The Wanderer (bethyl)

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

For quite a while, everyone still fussed over Beth like she was some helpless delicate flower. Lori was forever popping in and out of her room, fluffing her pillows or refilling her water glass. Carol offered her shy, supportive smiles and friendly pats on the back whenever they crossed paths. Her ex-boyfriend, Jimmy, would sometimes come drop off inane celebrity magazines that they had picked up on drugstore runs, and give her nervous lingering hugs that lasted just a few seconds beyond her comfort. Maggie never wanted to leave Beth's side, probably afraid that being alone for too long would cause Beth to fashion a noose out of her shoelaces.

She understood that their intentions were well-meaning, but all of the attention felt more smothering than comforting. She wanted them to stop looking at her like she was crazy, like she was a ticking time bomb that would off herself at any given moment. She felt compelled to fake a smile to appease them, to show them that she was okay, but she was still grieving. The pain was still there; she was just coping as best as she could, instead of committing suicide. For now, anyway.

Whenever she could sneak away, Beth took restless walks around the farm, and usually eventually ended up at her mother's grave. Sometimes she would sit and talk to her and Shawn. Sometimes she would leave little flowers and tiny trinkets. Sometimes she would pray, and sometimes she'd just kneel by it and weep for what felt like hours.

One day when holding her head in her hands and just saying a troubled mental prayer for her family, the sound of boots crunching through the dirt snuck up on her. She opened her eyes in surprise to see Daryl holding a white flower.

He gestured vaguely and mumbled, "Here to visit Sophia," seeming embarrassed about both walking up on Beth during a private moment, and being caught in the middle of such a vulnerable act. He placed the flower at the base of the wooden cross.

"Cherokee Rose," Beth noted. Daryl nodded distractedly. "That little girl..."

"Dunno why I cared so much. For someone I barely knew. Her daddy was a monster. And she was just this sweet innocent thing. Didn't deserve to live in this kind of world. But God, we all hoped like hell that we'd find her safe."

She didn't know what to say. She bowed her head respectfully. "I know you must've done your best."

There was a heavy pause. "Y'know," Daryl muttered quietly. "I lost my momma too."

Beth looked up, surprised. "What d'ya mean? After everything went down?"

"Hell no. Long, long before. When I was younger'n you. See... my momma had a habit of fallin' asleep in bed after one too many drinks, maybe a handful of pills, with a cigarette in hand. God knows she loved her smokes. She'd light up one right after another. Virginia Slims." He chuckled bitterly and shook his head. "I was forever pickin' up those damn butts. Anyway... I was usually the one to stop her, to put 'em out. One day some kids from down the road wanted to ride bikes with me. I didn't have too many friends so I said sure, why not. Went out riding for maybe half an hour or so, laughin' and shootin' the shit, but then a bunch of firetrucks and ambulances came screamin' past us down the road. And I wasn't laughin' anymore. We followed 'em, and sure enough, that was my trailer on fire. That was my momma they were wheelin' out in a body bag."

After a long, stunned silence, Beth could only shake her head. "My god, Daryl, I'm so sorry, I can't even imagine."

"Don't be," he insisted. "Like I said, it was a long time ago. I ain't lookin' for sympathy. Maybe it was better that it happened then anyway, so she didn't have to watch the world fall apart."

Beth nodded, remembering her own family huddled tearfully, inside the boarded-up house, watching the emergency broadcasts on the news in the early stages of the virus. "What about your daddy?"

Daryl stopped. His face darkened immediately, and Beth, knowing she had unintentionally struck a nerve, regretted her words. "Hopefully he died slowly and painfully, a long time ago," he said seriously. "May he rot in hell." He fidgeted uncomfortably and then hissed, "Gotta go" before abruptly walking away.

Beth watched him leave, his self-conscious, guarded gait quickly retreating back to his own tent. After absentmindedly touching a daisy chain she had left at her mother's grave a few days earlier, she closed her eyes again, and laced her fingers in prayer. The only thing that came to mind was how her heart hurt for Daryl, for herself, for that poor dead little girl, and her own family, and the Atlanta group, and everyone in the world. Things had to get better soon. They just had to.

Things were relatively quiet around the farm for a while. Daryl's group still kept their distance somewhat, and tried not to get too comfortable, because they knew at any time they could overstay their welcome and be asked to leave. But things felt a bit more normal. Everyone seemed to have their roles. Lori and Patricia spent a lot of time cleaning up things around the house or washing bloodstains out of the never-ending piles of laundry, and filled the house with the sounds of their laughter and hushed gossip. Hershel was warming up to Glenn, and he and Maggie became nearly inseparable.

Once it looked like she wasn't going to snap at any given moment, Beth's family began trusting her more and giving her responsibilities. She mainly took care of the chickens and horses. Sometimes Carol and Andrea helped her, and the three of them would talk as they worked, like equals and not adults talking to a naïve child. It was nice. She tried to help out as much as she could around the farm. Even though walkers still terrified her, she wanted to learn how to use weapons and carry her weight in protecting the group. Her father was wary about giving her a gun, for many reasons. She understood why, but couldn't help but feel weak and useless when she saw that everyone else, even the much-younger Carl Grimes, could handle firearms with ease.

Everyone pretended not to notice the mounting, dangerous tension between Rick and Shane - especially Lori, whose belly and guilt were both growing bigger. Then one night, there was a single gunshot in the middle of the forest, and the peace of the idyllic farm Beth had grown up on was shattered irreparably.