Be Good

Relief... 

Relief flooded me, brought a joyful smile to my lips. I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun, scrambling to my feet, steadying myself against a tree.

It was there... It was really there. The large body of water, tinted silver in the fading sunlight, gradually turning black and dusk approached. 

“Oh—” I gasped, moving forward, hardly a step, before it really sank in. We'd be okay... Daryl would be okay... I took off running, hurrying to the edge of the large pool, dropping down beside it, I wasted no time dunking in the water bottle, capping it and filling the other. I held it up in the light, surprised it was crystal clear. Still, what if it was infected with some kind of bacteria? Was that a risk I was willing to take?

I wasn't going to run all the way back to give Daryl tainted water that could kill him, or make him ill... My Daddy always taught me, that risking your life, is reason enough to save someone else's. To be selfless, do what needs doing, fix what needs fixing, do it for the greater good: to help someone else. 

Just thinking of Daddy formed determined tears in my eyes, I blinked them away and uncapped the first bottle taking a small, hesitant sip. The taste, fresh and cold, spread out across my tongue, instantly, I felt like I had more energy. I took another, slightly larger sip, and recapped the bottle, carefully putting it away in the canvas backpack, I rose to my feet, making a mental note of the lake's location, in case I had to come back, or lead Daryl here to gather additional water before we set out again. 

I set out for camp, jogging most of the way there. For the first time in days, I felt the excitement rising in my chest like a shaken soda bottle, hope. Hope burned in my veins, numbing the pain that vibrated up my heels every time my feet connected with the ground. 



I found it very hard to keep from screaming out his name when I broke through the last of the trees, quickly scanning the shadows of the meadow for him. There he still laid, sprawled out underneath the willow tree draped in kudzu. I dropped beside him and checked his vital signs.

Still alive... 

It'd been nearly an half hour, and I felt no effects from the water. I silently prayed that it wasn't just a delayed reaction, as I poured a small amount of water into a container and dabbed some of it on his face and chest. I already knew he'd be okay, but still... The thought of being alone terrified me. I continued dabbing.

Sometime after dark, I sat a few feet away from him, listening to the sounds of creatures in the night. An owl somewhere nearby, low squeaking and other faint noises I couldn't make out over the hum of crickets.

Daryl had not moved. He had not awaken. I sat with my arms crossed atop my knees, my nose pressed against them, patiently watching him under the silver glow of the full moon. I hadn't been brave enough to light a fire, afraid to attract unwanted attention and predators. I kept my gun close and loaded, and was electrically aware of where my knife was... In the grass beside me, shining dully like a dark voodoo charm. 

I closed my eyes for a few moments, just taking in the noises of the forest at night. I thought about the prison, what it must look like now. I thought about Maggie, I thought about Judith and Carl, I thought about the sick children and wondered again if they'd made it out. I frowned and thought about something else.

I thought about home... My real home. My bedroom with it's pale, antique wallpaper, the soft floral patterns adoring the quilt on the bed, the lampshades and the shower curtain in the bathroom. Even the small, ornate roses made of iron, painted a faded gold, that wrapped around the mirror frame. The mirror I had broken in a desperate attempt to get away... I'm glad now, even on this night, even after everything that happened, that I failed. That God did not choose my like I chose him. I did not manage to successfully force his hand. 

I'm still here...

I thought about that for a little while longer. Reminiscing how it felt to sleep in my comfy, queen sized bed in my own room, under the quilts and afghans that had been passed down for ages. I remember my mother bringing chicken soup when I was sick in bed, I remember her telling me stories late at night in the dark, singing me songs while I drifted off, watching the gentle flutter of the pale pink curtains around the window. 

“Bethy?”

“Hmm?” I hummed, half awake. She'd just finished humming The Parting Glass, and now we sat in absolute silence in my bedroom. Her in the rocking chair beneath the window, across the room. Me in my bed. 

Being impressionable at the age of nine, my mother was my idol, I loved her in every way possible. She told me stories, sang me songs, took care of me every single day... She was a great mother.

“It's okay...” she whispered sadly, looking out the window into the night.

“What is?” I wondered, sitting up in bed and watching her carefully. 

She pursed her lips thoughtfully for a few moments before she spoke again.

“It's okay to let go, Bethy. I'm here, Mommy loves you...”

I understood at once what she meant, and jerked awake. Out of the half-conscious mess I was in. I sat up a little straighter, noticing the pale orange light seeping through the trees, hinting at dawn. I watched it slink further across the ground while I contemplated my next moves. 

I looked over at Daryl every few minutes, different in sleep. He wasn't angry, wasn't frustrated. He was just him, just human for a little while. While anger and pain are apart of being human, something that shapes us the way we need to be in the end, they make us ultimately us. Ultimately alive.

I was tired, sleepy and emotionally drained. Everything from the past few days had been building up, and I wondered idly when it would end up being too much and I blow up in anger, pain and sorrow... I didn't want Daryl to have to see that half of me.

I looked out without seeing as the light brightened behind the trees. It's not something I have control over... Who gets hurt, where we are kicked from, but from the beginning I took it as my responsibility to try my damned hardest to keep it from happening. 

“Ugh...”

My gaze snapped to my left, Daryl's arm lifted a little and dropped by his side again.

"Goddamn..." he muttered in annoyance as he rolled over, gripping his head in one hand, pushing himself up with the other. 

"Hey, stay down, it'll pass." I assured him, moving to his side and holding his arm, guiding him back down into the matted grass. He groaned, but complied.

"'The hell happened?" he grunted, still struggling to get his bearings.  

I pressed my lips into a firm line to keep from smiling. "Your pigheadedness made you pass out." I say, smiling a little bit "Too much sun, stress and exhaustion does that to ya, though."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments. I expected him to mutter 'damn' like he always does, or something similar, but instead, he sighs. 

"I'm surprised I'm even alive right now... Guess I gotta hand'it to yer dad, you wouldn'tve had the first clue what to do without him."

I frowned and looked away, a burning feeling was flaring up in the bridge of my nose, the kind that hints that you're about to cry. I held my breath until it passed.

"What're you thinkin'?" Daryl asks quietly, breaking the silence. I hold my breath and look back at him. I could tell him everything... He'd probably understand it better than anyone else, anyways... The anger and pain of loss... Not just another broken home, more lost lives, but my entire extended family was out there, lost in these very woods. The woods that surrounded the prison for many years. The very prison we only lived in for a few months. Ups and downs, joys and sorrows, it had it all...

"Nothing." I sigh, putting up a smile. I feel slightly saddened that I decided not to confide in him. 

His lips twitch into a frown, but he doesn't push it. 

"Think I can get up yet?"

I put on a real smile this time. "We can sure try."

I kneel beside him and put my arm under his shoulders and pull up with him, while he muttered which direction to pull. Finally  he got his feet underneath himself, he leaned forward, planting his right hand on his knee as he got his balance. 

"Okay." he sighed, pushing himself away to lean against a tree, catching his breath. "I'm fine." he defended as though I'd make him sit down again. I nodded and watched him carefully. "Want some water?"

"What?! Where'd you get that?" he demanded, stepping closer, swaying a bit.

"I had to find water." I say with a small, determined nod. "I hiked into a valley a little south of here, found a lake around sunset."

The look he shot at me was remarkable. It looked flustered, proud, angry and just tired all in one. But not anywhere in those many emotions was happiness.

"You left camp?" he demanded. "On your own?! Do you know how dangerous it is out there?" his angry eyes were back, lighting up with twice as much fire than the previous day. 
"You could have been killed, how damn stupid are you?" he shouted in annoyance.

His words stung, like a lash of a whip, only the lash of his words hurt much more.

"I couldn't just sit around and wait for you to die!" I shouted back angrily, standing up to face him. He wouldn't talk down to me like I was a child, I could do this. I am strong, and I can survive. 

"Like hell!" he lashed again, raising his fist into the air and bringing it down by his side again. "I would'a been fine, and you fuckin' know it. You just wanted a damn excuse to prove yourself. Ain't got nuthin to prove now, just a dumn bitch that wants to get herself killed."

I stared into his dark eyes bravely, though every nerve in my body trembled and fought against me to wince away and cry. I clenched my teeth, grinding them together in irritation. He wasn't the slightest bit grateful. 

"You already said you were surprised you were alive." I muttered frostily, glaring deep into his eyes, trying to find something, anything to prove he wasn't the villain standing before me now, the asshole shouting at me now. 

"Yeah." he replied with a glare that made mine feel like a fleeting glance. "Surprised I wasn't torn apart by a damn herd of walkers in my sleep."

Anger flooded through me and froze in my veins. I felt the fire move into my hands, my fingers twitch, encouraging me to raise my hand and take a stand, defend myself from the angry, harsh words he had no trouble throwing at me. If it wasn't him on the receiving end, it was okay to treat me like complete shit. 

"Fine." I muttered, grabbing my gun and checking the magazine before shoving it back into the waistband of my jeans, turning to look around us in the woods, we were alone... The shadows deep in the trees had fallen silent. "We've got to get moving..."

He clenched his jaw, and nodded a fraction, anger still burning in his eyes.

"Lead the way, asshole." I muttered, gesturing for him to take the front.