Before You Go: Part 2 (Bethyl Fanfic)

Chapter 3

Daryl:

Beth shifted slightly in my lap as I stuck the needle into the palm of her hand for the fifth and final time. I was as gentle as I could be, but a cut like the one she had on her hand had ta' hurt like hell. She'd sliced right across her palm, the line endin' at the back of her hand, between her thumb and index finger in the web of her hand. Luckily, it wasn't too deep in most places other than the web, so five stitches took care of it. "All done. Just gotta wrap it." I fumbled for the roll of gauze in my pocket, shakin' from nerves and hurtin' her, but she knew it had ta' be done.  "Ya might not get full feeling' back in that. 'M pretty sure ya cut right through a tendon." She sighed and nodded, leanin' back against me and rest in her head on my shoulder. Walkers growled at us from far off as we sat on our ledge, quietly lookin' out. Before long she sighed as she stood up from my lap. I looked at her questioningly but she didn't answer, just walked over to the tent, disappeared inside, and reappeared a few seconds later with her knife. She wiped it off on the hem of her shirt and came back over, shovin' her good hand toward me. I took it and she pulled me up. 

"They're getting loud. We should take care of them before there are too many." I nodded and followed her up the steep incline from out ledge to the next level, one hand on her lower back for support. We weren't all that far up the mountain, but we were far enough that walkers could tell we were there and some of 'em would stand at the base, growlin' at us. We'd climb down to clear 'em out whenever they got to be in a group of ten or more. At this point there were about twenty at the base of the small mountain, waitin' for us. They lurched forward all at once when they saw/smelled us, lettin' louder, harsher growls escape from their rottin' throats. I started down the slope, grabbin' each small tree as I made my way slowly to the large boulder about half way down that I used as my vantage point. I'd found that a pellet gun worked to kill walkers if I placed the shot just right, so it'd hit 'em square in the eye or in an open area of their head if they were old and decayed enough. Plus it was quiet, so we could take out more, while drawin' in less. I'd found a couple in a house we'd raided on our way to the ledge, plannin' to test 'em out, and when I finally did test 'em, they worked like a charm. Another perk, the pellets came in tins of 250, and they were easy to find, thanks to the probability that not many people had thought of 'em as useful in a goddamn apocalypse. I settled in on the rock and took aim, puttin' down ten walkers easily as Beth took care of most of the others. I glanced up at Beth as she flashed me a thumbs-up. She'd been workin' on her shot and had become deadly accurate with most any type 'a gun. I smiled at her and stuffed my can of pellets back in my pocket before slingin' the gun over my back and pushin' off the rock to stand, but when I pushed down, the boulder shuddered and budged, makin' me freeze in place as I cursed.

"Daryl? What's wrong?" I stayed unmovin' as I answered her. 

"The rock's movin' it's gonna fall." Just as I said it, the rock budged again and gave away, plummetin' to the base of the mountain and landin' on the pile of bodies we'd just left. I jumped sideways, catchin' a small tree, which broke under my weight and dropped me. I landed hard at the bottom of the 25 foot drop, after crashin' into rocks and trees on my way down. My heart pounded in my ears, drownin' out Beth's panicked, ragged breathin' as she skidded down the slope in a zigzag while I tried to asses the damage. 

My sides hurt like hell and my head pounded. I'd undoubtedly broken more than a few ribs and I was seein' stars. I'd probably have been dead if it weren't for the thick pile of walkers to break my fall. I could hear bones cruchin' as Beth made her way across the pile of bodies to me. She made it about half way over before lettin' out a startled whimper and topplin' over backwards as a hand shot out of the heap of mangled arms and legs, grabbin' her ankle. 

Beth: 

Bodies shifted underneath me as I fell, allowing me to sink into the heap of them, closer to the lone (I hoped) living walker, that continued to pull at my leg and creep closer and closer to taking a chunk from my foot. Over the low growl I could hear Daryl grunting weakly as he tried to get to me. I managed to free the leg that the walker didn't have, and kick the walker in the face, knocking it from my other leg and giving me enough time to pull my knife and put the walker down. I wasted no time in fighting my way back to the top of the pile as I yelled up to Daryl. "I'm okay! Don't move!" I reached the top and found him still trying to crawl to me. "Daryl, stop! You need to keep still until I can see how bad you're hurt, and it's obviously pretty bad." He saw me and calmed down, staying still as I started to check him over to find all of his injuries. 

I started with his feet and legs, which seemed relatively okay, save for a few scratches. I moved to his torso next, and as I lifted his shirt he let out a pained cry and tensed up. I placed my hand on his forehead and brushed the hair out of his face, which was now covered in small beads of sweat. "I'm sorry."  I looked back down to his chest and sides, where massive bruises were already forming, and covered the majority of the right side of his ribcage and at least the bottom quarter of the left side. "Oh, Daryl. . . " He lifted his head barely and tried to crack a joke as I struggled to keep the tears from spilling over. His voice was hardly a whisper as he spoke. 

"That bad, huh?" I nodded and moved onto his head, eliciting yet another pained whimper as I looked at the back, which was bleeding, but not much. One of his eyes was beginning to swell, but the brunt of the injury was in his broken ribs, which blackened more by the minute. The next issue was how to move him back to camp. I turned my back to him and let the tears, that had been lying in wait since he fell, go. My shoulders shook as I sobbed as quietly as I could.

"What are we gonna do?" My words were broken as I said them between sobs, my shoulders shaking. Daryl made a sickly, painful grunting sound behind me, causing me to whirl around only to find him standing, bent over unnaturally, his knees shaking unsteadily. I jumped up, tripping over limbs to support him by carefully wrapping an arm around his waist and letting him rest his over my shoulder. I was careful not to press up against him too much as we made the slow journey back to the ledge. 

When we finally made it, I helped him ease to the ground on top of his sleeping bag. He grunted in pain and relief as he relaxed into the bag.  He drifted to sleep quickly, but it was fitful. He woke up several times each hour, moaning painfully and I swore I could hear my heart break every time. I sat up many times also during the night (though I wasn't sleeping) to check on him, and found him running what felt like a relatively high fever. Crap. I thought as I stood, searching around camp for anything to help him. 

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Sorry it took so long! I'm getting as many of my stories updated as I can while I have a three-day weekend so here you go! I love you guys! Thanks for reading! Until next chapter. . . 

~Kate