Author's Note: Hello darlings, welcome back to the apocalypse world we all know and love. This chapter was tough to write, and I believe it will also be so to read, but I hope you appreciate it regardless. I'm excited for the chapters to come.

Huge thanks to all those who have stuck with me for this long in this fic, writing awesome stuff about it and encouraging me to continue to write.

Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of The Walking Dead. Not even a single piece of it is mine.

As it turns out, the horrible house had a lot more stuff in it than anyone could have ever imagined. Most of it was useless to them, though. There were drugs and cash in abundance, stashed in a cabinet that was way too big to be in that shack. There was also cigarettes and alcohol, which Beth saw Merle grabbing but pretended she didn't. Who was she to say something about it anyway? Instead, she searched for things she needed — like new, warmer clothes.

As she roamed through the stacked boxes on the wall, she tried to pretend the dead bodies surrounding her didn't exist. It wasn't an easy job, by any means, but it was crucial. If Beth were to allow herself even a tiny second to muse about the death they caused she would freak out — no doubts about it — so for the moment it was better to be oblivious.

The first box had nothing exciting, only some dirty blankets and a single sock. The second one, though... Beth gasped softly, not wishing to draw attention but not fully able to control her excitement either. It was filled with necessities Beth forgot she needed, like shampoo, conditioner, soap, razors, and the most important one, tampons.

Staying clean with the routine she had was almost impossible. In fact, Beth couldn't remind ever being more disgusting than she was at the time, but the apocalypse wasn't a forgiving time, and she tried to ignore her complaints as much as possible. However, that didn't mean she wasn't craving a bath like crazy or dreading the moment her period would come.

The problem was, Beth no longer had a backpack with her. Actually, she had nothing besides her clothes and knife.

"Do you know where they keep the backpacks?" Beth asked Luna, knowing the girl probably would have no idea but having no other choice.

The girl didn't answer straight away; she just looked at Beth with a vacant stare. When she was about to give up and search for it herself, the girl turned and started to walk towards the dead bodies.

"Wait!" Beth tried to call her back, already getting up and chasing after her.

But she needn't have to worry. Luna stopped at the door leading to the room she had been previously inside, pointing to a dirty backpack not far away from the body of the woman Beth killed. It honestly made her kinda of sick to think that it might have belonged her. Beth had already stolen something far more precious from her than an old, dirty backpack. But Beth forced her feet to carry her forward until she was close enough to reach out and grab it. No sooner had she done it, Beth turned her back and left the room; not wishing to spend another moment in there.

"Look, Merle, I found your soulmate's pack," She joked, looking inside it and taking out the cigars and flasks of booze. "See, there's even an old underwear here." She added, fishing the disgusting item and throwing it in his face carelessly.

However, life was funny sometimes, and to Beth's utter embarrassment, the boxer landed right on Merle's face as he turned to face her. The following silence was cut by Daryl's loud chuckle.

"Did you just throw an old, used underwear on my face, girl?" Merle growled, shoving it out of his face.

Beth should've asked for forgiveness and moved on — it would've been the wise thing to do — but her body betrayed her horribly, and laughter came out of her instead.

It was, perhaps, the first time Beth laughed like that since she had left her house behind with the brothers. She was feeling happy, despite all that was happening around her, which was why she should've known it wouldn't last. No one was allowed to touch happiness in the apocalypse.

XxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXxxXx

It all happened too fast. So fast indeed, that Beth never even saw how it all went down. All she knew was that one moment she was putting an old jacket on and the next a scream was reverberating through the room, freezing her insides faster than any cold weather ever could.

If her life were a movie, Beth would have run towards the sound, braving whatever came her way. If instead, she was at least a strong individual with a decent moral, Beth would've turned to face what was happening to see what she could do. But, in real life, Beth froze. Her mind was screaming at her to do something — anything — but her body didn't respond.

Thankfully, Daryl wasn't like her. He moved the moment the noise — if one could even call it that — was heard.

Beth saw it from the corner of her eyes, still unable to turn around.

The sick, dull sound of a knife being pulled from flesh was what finally snapped her out of her trance. She turned her neck and saw Daryl shocked eyes gazing Luna's body; her neck, more specifically.

Merle busted inside the house like a madman, gun in his hand. He stopped when he saw no immediate danger, but widening his eyes when he noticed his brother frozen stance.

"No!" He proclaimed, as though his will would change the past if only it were strong enough.

Beth knew what happened; she wasn't an idiot. The knowledge flooded her like a tsunami, leaving her without breath and ground.

The little body of Luna crashed to the floor, the blood finally pooling in her clothes.

Daryl moved forward at the same time as his brother, both of them kneeling beside Luna and holding her hand as she finally began to cry desperately.

If it weren't so sad, it would have been beautiful. And if Beth wasn't so numb, she might have felt something. But she was, and she didn't.

The brothers were talking, but Beth wasn't listening. She heard nothing, only the sound of her beating heart echoing in her ears. Her eyes, however, were functioning correctly. Beth saw everything, including the gun Merle laid on the ground next to him — which was what finally made her move.

Beth was aware that Merle knew she was taking his gun, but he made no move to stop her.

"Move," She demanded in a flat voice.

"Beth..." Daryl tried to say something, but she could tell he knew not how to do it. It's not like it mattered anyway, Beth didn't care for what he had to say.

"Move," she repeated, in the same alien tone of voice as before.

Before Daryl could protest, Merle put his hand on his brother's shoulder and shook his head.

"Just leave it," He muttered, getting up and looking at her. "We'll be outside, take your time."

Again, if the situation was different, Beth might have appreciated his compassion. But the numbness had taken over her entire body.

Merle's obsidian eyes were so dark Beth could see her own vacant look staring back at her.

"Don't do anything stupid," Daryl said, probably trying to be nice but it only served to annoy Beth lightly. Don't do anything stupid? Luna was already dead, what could she do? The only thing stupid had been Beth's belief that she could do something right; like saving that kid.

God, go away. She thought tiredly, not having the energy to be angry.

Merle seemed to be in a particularly good day because it was almost like he read her thoughts. He ducked Daryl's head lightly and pushed him towards the door.

"Shut up," He scolded, gripping his shirt.

They left, and Beth was alone with the still crying child.

The walker hadn't missed; her neck was destroyed. The disgusting bite took almost all the flesh and the muscle on the left side, leaving all her insides exposed to the world.

Luna sprang forward and hugged Beth so tightly it hurt. Beth didn't move, allowing the girl to dirty and hurt her. It was the least she could do.

The little child cried like there was no tomorrow; which, in her case, it actually didn't. Beth wished she could cry too, but her eyes remained dry as a desert.

"Am I going to die?" The kid in her arms demanded, silently asking Beth to comfort her.

What was the right thing to do in such situations? Was Beth supposed to lie and pretend nothing happened or tell the truth and ruin the girl's final hours?

The word came out of her mouth before she consciously decided.

"Yes," It was barely anything more than a whisper, but it was enough.

Luna went very still in her arms, frozen by the sentence Beth just announced. It made Beth feel like the killer instead of the reporter.

"I don't wanna become that," She told Beth, releasing her and laying on the floor again.

She looked nothing like a child should ever look. It was unnerving the way her face seemed exhausted — as if she had already given up on life altogether.

Something was trying to take over Beth's automatic state — she felt it, deep inside herself — but it was quickly pushed aside by her rational side. Maybe her brain was aware that she couldn't handle any of that at that moment and that the only thing keeping her sane was the lack of feelings inside her. The void was a blessing, leaving Beth blissfully ignorant.

"You won't," She muttered, showing Merle's gun in her hand. "That's why I'm here."

Strangely that seemed to comfort her. Something shone in her eyes, too fast to discern what it was. And that was the last time Beth saw her eyes, 'cause in the next moment, they were closed.

Beth raised her arm and pointed the gun at Luna's head, ignoring the way her hands trembled. She put her finger on the trigger and gathered strength, knowing that was her duty.

Sombrely synchronized, as only dark situations could be, Beth pulled the trigger at the same exact time as the girl whispered the worst thing she could have ever said.

"Thank you."

AN2: I felt somewhat sad at the end of this chapter. I wrote it piece by piece, musing Luna's death repeatedly over and over again. It won't be easy for Beth, but luckily she's not alone.