Archive of Our Own

Beth woke up on the cold, damp grass in the woods. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The pre-dawn light was just barely beginning to peek through the trees, not nearly bright enough to wake her up. And yet, she was awake. There were no rasping growls of walkers nearby, no other sounds to indicate a threat. As she sat up cautiously, she couldn't help thinking it was maybe a little too quiet. 

And then she realized.

She was alone. 

She scanned her surroundings slowly, sure that Daryl must be nearby. He probably just stepped away to pee or something. But as the seconds turned to minutes, that possibility seemed less and less likely. 

And then suddenly she wasn't sure how long she'd been awake, how long she'd been awaiting his return. Had it been minutes or hours? Time felt strangely abstract. She looked up, hoping to gauge the time of day by location of the sun. She had seen the sun coming up earlier… hadn't she? But now the sky revealed nothing more than a gray, gloomy haze. She thought a storm must be coming in, the cloud cover blocking what little sunlight had shown earlier. But the air didn't feel like it was going to rain. 

Everything around her was still. There was no breeze tickling her skin or rattling the tree branches. No walkers shuffling through the dried leaves on the ground.

And there was still no sign of Daryl. 

Signs. That's right, she'd look for the signs. She stood, turning slowly in a circle, looking around the small clearing and the trees along the edge, searching for any indication of which direction Daryl might have gone. But other than the small patch where she'd just lain, there were no indentations in the grass, no disturbance of the leaf litter to indicate anyone had walked through it. But that didn't make any sense. Surely there should be some sort of tracks, otherwise how had she ended up in the center of this little clearing? 

She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all, but quickly stopped as she realized she had a throbbing headache, and she was only making it worse. She was probably dehydrated. She glanced down at the ground, noticing for the first time that she didn't have her backpack or any other supplies with her. That was odd. It was unlike Daryl to leave her alone, but he never left her without whatever supplies they had. She patted her pockets, finding them empty, but was relieved to find her knife still sheathed at her hip. 

Daryl must have gone to find water. There’d be no reason for him to leave and go hunting in the middle of the night while she slept, but if they'd been out of water, maybe he'd taken the pack to refill the empty bottles.

Had they been out of water when she went to bed? She couldn't remember. 

And she was struck again by the disorientation where time was concerned. She could remember so many nights that they'd slept out here in the woods, but didn't know which of them was last night. The dehydration must really be messing with her head. She couldn't risk waiting here for Daryl to get back with water. 

She needed to find water. But which way should she go? She listened intently again, hoping with the lack of breeze rustling the trees she'd be able to hear running water in the distance, but there was nothing but silence. 

She started walking straight ahead until she reached the edge of the clearing, then stopped and listened again. Still nothing. She decided to take a lap around the clearing, hoping she'd be closer to water on the opposite side and be able to hear it. 

As she circled the clearing, she looked for broken branches or scuffed tree bark, still hoping for signs of Daryl. She paused every so often, listening, hoping for the sounds of a creek or stream, but heard nothing. Time still felt wonky, and the next thing she knew, she'd completed her lap of the clearing. Or had she? She couldn't quite tell if this was where she'd started or not. She took her knife from her belt and carved a large “X” into the trunk of the nearest tree to mark her location, then began walking the perimeter of the clearing again. As she walked, she couldn't help thinking that the clearing looked larger than before. How long would it take her to complete the circle? 

Minutes later – or maybe hours – Beth reached the tree with the “X” again. She was relieved to have reached her destination, though she wasn't sure what was so important about this particular tree or why she'd needed to find it so badly. She was sure she was forgetting something important. 

She bit her lip in concentration and tasted blood. She ran her tongue over lips and found them to be drier than usual, starting to crack. Right, dehydration. She needed to find water. 

She examined the “X” on the tree again, and wondered if perhaps this tree was to mark the direction she needed to take to get to water. Maybe Daryl had left this sign for her to follow. 

She stepped into the woods, the dense tree canopy filtering out even more of the already limited daylight. It was slow-going, navigating the woods in the nearly pitch-black darkness, but she continued on. At some point, she thought she heard voices, and she froze, listening. That sounded like Rick, and some other voice that sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. The voices were muffled, garbled, almost as if they were speaking underwater. 

And she thought surely her ears were playing tricks on her. Those weren't voices, it was running water! 

She picked up the pace, stumbling over tree roots and her clothes catching on low branches as she went. She hissed in a breath as she felt a sharp pain inside her left arm. She stopped running and looked down to find her arm covered in small scratches. The branches around her were all covered in thorns. How had she not realized that sooner? 

She looked ahead, only to find more thorny branches blocking her path. She could no longer hear the voices, but felt sure this had to be the right way. She began walking again. More slowly and more cautiously this time, avoiding the branches as best she could. 

She heard voices in the distance again, and thought she saw someone up ahead. She picked up the pace, only to find her clothes had snagged on the branches and she was stuck. Every time she freed herself from one branch, she found herself snagged on another. The people up ahead were moving toward her now, but she couldn't make out their faces, just shadowy silhouettes closing in around her. The voices weren't getting any closer though, and it was suddenly clear to her that the muffled voices in the distance weren't coming from these figures. 

As the shadowy outlines moved closer, she still couldn't see their faces, and they weren't making any noise, but she knew they were walkers. The walkers were closing in around her, and then suddenly the moonlight from the full moon shone through a gap in the trees, illuminating her surroundings. Five or six walkers had formed a circle around her, only the thorny branches keeping them at bay. Somehow her own clothing was now freed from the branches, but she had nowhere to go, no way out. She sank down to the ground, looking up at the walkers surrounding her with their snapping jaws. The walkers reached their hands through the branches, the sharp thorns tearing their decomposing flesh, rotting muscle and sinew hanging loosely off the bones.

It was getting darker now, and the branches seemed to grow and weave together into a tight lattice around her. She could barely see the walkers through the thick vegetation, leaving nothing more than shadows again, until the branches seemed to weave even tighter together, until everything went black. 

As Beth's awareness came back to her, everything was still dark. She was certain that the thick branches had been closing in to suffocate her, and yet, she wasn't dead. Or at least she didn't think she was dead. This definitely wasn't Heaven, but she was pretty sure this wasn't Hell either. Although she wasn't so sure she believed in any of that anymore. But surely when people died their consciousness didn't just live on in a dark limbo forever. If she was dead, she'd just cease to exist anymore, right? 

She lay there in the dark crypt made of branches until she didn't know if days or merely hours had passed. 

She'd taken her knife from her belt again, and was tracing a fingertip back and forth along the handle. 

Surely she must be dead by now. Cruel as it was, this must just be what happens after death. But what if… 

She pressed her fingertip gently to the blade. It was sharp. It hurt. 

Come to think of it, her head still hurt too, though it had subsided to a dull throb. 

If she was dead, she wouldn't be able to feel any pain, right? 

She traced the handle of her knife again.

She wasn't dead. but she wasn't living either, just lying here in the darkness, entombed by overgrown plants. How long has it been since she'd eaten, since she'd had something to drink? How long would it take for her to lay here and slowly starve to death, or die of dehydration? 

She hadn't been able to go through with it before, at the farm. She'd sliced into her wrist with that shard of mirror and immediately regretted it, immediately wanted to fix it, wanted to live. 

Did she still want to live? Could she go through with it now, here in this tomb of darkness? Could she take the knife to her wrist and slice deep enough to take her out of this misery? She was dying anyway. Wouldn't this be the more peaceful way to go? 

Or could she hold on a little longer. Could she withstand this unknown darkness without going insane? Could she push through the hunger pains she was sure to feel any minute now. Was there any hope of ever getting out of this place? Any hope of survival? 

She lowered the knife with a sigh. She'd fought too hard to stay alive this long. While laying here doing nothing felt like giving up, killing herself would be the true act of giving up. And she wasn't there yet. 

So she lay there in the dark, and waited. It was an odd experience, waiting to die. Or, since she hadn't given up, was she waiting to not die? Waiting for some chance to survive? She closed her eyes. Thinking this much made her head hurt. And if she fell asleep, maybe she could somehow skip the worst parts of dying. Maybe she could just drift off and never wake up. 

Beth heard voices again. That familiar voice she couldn't quite place again, and this time maybe Carol? The voices were muffled and distant, like before. 

She blinked her eyes open, and the voices stopped. But something was different. It wasn't completely dark anymore. She couldn't see any cracks or holes among the interwoven branches, specifically letting the light in, but it wasn't pitch black inside anymore. Maybe the sun had come out and was somehow bright enough to permeate through the leaves? She could even make out a slight shadow moving above her. A lone walker must still be waiting for her to emerge, or perhaps it was stuck there, snagged on a branch and unable to wander off in search of a different meal. 

“Hi, Beth.” Carol's voice was clear as day, startling Beth from her thoughts. 

“It’s Carol. Dr. Edwards doesn't know if you can hear us, but says we should talk to you anyway, just in case.” 

Beth furrowed her brow in confusion. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but she was more preoccupied with trying to figure out where Carol's voice was coming from. 

“I wanted to thank you for helping me when I first got here.”

That didn't make any sense, Beth thought. Carol just got here, just now. When could Beth have helped her? 

And then Beth thought, maybe that's where Daryl had gone. To get Carol and bring her back out here with them. But then where was Daryl? 

“Judith is growing like a weed,” Carol said, “you won't believe how big she's gotten.” 

If Carol had been with Judith, why would Daryl take her away from her? Or did that mean Judith was here too? 

“You might have some competition as her best friend when you see her again though. I'd never have guessed it, but it turns out Tyrese is great with her… I'm sure she misses your singing though. Tyrese isn't so great with the lullabies.” 

Beth was still trying to track Carol's voice. She sounded so close. 

“Anyway. I'm supposed to be resting too. Just wanted you to know I'm here.” 

Beth felt a pressure on her hand, but when she looked down there was nothing there. Beth looked up as the pressure dissipated, and then the shadow of the walker was gone.  

Beth was confused and frustrated now. She had the feeling like when you had something on the tip of your tongue, but just couldn't think of the word. Like she was missing one last piece of the puzzle. 

“Talk to her,” Carol's voice said again, this time sounding a little further away, though still distinguishable. 

When Carol's voice had sounded close, the walker – the shadow – had been right here. The shadow was gone, and now Carol sounded further away. Was that Carol's shadow? Not a walker's? 

Beth was afraid to get her hopes up. After all, if Carol was here, why wasn't she helping her? Why was she leaving? 

“Talk to her,” Carol repeated.

And then Beth heard a mumbled reply. Not muffled or garbled by the distance, but quiet and muttered because that's how the words had been spoken. Because that's how this voice always sounded when it was nervous or unsure. 

“It doesn't matter what you say,” Carol answered. “It's just good for her to hear your voice.” 

Another mumbled response. 

“You could read her the dictionary if we had one, Daryl. Just… say hello. Sit with her a while.”

Beth could see another shadow moving toward her now. These shadows… they weren't even a clear silhouette, just a vague shadowy blob, really. But there was something about how this shadow was moving… if Beth hadn't already been sure at the sound of that grumbling voice, she'd know by the way he moved. Daryl was here. 

There was so much she didn't understand about what was happening right now. About everything that happened since the moment she'd woken up in that clearing. She wanted to make sense of everything. But right now, she knew Daryl was here, right on the other side of this ridiculous plant that had knit itself together around her. And she just needed to find a way out. Right now. 

“Hey. Uh… It’s Daryl.” 

I know, thought Beth. Of course I know it's you.

Daryl's shadow moved, and for a second Beth thought he was leaving, but the shadow just moved into the corner of her vision. 

“I'm uh, just gonna sit here a while, if that's alright.” 

Daryl scoffed at himself. “Fuck, what am I saying. Not like you can answer.” 

Beth wondered at that. What did he mean she couldn't answer? Of course she could answer. It was just hard to get Daryl talking sometimes, so she didn't want to interrupt him now, that's all. 

“Guess I'm supposed to talk to ya or something… But the stuff I really ought to tell ya I should probably wait until l know you can hear me. Or stuff I wanna wait till you can answer… Like as soon as you're feeling up to it, you gotta tell me which one of these fuckers did this to you.” 

Beth felt something skim her cheek, tickling slightly. She raised a hand to brush whatever it was away, but there was nothing there.

Daryl was quiet again, but Beth could still see his shadow above her. She didn't understand why he wasn't doing anything to help her. If he knew she was in here, surely Daryl could cut through the branches and get her out of here. 

“Carol says I can just read to you, except there's nothing to read in here. Not like before, when there would've been a dozen different magazines lying around some place like this.” Daryl went on, “Guess I do have one book. Found it the other day when Carol and I were trying to get here and find you. Spent the night in some women's shelter, and the book was just lying there. Pretty heavy stuff though. Don't really wanna read it right now.”

Daryl lowered his voice, as though self conscious. “Some shit about dealing with childhood abuse or something… Figure I'm not always gonna have the option to burn some place down. Thought maybe there's something useful in there, if I ever get around to reading it.” 

“Anyway, not gonna read that right now,” Daryl continued. “And there's nothing else lying around, so I guess reading to you is out.”

That's good, Beth thought. She didn't want him to read to her, she wanted to get out of here. 

“Last time I visited somebody in the hospital was when Merle got in a car accident. Had some internal bleeding and a concussion and everything, but he still gave me shit about sitting there by his hospital bed all those hours. If I'd tried reading to him I would've never heard the end of it.

“I know he was a world class asshole, but I think you'd have liked him alright if you'd had the chance to get to know him better. He could be halfway decent to somebody once he warmed up to ‘em. And I think he liked ya well enough. Called ya a real spitfire after that stunt you pulled at the prison, firing your gun to get people’s attention. He liked your daddy a lot too, come to think of it. Not surprising really. You Greenes are pretty easy to like.”

Daryl paused again, and Beth thought he was probably trying to think of what to say next. 

“Listen, Beth,” he continued. 

She felt a pressure on her hand again, and she looked down. It felt strangely like someone holding her hand, but there was clearly nothing there. 

“I don't know what to say, but I'll keep talking as long as I have to, just so long as you wake up, alright? You gotta come back, Beth.”

She was still looking at her hand, confused both at Daryl's words and the strange sensation in her hand. 

“I still gotta answer your question from before. Gotta tell you why I changed my mind.”

Beth caught a glimpse of her knife beside her hand where she'd set it down earlier, and was immensely grateful that she hadn't done something stupid earlier. So many things didn't make sense right now. From the moment she'd woken up alone in that clearing, everything had been strange and disorienting.

“Although with everything that happened after that conversation, I'm starting to wonder again. If there are still good people left. So when you wake up you gotta tell me if you still think that alright? I might need a reminder sometimes. So you gotta be here to remind me, Beth.”

Daryl wasn't making any sense to Beth. Why did he think she was asleep? What did he change his mind about? Why wasn't he helping her get out of this ridiculous plant prison? 

She looked at her knife again, then up at the tightly woven branches above her. Despite the strange feeling in her hand, she picked up the knife without issue. And then, feeling stupid for not having thought to try it sooner, she reached out in front of her and began sawing at one of the branches. 

“Speaking of people, we met some new people. Guess I could tell ya about them,” Daryl's voice went on. 

Beth sawed through the first branch easily. They weren't even that thick, at least not individually. It's just that it wasn't as simple as just cutting the branch and pulling it away, as it was woven into other branches in both directions. She started sawing at another branch. 

“Hell, guess nobody's even told ya what happened to everybody else in our group. We found each other again. Or most of us did, anyway.” 

Beth kept sawing at the branch. 

“After the walkers overtook the funeral home, when I saw that car take you...”

Beth felt the pressure around her hand pulse, and she nearly fumbled the knife but quickly continued. 

“I ran after you,” Daryl said thickly.

Another pulsing sensation in her hand. 

“I ran all night, but eventually had to admit I had no idea which way the car had gone. Ran into a bunch of assholes. Actually, that's not a strong enough word for how awful these guys were, but I didn't know that at the time,” Daryl said. “I won't get into all that now, but I tagged along with that group for a couple of days until I caught up with Rick, Michonne, and Carl. Yeah, they're alive, Beth, you were right. They made it outta the prison and were just wandering around all that time just like we were.”

Beth had managed to cut a few sections of branches loose now, but still hadn't created any openings. 

“We ended up at a place called Terminus. Maggie and Glenn were there too, and Sasha and Bob, and some new people they'd met along the way. But we only found ‘em because the Terminus people locked us in a train car together. Turns out they were cannibals – the people at Terminus, not the new people with Maggie and them – actual fucking cannibals.”  

Beth was barely listening now, cutting and pulling at the branches with everything she had in her. 

“It was a close call. Too fucking close. But Carol was there somehow, outside the Terminus compound, and she managed to blow the place up so we could escape. Carol was with Tyrese and Judith. Guess she already told ya about that… Lil Asskicker’s doing real good though. I can tell she misses ya, but she's alright. She's tough.”

Beth pulled another piece of branch away, finally creating a small opening, just barely big enough to press her fingertips in and try to grip and pull on the section of branches. No luck. 

She opened her mouth to try to ask Daryl for help, but no sound came out. 

“Beth?” Daryl called out, sounding alarmed. 

She tried to answer him, but still couldn't speak. The pressure on her hand intensified, and she dropped her knife.

“Hey, hey,” Daryl said, his voice still sounding worried, but gentler now. Like he was talking to a wounded animal. “Don't try to talk, alright? Just open your eyes for me.” 

Beth didn't understand. Her eyes were already open. She reached for the knife she'd dropped, but it seemed as though it was dissolving and becoming part of the dirt beneath her. She didn't have time to try to make sense of that though, or to dig through the dirt for the missing knife. 

“Hey,” Daryl yelled. “Need some help in here!” 

Beth tried to pull the branches away with her hands, but found she could no longer lift her left hand. The strange pressure sensation really did feel like someone was holding her hand where it laid beside her. It felt so real that she couldn't help but look down at her hand to check, but it was just her hand. 

When she looked back up, she could no longer see the branches. Everything was just black. She could just barely make out Daryl's shadow, and she tried to call out to him again. 

“Hey, nuh-uh. No talking ‘til the doc gets that thing outta your throat. If you can hear me just open your eyes, alright?”

When did she close her eyes? Is that why everything was so dark all of the sudden? 

She heard another voice nearby but didn't pay it much attention. 

“Think she's waking up,” Daryl said. 

Beth's eyelids felt strangely heavy as she tried to open them. And when she did manage to open them with just the smallest slit, everything was so bright, she immediately squeezed them shut again. 

“Beth?” Daryl said. “There! See, she just opened her eyes.”

She tried again to open her eyes, blinking slowly.

Daryl was saying something again, and so was that other voice. But it was still so bright, and there was a beeping noise coming from somewhere, and it was all just so overwhelming. She closed her eyes again and tried to block everything out. 

When Beth woke again later, the room was dim, but the light streaming in from the hallway was enough for her to make out her surroundings. She was in a hospital room. She knew something must have gone wrong with the hostage exchange if she was still here at Grady, but she couldn't remember much. But she was also sure everything would be okay. Because there, in the chair beside her hospital bed, sat Daryl Dixon. And he was holding her hand.