I just want to apologize in advance for the action writing in this chapter. It's my first attempt, and I can see it in my head but that doesn't mean it transferred well.
This is also the last chapter of this part of the story. We're going to get some different scenery with the next one :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Before
She'd known that disrupting the CRM as they knew it would be a bloody endeavor, she just didn't think (hoped) it wouldn't be her blood that ended up being spilled.
Off to her left Beale was laying cover fire for some of their brethren closing in on Walters' men holding hostages. Okafor standing guard with a few trusted men, stopping any other pilots from taking flight. And somehow, she ended up face to face with the General himself, just a hunting knife and an emptied gun to his Confederate sword. He grinned at her, clearly seeing a little girl that he could overpower easily.
Wrong.
Beth was quick as she chucked the empty gun directly at his face, stunning him with the unexpected, dirty move. The metal opened a cut on his forehead and he slashed wildly at her as she ducked and spun behind him, running her blade across the back of his thigh. When he turned she was gone again, spinning the other direction to land a punch to his gut.
She wasn't strong enough to do much damage through his coat and vest, but he still puffed out air at the force. She was too close for him to swing with his blade, but he used his uninjured leg to kick her a few feet away, bringing his weapon down to cut her down. She was just quick enough on her feet to step back and turn her face away, feeling the steel knick her under the ear and down across her chest instead of cleaving her in half.
The blow stole her breath away and her body heated as her blood pooled to seep from the wound. Beth looked at him, his intent for a second slice with his sword, and prepared to move out of the way however she could when the man's head shot backward with the force of a blast. He fell backward and lay unmoving as she turned to see Beale with his gun raised.
He'd just saved her life.
Now
It was hard to determine which side everyone was on, as they were all dressed similarly. Multiple battlegrounds appeared across the room as enlisted fired on red-lined soldiers, and vice versa. She looked back at the stage to see Beale striding towards her, the blade he took from General Walters body in his grasp. She should have known it'd come to this. He was a proven master at planning a coup.
"It doesn't have to be this way," he said calmly. "You can come quietly and they'll all stand down."
She scoffed at him. As if she would ever do such a thing. "Remember that you started this, not me." She pulled her side arm and he lunged. She spun out of the way, much quicker on her feet than a man nearly three times her age. She fired at him twice as he ducked behind a column holding up the stage's canopy before switching gun hands and drawing out her large hunting knife to use in her dominant hand.
All around her were the sounds of combat, and she knew she'd lose some of her hearing from the amount of gunshots going off in the enclosed space. Both weapons raised, she rounded the beam ready to take the Major General on, but he was ready for her. He'd pulled one of his throwing knives, aiming it towards her but she sidestepped at the last second and it hit someone behind her. She fired twice more at him but her left hand wasn't as accurate as her left; one shot missed and the other grazed his free arm. Someone bumped into her from behind and she lost her grip on the gun, dropping it to the floor with no time to retrieve it. He used the moment she stumbled to advance, now close enough to start swinging again.
She got out of the way–almost. The tip of the sword sliced her exposed arm just under the bite mark she brandished. Just a little lower and it'd make a matching set for the one she'd caused with glass herself. He slashed again, sloppy, as she spun out of the way easily and he came down on an overturned chair.
She got behind him and stabbed into the back of his leg, dragging the blade out opposite of where it went in to cause the most damage. He hissed as he plunged the sword under his arm and behind him, coming into contact with her ribs.
The Councilor backed up and breathed deep, fire running up her side as her former ally faced her, ready for a final bow. She slid forward just as he swung down, placing herself in between him and where the blade would hit. She thrust her knife into the space under his arm where his vest left a gap. He jerked as he took the blow, both of them knowing how fatal it would be if she hit all the right organs. Her mentor looked her in the eye, blue to blue, and attempted to convey an emotion she refused to accept from him: regret. Her eyes hardened as she removed her blade from his side to slowly glide it across his neck, as his warm blood sprayed directly in her face at their close proximity.
As his body slumped to the ground she focused on the scene around her. Stokes laid eyes wide and unmoving. Thorne was losing her fight against Michonne, barely holding her ground—it wasn't a fair fight to begin with.
Rick stood surrounded by bodies he'd cut down, staring at her blood soaked face as the final battles came to their end. He must have seen something in her form that frightened him, because even at a distance she could see his body shiver.
She locked eyes with him for a few fleeting moments, both of them trying to read each other's thoughts. Behind her, Shepherd called her name and she turned, glancing around the room at the fallen. On the stage, two Council members lay dead and the third was grasping his neck, blood pooling between his fingers. If he died, she'd have a hell of a time convincing the Civic Republic that this wasn't her mutiny.
She yelled for a medic before she looked back at where Rick and Michonne stood. They were gone.
Future
The needle was pulled from her arm and she watched as Dr. Siegal placed a bandage on the broken skin before turning to label the vial of blood she'd just collected. "That should be all we need for now. Any changes to your health since the last draw?" She shook her head at the older woman. "I'll let you know if we find anything different. We got closer with the last antibodies we pulled, it's just finding the right combination to make them transferable."
She was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Suspicious, because Shepherd knew that she was not to be disturbed while meeting with Dr. Siegal or any of the other scientists working towards the cure. Her brows furrowed as she called out for her to come in, even more apprehensive when a second body joined her in the doorway holding what looked to be a tape recorder. "I'm sorry ma'am but–"
"What is it?" she asked impatiently to her assistant before looking at the other person. "And who are you?"
The thin man looked cautious as he was called on to speak, and pushed his glasses up his nose as he stammered. "Neal Hawkins, Ms–Councilor–ma'am. I work in the communications office." She looked at him expectantly waiting for him to explain why he was in her office. "There was—well, a message came in, and we–I thought you'd want to hear it right away."
Her eyes narrowed at him and she waited for him to continue. When he didn't she raised one eyebrow at him. "Well, Neal?"
Hearing his name from her mouth seemed to spur him into action and he almost jumped. "Yes! There's–I made a recording." At that he pushed a button on the machine and she froze at the voice that came out.
"This is a message for Beth Greene at the Civic Republic," Rick Grimes breathed out. "We need your help. It's Daryl."
Notes:
So here is where the timelines are going to get a little wonky. I've been using TWD Wiki as a general guide, but for the purpose of this story:
Spring 2022 = End of Commonwealth war
Fall 2022 = Rick and Michonne reunite
Spring 2023 = Daryl leaves the Commonwealth
Summer 2023 = Rick and Michonne reunite with the kids
Fall 2023 = Daryl arrives in France, Carol attempts to find him, Rick radios Beth
I hope this is not too confusing