Her grandpa had this old fishing boat, just a tiny thing with oars, that passed down to her daddy just like the farm. It wasn't worth much of anything really, and sat near the back of the barn covered in cobwebs until the day Beth finished reading Anne of Green Gables and thought Matty McClune might come rescue her from drowning if her boat sank. Drug the whole thing by herself across the field to that muddy pond and pushed off from the bank using one of the oars.
She didn't think about the fact that everyone in town knew she was a stronger swimmer; it was romantic, even if it was Jimmy who fished her out of the water instead of his older brother.
Despite it being nothing more than an old memory to him, Hershel had 11-year-old Beth drag the half-sank dory out of the pond and clean it til it gleaned in the sun as her punishment for the ordeal. He couldn't understand why his elder daughter offered to help her at the time, but he found out a few weeks later when he caught 17-year-old Maggie kissing some boy as they floated in the water.
It became a family joke that if one of the kids was going to do some trouble it'd be somewhere around that rowboat.
The first time Shawn got drunk was on the last night of summer football practice his freshman year of high school, where he tripped over one the oars and broke his wrist. He had to set out most of the season while the break healed. Maggie smoked pot for the first time with her ass in that boat thinking that being out in the middle of the pond would stop the smell from reaching the shore (she was wrong). Beth got away with a lot more than her siblings did, being the baby and all, but she had her first kiss with Jimmy in that boat, and got in trouble for pushing Maggie in the water for making fun of her for it.
Hershel and Annette knew anytime one of their children started heading towards that area of the farm that they were likely up to no good. There was just something about the Greene kids and that rusty old rowboat.
NowIt only took half a day for her to realize that she was the type to get seasick. She should've guessed it; everything else had gone relatively smooth so she supposed she was due. It was settled in her stomach enough that as long as the ship didn't rock too badly, she wouldn't need to rush to the tiny bathroom. She didn't even want to look at the food that Dane's crew members brought in for them.
The family was giving her a wide berth, and that could be from both because of what she'd done and what she might end up doing if she moved around too much. She heard their soft voices talking to each other, never addressing her. They gave her plenty of looks though, of varying degrees.
Judith would stare at her outright and turn her head quickly whenever the Councilor would catch her in the act. The woman considered it to be a combination of the strange scars on her face and whatever stories the others had told her. If she had to guess, Beth thought that the girl was trying to reconcile the two, create a story that would get her from that to this.
Michonne still glared daggers anytime her gaze would cross the blonde, unlikely to forget her part in Rick's absence anytime soon. It's a good thing she wasn't looking for forgiveness.
And Rick switched between baffled and cautious, the two often converging on his face in a strange way. Even though he was the one who had the most reason to hate her, mistrust her, fear her, he was still the person in this room she felt the closest to.
The doctor came in periodically to take another vial of blood and once she was walked down to Boswell's lab. The woman must have known that Beth was struggling with her nausea as she slipped her some medication that the captain was likely hoarding for the crew. It helped a little but not much, and with the blood draws and not eating, she was more than unsteady on her feet. She tried answering the questions the doctor would ask but often snapped back her responses, too tired and irritable to care.
She must have said something to Dane, as the "not leave the hangar" rule was broken for all of them shortly after. They were allowed onto a small area of the deck for fresh air and sunlight, though she wasn't sure it helped the rolling in her stomach. She felt like a wraith as she basically crawled outdoors, looked like one too if the faces of the crew members were anything to go by.
Four days of unsteady shifting with the rocking of the boat had her ready to jump into the sea.
Dane came to tell them as the sun was setting that the coast could be seen in the distance. They'd be there in the morning. "Have you decided on a place for the drop off?" She hadn't, and she was ashamed that it hadn't even crossed her mind.
She cracked her eyes open from the spot on the floor where she sat scrunched up in a ball near the bathroom trying to move as little as possible. She watched as the others repacked their bags of the supplies they'd had out the last few days and realized that she didn't have anything with her other than what was on her body. She was so invested in the end result that she hadn't actually planned anything at all.
"What about Normandy? It's on the coast, right? My grandfather used to tell us about the beach during the war," the sheriff admitted.
His wife huffed at him. "Normandy would add half a day?" She looked at the captain who agreed with the assessment. "We'd have to go around to the northernmost part of the country." She thinks for a moment. "What about the Loire? We could take a boat all the way into Nantes and get a feel for things before going ashore."
The Councilor swallowed before speaking. "How do you know so much about France?" she asked the woman.
Michonne narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "I studied abroad in Paris for a year."
"You speak French?" her husband asked with a brow raised.
She hummed. "Assez pour s'en sortir (Enough to get by) . Would that work?" she asked, looking at Dane.
The captain looked between the married couple before glazing at the woman in the fetal position nearby. "The deal was to drop you and pick you up, not lend you a skiff you might not bring back. But we could make another deal." The words instantly had her hackles raised as there wasn't anything else left to give. "Why don't you stay here Greene, while they go off on shore. You're in no condition to go anyway, and Boswell can help you out, run some more tests. You won't be slowing them down either."
And there it was. She didn't hesitate although the voice that came out of her sounded much weaker than her own. "I'm sick because I'm on this shitship. I'm not staying on it any longer than I have to." She hoped the words expressed her finality on the matter, and she was relieved when no one argued with her.
The room was quiet for a moment before another voice spoke up. "I think we should go to Normandy, like Dad said," Judith offered. "Uncle Daryl told me his grandpa died there. He might want to go see it."
The adults all exchanged looks. "It's the most we have to go on," Rick shrugged. "It's not like we have anything else to go off of."
The captain nodded. "Normandy it is then. We'll drop you on the beach tomorrow afternoon." With that he left the room.
Those that remained waited until the door fully latched shut before releasing a collective breath. The Councilor closed her eyes again to wallow in agony for the next few hours before popping them back open at Michonne's words. "You shouldn't have told them about it."
The "it" was obvious, as her response should have been too. "They would've seen it anyway with the body check. I had to use it for what I could."
They were silent again for a few minutes until Rick spoke again. "I doubt they'll give us any supplies…"
"A radio, at least," she interrupted, as her eyes slid closed once again. "To call them for the ride home."
She heard him start to move around the space. "Yeah, but I'm not counting on anything else. Whatever food they bring tonight, let's pack it away. And half the breakfast. Judith," he paused, probably waiting for her attention, "go around and see what else you can grab. Anything from those cabinets or the bathroom we can take."
She heard the girl's light footsteps move towards the other side of the room as another set came closer to her. "Beth," Rick said. He must have crouched down to her level as he sounded a lot closer than he should have been. She opened her eyes to meet his blue ones only a couple feet away from her. "Any chance you can grab some medical supplies when Boswell comes to get you in the morning?"
She frowned at him. "No, they watch me the whole time. Even if she gives me something, they watch me take it."
He looked surprised. "They're giving you medicine?"
"Mhmm," she hummed. "Anti-nausea pills and something for my head. I get headaches," she explained. That, apparently, was too much of a reminder of who they were and how they got here because he rocked back on his heels before standing. "I'll worry about supplies once I'm on dry land. Can't do anything right now."
He seemed to accept this as he moved away from her and joined his wife in taking inventory of what they did have. She looked near the medical screen where their child searched through cupboards for anything useful. She hated feeling like she was sitting on her ass doing nothing but she wasn't certain she could stand at the moment.
The hours flew by quickly as she dosed in and out of consciousness. Boswell visited at some point but only to slip her a small pill bottle which she tucked away quickly. The doctor lifted a cup of cold water to her lips as she swallowed down a few capsules that were held separate from the ones she'd smuggled. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Beth attempted her best incredulous face and likely failed, but the woman got the idea. She motioned to the sailor who'd accompanied her, and reached for the bag the man carried. "I packed you a change of clothes and a few other things Dane would allow. A canteen, some MREs, and a map. He'll give you a radio on deck." She looked the younger woman over and frowned. "Good luck."
Before she knew it she was standing precariously and they were shuffled off the side of the ship into a dingy much like the one they arrived on. This smaller boat in moving through the waves was much much worse than she remembered it being the last time, and she squeezed her eyes shut while she held onto the bench seat for dear life, trying not to hurl.
She risked opening her eyes when their youngest companion exclaimed. Before her was the beautiful coastline that stretched as far as she could see in both directions. She focused on the land and it seemed to help her stomach some, as they got closer and she could see with more detail. Even from a distance you could see that it was a type of calm most places weren't anymore, as the only movement was from the log grasses moving with the breeze.
Before she knew it they were pulling up to shore. As soon as they settled on the sand she was moving with more energy than she'd had in days, jumping from the boat and onto dry land.
France. Daryl.
She would have kissed the ground if she thought it wouldn't get sand in her mouth.