Author's Note: Happy New Year's Eve, guys! I wanted to post this chapter today to thank you all for the support and love throughout this year. I really hope you had an amazing year and that this story had made you laugh at least once through it. I'm so excited for 2018!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything here.
It could be her imagination, but Beth had the feeling both the brothers were currently paying a much closer attention to her than normal — perhaps gauging how well she was doing after her meltdown. She wanted to protest — to order them to back down — but Beth was still quite unsure how she was currently feeling. About everything. It was all a big enigma.
Merle was walking right in front of Beth, so close, indeed, that she could touch him if she so wished. For a crazy moment, Beth considered doing so. She wanted to reach out and touch him, just to confirm he was there. Hug him, just to fell his presence and take comfort in the fact that he still hasn't left her sorry ass alone in those woods. But she wouldn't, of course. Not because he was a Dixon and would probably reject any source of physical contact that was not initiated by himself — although she was always hyper-aware of his preferred personal space — but mostly because some bruises could still be seen in his body. The damage marking his body was still there, just as it did hers.
Beth's hands were healed, for the most part. The bruising on the wrists wouldn't fade completely for a while longer, but she could pretend it wasn't there as long as she focused on anything else. Other than that, she only felt some minor discomforts in specific parts of her torso. Beth was lucky. Jonathan had been a son of a bitch, the scum of the earth, but he never hurt her more than she could handle. He did only enough to make her scream, and then he left.
Merle hadn't been so well treated, Beth could tell. His face had some bruises — around the ears and nose —, which looked bad enough. However, she knew he was hiding the rougher wounds under his shirt. Beth could tell by the way he walked, even though he tried his damn hardest to hide it. It was impossible to hide something like that from her — not just 'cause she had heard his screams back in the building, but also 'cause Beth was so in tune with his movements that even the tiniest wince of pain didn't escape her. Beth made sure to pay attention; she wanted — needed — to know. Just as she did with Daryl. Their wounds were her fault, so it was her duty to remain aware of them at all times, to see if there was any way in which she could help 'em — even if they would most likely reject any form of help on her part.
Beth noticed it all. She saw the winces, the stumbles, the almost imperceptible frowns… it all served to confirm Beth's beliefs that the boys felt a whole lot more than what they let show. So, when Daryl shifted his weight around for the third time in a row, she knew exactly what she had to do.
"Merle, can we stop?" She immediately requested, trying to sound more tired than what she felt. "I'm dead on my feet."
Both boys came to halt at the sound of her voice, turning to face her.
"Right now?" Merle asked, sounding surprised by her request. Beth knew why. Since her imprisonment, she stopped voicing her own wishes to them — knowing she had no right anymore — but this wasn't for her. Daryl needed to take the weight off his bad leg, so Beth would do whatever she had to.
"Yeah, I mean, if it's okay with you. I kind of need to sit down a little."
Daryl looked a little contemplative, as though he was trying to analyze her motives. Merle, on the other hand, looked decisively uncomfortable.
"I guess," He shrugged, looking around. "This is not the ideal place to spend the night but it's also not the worst. Let's make camp; we'll continue to walk in the morning."
"Thanks," She murmured, lowering her head, embarrassed to have to portray the weak kid again even if it was to help Daryl.
"I'm gonna go get something for us to eat," Daryl informed, laying his backpack on the floor and grabbing his crossbow. "Keep an eye on my stuff, will you?"
"No problems," Beth answered straight back, without thought, only to lift her head and see him looking at Merle.
Of course.
Beth could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, as she once again lowered her head. How embarrassing. Of course he didn't mean her, how stupid to think otherwise.
Probably choosing to ignore her sudden burst of self-confidence, Daryl left without another word. His steps could barely be heard as he walked away from their spot in the woods.
XxXxxXxXxXxxXxXXX
"How are you, kid?" Merle asked, breaking the silence with his question.
Beth winced, hating how fragile she felt at the innocent prodding. The look on his face was not one of pity, however. He merely looked concerned and, perhaps, somewhat awkwardly. Beth wondered if Merle was unused to caring for someone else or if it was she, specifically, who made him fell out of place.
"I don't know," She responded, choosing to go with the truth. "I also don't know how I'm supposed to feel in this situation, you know? It's all too new and frightening. I lost my family, my boyfriend… they're all dead, I can face that now. I was only kidding myself — trying to pretend nothing bad could ever happen to them just because I loved them."
At her words, he turned to face her.
"We don't know, Beth," He pointed out, rather kindly. "Daryl can be an asshole sometimes, I know, 'cause he learned that from me. He was pissed, but he doesn't know for certain. They might be alive for all we know, but you can't live your whole life based on that hope."
The words were surprisingly thoughtful, and Beth could feel her eyes starting to water in response. He was looking her right in the eyes, too, so he could probably see the effect his kindness had on her. It was slightly humiliating, but also quite nice.
"Thank you," She said, trying to hold back the tears. "Daryl had every right to be an asshole to me, don't worry. And you're right, I can't live hanging on the hopes that they'll pop out of these woods at any time to resume our previous life. The truth is, we can't, even if they do return someday. My dad… he was trying to protect us — and I can understand that — but everything that was happening seemed so different than what it was. When you guys walked into our lives, I was living in a bubble, where nothing would ever hurt me."
The words began to flow out of her mouth in a way that Beth had never felt before. Perhaps it was the emotional overflow she was experiencing, or maybe it was the way in which Merle looked at her — like she wasn't some annoying kid, but rather a person he cared about. Whatever it was, it sure made her want to bear her soul to him.
"Then there was the barn… it was a huge slap in the face. Suddenly the world had become a much darker place, with sinister beings who wanted nothing more than to kill me. Why should I want to live in such a place? I couldn't come up with a single reason to remain breathing. And I know I sound so silly and pathetic to you for that, but that was how I felt. There was no reason to prolong a sad life seeing as I would die anyway in a not far away future."
"So, I tried to kill myself. It was a stupid thing to do, I can see that now," she continued, clutching her shirt with her fingers. "It seems like such a long time ago now. I feel like I have lived a whole other life since then — most of which I could do without, honestly."
Beth gathered her wits, readying herself to do what she had wanted to do for a long time, but could never find the courage.
"I've trying to apologize," Beth said, holding his gaze while trying to convey how much she meant her words. "Since that stupid day… It was my fault, of course. I did everything wrong that day. When Jonathan shot Daryl… my God, Merle, I'm so sorry. I know how much you treasure Daryl, how much you love him. And I know you cannot forgive me, but please know that I'm sorry. I never wanted for him to get hurt because of me."
"Beth," He began, as soon as she took a breath in between sentences.
"No, wait," She interrupted, mentioning for him to wait for a little. She needed to get it all out. "There's more I need to say. I wanted to apologize for Daryl because I know he's more important to you, but I also want to say that I'm so sorry for you, too. Merle, I… I could… Most days I couldn't hear you — which was bad enough — but somedays I could, and it was so much worse. I cannot express how much it pained me to hear you screaming, knowing that it was all my damn fault."
The tears were rolling down her face, even as she spoke. Beth was grateful to have the opportunity to say those words to him, face to face. During the time she was strapped to a chair in the building, sometimes she thought about the words she would say if she ever got the chance to apologize for her actions. This was more than what she could ever have hoped to get.
"I'm so fucking sorry," Beth couldn't stop, the words just kept on coming. "Sorry that you had to stay there, knowing your brother could be dead. Sorry I put you in that position. Sorry they hurt you so fucking much. Sorry I couldn't do more to help. Sorry I ran after you guys even though I knew you wanted nothing else to do with me. Sorry I never said how grateful I was that you saved me from the farm. Sorry I'm still here, weighing you both down. I'm so… sorry."
A hiccup overcame her, forcing her to stop talking. Beth buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the fat tears on her face. The feeling of guilt was taking control of her body, making her feel like she was a worthless piece of shit. Beth wanted nothing more than to run away and never have to face the brothers ever again — how could she stay there when there was so much red on her ledger?
"Kiddo, you've got to breathe," Merle said. "Breathe, Beth."
She raised her head and realized he was crunched in front of her, way closer than she thought he would be. From that position, she could see his eyes perfectly — the dark iris and the flecks of green spread in some places. Unlike Daryl's, Merle's eyes were big and open.
"I am breathing," She whispered. "I'm not having another panic attack, relax. I'm sorry you got worried."
That seemed like the wrong thing to say because his expression got immediately darker.
"Stop saying sorry, kiddo," He said. "This is ridiculous. Yes, you were careless, but none of this is your goddamn fault, alright? Trust me; I know all about being the jackass who puts everyone around him in danger, and that's not what happened. That… that motherfucker who did this to us… to you, he's the one to blame."
He stopped for a second, before carrying on: "I could hear you screaming, too."
"What?" She breathed, shocked.
"I could hear you, girl," He repeated, his face distorted. "I've been hit in my life, kiddo, this ain't my first ride. With guys like that, it's just easier to give 'em what they want, so I'd scream. I got hurt, yes, but I'm not even close to being at my worst. I could hear you, though, and that was the hardest part."
H lowered his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he spoke.
"I promised to teach you to protect yourself," He whispered, rather tiredly. "I said I wouldn't allow you to get hurt. I knew you weren't ready to leave the cabin, but I allowed myself to be swayed. I should've put my damn foot down... If you want someone to blame for this whole mess, then I'm your guy."
Beth couldn't believe he thought he had any blame for anything that had happened to them. Never once had she imagined Merle to be guilty of something, on the contrary, she was the one who placed them all in a horrible situation. He tried his best, Beth knew that.
"No, don't even think... No!" She ordered, trying to digest his words. "This is my fault, no one else's. You did help me, as much as you could and as much as I would let you. You saved my life in all the ways I could ever need, Merle, and I'm so freaking grateful for it. Forgive me if I did not say it sooner."
She raised her hand to his chin, forcing his head up to meet her's. Her eyes locked against his. She needed him to understand how serious she was; how vital that conversation was to her. But his face — his tortured expression — took her breath away. Never had she seen so much emotion stamped on his face before.
"You don't know anything," He said, sounding somewhat angry. "I failed, Beth. Are you stupid? I fucking failed you! I failed Daryl! You thought we were going to leave you behind in that place with that motherfucker... How fucked up is that?"
As he spoke, Merle began to raise his voice to a full-on shout, flailing his arms as he yelled.
"Daryl almost died; you almost died. Do you know what those... those sons of bitches would say to me, Beth? Do you?" He asked, although he never expected a response before he gave the answer. "They said they were eager to touch you. To taste you. God, I can't even... Fuck! Did they fucking touch you?"
Beth felt the familiar fear and disgust she got whenever Jonathan was mentioned around her. His touch was still etched — burned — onto her face.
"No," She answered. "Jo- He wouldn't allow anyone else in the room I was being kept, and he didn't... Not like that."
She remembered her constant fear, though, that any day would be the day he decided to take advantage of her vulnerability to hurt her like that.
"Beth," Merle said, rousing her from the dark thoughts clouding her mind. The use of her name was different, new. Beth wasn't used to hearing it coming from Merle's lips. "I'm sorry. I should be the one apologizing to you, not the other way around. I'm sorry that you had to live this. I never wanted you to see this ugly side of the world."
It was too much; Beth lost it. She began to cry at the same time as she jumped into his arms. wrapping her own arms around his shoulders and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.
"Please, don't leave me," She begged, desperate to have some — any — reassurance that he wouldn't leave her on her lonesome.
"Dammit, Beth, I won't," He promised, grabbing the back of her legs and positioning her over his lap, straddling him. "I won't."
AN2: So? This chapter was so emotional for me. I can't wait to hear your feedback! xoxo