Helplessness Blues

Chapter One

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

Light streamed through the windows. The Venetian blinds casting strips of sunlight across Beth Greene's slim figure, still wrapped up in her sheets. She had always thought that 'Venetian' was a bit grand of a name for simple slats of plastic connected with string. Simple slats of plastic and string that weren't even doing their job of keeping the sun from her face. Her window treatments weren't entirely to blame for her early rise though. Too many breakfast and graveyard shifts at Marietta's Diner had done a real number on her body's circadian rhythm.

You're lucky to have a job as it is. Their small Georgia town hadn't been immune to the woes of the American economy. And as a 19 year old girl with no formal education or training past high school, she would take what she could get. For now anyways. Even if it meant being on her feet for ten hours at a time and coming home every day smelling like burnt coffee and hamburger grease.

Her friends didn't understand why she stayed. She didn't even know if Maggie understood, not really. Maggie was a different animal these days. Well educated and worldly. They were no less close, but the differences between them felt more tangible. The gap becoming harder and harder to bridge. Beth could feel the tension in her own neck at the end of each phone call. Feel the strain of her smile, just a tad forced, during visits. Found it more difficult to quash her jealousies, both petty and justified.

Whenever Maggie was around, they tried to mask the seriousness of the situation. Bills were filed away out of sight. Hershel shaved and wore his best, cleanest clothes. "It's a special occasion" everyone would croon. And then Maggie would go back off to school, taking whatever was 'special' with her. Beth left at home alone to clean up.

She hated how bitter she felt at times.

"We've all got jobs to do." Like a mantra, she'd run the phrase through her mind over and over. Each time her alarm went off at 3:45 in the morning to prep for a breakfast shift at the diner. Each time she'd work a double because unbeknownst to them, Otis and Patricia were largely getting paid solely on Beth's tips. Each time Hershel came home after last call, stumbling up the steps drunk and apologizing as Beth helped him to the couch.

"Your mama would be so ashamed of me right now. I'm so sorry Bethy"

"I know Daddy. It's okay, I'm here."

He was never mean. He was never cold or abusive. He was only sad. Sad and sick from drink. And most importantly, he was her father. So Beth couldn't leave. She could never leave him. "We've all got jobs to do." And being here. For her father. For the farm. That was her job.

For now anyways.

It had been just over a year since her mother passed. Just the right amount of time for the oncologists and hospitals and care specialists to get their financing and billing statements in order. Just enough time for the bills to be stamped and sorted and sign, sealed, delivered right to Beth's feet. But not enough time for Hershel to get over the loss. Not enough time for him to put that damn bottle down. Though, she kept foolishly, naively, all-encompassingly hoping that it would come any day.

Beth closed her eyes, did her best to clear her mind, but sleep wouldn't come. She abandoned the idea and stretched languidly, hearing the satisfying click and pop of her joints and spine. Besides the sound of her waking, the house was quiet. Sliding from the bed, she padded softly across the room to the window. Despite the farming hour, theirs was distressingly quiet. No distant hum of a tractor. No squawking of animals, happy to be freed of their pens for another day.

Glancing across the field, to the ranch house that Otis and Patricia shared, she noticed their truck and animal trailer gone. It seemed every week now they had to sell another piece of livestock just to keep the place up and running.

A low snore rumbled from across the hallway, the reason for the farm's stillness. Her father hadn't been at his best when he returned home the night before. But he hadn't been at his worst either. He'd made it up to his room all on his own. Beth considered that a victory these days (when she was feeling particularly cynical). But the sheepish and awkward hunch of his shoulders, bottle poorly hidden behind his back from her view, was a sure sign that the night's 'celebrating' wouldn't end until sleep claimed him against his will.

Now, he'd likely sleep well into the afternoon.

Beth sighed to herself as she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, not making much effort to be quiet. It would be easier to wake the dead than her father right now. A part of her was relieved that Patricia and Otis were away for the day. They did more than their fair share around the farm, Beth wouldn't make it without them. But the look in their eyes when her father had days like this was almost too much for her to bear. Whether they blamed her for not being able to get through to him, not forcing some kind of solution, or pitied her because they knew she couldn't – she didn't know which was worse.

Humming a few bars of something she couldn't quite place, she stood on tiptoes for the aluminum tin of Folgers and put a fresh filter in the coffee pot. Everything always felt and looked better after a cup of coffee. She had the majority of the day free ahead of her and wondered what she would do with her time. With Otis and Patricia gone for the day, she could lay out in the sun and read even the trashiest romance novel without any judgment. Or maybe she'd go to the library and take out one of the classics from Maggie's reading list. Even if college wasn't in the cards for her right now, she could still read like it was.

Her musings were interrupted by a sudden violent pounding on the front door. She jumped, wondering if maybe she made plans with Jimmy for the morning and forgotten him. It wouldn't be the first time. Making her way through the hallway though, she could make out her surprise guest's voices. They were distinctly aggressive. Distinctly not the kind of company she would expect to have.

Pausing on her side of the door, she considered ignoring them. Wondered if she could latch the extra deadbolt (which had always seemed so unnecessary before) without the sound alerting them to her presence. She shook her head, suddenly annoyed at herself for always being such a baby. Steeled herself and opened the door.

Beth found herself glad that the step up to the doorway gave her a bit of height, as her porch seemed to currently be home to two of the surliest and most contentious rednecks she'd had the pleasure to see. She couldn't stop her mother's voice from drifting through her mind. The gentle way she'd chide her whenever Beth went out with friends. Watch out for the riffraff, darlin'.

She shook the thought from her head and cleared her throat in a way that she hoped sounded more cavalier than she currently felt. "Can I help you?"

The decidedly uglier of the two smiled at her in a way that was far from friendly. Taking a step towards her, she could smell the alcohol dissipating through his sweat glands. Her body tensed, her grip on the doorway tightened. A pathetic attempt to shield the entrance to her home. "Sign down the road says Greene. This Hershel Greene's farm?"

If it had been anyone else at her door, the question would have set her at ease. They got visitors looking to buy and sell feed or equipment all the time. But the look of these two, didn't strike up images of any legitimate business.

Beth clenched and unclenched her jaw before nodding. "He's not home though." Instantly she worried that she had said the wrong thing. Wanting to protect her father was one thing. Accidentally leading these... men to think she was home alone was another. She scrambled for a way to cover herself when the older one started laughing.

"Bullshit that old git is anywhere but his own bed, sleepin' it off. Just run on up lil' girl and get your Pa'. We've got grown up business to discuss."

Her grip on the doorframe tightened still, her knuckles white with annoyance. Annoyed at his condescension, the insinuation that she was a child, his stench, the very fact that these men would come here and try and tarnish her precious sunny morning. Temper winning over judgement, she stepped towards them, filling the doorway more completely. "I already told you, he's unavailable. If you'd like to leave a message, I'd be happy to deliver it."

The man's smile faded at her tone. Taking a threatening step towards her, he regarded her icily. "If you're his secretary, I'm assuming you're his fucking financial advisor too. Now, you're daddy owes my brother and me here $300. And we're not leaving until we get it."

Beth felt her face flush with anger. At these men, at her father, at her squandered morning. She swallowed thickly and prayed her voice didn't shake when she spoke. "You should know that drunk men aren't good on credit. You're just going to have to cut your losses. And leave."

To her surprise, the man laughed. "I took you as a lil' churchmouse, girl. You got a bit more bite to you than that though. Look doll, it ain't personal. Just business." He reached a hand forward towards her. Beth flinched at his touch at the same moment that his brother moved on a start.

"Merle, quit it. Let's just go. It ain't worth it."

Beth noticed the obviously younger of the two for the first time. It hadn't been difficult for him to fade into the shadow of his brother's abrasive figure. To his insignificant credit, he looked markedly uncomfortable by the whole situation.

"Now baby brother, I don't know what goldmine you're sittin' on that $300 seems meaningless but I better get a cut. Now we won't be any trouble, just gonna collect on our debts!" With one fluid motion he pushed Beth out of the way and crossed the threshold inside.

For a surreal moment she was left alone on the porch with the younger brother. Her eyes wide with disbelief and fear. He made no move to enter the house after his brother, seeming content instead to examine a scuff on his boot and peer up at her sheepishly through his hair. As though waiting for her to enter first. For some reason this caused her temper to spike. "What? You're trying to be a gentleman now?"

Turning on her heel, she hurried inside after the elder, just as he was starting to shout Hershel's name up the stairs. Her face burning with anger and violation, she shushed him pleadingly. Waking her father now wouldn't do any good. She didn't have the heart to have to deal with his guilt and sad apologies. Not after this morning. In the end, the money would be coming out of her savings anyways.

"I'll get you the money. Just quit it, please." She left the brothers in the hallway and entered the kitchen. Had half a mind to grab the pistol her father kept in a drawer under the telephone. Imagined herself waving it around, pointing it at them. Knew she'd never have it in her to actually shoot. More importantly, knew that they knew she'd never have it in her to actually shoot.

She cringed inwardly at the sound of them following her. "Just makin' sure you weren't doing anything fishy, doll. No need to get anybody or anything else involved here besides us and our money."

Beth gritted her teeth and said nothing. She was going to have to dip into her rainy day fund for this. The tips and birthday money and found dollar bills that she squirreled away in an old coffee can kept hidden in the back of the highest kitchen cabinet. A place that Hershel would never think to look when he was drunk. She didn't like the thought of these men knowing where she kept her rainy day fund. It annoyed her to think that she'd have to find a new spot.

Even more humiliating, she needed to stand on a chair to reach it. She dragged over a kitchen stool and gingerly laid a hand on the counter for support as she reached deep into the back of the top shelf. The brother she now knew as Merle just laughed, but the younger moved as though to help her, reaching her just as she turned to climb back down. She fixed him with a glare and he retreated. Back to his brother's shadow.

She removed the the lid of the coffee can with a satisfying pop. That pop used to be one of her favorite sounds. Proof that she was saving money. Reminded her of the promise and potential of the future. Of doing things, going places. Right now it sounded hollow and dull. She grabbed fistfuls of bills and begin smoothing them out, counting them. She had an astounding number of singles and fives. And even though giving up the fifties and twenties hidden at the bottom of the can would get rid of the riffraff more quickly, the stubborn side of her wanted them to have the singles and fives. Her mother's words floating through her mind again. Oh my Beth. When you're good, you're very good. But when you're bad, you're awful.

She handed Merle $150 worth of small bills and he looked at her curiously as she begin counting out another pile. "You a stripper, girl? Hope they'd be giving a pretty young thing like you more than singles."

A treacherous blush crept to her cheeks, but she didn't look up from her counting. Mumbled under her breath, "I'm a waitress."

"At Marietta's."

She and Merle both looked up at the younger brother, as though startled that he had spoken. Beth was surprised that he had noticed her. Merle looked back to his cash, recounting it for the second time – but she kept her gaze on the younger for another beat. Just long enough for a flash of red to rise in his throat. Her voice was soft. "Yeah, at Marietta's."

Maybe it was because she was tired of counting. Or maybe she just wanted them to leave. Or maybe it was because he had been slightly more agreeable than Merle, but she let the younger brother have a few crisp twenty dollar bills in his wad of cash. She reached to hand it to him and as their fingers brushed for a split second, he jerked his back. As though she had been trying to hand him a rattlesnake and not a stack of her own hard-earned money. Money that he didn't deserve in the first place.

Suddenly, he seemed a hell of a lot less agreeable to her.

He didn't bother to count the money like Merle had, instead shoved it quickly away in his pocket. Looked more like he had been given a parking ticket than a payment. Beth folded her arms across her chest and jutted her chin forward in a gesture that she hoped looked defiant. Even if at the moment, she felt anything but. It suddenly occurred to her that she was still in her pajamas. Matching mayfair cotton yellow separates. Covered in a print of lemons. It made her feel even more humiliated.

Merle grinned at her toothily, went so far as to give her a mock bow. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. And please, give your Pa' my best." He had the audacity to whistle as he turned to see himself out.

The younger lingered a moment longer, facing but not quite looking at her. Beth maintained her stance but raised her eyebrows, as if to ask if he needed something else. He looked as though he was about to speak but instead just furrowed his brow. Scowled as he followed his brother out.

Beth stayed planted in her spot until she heard the obnoxiously loud sound of their engines start up. How had she not heard them pull in? She had been so lost in her own thoughts, the promises of coffee and a lazy morning ahead of her. Making her way back to the front door, she clicked the lock shut. For good measure, turned the extra deadbolt. It creaked from previous disuse.

She let out a deep breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

Didn't feel much like laying out in the sun anymore.

Authors Note: I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who responded so well to the prologue! I'm going to be super busy the next couple of days so I wanted to try and get another update in tonight. I hope my characterization of Beth read true. This back half has been so exciting as a Beth fan because we've really gotten to see a side of her that is so surprisingly spunky. I think that Beth is very sweet but also very stubborn and I tried to find a balance between the two in the way that I wrote her this chapter. I don't that her standing up to Merle (or obviously Daryl) is too off the mark, but I was cognizant to not making her too badass. Even if there is a new sheriff in town. Next chapter should be up hopefully on Thursday and will be from Daryl's POV, see how he feels about him and Merle shaking down a teenage girl. Again, thank you so much everyone for the support! It's been so nice to get back into fiction writing today. Last time I did anything with fanfiction, I believe I was still waiting for Goblet of Fire to come out. Yikes! And again, you can always find me on tumblr at bethgreenepeace.