweet little uplifting bible verses on sticky notes and leave them on the mirror for her family to read throughout the day. When the apocalypse happened, her mom had been bitten on the ankle. For several days, they had kept her mom in bed while Hershel had tried his best to cure his beloved wife. Then, one day, Annette had seemed a bit better. Her eyes had more light in them and she wanted to try and take a shower by herself. The whole family thought she was going to be okay, they had thought that one of Hershel's medicines had finally worked.
Beth could clearly picture her daddy assisting her ma on the short walk to the bathroom, her frail arm clinging to Hershel. Her pa had bent down and kissed Annette on the forehead before leaving her to take her shower. Beth heard the shower turn on while she tidied up the room. Then, Beth went downstairs and helped Maggie make breakfast. The sisters had hummed while they cooked. The whole house had not been so alive with happiness since the walkers appeared.
That didn't last long though. As time passed, her mom never came out of the bathroom. Shawn had offered to go up and check on his stepmother. A knock could be heard from upstairs. "You alright Annette," Shawn's voice had asked. Beth had been flipping the bacon when Shawn's scream pierced the air. Both she and Maggie had frozen for a second. At the sound of Hershel's boots on the stairs, they had dropped their cooking utensils and followed after him. A tinkling sound came from upstairs followed by another yell. Beth could still see the horrible image in her head. She had rounded the corner to find her mom crouched over Shawn's dead body. Ripping sounds filled the air as her former mother bit into her stepson's neck. Blood was all over the bathroom and the mirror was cracked. The worst part had been when her mom had looked up. Blood ran down her mouth and her eyes were bloodshot, all the color was gone out of them. That was the beginning of the end.
With that last memory, Beth had looked up into the cracked mirror and saw multiple images of herself reflected back at her. They had been naïve and stupid to think that a few medicines would save her mother. Beth had realized that when Shane opened the barn. They weren't people anymore, once you were bit, there was no returning. Beth didn't ever want to have the same fate, she didn't want her body to try and kill those that she loved. Not seeing any other option, Beth had drawn the sharp mirror shard across her wrist. Blood had leaped out and run over her skin in beautiful crimson trickles. Beth was relieved at first; she had finally done the deed she was so afraid to do. However, she hadn't cut deep enough for instantaneous results. While Beth stood there watching her life flow out, new memories began to come to her. She saw Maggie teaching her how to ride a horse, she saw Hershel teaching her how to drive his old pickup truck. She remembered Jimmy's smile when she had first told him that she felt the same way about him. Beth began to picture how they would react when they found her dead. They were the people she loved the most in this world and she was never going to see them again. The thought was too much, Beth put her right hand over her wrist, trying to stop the flow of blood, but it ran over her fingers and onto the floor. Beth didn't know what to do, she was starting to feel dizzy. Suddenly, the door had slammed open and Beth had looked up to see Maggie standing there in horror.
Immediately, her father had come and stitched her up. He had tucked Beth into bed and she had looked up at the sadness in his eyes. Beth felt ashamed, she had almost made her father suffer losing another child, she had been selfish by thinking that she was the only one that was hurting. That night, after her father had left, Beth had promised that she would never give up hope again. She had prayed to God that as long as he kept her alive, she would keep fighting. That was a promise she had kept ever since.
Beth gained courage from the memory and took another step. Right now she had a job to do and that job was to put one foot in front of the other. Beth had to keep going because being outside put not only her but Daryl in danger. Sweat trickled down Beth's neck and she clenched Daryl's side to help support herself. Daryl looked down with concern and Beth did her best to smile as if nothing was wrong. The redneck didn't look convinced. Beth looked away and kept walking. Every step sent a spiking pain up her leg, Beth wasn't going to hold out much longer. As if God had heard her prayers, they rounded a tree to find a graveyard in front of them. At the end of the cemetery, there was a large two-story white house. Beth almost fell to the ground in relief, they were going to be okay. The end was so close, but Beth couldn't walk another step. "Can we hold up a sec," Beth asked, finally giving in to her body's demands. "You alright," Daryl asked, worry coloring his voice. Beth didn't want to make a big deal out of her ankle, Daryl was concerned enough as it was. "I just need to sit down for a little while," Beth said, trying to downplay how bad she was feeling. Daryl looked off towards the house and Beth was sure he was going to ask her to keep going since they were so close.
Instead, Daryl swung his crossbow strap around his neck and squatted in front her. He put his arms behind him and grunted. "Hop on," he offered. "Are you serious," Beth asked. She wanted nothing more than to be carried the rest of the way but she knew Daryl was tired as well and he was carrying his crossbow, which wasn't any light weight. "Yeah," Daryl replied, "this is a serious piggyback. Now, jump on." Beth hesitantly put her arms around Daryl's shoulders, suddenly feeling very embarrassed at the thought of being carried by the redneck. Thankfully, he couldn't see the blood rising to her cheeks. Her ankle throbbed again, making the decision for Beth. She used her good leg to leap up a bit and onto Daryl's back. He jumped, making Beth sit up a bit higher and then Daryl wrapped his hands around Beth's thighs so that she wouldn't fall off. "You're heavier than you look," Daryl complained. Beth knew he was saying that because he was embarrassed so she didn't reply. Instead, Beth rested her head on Daryl's shoulder and enjoyed the feel of his hair on her face as he carried her. Beth could feel every muscle underneath her, she felt secure in Daryl's hands. Daryl's woodsy scent along with sweat and dirt filled the air. Beth clung a little more than necessary to Daryl's back.
As Daryl made his way through the burial ground, Beth took in her surroundings. Being in a cemetery before the apocalypse would have given her the creeps, but those days were long gone. There was nothing to fear of the dead who were not trying to kill her. Beth looked ahead at the white house, it had columns on the front that gave it a regal look. It reminded Beth of her family's house, except that it looked a lot newer. "Maybe there are people there," she told Daryl. "Yeah," Daryl said in a wary voice, his muscles tensing at the thought, "and if there are, I will handle them." Beth wanted to sigh in exasperation, she knew that you had to be careful these days but you shouldn't just assume that everyone was bad. "There are still good people Daryl," Beth reminded the redneck. "I don't think the good ones survive," he replied. Beth could see why Daryl thought that, especially after what had happened with the governor. However, most of the people in their group were good people. Beth thought of Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, and Rick. They were all good people. Daryl grunted as he hoisted Beth up a bit higher. Daryl was good too, he just couldn't seem to see it.
As Beth was thinking about what to reply, a tombstone caught her attention. At the bottom it said BELOVED FATHER. Beth slid off Daryl's back without thinking about what she was doing. Somehow, it seemed like the words were meant for her daddy. The tombstone was broken off at the top where the name of the man would have been. Beth couldn't tear her eyes away from the engraving. She wished that she could have buried her father, instead he had been left out in the field where the walkers had probably done horrible things to him. There had been no other option than to leave her daddy, but Beth still felt guilty about it. Suddenly, Daryl moved in front of her and put some yellow flowers on the tombstone. Beth was touched by his gesture. When Daryl came back to her side, Beth instinctively took his hand in hers. Daryl's hand froze and he didn't respond for a second. Beth wondered if she had pushed Daryl's personal space a little too far, but then his hand came alive and he wound his fingers in hers. Beth gripped his hand, thankful for the support that seemed to radiate from him. Slowly, Beth bowed her head and said a silent prayer for her father.
Daryl's POV
When Daryl had felt Beth's hand sneak into his, he hadn't known what to do. He had never been much of a holding hands kind of person. A few of the trashy women that Merle had brought home had tried it on him and he had always pushed them away. Holding hands with the floozies had always made him feel like they were trying to own him or stake some claim on him, it disgusted Daryl. Somehow, with Beth though, it was different. Daryl couldn't make himself pull away, so he gave into the feeling and allowed his fingers to become intertwined in hers. Beth's hands were beginning to get calluses from using his crossbow, but they were still smoother than anything he had ever touched. He watched as Beth bent her head. Daryl understood that she was having a personal moment and looked away. The redneck scanned the graveyard, making sure no walkers were around. Not a single shambling body was in sight. Beth's hand squeezed Daryl's and he turned back to the young woman. "He is in a better place now," Beth said simply. Daryl just nodded, he didn't believe in any of that heaven crap, but if it made Beth feel better, he would play along. "Ready," Daryl asked. Beth nodded and Daryl crouched over again so that she could climb on his back. Her hands wrapped lightly around his neck and Beth's blonde hair fell across his neck, sending tingles down his spine. Daryl tried to ignore the sensation and began plodding forward toward the house. He really hoped that no one was there, they had had enough bad luck for one day.
As he made his way up the steps, Beth squirmed to look around his head at the building. Two wooden rocking chairs sat on the porch, other than that it was empty. Daryl let Beth slide off his back and then took his crossbow off, ready for action. First, he rapped on the windows, which elicited no response. Next, he tried the doorknob and it turned freely. Daryl pushed the door wide open to give him a clear view of whatever was inside. His eyes took in the wooden floor and the white staircase that led upward. Pictures of country landscapes hung on the wall and a couple of lamps were set up on a dresser. There wasn't a single walker in sight, but that didn't mean there wasn't one hiding somewhere. Daryl banged on the doorframe, hoping to draw any walkers out. He whistled for good measure, never hurt to be extra careful. The house was dead quiet, but Daryl had learned from experience that those bastards could pop out of anywhere. "Give it a minute," Daryl cautioned Beth as she came up behind him. They stood there in silence, straining to hear if any walker was upstairs or in the next room.
When nothing happened, Daryl began making his way into the house, keeping his crossbow at the ready. He scooped out what appeared to be the living room and the kitchen, which were empty of humans and walkers. Something about the place put Daryl on edge. There wasn't a single plate in the sink. Every item was put neatly in its place. No clothes lay scattered on the floor, no indication that the owner had left in a rush. There were no signs of a human living there, but houses didn't just take care of themselves.
Daryl signaled at Beth to come in and she obediently followed his order. "It's so clean," Beth observed, looking around at the furniture. "Yeah," Daryl replied, "someone's been tending to it. May still be around." All of Daryl's instincts told him to leave. He wasn't real social before the apocalypse and he sure as hell hadn't gotten any better since then. However, Beth couldn't be outside with that hurt ankle of hers, it was too much of a risk. The only thing that could be done was to scope out the place and make sure it was safe.
Daryl headed towards a room on his left. Silky white curtains covered the window but let a slight glow in. Wooden chairs were lined up side by side, packed tight in the small room. At the far end, there was a coffin with a man lying in it. On either side of the coffin, vases held lovely white and purple flowers. A pulpit held a red leather bible. Daryl walked up to the coffin to determine if the body was truly dead or if it was going to turn. Beth's steps made soft echoes as she entered. The man had short blonde hair and wore a business suit. Daryl reached out a hand and touched the man's cheek. It was cold and a powder clung to his fingers. Daryl moved his finger's down the man's face, exposing the makeup that someone had applied. Whoever was still taking care of the house was a mortician. If this was a morgue then there was likely to be something to bandage Beth's ankle with. Daryl left the room and continued his inspection of the house. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and two restrooms, both empty and devoid of human life. As Daryl came down the stairs, he didn't see Beth.
For a second, Daryl's heart stopped, but then he heard her voice calling him. Beth was standing by a door at the end of the hallway. She was peering down a flight of stairs that turned so that she couldn't see what was at the end. Daryl took the lead and walked carefully down the steps so that they wouldn't creak. He came out into a small room that had two dead bodies on metal tables. One's face had only been partially redone with makeup. The other side was decaying and rotting. Daryl turned away from the sight. Don't people have better things to do than try and make a walker look nice? He set his crossbow on the counter and began digging through the drawers in search of athletic tape. The first couple of drawers were empty. One held all sorts of makeup and embalming fluid. Daryl moved upward, checking the higher cabinets. Not only did he find the tape, but he also found some Aspirin. Beth slowly descended the steps and stood in the doorway staring at the walkers. "Let's get that ankle wrapped," Daryl suggested.
Beth didn't come over to him though; instead she made her way to the walkers. Daryl went over to the young girl and bit into the plastic that covered the tape. He glanced down at the monsters she was gazing at. "Looks like someone ran out of dolls to dress up," Daryl commented. Beth's head whipped up and she glared at him. "It's beautiful," she said, obviously offended. Daryl stopped opening the tape. He hadn't meant anything by his statement; he certainly didn't mean to upset the young woman. Daryl looked down at the walkers and couldn't understand what Beth saw in them. After everything that had happened, how could she still look at those things and not be repulsed? "Whoever did this cared," Beth continued, "they wanted these people to get a funeral." That was Beth, always seeing the best in everything. Daryl hung his head, a bit ashamed of his earlier comment. "They remembered that these things were people before all of this," Beth said, "They didn't let it change them in the end." Daryl shifted, not sure how to respond to Beth's passionate speech. Daryl didn't like to think of the walkers as people, it made it harder to do necessary things, like kill them. However, Daryl also knew that you had to have a certain strength to see those monsters kill your family and still see them as people. "Don't you think that's beautiful," asked Beth. Daryl raised his eyes to find Beth looking straight at him. Her face was full of emotion and her eyes were pleading with him to understand. Her blond hair was spilling out of her ponytail and framing her face. Daryl was seeing something beautiful, but the dead walkers were not it.
A big thank you to all my readers for their support and encouraging comments! I hope to get one chapter out every week that is my goal anyway. I really love Daryl and Beth's relationship, they are such amazing characters and I hope that I do them justice.