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I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Chapter 83

~Author's Note: Alright everyone, here is what I consider the second part of the previous chapter as promised. This is what I expected the whole picture to look like. I actually like it a lot. I just feel it I guess...knowing this is the last hard chapter before the separation journey comes to an end. Anyway, I want to thank all of you so sincerely for sticking with this story, the journey it has been. This is clearly going to be the last chapter before the holidays. I think back to where I was last year at this time...after Beth died, not even writing "I Will Follow..." after the MSF anymore, and I thank every one of you for your love and support and actually returning to this fiction once I started writing it again. I also apologize to those of you who read "Wasn't Born..." as I wasn't able to get a new chapter of that up before the holiday hiatus I am taking. I guess I just felt like Beth and Daryl in "Wasn't Born..." were in a good place for right now, and I needed to focus on what was happening in "I Will Follow...", but "Wasn't Born..." will get its new chapter after the holidays. I am super excited about the first chapters after the holidays for both of these stories. I hope that all of you who celebrate have a wonderful Christmas, and I wish everyone a Happy New Year filled with all the joy and love you deserve!~
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Something about being back home...something about feeling close to Beth's goodness and light made Daryl not just stop at those gates and let Abraham out, but he paid his entrance fee. Two .45s with full clips.

"That enough to come in?"Daryl brusque with Maddox.

"Mmm-hmm." Maddox appraised him, seeing Daryl geared up and not trying to hide what he had.

Gun at his hip, new shoulder holster heavy too, crossbow across his back...well he expected that...the crossbow. He also expected Daryl not to radio in until right before he hit the gate even though he had Abe with him, expected him not to use his designation, but what he didn't expect was Daryl actually wanting to come in...wanting to stay. He didn't say anything though. Abraham had gone into military mode again as soon as they came in, asking Daryl to take his stuff and Rosita's down to their duplex when he headed that way, and left Daryl to work his deal.

"Hit the jackpot, did we?" Looking Daryl's offerings over, then looking him up and down again.

"Something like that." He sure in the hell wasn't divulging where his stash was...where home was...even if there was more of a question implied. "That enough to stay for the night or not?"

"That depends on what else you got stowed in there."

"Pfft!" All that was ever said was bring back something useful, nothing was said about getting a cut of everything. "Here..."

Daryl grabbed the shotgun from between the front seats, tossing it to Maddox followed by a box of buckshot. It was something he was planning to make payment with anyway. "For the use of Abraham."

"You don't have to pay for borrowing Ford. That was just a favor."

"I don't need any favors." Favors always came with a price.



He hadn't seen anyone except Abe since he left that first time...after the hospital, going off on Maggie and Glenn, and well, it had been what...close to a month, maybe just a little less. Anxiety had never really been his thing...just avoided people, and anyway, he didn't plan to stay long. Do what he came to do, eat, sleep, just stay the night, then start out again fresh in the morning. He parked his car out front the little duplex. If Michonne hadn't been outside honing the edge of her sword, he would've never found it, a house in a row of identical houses, the kind of world he never wanted to live in...buy into. He had the urge to just sit in the car, feeling uncomfortable, like an intruder...outsider. What if they didn't want him here? He didn't belong anywhere anymore...not without Beth. And they...they probably just all moved on. But that stay put in the car option didn't exist, Michonne standing, waiting eagerly for him to emerge.

"You're back." She didn't ask about Beth...knew better than that.

"Not back, just here." Grabbing Beth's bag...his prize. "How are we with weapons? Ammo?" Straight to the point, reverting to the only purpose he could possibly serve for them.

"We have what we came in with. They issued us what they give all the civilians which isn't much. Most of their munitions are reserved for the military."

Nothing he didn't expect...was surprised they let people be armed at all. Tossing her the car keys, Michonne caught them with her cat quick reflexes.

"Take what's in back. Just leave me some ammo and my bolts." Daryl had added more to his rolling armory from the cache back home. "And there's a bag back there with some of Abe's stuff and Rosita's. Will you get it out for them?"

"Where'd you get this?" Michonne questioned, lifting the hatch in back.

"Home. Anyone else here?" There was no need to go into any explanation; Michonne wasn't asking for one.

"Everyone should be getting back soon." Looking up at the sky, she was judging time. "It was my day off."

"Hmmph. Back to the daily grind." Days off, living in the 'burbs...everything went back to normal for them. Normal normal. But this had never been normal for him.

"Maggie's here though. She's a mess." Michonne stopped sorting through the treasure in the back of the SUV, moving in close to him, lowering her voice even though there was no one else around to hear. "They won't give her a job because they think she's unstable, and with nothing to do all day except sit in there alone, it just makes everything that much worse. Some days she only gets out of bed to walk down to the gates and ask if they brought anyone in or if you came back with any news."

Part of Daryl was vindictive enough that he was glad Maggie was hurting, but what was causing the pain...Beth...it was his torture...his failure too.

"Losing Beth twice...again..." Michonne just stopped, realizing that what she said...Maggie lost a sister, but he lost everything.

"She inside?"

Michonne nodded, Daryl forcing himself up on the porch, knocking.

"You don't have to knock. It's home."

"No, it ain't." But he didn't wait.

Michonne was right. Maggie was a mess, halfway to the door by the time he set his bag on the couch and took his crossbow off. Her hair was a tangled mat, clothes wrinkled, face drawn and pale like she hadn't seen the sun in months, dark sunken circles under her eyes. She was living the good life, and this is how she looked? But she threw herself at him and hugged him...hugged him hard...unexpected with the way they had parted. Daryl put an arm around her just to balance them.

"I'm sorry..."

Hell, it wasn't him that she should be apologizing to, but Daryl tried to settle himself, remembering that this wasn't why he came. Gently pushing her off...could only handle so much contact.

"Beth...?" Her voice quivered asking, taking a step back and giving him his space.

Dammit Maggie. Why'd she have to ask that? She knew. If he found Beth, Maggie would've been hugging her sister instead of him, and now she was forcing him to answer a question she already knew the truth of, shaking his head no, copping to his failure. Maggie's eyes were glistening with tears as she collapsed to the couch.

"I..." it was awkward for Daryl, Maggie sniffling and sobbing...never knowing how to handle this kind of shit. And especially coming fresh from being out there. "I got this for you."

Sitting down beside her and the bag, he fished out one of his precious pictures, holding it out to her. Maggie reached for it hesitantly until she realized what it was, snatching it out of his hand.

"You...you went back for this?" She wasn't looking at him anymore, eyes glued to the image of Beth...her sister.

"Mmm-hmm." Sighing, realizing how hard it was to relinquish this...this rare memory, but reminding himself that there were others.

Maggie was Beth's blood. Despite her transgressions against Beth, despite replacing her sister with Tara, she deserved to have something of Beth.

"It's a good one of her...but then I don't think she was capable of taking a bad picture. I'm in it, but you can cut me out." Going salty was the only way he could protect himself...hide his vulnerability, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Was it still there...your house...?" She couldn't manage talking about Beth long.

"I cleared it. It just took me and Abe. There was no reason they should've left. We could've gone back...we all could've gone back.

"Where is she, Daryl." Maggie lovingly stroked the surface of the picture like it was Beth, real and tangible, before she pulled it close, puffy eyes shifting to him. "Is she dead?"

"She ain't dead!" He couldn't sit by her anymore. This was a bad idea..."She ain't dead..."

But she could be...dead. I promise Beth...I'll keep you safe until I die.

That promise, it kept coming back to haunt him...it had been a lie. He couldn't protect her...couldn't keep her safe now. In those last seconds, when he thought he was going to die, when he forced Rick to abandon the group to take Beth and keep his promise...if Beth was dead, he signed her death warrant...he killed her. He ensured that he would never see her again. If Rick just stayed, Rick, Beth, and the kids would've run with the group. He would've found her with everyone else. He would've been with her here, alive...together.

But they all made it. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, Abraham, Rosita, even Tara and Eugene. He made it. Carol...Carol was dead, but Daryl killed her...it had been nothing to do with walkers or the dangers of the world...it was an execution. They all survived against the odds. What were the chances that everyone...Beth, Rick, Carl, and Judith were all going to make it too?

"She ain't dead...." He stopped pacing, standing his ground even if he was having to convince himself.

"She's not...she's not dead...you have to find her." There was just a little spark of life in Maggie's voice.

"I'm trying..." He was trying...trying so hard.

Don't show your weakness...But his broken words, his bowed head, squinting his eyes closed to stop the wetness...they all gave him away.

"I know...You...you've searched for her longer than you were married to her." What in the hell was this...what was that supposed to mean? That 'cause he could count the times he held her, slept beside her...made love to her...that she wasn't worth looking for. Was Maggie questioning him...his effort, thinking he was giving up? No...no. It didn't matter how short of a time they were together...it was there, that love...those memories...enough to keep him going. He wouldn't...couldn't give up. He'd find her or die trying. "You love her."

Daryl, on the verge of breakdown, realized it wasn't any of those things from Maggie, but rather her acknowledging his love...his loyalty to Beth. It wasn't a question, You love her, but he still answered, nodding...the truth of it tore him...ripped his gut to pieces, just how brief their happiness had been. There was never enough time.

Maggie came to him, stepped in close, and he didn't back away. She already saw his tears.

Her palm was warm against his cheek, brushing away the wetness. He let her...didn't have the strength to stop her, even when she just rested her hand there. She already knew how broken he was.

"I regret doubting you. I regret the questions I had in my heart about you and Beth...your honor. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon." Sniffing back her own tears, trying to be the strong one.

The noise...the noise was too much, everyone around him at once, even people who didn't live on this side of the duplex if he remembered right. They must've been waiting outside with Michonne, giving him and Maggie time...but now it was a flood of people, a flood of voices, a flood of questions and greetings. They might not be saying it, but he could see it...feel it in them...their sympathy, their knowledge that he still hadn't found Beth. And they caught him in this moment, so vulnerable with Maggie and their shared loss.

He failed. They knew. He couldn't stand it. The room felt like it was spinning, his heart beating in his ears like a drum stretched too tight. Voices melted together, words weren't making sense, he needed out. Daryl couldn't stay. The quiet dangers out there...outside...he could handle those, but not this. He couldn't be in this place...not with all the human noise. He needed to be out there if he ever had a chance to find her. And if he didn't...if he didn't that was where he belonged...out there...to find his end. Not this place...not in a place that could have provided a normal life for Beth...friends, family, community, a place she could've been happy. He would have stayed for her...been happy here with her, because of her, if that was what she wanted instead of going home, but without her...

Grabbing Beth's bag...he couldn't...he couldn't stay, not even for the night, retreating from his own group.



The cold air was bracing, broke Daryl out of his panic induced fog. It was getting dark...didn't matter. He had to escape. He had a car, had guns, had his bow, started to get a hold of himself again, but that damned gate loomed in front of him...trapping him. He should've never come in. It was a bad idea all the way around.

"Just take a seat and cool your heels." Maddox pointed to a leather bound chair sitting square in front of a waxy wood desk in his office.

There had been no time for a confrontation to escalate at the gates; they apparently called the boss out as soon as they saw Daryl on approach.

"No departures after dark. No exceptions. Command and Control now."

Daryl had only followed hoping to come to some more reasonable terms with him in private, away from his men. He paced the room now, refusing to sit...felt like an animal caught in a trap.

"I ain't staying. I can't stay...not with them. They..."

"You're not leaving, not tonight, but we'll fix it." He didn't make Daryl explain; seeing his state must have been enough.

Daryl plopped down in the chair inhis own time, deciding burning energy at this point wasn't gonna help him, just watching Maddox laying a binder on his desk, flipping through the pages, scrawling something, then grabbing a key from the collection on the wall.

"You need your own space. I get it. I know in here isn't the ideal situation for you, but tonight you don't have a choice." Handing Daryl the key. "It's yours, Unit 37. The trailers, you know where they are."

Daryl was reluctant taking the key, but there was really no other option.

"No strings, just a place of your own to sleep tonight and any other night you need. You've got electric, water, some rations. Just try not to be too hostile to your neighbors. The trailers are a good mix of soldiers and singlecivilians. The civilians can get skittish sometimes."

Daryl sighed, shoulders slumped forward in both relief and defeat. Relief that he didn't have to spend the night under the same roof as the others with their sympathy and judgment focused on him, defeat that he was stuck here...should've never come back in in the first place. There was no way in hell that he was ever gonna be lucky enough to find Beth waiting here for him. This world made him work...fight and bleed for everything he had, and he wasn't afraid to do it for her.

"They were mine."

Snapping back, Daryl realized he'd stopped while leaving, just a few steps away from the desk, eyes glued on a picture of a woman and three young boys in a frame on a bookshelf.

"I don't even know what happened to them, but I know they're gone. That's all I have left now, a picture."

Daryl felt awkward...just by looking, he intruded, sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

"Despite all the shit I have to deal with here, that's why when I need it, when I feel the world closing in on me, I allow myself time outside that perimeter. Nobody knows why I go out there. They think I go out there to blow off steam, just get away, but it's to remind myself what it's like out there to keep everyone safe in here, be here for them like I wasn't for my family...and because I still hope I might find them out there someday."

That was it, the reason he gave Daryl all the freedoms he did, let him break all the rules...had been the reason from the start...the moment that Daryl told him that Beth was still out there. He didn't really know why Maddox shared...why he opened up. It wasn't something men like them did often. More likely to beat each other bloody than get all sentimental together.

Daryl reached in his back pocket, unfolding his own picture, carefully smoothing out the crease.

"This is my...she's my..." All choked up, Daryl knew whatever was said here wouldn't make it past the door.

"Beautiful. You don't deserve that." It wasn't an insult. It was a compliment and a truth.

"Nobody does."



Bright, clean, tidy, untouched...it might've been a tiny government issue emergency trailer, but it had never belonged to anyone before. It was his, and it was far better than most the places he'd ever slept. But most of all, it was quiet...solitary...the best he could ask for in this fucked up situation, until morning when he hit the road, nothing but tail lights.

After his piss, Daryl stood there for a while, staring at the shower, knowing he needed one but not sure he deserved it. The draw was too strong to fight, and hell, he didn't have nothin' but time, giving in and stripping down. The steaming water washed away the dirt and blood, soaked hair plastered to his face as he was cleansed. Just pressing his palms against the wall, trying to focus on the warmth...the warmth banishing the chill of winter in his bones, the steady stream soothing muscles sore from fighting, tension, stress...clearing his head, coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about his situation tonight.

He went to bed naked as the day he was born, dry enough that he didn't care...feeling vulnerable naked though, didn't know why. Maybe it was just this place...he didn't belong, or that even if he couldn't see them, there were neighbors...people in trailers surrounding him, but he wasn't gonna put dirty clothes back on and slide into the bleached white sheets so new they didn't have a wrinkle one in 'em. Resting his hands behind his head, flat on his back, staring up at the low ceiling, as much as he hated it...being stuck here...having a place to lay his head tonight with absolutely nothing constructive to do, it was a good thing. He was forced to think...not just do. Think. Something he wasn't always so great at.

Where now Dixon?Where now? He couldn't just keep combing the same woods...he'd already come to that conclusion. There was nothing to track anymore, and so much time had passed. He was smarter than that. Beth deserved a better plan than that, and Rick deserved more credit than that. He would've had a better plan for his kids and Beth. Think like Rick...maybe he needed to try and think like Rick, except he had absolutely no idea what Rick would be doing except trying to find a safe place for Carl, Judith, and Beth. Where that place would be, he had no idea. Rick was always the thinker...and Daryl was the doer.

Daryl swiped the annoying wet stands of hair that were stuck to his forehead out of his face, the action taking his mind somewhere sweet...the first night in their home...Beth coming to bed after her bath, body still steaming warm from the water, thinking he was sleeping.

"What?" He asked softly, feeling Beth jump slightly in surprise beside him.

"I...I thought you were asleep..." It was like she was a kid that got caught doing something wrong. "What are you doing?"

"Thinkin'."

"About what?" She pressed.

"The possibilities."

When he'd pulled Beth to him, the wet ropes of her hair tickled his chest, sticking to his skin, all his senses alive, but the warmth was lulling him to sleep. Full stomach, their newfound safety, and Beth...having Beth beside him...soft bed, thinking about a fluffy future with her, and here he was now...couldn't even hold on to what was his...protect her. God reached down and smacked him in the face for living in a fucking fantasy...thinking about those possibilities. He was a hard man living in a hard world, and he went soft. Paid the price for it...paid dearly. Beth got punished for it...that was the hardest part, but he wasn't giving up on her.

Beth was strong.
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"Beth, go...Run!"

She didn't question. She didn't look back. She couldn't hold Judith and fight. She couldn't set her down either; there were too many coming from all directions. She had no choice, dodging through the line of walkers in front of her, some of them inevitably turning on her, coming after her and Judith.

They just needed distance...just some distance between them and the walkers so Beth could think. Tripping...falling hard, knees and elbow busting open on the forest floor turned rocky...at least she had Judith pulled close to her chest...the little girl not hitting the ground. But when Beth cried out, she started crying too...a death sentence for both of them. Beth tried to soothe her, breath ragged, scrambling to her feet...the walkers...she could hear them gaining. She had to run. She had to keep going. Bare branches and thorny vines grabbed at her, cut into her skin, tore at her face as she tried to shield Judith as best she could. Just running...trying to save them, she almost didn't have time to slide to a stop where the world...her world ended, landing hard on her butt, boot slipping over the edge, pebbles, small rocks, and debris bouncing down the sharp grade.

Judith had stopped crying now, just whimpering and fussing a little, Beth able to find her feet again, looking down at their only way forward...it was too late to turn around, and the gulch in front of them...the side was too steep to get Judith down safely. Looking around at the lay of the land, not knowing what else to do, Beth stowed her behind a fallen log, pulling off Daryl's poncho, and concealing Judith in it the best she could. She could only hope the darkness of the cover and the survival instinct Judith was born with would keep her quiet. Beth knew she was going to have to fight, watching the walkers closing on her, back to the sky. Pulling her gun...five bullets...there were at least ten walkers. Five bullets might make a difference, but five gunshots would just draw more to them. Beth stepped back, her heel scooting over the edge, watching more walkers emerge from the tree line.

Judith wouldn't be able to survive on her own, but she deserved a chance, a chance for Rick and Carl to find her. Looking back over her shoulder, the way down looked like some twentyfoot...but it wasn't a straight plummet. She wouldn't die, hitting the rocky steep slope on her way down instead. She'd be hurt when...she wouldn't die...but the walkers would follow her over. They smelled the fresh blood from her earlier tumble. She would fall when they pushed her back, and so would they...then...then she would die. Beth wasn't afraid of dying. Not anymore, but she was afraid of being ripped to pieces. She wasn't brave like Daryl...Daryl who fought to the end. She was a coward. Beth palmed her pistol. Five shots would draw more walkers, but Daryl...Daryl taught her that just one shot was hard for anyone or anything to triangulate on. Deciding...Beth knew she didn't have to be alive to draw the walkers over the edge, and the more blood, the more enticing. One shot...she wasn't afraid to die...she was already dead...raising her gun...

She didn't have much time left to make peace with the world, just waiting for them to get close enough...but she was ready...ready to be with Daryl.

But Judith's wail killed the chances of her sacrifice ever working...meaning anything, the walkers' attention split between the smell of Beth's blood and Judith's cries. Neither of them might live now, but she had to try. She had to fight.

Skeletal hands drug her down on top the pile of corpses. Hitting the ground, what little breath she had left knocked out of her, Beth knew this would be her last walker. She had taken out as many as she could before being pulled down herself, laying on top a heap of carnage. It scaled her body, dragging itself towards her face, Beth just frozen in exhaustion and resignation. Why didn't it just bite her?

She tried, and it wasn't enough.

Why wouldn't it bite her? Get it over with?

It was heavy on her, near enough she could feel it hissing at her...teeth chomping and clacking...maybe looking for the most tender part of her to tear into.

The baby cried again, breaking the silence and Beth's ability to accept her fate. Trying desperately to regain her knife, fishing for it in the corpses around her, holding the walker back by the neck, slimy flesh shredding off between her fingers as she tightened her hand around its windpipe. Finally able to hold it steady, hand wrapping around the hilt of her knife, Beth plunged her blade into the side of its head, staying her death for a moment longer.

She had to focus...couldn't look at everything else around her...just save the baby. She had to protect Judith. Beth had never been physically strong...just a little thing...never brutal or violent. Two were almost at Judith, Beth throwing the closest down, stomping it, smashing its skull in so hard that the impact reverberated back into her knee. Much bloodier, a more appealing target, Beth backed away, leading the last walker from Judith...didn't need any others zeroing in on the baby's location, so Beth kept leading.

What happened? Beth started noticing her wrist was aching, but she didn't stop...didn't stop stabbing, didn't stop driving her knife with the force of both hands into the pile of bone, brain, and whatever was left attached to the bare spine. But there was nothing left to hit, nothing left to stab. It was just the rocky ground underneath the massacre she made.

"Beth!" It wasn't the first time Rick called for her, was it?

He was closer now, his urgency audible, close, crashing through the woods, not even attempting to be quiet. Beth's blood coated hand slipped as she drove the knife down one last time, slicing her left palm on the razor edge of the blade. The sting woke her up, looking around...finding Rick and Carl both alive, cutting down the last of the walkers who tracked them, then, looking around...around at her kills...kills Beth couldn't even remember. Judith gave a little cry alerting them to her location, Rick nodding Carl off to retrieve his sister.

"Beth." Rick's full attention was on her, but Beth wasn't done.

There was no more head to stab...but there was a heart...where the heart was...used to be. Growling and crying, driving down with as much force as she could muster...raw emotion and primal need overpowering ration, goodness, hope, faith...just the need to destroy...totally eviscerate the monster on the ground under her. She had gone feral, but what else did she have left? These things...they tried to kill Judith...a child...a baby who couldn't fight...couldn't even protect herself. Feeling everything so acutely now...she wanted to feel...needed to...

The gravel digging into the skin broken open at her knees...

The sting of her sliced palm...her own blood flowing...

The way her knife chipped at and broke through brittle bone in the walker's chest...

They stole everything from her, her home...the people she loved...Mama, Shawn, Otis, Patricia...Daddy. Then they killed her...killed her heart and soul when they killed Daryl. They took everything from her...everything that a person could possibly lose in their life...friends, mother, father, brother...husband. The only thing they hadn't taken from her...wouldn't take was a child, but they stole the chance of her ever having one of her own. And they sure in the hell weren't going to take Judith.

She stopped, dropped her knife, saw Rick approaching slowly with his hands spread at his sides like she was dangerous and unpredictable, showing he wasn't a threat...didn't mean any harm. Beth bowed her head, seeing red dripping from the tangled strands of her hair fallen loose around her face, raising her bloodstained hands, pieces of flesh, tendon, stringy veins hanging off them. Were these really her hands? What had she become? Tears...she started to cry...feeling the tears at the corners of her eyes, but cursed herself for it. There was nothing left to cry for anymore.

What had she become?

She became what she needed to be...made herself go numb.

Beth didn't fail. Not today. She was going to be strong like Daryl. She wasn't going to fail. Daryl never did. The only thing he ever failed at was saving his own life.

Rick pulled her up...as the adrenaline started to wear off, her breath was harder to catch and the fatigue of fighting started to set in...not feeling so steady on her feet, but Rick had her.

"You okay? Are you bit? Are you hurt? Any of this blood yours?" Rick frantic, looking her up and down.

Too many questions. Too much to process. She just had to answer the most important one so Rick wouldn't put a bullet between her eyes.

"Not bit..."

He hugged her close, but Beth couldn't hug back.

"We need to get you cleaned up and checked out before we move. We crossed a creek just a little ways back." Didn't he believe her that she wasn't bit? "Carl, you got Judith?"

Carl must have nodded because Rick lead the way back into the woods, Beth's arm captured in his grasp, helping her over the corpses that littered the path, giving her no choice but to follow.

The water was icy cold on her busted knees, Rick trying to be gentle washing the blood and dirt away with his hands. It stung even more when he started to pick out the tiny pieces of gravel that embedded themselves in the wounds, but she didn't flinch away. Keeping her hand balled, knowing her sliced palm was the worst of it, trying to get the bleeding to stop...the blood to congeal...Rick was working his way up her body dealing with her hurts, now peeling back her shredded sleeve, attending her split elbow.

"Thank you." Beth heard him, Rick's voice humbled, the admission of a strong man who wasn't able to protect his own child.

That didn't make him any less of a man in her eyes, and who was she to even judge? Rick was protecting her because of a promise he made to Daryl.

The water cupped up to her cheek was shocking against her skin, but his hands were soft in wiping away the blood...pulling bits of gore tenderly from her hair. Was she that much of a mess? Maybe it wasn't until then that Rick noticed her clenched fist.

"Beth...let me see..." Prying her fingers open, the blood was still running.

He forced both her hands under the bitter surface of the water. It burned her sliced palm, but the freezing effect soothed it soon enough, Beth watching the blood in fascination as it washed away in the current of the stream.

But then...frantic...fighting Rick's grip holding her hands flat and open under the water, Beth jerked and splashed, trying to break free, seeing her ring beginning to slip off her finger. Rick's force, the wound on her hand, the numbness caused by the water, it was impossible for her to fight it all and close her fingers.

"I know it hurts, but we have to clean it." Rick was adamant and unyielding...but it wasn't the pain...it was her life...what was left of it...her wedding ring slipping away.

"No...stop. Please!" Rick released if only to stop her from yelling and drawing danger down on them.

Cradling her wet, bleeding hand to her chest...it was too gaunt, her fingers grown to thin and boney to wear it on her ring finger anymore...where it belonged. How she could be more broken than she already was, she didn't know. She didn't cry, but the trauma...the devastation was there, removing the silver wings from where they belonged, where Daryl slipped that wedding ring so nervously and lovingly on her hand, shifting it to her index finger. Beth told herself she would never take it off. Daryl put it on...that's where it was supposed to stay. She wasn't numb enough not to feel this pain.

"I'm sorry, Beth." Finally realizing why she was fighting so hard, pulling her just close enough, hand in her hair, Rick kissed her forehead. It was all the comfort he had to give, but he knew it wasn't enough. Nothing ever would be.

He cut away the cuff of his shirt, making a tight and efficient bandage for her palm.
But then, when he was done tending her wound, when the immediacy of survival spurred by the fight with the walkers wore of and Rick started seeing again...really seeing it was like he started to comprehend something bigger.

"Beth...what have you done?" Reaching out and snatching up her arm, not even giving her a chance to try to avoid.

He forced her hand up, seeing all the evidence he needed to know the answer to his question, her thin fingers...not slender...thin, realizing why she had to shift her wedding ring. But he didn't stop there, forcing the neck of her shirt over her shoulder, free hand grazing over her prominent collarbone, then reaching down to her side feeling her ribs. He had no right...she wanted to jerk away, wanted to fight, but there was no point. He already knew...already saw. She just wanted Daryl's poncho back, to hide under its safety.

"Just stay there." Rick commanded, Beth not really able to get a read on him; he was pissed and worried and whole bunch of other things.

He produced the plastic sleeve of almonds he'd been hording in his pocket...a meal for them all, dropping it in her lap.

"Eat."

"Eat...I...no, I can't..."

"You're going to sit there until you eat all of that, and I'm going to stand here and watch you until you're done."

Beth chewed her lip, looking down, both avoiding Rick's intensity and contemplating the food.

"Judith...and Carl..." Beth was putting up the best argument she could, but was she really convincing anyone?

"Judith's too young for nuts, you know that. Carl, he's fine. He's not starving. Eat."

She went to make another excuse, but she didn't have any...not any that made sense.

"You don't want to die, Beth. There's still a life for you..."

She didn't want to die? Was Rick right? She fought so hard. And Daryl...he'd wanted her to live. He died so she could.

The almonds were salty, crunchy...heaven. The queasiness when they hit her long empty stomach so worth it...it didn't stop her from shoving more in her mouth.

"Take it slow. There's no use to have them just come back up again," Rick cautioned, true to his word, standing over her, watching her eat.

One almond...just one almond at a time, a slow process. She felt so guilty eating, Rick standing there monitoring her, Carl sitting in the grass a little distance away with Judith. She didn't deserve the food anymore than any of them, but she couldn't stop.

"We should follow the stream." Beth said, pausing to make sure her stomach was going to handle the amount of food that was filling it. It was so little food in the scope of things...but it was so much.

"Hmmm?" Rick probably assumed in her state, she wasn't capable of making rational decisions, much less deciding their course forward.

"We should follow the stream. Water. Animals need to drink too...so maybe food if we can catch it. And water always leads somewhere. Walkers can't cross it easily either." Daryl taught her those things, how to survive.

If Rick wanted to find a road, this was a good chance. It was a sizeable creek. It might not lead them to a highway, but it might lead them to a farm or country house that would eventually lead them to a road. Water always eventually lead somewhere.

"We should follow the stream," he agreed.

Notes

Comments

@Smokey85
Awww...thank you so much for coming back to read! You are amazing. I truly appreciate it!

Aireabella Aireabella
3/30/19

I am so happy you are back! I love your stories and always look forward to your updates! Thank you for sharing your work :)

Smokey85 Smokey85
3/26/19

@McDrogoInaNewWorld
So glad that you enjoyed it! It always makes my day when I can make people happy by doing what I love! Thank you so much!

Aireabella Aireabella
6/14/18

Yay!!! Another great chapter on the books, can’t wait to see what happens next!!

@blesdirishangel
Thank you so much for coming back to my fic and for your comment! I am glad that you love the update. You are amazing!

Aireabella Aireabella
6/7/18