Beth Greene (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
a_littlefaith) wrote2015-10-30 01:10 pm
a_littlefaith) wrote2015-10-30 01:10 pm
Entry tags:
[october 31]
The last time things had been this hard, Beth had stolen a kitchen knife and taken it to her wrist.
She isn't going to do anything like that now, but when she thinks about everything that's happened over the past few weeks, that's the only thing she has to compare it to. The only time in her life when she remembers feeling even a fraction of the despondency she feels now. Right now, standing on this increasingly gloomy street in the midst of falling ash, Beth Greene has lost everyone she's ever loved. Her family, everyone in Georgia, then Michonne, then Rick and Carl and Judith, all at once, like somehow she should be able to handle that. Somehow she had, somehow she'd gone on, convinced herself that's what they would want her to do.
And then five days ago it had been Daryl.
She'd spent five shaky days with Kili, then told him she was going home to check on the cat only to find herself walking into this. Whatever this is. She's been here for a few hours now and it's been mostly quiet with the exception of a small swarm of overly large bugs that she'd dispatched without much of a fight at all. But now night is approaching and with it has come a sense of foreboding she can't quite explain.
She's alone. More alone than she's ever been.
She's tired, too, and her chest hurts from breathing in the ash, but she's still moving, keeping close to the buildings, trying to find somewhere safe to spend the night. The giant bugs aren't the worst of what's waiting for her out there, she knows that, and she coughs and wipes her face, leaving streaks of ash behind. And she keeps going.
[This is timed to before she finds Daryl. Her fear is versions of herself who succeeded in her suicide attempt and are now walkers.]
She isn't going to do anything like that now, but when she thinks about everything that's happened over the past few weeks, that's the only thing she has to compare it to. The only time in her life when she remembers feeling even a fraction of the despondency she feels now. Right now, standing on this increasingly gloomy street in the midst of falling ash, Beth Greene has lost everyone she's ever loved. Her family, everyone in Georgia, then Michonne, then Rick and Carl and Judith, all at once, like somehow she should be able to handle that. Somehow she had, somehow she'd gone on, convinced herself that's what they would want her to do.
And then five days ago it had been Daryl.
She'd spent five shaky days with Kili, then told him she was going home to check on the cat only to find herself walking into this. Whatever this is. She's been here for a few hours now and it's been mostly quiet with the exception of a small swarm of overly large bugs that she'd dispatched without much of a fight at all. But now night is approaching and with it has come a sense of foreboding she can't quite explain.
She's alone. More alone than she's ever been.
She's tired, too, and her chest hurts from breathing in the ash, but she's still moving, keeping close to the buildings, trying to find somewhere safe to spend the night. The giant bugs aren't the worst of what's waiting for her out there, she knows that, and she coughs and wipes her face, leaving streaks of ash behind. And she keeps going.
[This is timed to before she finds Daryl. Her fear is versions of herself who succeeded in her suicide attempt and are now walkers.]
no subject
Beth glances back when she hits the top of the fence, but Blue's not far behind and she waves her onward, climbing over the top without too much trouble and jumping down beside her.
"My friends stay on the first floor," she explains as they head down the rest of the alleyway, and she gestures. "The front of the building's guarded by these -- creepy, statue things in this version of Darrow. But they haven't hurt us coming in from the back."
She knocks a beat on the window by way of warning or hello, but she can't hear anyone inside and there's no immediate answer. Noah might not be back yet, and she frowns at the thought, but only briefly. Blue shoves at the window to get it open and glances back at Beth, assessing how she's doing. "Inside we've got food, supplies...I can vouch for everyone. I know it's a lot to take on faith, but it'll keep you safe for the night."
no subject
It isn't safe out here at night, but she can't just leave him. She can't not look. The chances of her staying all night are probably pretty slim, but she knows Blue is only trying to help her and she's incredibly grateful for it.
Climbing in through the window, she glances around and then breathes out slowly. "And nothin' gets in here?" she asks.
no subject
She'd hate if they were looking for her. "Nothing so far," she says. "We sort of keep watch anyway, take shifts so everyone gets some sleep. There's a bathroom, over here," she gestures down the hallway, "and there's room in the living room."
She gives Beth a little self-conscious smile. "It's not much, but it's better than having nowhere to go."
no subject
Then the nights after the prison, too, when it had just been the two of them taking shifts sleeping. Not that either of them had been able to sleep much those nights. They had been some of the worst nights of her life.
"It is," she agrees. "Thank you for bringin' me here."