Beyond Terminus (Book Two)

Chapter 31: Keep Believin'

"Shirewilt, Richmond. That's where we're gonna go," Rick says. "Beth wanted to get Noah there, get him back home. If it's still there, it'll be safe. We won't have to move for a bit."

Immediately, Daryl's eyes snap to me. We all know what he's thinking. The rest of the group; Michonne, Tyreese, Noah, and Glenn, all glance my way.

"And all of you are goin'?" Daryl asks, shifting his crossbow lightly on his shoulder. "Do you need us?"

"I'd prefer if you stayed here." Rick looks to me. "You need to rest. You've barely had any time to heal."

I cross my arms, nodding. Daryl smiles lightly and wraps an arm around my waist.

"A'ight. Stay safe." He looks to each and every one of them. "We don't need anyone else gettin' killed."

They all nod. He turns, steering me away. I follow, stifling a yawn.

"You should be going with them," I mumble.

"That would mean leavin' you behind," he replies. He looks down at me. "Or at least, that would mean you'd want to come with us."

I sigh, and he kisses my forehead. He knows exactly how I think.

"I've just...got a bad feeling about this whole thing," I say as we keep going. "What if it isn't even there anymore?"

"If it is, we'll have a place where you can prepare for havin' the baby."

"But if it isn't?"

"We'll keep goin'."

We reach the fire engine, where everyone is waiting around. We're going to be leaving as soon as the group gets back.

I feel exhausted. We have barely enough food or water, seeing as we haven't been able to go on any runs recently. Daryl notices my tired expression, picking me up and carrying me the rest of the way to a spot in the shade.

In our makeshift camp, everyone who isn't going on the run is spread out. Maggie and Sasha sit together near the white van we've been driving. Maggie's gaze remains vacant as she stares straight ahead. We all know she's still grieving, and that's completely normal. Carol waits near the driver side, holding a walkie talkie that she'll use to contact Rick. Carl sits with Judith, reading her a story while Tara and Rosita talk nearby. Abraham and Eugene are nowhere to be seen.

Daryl settles down next to me, laying down and shutting his eyes. For a fleeting moment, I can almost see the quarry campsite; feel the warm breeze, smell the fish, hear Dale talking to Andrea near the RV.

"You ok? You seem out of it," he comments.

"I'm more worried about you," I admit, laying down next to him.

We lie in silence, and he takes a shaky breath.

"I know she didn't mean it," he says after a long while. "But...I still wanted her dead."

His Dixon blue eyes find my simple brown ones, and the absolute pain inside them shatters my heart again and again. Beth and him grew close after the prison fell apart, I know that. I never asked how close, though.

Either way, I want nothing more than for him to be alright again.

"If I had the choice, I would've shot her down myself," I whisper.

"No, you wouldn't. You're too good." He shakes his head.

My mouth falls slightly open in shock. "What? Daryl, I-"

"How many people have you killed this entire time? One or two at Woodbury? You hit one guy at Terminus with your knife..." I look up at the treetops, taking in his words. He sighs, shutting his eyes. "You've never really killed someone. You've never looked them in the eyes as you pulled the trigger, or had to take down a loved one. More importantly..." He looks up through the trees, his face grieved and contemplative. "You've never wanted to kill someone so badly that you never hesitated to shoot 'em."

"How would you know? I've wanted people dead, but I never acted on it."

"I know because I've felt it. With Shane...with my dad...Even with someone like the Governor, there's a small part of you will always have wanted to believe that it could've been different. That we'd be able to give them a second chance."

I freeze. He isn't completely wrong. The naive part of myself always believes people can still be good. That's what made me grow close to Daryl; the belief that he wasn't just a redneck asshole. With the Governor, as he lay dying at my feet, I held the gun up. I held it up, and I just stared at him. My finger twitched on the trigger, but I didn't pull it. It's like I couldn't pull it. The woman showed up to finish it, Tara's sister, but if she hadn't...would I really have been able to kill him without feeling any remorse?

Again, Daryl is right. I've never killed someone without a single hesitation. It wasn't me who finished the Governor. The Marauders...that was all Rick and Michonne. I wasn't even around when the Termites were killed. Even with Licari...I only stood there and held the gun up instead of shooting and saving Daryl's life. Instead, I saved him by feigning innocence.

Innocence.

Even as far back as the problems with Shane, I never thought once about killing him in the way that he thought about killing Rick and I. Even with the anger I felt towards him, I never thought about raising my gun and imbedding a bullet in his brain.

"My point is," Daryl says, breaking me out of my thoughts. "You're still good, Hope. You're so, so good. But, the thin' is, good gets you killed." He reaches forwards, cupping my face in one of his hands. "You can fight walkers like nothin', but people..."

I shake my head and close my eyes. I'm not weak. I'm capable of many things.

His hand caresses my cheek, and I feel him move closer to me.

"You're the little bit of good left in this fucked up place. Hold onto it." He kisses my neck gently. "Don't say somethin' like you'd have shot Dawn down yourself. I wanna keep believin' that you're innocent."

"I just want to be strong...like you," I murmur.

"Nah. You don't want to be like me. If more people were like you, maybe we'd have our shit together and a whole lot of people would still be alive. Maybe if people thought more about others and less about themselves..." His eyes travel to the fire truck. No doubt he's thinking about Eugene. "...we'd actually be livin' instead of just survivin'." I snuggle closer to him, and he presses a soft kiss to my lips. "Sorry 'bout rantin'. I had a lot on my mind," he murmurs.

"That's what I'm here for," I reply.

We cuddle together in the shade, listening to Carol talk to Rick through the walkie talkie or the faint conversations all around us.

I don't know how long it is, but I find myself waking up beside Daryl to an urgent voice emitting from the device in Carol's hand.

"Tyreese has been bit. Keep Carl and Sasha away. They don't need to see this."