Chapter Text
“Ya think yer gonna find somethin’ else? The guns are gone an’ we need ta stick to the plan.”
Rick’s fingers were tapping the holster on his hips. A sign that he was getting impatient. He’d come for guns and found nothing but a ghost from the beginning and a baby. He wanted his guns. He wanted Negan dead. Nothing else was going to get in his way at this point.
“I dunno, man. I already found three of them cells. Looked just like the one they kept me in. If they’re holdin’ somebody here, I ain’t gonna leave ‘em like that.”
Everytime Daryl had opened one of those cells, he’d been shot back: sitting in the dark, naked and cold, eating dog food sandwiches. And the song. That stupid fucking song that still jolted him awake at night. The thought that there could be someone here, someone that had been through what he had.
Yeah, he was gonna check every cell. Just in case.
Rick huffed out an exasperated sigh and turned to go, cradling the baby he’d found in his arms. “Do what ya gotta do, but do it fast. We gotta get this finished and get the hell outta here.”
Daryl gave him a nod. He’d been through three of the closets and had found evidence someone had been here recently. There were three more to check, but he was sure he’d heard a soft noise coming from the one on the end. For a moment, it sounded almost musical to him. A sound he hadn’t heard in a long time.
He went for the handle, but this one was locked. Someone was in there. He could hear them breathing.
“I’m not with the pricks that threw ya in here. I’m gonna get ya outta there.” He called through the door. Daryl looked at the doors on the other closets; they weren’t reinforced like his had been at the Sanctuary. “I need ya to get in the corner farthest from the door. Keep yer head tucked down. Cover it, if ya can.”
He took two large steps back and gathered all the strength he could before driving his foot, heel first, into the door. The flimsy plywood shattered where his foot connected right next to the handle. The lock was still attached, but the door was no longer part of it. He pushed past the ruined wood and slowly walked in.
They’d listened to him. She’d listened to him. Definitely a woman. She was folded in on herself, head resting on her knees and her arms covering her head the best she could.
“Hey. it’s alrigh’, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Can ya stand up? You chained ta somethin’ in here we need to get ya out of?”
She shook her head and he could see pale blonde hair. Just like… no. She was just on his mind because of the quiet singing he’d heard. But then she looked up at him. And if he hadn’t been bracing one of his arms against the door frame, he would've fallen right over.
It wasn’t just the blonde hair. But those same pale blue eyes, same pale skin—pale skin marred by scars, but still perfect. They’d put her in sweats like they’d done to him, but hers were clean and light pink. Still had that fucking handle on the back for one of those assholes to lead her around. The look on her face was most likely a mirror image of his own. Shock. Trying to figure out if the person in front of them was real or just an effect from being stuck in this place.
Like it had always been with them, she had to speak first.
“Daryl?” Her voice was rough, like she hadn’t used it in days. And breathless, like she hadn’t taken a full breath until this very moment. “Am I dead? Did the Saviors kill me? Is that why you’re here? Are you takin’ me to heaven?”
Daryl shook his head and tried to swallow back the tears that were gathering in his eyes. What had these assholes done to her? He’d wanted to kill them all before, but now, seeing Beth like this… he wanted to rip them all to shreds with his bare hands.
“Nah, girl, you ain’t dead. I’m gettin’ ya outta here.”
She wasn’t chained, but she could barely walk, so just like he’d done at the funeral home, he swung her up into his arms and started towards the exit.
She immediately revolted. “NO! I can’t leave her. I gotta get her. Put me down, I gotta get her!”
She was struggling so hard to get out of his arms that he had no choice but to set her down. She took off running, towards the same direction that he and Rick had been a few minutes before. She ran into a room, not even looking at the man that was impaled against the wall. There was a second door and she ran through that one, but stopped in her tracks and screamed. A scream that made his blood run cold.
“Where is she?! Did they take her? Oh my God, where is she? Daryl—where is she?! I can’t leave without her!” She was sobbing hysterically before he could understand what was going on. Her legs finally gave out and she collapsed in a heap, her hand grasped around the rail of a crib.
“Ya mean the baby? The one that was in here? Rick has her. Took her down to the cars. I’ll take ya there right now. C’mon.” Daryl went to pick her up again and she shook her head, though she leaned against him for support.
“Rick has her? Rick has Gracie? You’re sure he has her?” Beth had both of her little hands wrapped around his upper arms and with every question, her grip got tighter. “Scott—Scott didn’t get out with her?”
He wrapped an arm around her and started to lead her out. “Yeah, Rick’s got ‘er. Don’t know who the hell Scott is, bu…”
Beth had let go of him and was walking towards the very dead man still pinned against the wall. He didn’t know what to expect as she walked up to him. Her eyes were blank. And then they weren’t. They flashed with rage. The first punch was to his gut, followed by as many wallops as she could manage before she ran out of energy and hunched over, her elbows resting on her knees.
Beth raised up and walked to where she was face-to-face with the corpse. She spit in his face and when she spoke, the voice wasn’t Beth’s. Instead, it was the voice of someone full of pain, anger, and desperation. Someone who’d endured a hell of a lot more than Daryl could ever begin to imagine.
“I wish it had been me. I wish I’d have been the one to see the life drain outta your eyes. To finally see the evil gone. I hope yer rotting in hell, you sick bastard.”
She turned around and, for a moment, it was like she didn't recognize Daryl. But then the mask of whatever had taken over slipped off, and her shoulders dropped. A few deep breaths and she was ready to go.
“Just help keep me steady, Daryl. I can walk. Jus’ take me to Gracie. Take me to my daughter.”