This Chapter takes place in Season 5 - episode 5 'Self Help". I kept reading and editing, rereading this chapter over and over again. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but here you go.
Ps. Now that the prison-era is over, I'm gonna have to take a week off and outline how I want the rest to go.
There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved
Never I'd had life enough
My heart is screaming out
And in a few days I would be there, love
Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was
Just as it was, baby
Before the otherness came
And I knew its name
The love, the dark, the light, the flame
The eyes at the heights of my baby
Let's hope at the fight of my baby
The lights were as bright as my baby
But your love was unmoved
As It Was by Hozier
Chapter 39 - The Copycat Crew
Seated in the passenger seat of the rumbling RV, you tightly grip the worn edges of the map as the vehicle jolts along the dusty road. The word "Terminus" is etched across it in faded ink, acting as a guiding light towards your ultimate destination.
Leaving behind your small shelter in Woodbury was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made. Packed meticulously in the back of the RV were the remaining provisions: potatoes, cans of nonperishable food, and a few jugs of water. Though the fear of missing each other gnaws at your thoughts, you realize that waiting idly is no longer an option.
After a few days of much-needed rest, Merle, true to his word, is finally up and about. With him as your tracker, you embark on the search for Daryl. It doesn't take long for Merle to stumble upon your first lead—an intersection where one path leads back to Woodbury, while another presents a map hanging from a tree, boldly proclaiming "Terminus - Those who arrive, survive." The same map now clenched in your hand. Merle believes Terminus could be a plausible destination for Daryl, and you find yourself nodding in agreement, definitely worth exploring.
"Take a left turn here," you instruct Jamie, stealing a glance at him from the passenger seat as he deftly maneuvers the vehicle. In the back of the RV, Merle rests on the pull-out bed, his snores providing the only disruption to the stillness. His face appears peaceful, and his mouth, slightly ajar, softening his gruff demeanor in slumber. The glimmering light filtering through the curtains accentuates the sheen of his signature prosthetic arm.
With a sigh, your gaze drifts towards the window, absentmindedly observing the dense forest whizzing by—a blur of vibrant greens and earthy browns—as the hours slip away. Nature has reclaimed the land with a resilience rivaling that of the undead, and sporadically, a few walkers stumble aimlessly, their decaying flesh clinging stubbornly to their bones.
Suddenly, a gentle breeze rustles through the leaves, carrying with it a putrid stench that seeps through the cracked glass. The unmistakable odor of rotting flesh assaults your senses, causing you to recoil instinctively, hastily covering your nose. "What in the hell is that smell?" Jamie exclaims, slowing the vehicle and raising a hand to his own nose in response.
"I don't know, but turn right here," you manage to say, your voice muffled by the hand covering your nose, your eyes darting between the map and the road ahead. The rotten odor triggers a flood of memories, reminding you of the times when you used to cover your face, back when it was just you, Charles, and Jamie, navigating the treacherous path towards DC, long before you found Rick and the prison.
With caution, Jamie steers the car, executing a careful right turn. Just then, a large, red object catches your eyes, causing your body to tense involuntarily. Your hand instinctively reaches for the rifle resting between your legs. Jamie's shoulders hunch, mirroring your own unease, as the RV inches forward, eventually coming to a complete stop.
The soldier beside you reaches for his AK-47 as well, his movements deliberate and alert. Directly ahead, an abandoned fire truck looms, while a group of figures with their backs turned appear to be investigating the foul smell coming from a massive herd of walkers somehow contained behind a fence, their growls buzzing in the air like a pack of disturbed bees.
But that's not what worries you—the attention of the small group swiftly shifts towards your vehicle, as if alerted by the rumble of the RV.
"I think... no, that's definitely the woman who was with the Governor... the one with the dark hair... what the fuck, is that... is that Glenn?!" Jamie exclaims, his excitement palpable as his demeanor abruptly shifts. You narrow your eyes, scanning the faces of the group ahead, and quickly recognize Glenn and Maggie among them, accompanied by four strangers. Hope surges through you, and you can't help but wonder if Daryl might be nearby as well.
Driven by his eagerness, Jamie swiftly rises from his seat, clumsily maneuvering his way out of the cramped driver's area. Concerned about the potential risks, you grasp Jamie's arm tightly, giving him a stern look. "Let's proceed with caution and take it slow. For all we know, we could be walking into a threat," you warn, your eyes conveying the seriousness of the situation.
"Yeah, yeah, I got you," he responds, acknowledging your concern, before leaping out of the vehicle. "GLENN! MAGGIE!" he shouts, waving his arms vigorously to catch their attention. Glenn is the first to respond, a wide grin spreading across his face as he jogs toward Jamie, a reminder of the friendship Jamie had forged with the younger members of their group.
You let out a sigh following, realizing that caution has taken a backseat. You slap Merle's boot-clad feet as you walk past him, silently waking him up. Who knows, maybe you'll need the backup.
Maggie lets out a laugh as she catches sight of you, and you can't help but match her infectious spirit as you pull her into a warm hug. After weeks of uncertainty, not knowing if any of them had survived, there is a profound sense of relief in seeing at least these two familiar faces. "Boy, am I glad to see you," she exclaims with genuine emotion as you both separate from the embrace.
"Hey!" you exclaim with a laugh as Glenn joins in, enveloping you in another warm hug. In that moment, Jamie completes the circle, pulling Maggie into the embrace and transforming it into a group hug, his long arm wrapping around all of you. Laughter fills the air as you playfully struggle to break free from the tight hold.
"Okay, okay, we're all happy to see each other!" you chime in, pushing yourself out of the huddle, though a smile remains etched on your face.
"We were talking about you the night before. Daryl told us about Charles—" Maggie begins, but you immediately cut her off, your heart skipping a beat at the mention of Daryl's name.
"Daryl? He's alive? Do you know where he is?" you ask, your voice rising as a rush of emotions overtakes you. You grip her hand desperately, aching for any information about him.
"Yes, he's at the church about 15 miles from here. Rick and Daryl decided to stay behind and search for you, after everything you did for us and Charles—I'm sorry about Charles. Daryl mentioned that he found him," Maggie says softly, her voice tinged with both sorrow and empathy. The pain and despair in her eyes mirror her own experiences of loss.
You burst into laughter, your eyes welling up with unexpected tears. Overwhelmed by emotions, you can't find the proper words to express, as the tears stream down your face. The news that Daryl is alive echoes in your ears, and you can't help but imagine what he must have gone through when he found Charles. The guilt of abandoning your best friend, allowing him to turn into a walker had haunted you. However, the knowledge that Daryl found him brings some solace, knowing he would have granted Charles a peaceful rest.
You laugh again as you wipe your cheeks. All you know is that Daryl is nearby. After countless sleepless nights and endless worry, he is within reach. It feels like an incredible stroke of luck. If you had set out on this journey weeks or even days earlier, as you had originally intended, you could have been wandering aimlessly, oblivious to their whereabouts. But now, by some stroke of random fortune, you have not just found where Daryl might be, but also two of your people.
You open your mouth to probe about the location of the church when a voice interrupts, its distinctive Texas accent cutting through the air. "Good afternoon," the man says, drawing your attention. He sports vibrant ginger hair and an impressive matching mustache, dressed in military cargo pants and combat boots, topped off with a standard military tank top. "My name is Sergeant Abraham Ford. These folks with me are Rosita Espinosa and Dr. Eugene Porter," he says, smirking as he addresses you.
"Oh, and I'm Tara," the dark-haired girl who was once with the Governor chimes in, raising her hand, only to deflate under your cold gaze. You stare her down, raising your eyebrows silently, conveying your thoughts through your gaze—the message clear.
"Well, color me impressed, you must be the famous Dr. Alice Hart, we've heard so much about," the soldier, Abraham, continues, redirecting your attention back to him.
"It's Dixon. Dr. Alice H. Dixon now," you correct him, curious as to why he seems particularly interested in you.
"Dr. Alice H. Dixon," the other man in the group, Dr. Eugene Porter, steps forward, drawing your gaze as you scan him from his cargo shorts to his distinctive mullet. "What I'm fixin' to articulate holds tremendous weight and is spoken with the utmost regard, emanating from a man of scientific expertise like myself to a woman of scientific aptitude such as yourself," he begins, pausing for effect. "...you are seriously hot."
There is a loud puff of air as Jamie tries to suppress his laughter, his hand covering his mouth, while Maggie lets out a giggle, and Glenn simply smiles warmly at you.
"Thank you," you respond, offering a polite smile in return, meeting Eugene's awkwardly intense gaze. "But I am married."
"Understood," Eugene acknowledges with a nod, accepting your response without missing a beat.
"Now that we've got that covered," Abraham says, exchanging a meaningful glance with his companion. The girl, dressed in shorts that are too short for the zombie world and a tank top that exposes her midriff, lightly smacks Eugene's arm, scolding him with her eyes. "We've been informed by Glenn and the rest of your squad that you are also on a mission to find a solution to this goddamn porta potty full of shit we've all been drowning in," he continues, stepping closer with an even wider smirk. "Well, Doctor, I got some damn good news for ya," he declares assertively. "Dr. Eugene Porter, right here, happens to be a scientist, and believe it or not, he knows the cure."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Abraham's bold statement. "Oh, is that so?" you ask, the weight of his words hanging in the air, causing everyone's gaze to fixate on you. You exchange a skeptical look with Jamie, silently questioning the validity of Abraham's claims.
"Affirmative, Doctor. I know the cure," Eugene maintains, his gaze steady and serious as he meets your eyes.
You study his face, taking in his round features and beady eyes as they stare back at you. You've always had a knack for detecting lies, a skill you inherited from your father, but his expression is difficult to read. Yet, a mental itch nags at you, as the word "cure" coming from a soldier was one thing, but hearing it from a doctor throws you off entirely.
"You know the cure?" you ask, hoping that he will correct himself, as any man of science with a basic background in biology would.
"Correct, Doctor. I am well aware of the procedure to acquire said cure," Eugene reaffirms confidently, nodding his head with conviction.
You fix your gaze on him, your brows furrowed, hoping to catch any flicker of doubt or hesitation, fully aware that this claim is complete nonsense. The scarcity of resources alone makes it highly improbable, but more importantly, this virus is unlike anything scientifically documented before. Even before the collapse of the CDC and NIH, when the brightest minds were working together, there were no substantial clinical reports to rely on.
"I know it sounds too good to be true, but let me tell you something, Dr. Eugene right here is the real deal," the ginger soldier insists, giving you a nod of affirmation. You let out a sigh, about to respond, when the RV door suddenly bursts open, and Merle steps out, rubbing his eyes, his face bearing the imprint of pillow lines. He pauses by the door, observing everyone in the group. There is a momentary exchange of looks between him and Glenn, followed by a nod of acknowledgment and acceptance, a sign of how far they have come from their initial dislike and conflicts, mostly on Glenn's side.
Merle directs his gaze at you and the doctor standing before you, a hint of curiosity shining in his eyes. "Who's the wet noodle with the mullet?" he asks, addressing the question to you.
"A doctor who claims to know the cure, apparently," Jamie responds on your behalf, his voice ting with skepticism.
"Oh, is that so?" Merle chuckles, stepping closer and sizing up the two men, his focus mostly on the ginger soldier. "And whut might this cure be, huh? You got some fancy voodoo trick or snake oil remedy? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, I ain't holdin' my breath for no miracle cure. But hey, I'm all ears, so why don't ya go ahead and enlighten us all?"
"It's classified," Eugene replies, his tone devoid of emotion.
"Waaal, ain't that jus' convenient," Merle retorts, sarcasm dripping from his words.
"Doctor Alice here actually has SCI clearance, so she is privy to it," Jamie interjects, aware of your credentials.
"Until I can ascertain the existence of such clearance, I'm regrettably unable to disclose said information," Eugene states, quick on his feet as he exchanged glances between Jamie and Merle.
"In that case, good luck on your journey," you say, nodding at the strangers before turning to Glenn to question the location of the church where your husband is being held.
"Doctor Dixon," Abraham follows, maneuvering to catch your attention again, "in case you haven't figured it out yet, we're all strapped onto this goddamn roller coaster, and there ain't no getting off. So my suggestion is we stick together like wet on water and ride this Kumbaya all the way to the capital."
"I'm sorry, Sergeant Ford, but my mission right now is to find my husband, who is in the city with the rest of my group," you tell him, looking at his assertive stance. "After, I'll worry about DC." You are not moving a foot from this city until you find Daryl.
"We have a man with a cure…" he says to you, a mixture of confusion and anger displaying on his face. "You, of all people, ought to understand the importance of this mission," he raises his voice, invading your personal space.
In that moment, the distinct sound of a gun being cocked fills the air. Jamie, who has been your guard long before the world fell apart, changes his jovial expression to something serious and threatening, clearly disliking the way the man approached you. The tension in the air shifts, escalating the encounter from a mere meeting of strangers to something far more intense. You maintain your composure, locking eyes with Sergeant Abraham.
Merle, with his hand on his holstered gun, steps forward. "Hey now, gingerbread, Ah'd watch how y'all approach the lady here, if I were you, 'cause it ain't gonna end well," he says, a sly smile on his face as he tries to position himself between you and Abraham.
"Or maybe you should watch yourself, Captain Hook. No need to go tossin' around threats, but if you're lookin' for trouble, well, I can certainly oblige." Abraham says, his eyes shifting to Older Dixon, tension running high. You place your hand on Merle's chest, gently pushing him back, knowing he is itching for action, and the last thing you need is to escalate the situation further.
"Again, good luck with your journey," you tell Abraham, bringing his attention back to you, refusing to back down in the face of his confrontational stance. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you look up at his towering figure. "But I won't set a foot out of this city without my husband." No one, not even God, will stand in your way of finding Daryl, let alone a soldier and his copycat crew.
A tense moment hangs in the air as you wait for the next move. But when nothing happens, you take a step back and give a nod to Jamie to lower his weapon. However, Abraham doesn't back down. "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," he says stubbornly, taking another step forward as if to challenge you. "So, since this here special mission calls for it, we're gonna have to relieve you of your vehicle, right here, right now," he confronts.
"Ha, ain't that just a cotton-pickin' hoot?" Merle laughs, his tone indicating he is far from entertained. "I didn't know gingers could be funny. Guess you learn somethin' new every day, huh?"
You let out a sigh, recognizing that Abraham is the typical testosterone-fueled, trigger-happy soldier who likely enjoys a fight. The last thing you want is for him to engage in a confrontation with Merle, who would undoubtedly give as good as he gets, even with his unhealed wound.
"Sergeant Abraham Ford," you call, pulling on Merle's arm to keep him away from the ginger soldier, "I would like you to meet Sergeant James Carter," you say, nodding your head toward the largest man in your group. Jamie wasn't just large and muscular, but also younger and undoubtedly stronger than both men. Jamie seldom had to fight because his sheer size alone intimidated most men, and he often avoided conflict until it was absolutely necessary.
"AKA, Jamie the Tank," your soldier adds, throwing a nickname you know for a fact he just made up on the spot.
Ignoring Jamie's remark, you continue, "So let me make it clear to you, since we're pulling out rulers and measuring our dicks," It's your turn to make a move, and you advance towards the ginger soldier, your simmering agitation clearly displayed in your tone. "Glenn and Maggie are my people, that woman over there owes me a life, so I dare her to try anything... make my day," you say, glancing over at the dark-haired girl who has been observing the exchange quietly. "So that leaves you three versus us three."
You step even further into his personal space, and he watches you with a raised eyebrow. "I'm going to tell you something that might hurt your feelings, Sergeant Abraham Ford," you pronounce his name slowly and deliberately, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you look up at him. "My dick is bigger than yours."
You pull back, a cold expression settling on your face. "So, this is how it's going to go down. I'm taking Glenn and Maggie, and I will relieve you of your guns. Then, you can join us to go get my man, or you can stay here and figure out your own shit," you declare, gesturing towards the fire truck covered in walker's gut.
"You ain't taking Glenn and Maggie," Abraham asserts, his gaze shifting between Jamie's weapon and the rifle slung across your back. "They got a deal with us, a deal to accompany us all the way to DC," he states firmly, as Glenn steps forward, ready to voice his perspective. However, you raise your hand, signaling him to hold back, your eyes never wavering from the soldier.
"Well, that deal wasn't made with me, now was it?" you counter, knowing he won't risk a firefight, especially not when his doctor is within the line of fire. "I don't care what happens to you, but they are not staying out here with you to die," you tell him, your tone firm and resolute. You're uncertain how Glenn and Maggie ended up with him, but just glancing at the fire truck tells you they are ill-prepared to embark on the treacherous journey to DC. "You can throw your fists or bullets, but this is not a fight you can win."
"Hey, Abraham," the girl in the short shorts speaks up for the first time. "We can't just sit around here, can we? Let's just join 'em. She's got a car, guns, and soldiers, and she's gonna have Rick and the rest of the group. Come on, Abraham, you know damn well this is the best damn option we got."
"I agree with Ms. Espinosa," Eugene chimes in, nodding in agreement with her. "If we were to accompany her on our journey towards Washington, D.C., our likelihood of successfully reaching our destination experiences a notable increase of approximately 47 percent."
Abraham looks at his companions, realization dawning on him that he's outnumbered and outvoted. You can see his mind working, gears turning as his gaze remains fixed on you. Whatever he had been told about you had piqued his interest. Now that he has met you, you can see it in his face—the idea of joining your group, having more soldiers, your large solar-powered RV, and weapons seems to entice him. His eyes momentarily flicker down to your necklace, Charles's dog tag, the sunlight reflecting off it like a shimmering silver.
"Alright then, Doctor, I can respect that," he says, pulling out a .22 handgun and handing it to you. As you grab the gun, he holds it back just enough to catch your attention. "I like a woman with a big dick," he says with a smile, quickly adding, "figuratively speakin', of course."
"Alright then, Sergeant Abraham Ford, Rosita Espinosa, and Dr. Eugene Porter, welcome to the group," you state with a small smile, nodding your head. With that said, Jamie, without missing a beat, jumps toward Rosita, giving her a wink and a broad smile, while Merle moves to frisk the red-haired soldier.
You move toward the dark-haired girl who was once with the Governor, patting her down without looking at her. She nervously averts her gaze, her mouth opening and closing as if she wants to say something.
You don't want to waste any more unnecessary seconds when you could be heading to the church. Standing by the vehicle's door, you watch as Merle leads the new recruits into the RV, following Glenn and Maggie. Just as Jamie is about to pass you, you grab his hand, halting him. "Keep your eye on the ginger," you whisper in a hushed tone. "If the group does anything suspicious, take him out first."
"Why? They seem cool," Jamie counters.
"I think the 'scientist' is lying," you say, nodding your head towards the vehicle. He called himself a doctor, but you're uncertain about his specific educational background. It's definitely not medical-related; otherwise, he wouldn't be making such basic mistakes.
"What makes you say that?" Jamie asks, leaning closer, his voice dripping low.
"Because we can't cure a virus. There is no such thing. We can only treat the symptoms of viruses," you tell him, the one thing that has been itching in the back of your mind. "It's basic biology, and you would think someone who knows the 'cure' would know that."
"Damn," Jamie says, glancing toward the RV as chatter comes from within. "So when you say 'take him out,' do you mean take him out, take him out, or just knock him out?"
"I don't mean kill him," you say, giving him a pointed look. "Just knock him out. He's the only real threat."
Bittersweet, that's the only word that comes to mind.
You found yourself in the driver's seat, with Glenn by your side, while Merle and Jamie kept an eye on the newcomers from the back. Throughout the entire drive, your hand trembled with anticipation, refusing to relax until you could confirm Daryl's safety with your own eyes.
With every turn of the tires, your heart pounded in your chest, creating a relentless symphony of hope and fear. The world around you seemed to blur—a hazy mix of shattered glass, abandoned cars, and crumbling buildings. But amidst the chaos, your focus remained unwavering: reaching the church.
However, life had a way of throwing curveballs. When you arrived at the church, you discovered that only Michonne, Carl, and baby Judith were present, accompanied by a priest who called himself Gabriel. Laughter and hugs filled the air as the reunion continued inside the car. It was then that both you and Maggie learned that Daryl and the rest of the group were deep in the city, on a mission to rescue Beth, who was being held captive in Grady Memorial Hospital.
Here you are once again, with Glenn as your guide, clutching a map in his hand as you set out on the road. As the tall, decimated buildings of Atlanta loom past you, tears of desperation well up in your eyes. You're so close, you can almost feel it. The rhythmic beat of your heart echoes in your ears, serving as a constant reminder of the fragile optimism that clings to you like a lifeline. The sight of the hospital emerges in the distance, a beacon of hope amidst the prevailing despair.
Your foot presses hard on the gas pedal, causing the engine to roar with newfound vigor. The RV surges forward, hurtling towards the place where fate has drawn you all together.
Hastily parking the RV, you barely register your surroundings. Driven by single-minded determination, you swing the door open and sprint towards the entrance, with Maggie closely trailing behind, the thudding of your boots against the ground marking a hurried rhythm.
Your eyes focus on Rick, who emerges from the building first, the rest of the group following closely behind him. His beard is full, and his face bears the marks of dirt and weariness, as if the weight of the world rests upon his rugged features. There is a movement behind him, and in that single moment, the world seems to freeze.
Walking right behind Rick is Daryl, his figure wavering in and out of sight, mostly obscured by Rick. Tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably, a mix of laughter and relief bubbling up inside your chest. Instinctively, you break into a stumbling run, your vision blurred by tears. Rick seems taken aback by your unexpected arrival as he stops to look at you, but you are unable to acknowledge him as you swiftly weave past him.
It is only then that your jog slows, halted by the sight of Daryl's shattered expression, tears streaming down his face, his eyes so empty it chills you to the core. Cradled in his arms, he holds the lifeless body of Beth, her golden hair cascading over his arm like a frozen waterfall. Maggie's scream pierces the air, a soul-wrenching cry at the sight of her sister. Daryl glances up at you but makes no move towards you. His eyes fix on you as if you were a ghost, a haunting vision tormenting him and the girl in his arms. It's as if reality itself is playing tricks on him.
"Hey, it's okay. I'll take her," Jamie says, reaching for the girl in Daryl's arms. "I've got her," he reassures Daryl as he steps away, shouldering the weight of Beth's lifeless form. His eyes are filled with profound sadness.
Only then does Daryl look back toward you, his eyes widening, his gaze shifting from Jamie to you, as if suddenly realizing that you are all real. His hand gently reaches out for you, seeking confirmation that you are there, tangible. With a sob escaping your lips, you throw yourself into his embrace, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He holds you securely, one hand tangled in your hair, the other pressed tightly against your lower back, as he buries his face in your neck. His cries are muffled against your skin, his warm tears cascading down your neck. Overwhelmed by emotions, your lips find their way to his hair, pressing gentle kisses upon his forehead, eyebrows, and ears—anywhere you can reach. Your fingers grip his shoulders tightly, grounding yourself in that moment.
It is a bittersweet moment as you cling to each other, silently weeping in overwhelming relief, accompanied by Maggie's broken cries echoing all around you.
Daryl sits with his back against the trunk of a tree, and you kneel between his legs, resting on the back of your heels. The sun casts streams of light through the leaves, creating a gentle, wavering filter. Tenderly, you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the dirt and grime from his face, being extra gentle over the bruise that marks his eye.
Whatever has happened since you got separated, it has taken a massive toll on everyone, and you might be the only one who has come out relatively unscathed, considering the loss of Charles.
Behind you, Rick and Jamie work on digging a grave. Although you can't see her, the soft sound of Maggie's weeping still reaches your ears. "I'm sorry," you whisper, even though despair is etched on Daryl's face, he still holds your free hand tightly, his gaze never leaving you, as if afraid you will vanish if he closes his eyes for even a moment.
"At the prison, we couldn't reach the spot you told us about, the big tree. There were too many walkers, and Charles..." You start, your voice trailing off as you contemplate what might have been if you had managed to make it to the tree. Would Beth's fate be different?
"I know," Daryl interrupts, his voice rough. "I'm sorry about Charles." You nod, already aware that he is the one to discover him.
"Merle saved my life," you reveal, wanting Daryl to know the truth about how his brother stepped up for you. "He took a bullet for me. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him." Daryl's gaze shifts to his right, and you follow his line of sight to where Merle stands across the field, engaged in a discussion with Carol. As if sensing your presence, Merle turns his attention towards you. There is a fleeting moment where the two brothers exchange silent communication, and Merle nods, as if accepting some form of acknowledgment.
"Found the marks you left me, and I went lookin' for ya. Figured you might be holed up in Terminus or somethin'," Daryl begins, his voice laden with a story that you catch fragments of during the drive to the church. As Maggie and the rest of Abraham's group converse with Jamie, tales are shared about Woodbury and Terminus—stories that even shock Jamie enough to stun him into silence.
"I was in Woodbury," you interject, hoping to divert his thoughts from Terminus and the horrors they must have faced there—the trauma of encountering humanity at its absolute worst. "It's the only place I knew with walls, the only place everyone knew the location of." Daryl hums, his expression revealing that he hadn't considered Woodbury at all.
Just then, a grunt from behind catches both your attention, as Jamie and Rick emerge from the freshly dug grave, six feet deep. "Beth... She was dead set on bein' the one to track you down, you know? Wanted it real bad, to be the one to find ya," Daryl says, his eyes still fixed on the grave. "She kept me grounded, kept me from goin' off the deep end, holdin' onto that hope like it was the only thing keepin' her goin' too."
"I'm sorry I couldn't have come sooner," you whisper, your hands gently cupping Daryl's cheeks, urging him to look at you.
Daryl's voice cracks with emotion as he continues, "She looked up to you, fuckin' idolized you, and all she wanted was to be like you." Tears well up in his eyes, guilt weighing heavily upon him. "She was with me after the prison, and I failed her. She had her heart set on you bein' her mentor, and I couldn't even..."
"You did everything you could, Daryl," you say softly, your own tears streaming down your cheeks as you weep alongside him. You pull him closer, your hand cupping his face, gently wiping away his tears with your fingertips. "I wish... I just didn't know. Hershel mentioned that she looked up to me, but I just never really noticed." Memories flood your mind—how Beth used to bring you breakfast, her shy smile as she would hover by the door. You had always assumed she was just making sure you were eating, but now you wonder if she had hoped for more, if she had hoped for a conversation, for a deeper connection.
"I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm so sorry," you whisper, pressing your forehead against his. "I know she meant a lot to you, and I understand that she was perhaps the last glimmer of goodness in this world—" He interrupts you, tilting his head slightly to look into your eyes.
"Nah, that's all you. You're the last good thin' left in this messed-up world now," he states as if it were an indisputable fact. "Beth... she had that kinda innocence about her..." You nod, understanding the protective feelings he harbored for her. She had been a beacon of hope, optimism, and pure innocence, much like Jamie is for you.
"I'm not good, Daryl. Not really," you admit, thinking about all the lives you have taken, from your flu patients to the man who called himself a claimer.
"You are," Daryl insists, his voice unwavering. "You're riskin' your life, goin' beyond state lines, fightin' this damn virus, all in the name of a future we might not even get to witness. How much more good can you possibly be?"
You gaze at him, tears welling up once again. "I was going to say that you're the last good thing in this world, my fuckin' sunshine," you say, causing him to huff and look away. A chuckle escapes you as you wipe away your tears, then rest your head against his chest.
Across the open field, you see Rick emerging from the RV, carrying Beth's lifeless body. His shoulders slump under the weight of grief as he cradles her gently in his arms. There is a collective pause, and then Glenn steps forward, his arm wrapped tightly around weeping Maggie. The priest takes over, leading the somber procession and guiding them slowly towards the grave, which lies about fifty feet away from where you and Daryl sit.
"Daryl, what happened... us separating like that, it's never going to happen again, you understand?" You speak with a voice filled with determination, while your eyes remain fixed on the heartbreaking scene unfolding before you. You contemplate how easily it could have been either of you in that position. "We can't be apart, no matter what. You fight, I fight. You win, I win. You lose, I lose. You hurt, I hurt. And if you die, I die. You understand? Your decisions affect me as well. My life is in your hands. That's how it's going to work from here on out."
You pull back slightly, looking into Daryl's eyes, seeking confirmation. He nods, his gaze unwavering. "I know. I go where you go," he promises, repeating the words he had spoken to you at the guard tower, the night you had asked him to go to DC with you.
With those words spoken, you rise to your feet, pulling Daryl up with you. Together, you move closer to the site of the funeral. As they lower Beth's body into the ground, you hold Daryl's hand tightly. A mixture of grief and regret gnaws at your heart as you watch her small frame disappear beneath the earth.
The moments that follow become a blur, with Gabriel reading from the Bible, and then it's your turn. Bending down, you scoop up a handful of dirt, feeling its gritty texture against your palm. With a solemn vow, you promise Beth that you will do your best to watch out for her sister, to fulfill the role you couldn't for her.