#twd beth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dominterlude · 4 months ago

Text

sunburn

pairing: beth greene x fem!reader

summary: the governor’s attack, the aftermath of terminus, eugene’s revelation, and a secret of your own — you’re running out of hope and the possibility of seeing beth again is the only thing keeping you going. until it isn’t.

cw: canonical character death, canon-typical gore/violence, angst, slight comfort, mention of self-harm and suicide. no use of y/n, lowercase intended.

word count: 3.2k

the hollow deception of eugene’s assurance had been unfairly ripped away as quick as the prison, faster than the feigned sanctuary of terminus.

the overcompensation for his lies — hidden in the form of a blunt “it’s classified” — that you’d all foolishly ignored in favour of an end to what had previously brought everyone together. that you ignored. you knew better. you were at the cdc and you’d seen the playback of ts-19, heard what jenner said about the future of civilisation.

this time you watched, haunted. the ghostly admittance ringing in your ears as abraham landed harsh, unrelenting blows to the scientist’s face. you flinched like you had when the gunshot killed jenner’s wife for a second time.

the confession that he didn’t have the answers, that he couldn’t help the world heal from a singular injury that had torn it apart, unable to prevent the fate that you’d all inevitably end up as a member of the herds you avoided and fought. it was all a ploy to ensure his own safety, and the realisation was growing louder with each punch.

although, gratitude was brimming at the fact that the redheaded man’s anger had taken the different, more explicit route. he had the strength to mould the mess he’d left on the side of the road that you weren’t sure you were capable of.

leaving you to scrutinise the aftermath of his fiery temper. beaten, bloodied and understood in a way that made you angry you weren’t the one responsible.

the man who was, drifting from the matted mullet and silently falling to his knees. tears of disbelief stinging his eyes and leaving a trail of mortification on the length of his cheeks. your anger replaced with something softer as the five of you stilled. rosita’s usual fluidity of comfort absent as she rooted herself to the cracks in the concrete. disappointment souring her pretty features.

glenn and maggie’s expressions twisted with regret, remorse that they’d abandoned a group they’d been with since the start for a promise they admittedly doubted, mirroring your own thoughts. regardless, you busied yourself with the flash of guilt that passed over tara’s face. misinterpretation nestled in the furrow of her brows, part of her lips and paling of her skin.

she resembled the dead that eugene had falsely sworn he could fix.

beth’s soft footsteps approached from the shadows of the group’s sanctuary for the last few weeks, her home, a stark contrast to the harsh flickers and cracks of the fire that burned too brightly. sickeningly similar to the colour of her hair — too bright — and the blood the shard of glass had left when they heard your cries. too bright.

she hesitated when she saw you sitting there, stopping on the blades of grass twisting under the heel of her boot, her silhouette painted amber as she just watched. pushing her nerves down, she took a deep breath and then the a step in front of the other. you felt her presence before the rustle of her clothes as she sat down beside you, a small huff at the hardness of the ground and a spike in your heart rate at the sudden proximity.

you couldn’t hide the surprise in your eyes as they flashed to her and then back to the fire, an unreadable expression on her face but an inability to hide her own uncertainty.

for a long moment, you both sat in silence, the only sound the persistent crackle of the fire. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, a tapestry of questions and answers that remained untouched. her gaze fell to your hands, folded neatly in your lap, the knuckles white from the tension you held within.

she reached out, gently placing her hand over yours, and you flinched at the contact. but then, you relaxed, your hand itching to turn and intertwine your fingers. you sighed, wishing that you’d had an inch of the confidence she felt to touch your scarred skin in the first place as her thumb moved back and forth.

the silence grew heavier, each moment thick with unspoken words. you felt your throat tighten, the words you’d rehearsed in your mind earlier feeling awkward and clumsy. the fire crackled on, as if urging you to speak, to break the tension that hung in the air like mist.

finally, beth spoke, her voice low and grateful. "thanks for that- helping, i-i mean," her eyes avoided yours, looking for the something that you couldn't offer. you took a deep breath, knowing that the conversation you'd been dreading was now unavoidable.

"it's nothing, beth," you replied, your voice choked and heavy with emotion. "i had to." she nodded, but the silence remained, a wall between you two that felt hopeless.

your hand slid away, leaving a coldness in its wake. she picked at the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit you had noticed over the weeks at the farm. the fabric whispered under her fingertips, and you wondered what she was thinking.

you cleared your throat, deciding it was time to bridge the gap you normally aimed for with other people. "why’d you do it?" you asked, doing nothing to ease the tension. beth looked up, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames.

"i had to," she echoed your earlier words. "andrea told me i had a choice and i made it." she paused, swallowing hard. "i-i was scared."

you studied her profile, the light playing across her features. "you were stupid."

beth flinched, then nodded. "probably," she murmured. "but i’ll be okay now, i’ll protect myself."

her words hung in the air, a declaration of resilience amidst the inferno inside of you. you felt the weight of her gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. instead, you focused on the flames, watching them devour the twigs and branches daryl had gathered earlier. the smell of burning wood suffocating, mingling with the faint scent of the peaches she was eating before she got the wound on her arm. it was a smell that brought comfort and warmth, but now it felt like a barrier, a reminder of what was left unsaid. of the state maggie found her in.

“go to bed, beth.”

your voice was firm. the guilt of letting lori leave beth alone with andrea was eating away at you. she was ready to argue but instead she nodded, standing up slowly. the fire cast a warm glow across the ground, but the shadows grew colder as she moved away from you.

"goodnight," she murmured, and the night grew darker. leaving you once again in the cocoon of your thoughts. the sound of her walking away from you was the only sound, a solitary witness to your failure fading into the dark.

you sat, the tortuous sound of the dead in the distance that was just a reminder of how you’d survived. how beth had survived.

you were going to see her again.

the firetruck lurched forward, the engine groaning as it navigated the desolate streets. the windows were cracked, allowing the cool evening air to whisper secrets of the outside world. you clutched the seat in front of you, heart pounding with melancholy and anticipation. it had been so long since you had seen her, felt her warmth beside you in the chaos.

abraham’s anger. tara’s guilt. maggie’s own excitement and the trickle of grief as she recounted the memory of her baby sister.

the faces of your family swam in and out of focus as the wheels rumbled along, each emotion etched into their features like the scars that lined their arms. they talked in hushed tones, sharing their own thoughts on what awaited at the hospital michonne had told them about. you nodded along, not really hearing the words, your mind racing with images of beth. telling you horrible jokes in an attempt to get you to laugh, the sound of her singing lullabies to judith, but you knew they were for the group too, the fiery determination in her eyes as you imagined her planning her escape.

the vehicle shuddered to a halt, jolting you back to reality. abraham called out, "grady’s up ahead. we’re gonna need to move fast and keep quiet. those things are attracted to noise like flies to shit sticks." his words snapped you out of your daze, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. the doors hissed open, and the group spilled out, weapons at the ready.

the memories of beth.

you picked up your knife, the blade smooth and comfortable in your grip. the sun blistering as you wiped beads of sweat off your forehead with your forearm, the rays making it difficult to see the rows of stumbling walkers lined up at the fence with outstretched arms and starving moans.

you lunged forward, blade glistening and finding its mark in one of their eye sockets, met with an overfamiliar squelch and splatter of red. it crumpled to the ground, movements ceasing and many following as the morning dragged on. a rhythm you knew too well to get distracted, a dance of life and death you’d been doing since the world had gone to hell.

which is why the sound of someone’s voice shouldn’t have went unnoticed.

“daryl said you haven’t ate.”

you jumped at the softness of her tone among the clang of the fence, beth had crept up behind you, her eyes fixed on the undead. her expression was calm, almost serene, as she held a plate of food — your eyebrows furrowing when you noticed judith wasn’t in her arms, but the smell of warm meat wafted over, making you forget about your concern for the toddler. your stomach growling loudly.

you took a step back, wiping your knife clean on your shirt. "yeah, been busy," you replied, trying to keep the exhaustion from showing. she looked at you with a knowing smile, the kind that said she saw through your facade.

beth stepped closer, her voice a gentle whisper over the undying symphony of groans. "daddy said you gotta keep your strength up. we can't have you collapsing out here." she offered the plate again, and this time you took it, the weight of it feeling surprisingly substantial in your hands.

you looked at her, then at the food, and finally back at the walkers. "wonder when it’s my turn," you said aloud, the statement hanging in the air like a lead balloon.

beth paused, the smile fading from her face. "what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, the smell of death mingling with the scent of cooked meat. "if i don't make it,” you shrugged. beth's eyes searched yours, a hint of worry creeping in. "lay me in the sun — when i die. make sure i’m lying in the sun.”

beth looked at you, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "that’s a weird thing to ask."

you gave a half-hearted chuckle. "i know, but it’s important.” you took a bite of the food, the flavor almost lost on you. you didn’t dare to elaborate on the morbid thought, but you knew beth understood. she’d seen enough death to recognize the peace in the simple things.

she didn't say anything at first, the silence stretching between you like the fence itself. finally, she nodded, her voice firm. "i promise."

you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but it was immediately replaced with a heavier one. you had always known this was a possibility, but saying it aloud made it real.

the two of you stood there, side by side, for a moment longer. the fence was a blur of movement as the walkers shuffled against it, their hunger never-ending. but you weren't thinking about them anymore. you were thinking about the promise you had just made.

"thanks, beth," you murmured, swallowing the bite. "it means a lot."

beth gave a small smile, then took the plate back from you. "you're going to make it," she said with a conviction that you couldn't quite mirror. "we all are."

you nodded, trying to believe her, and turned back to the fence, knife at the ready. the walkers didn't care about your fears or your promises. they just kept coming, like the endless tide of a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

as you stabbed another through the eye, you couldn't help but wonder if today was the day your luck would run out. you pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. but deep down, you knew that beth's promise was more than just words. it was a bond that went beyond friendship, a pact forged in the fires of a world gone mad.

and as the sun reached its peak and your arms grew sore, you realized that the fear of dying wasn't just about you anymore. it was about leaving someone behind to carry on, and hoping that when your time came, they'd do the same for you.

rick’s face was tense, the grip on his weapon tight.

daryl's steps were sorrowful, his mind elsewhere.

maggie dropped to her knees. an agonising scream ripped from her throat as she tried to claw at her chest, instead clutching the arms that glenn threw to catch her; falling with his wife with the last scraps of comfort he could offer.

the rest of the group stood still, the deepest reminder of their humanity was their grief and they were trying to find something shallow in this.

your heartbeat was the same, one you’d felt countless times before, but now it echoed differently. more pronounced, more solitary.

you advanced forward, bidding daryl to let you hold her. he obliged, reluctantly, supporting her limp neck as he passed her to your arms. once she was resting in your grip, he harshly rubbed his nose, turning away from the rest of you. the blood from her hair staining his bare arms.

your hands, though gentle, trembled slightly as you held her, and you could feel the sticky warmth of the her blood seeping through your fingers. you slowly collapsed with beth in your arms, holding her body even tighter and placing her forehead atop of your own.

"no, no. no, please," your voice quivered, your eyes brimming with tears.

the air grew thick with unspoken dread. the light from the burning sun cast long shadows across the concrete ground, as if trying to escape from the grim scene it had witnessed. daryl, his eyes reddened and jaw clenched, stepped back, his arms now at his sides, useless without the weight of her body to hold onto.

your tremors grew more pronounced, your breaths shallow and erratic. the soft whimpers that escaped your lips were like a mournful melody echoing in the silence of the abandoned streets. carefully, you cradled beth’s head, your fingertips brushing against the lifeless skin that had once been so full of warmth and vitality. the smell of burnt hair and metal filled your nose.

“you’re okay,” you sniffled, whispering to the unresponsive form in your arms.

the others hovered nearby, unsure of what to do. they had seen their share of horrors, shared them, but this was a different kind of pain. it was personal, a wound that bled into the very fabric of their makeshift family. they had lost many, but beth was a symbol of hope, a reminder that goodness still existed amidst the decay.

rick’s gaze was fixed on the two of you, his eyes reflecting the same mix of despair and anger that was no doubt etched on daryl’s face. he took a step forward, his hand outstretched as if to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew that words would fall short. instead, he focused on the practical.

"we can't stay here," he said firmly, his voice a stark contrast to the gentle whispers coming from you. "we need to move. we need to bury her.”

you blinked up at him, nodding slowly. you understood the urgency in his voice, the need to keep moving. you knew they couldn't stay here, but the thought of letting go of beth was unbearable.

with a deep, shuddering breath, you started to stand, cradling beth's body tightly against your chest. each movement sending a fresh wave of pain you her, but you pushed through it, your eyes never leaving the still form in your arms. your legs felt weak, like they might give out at any moment, but you willed them to hold steady.

you glanced at maggie, the lifeless body of her sister weighing heavily in your arms. maggie's eyes were wet, her face a mask of grief and disbelief. she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts.

"we have to honor her," maggie said, her voice thick with emotion. "we can't just leave her here."

rick nodded solemnly. "we don’t do that, maggie. we’ll find a safe place, somewhere quiet. we’ll do it right."

the group fell into a heavy march, carrying their grief with them like a shield. the sun beat down, unrelenting, as if the world itself didn't know or care that their hearts were breaking. they moved quickly yet carefully, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger that might seek to capitalize on their vulnerability.

you all found a clearing a short distance from the chaos, a small patch of earth that had somehow remained untouched by the decay that consumed the rest of the world. the grass was a vibrant green, and a few lonely trees stood sentinel, offering a modest amount of shade. it was here you decided to lay beth to rest.

the digging was hard work, each shovelful of dirt feeling like a piece of your soul being torn away. sweat mingled with tears as you worked together, the rhythmic thunk of metal against the ground creating a somber beat to match the pounding in your hearts. the silence between you was palpable, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle or choked-back sob.

as the grave grew deeper, so did the realization that this was real, that beth was truly gone. your eyes never left the lifeless form of her, your mind racing with memories, trying to cling to every moment you had shared. the sound of the shovels grew more muffled, as if the earth itself was weeping, absorbing the echoes of your sorrow.

the air was still, the only sound the crunch of gravel underfoot as the group approached the freshly dug grave and a part of you wished that you could swap places. that beth could’ve kept her promise.

your eyes searched the group, finally settling on rick. you took a deep breath, the weight of your request heavy on your chest. "rick, i need a gun," you said, your voice firm, yet tinged with the slightest quiver.

he parted his lips once the meaning behind your words became clear, but you held a hand up to stop him from speaking. "i'm not going to leave her here alone," you added, your voice growing stronger. "i was living for her, rick."

rick studied you for a moment, the lines on his face deepening with understanding, flashes of who you were when you’d met suppressing his judgement. he nodded slowly, reaching to his belt and unbuckling the holster. with a firm grip, he pulled out a pistol and offered it to you, handle first. his eyes bore into yours, a silent goodbye.

"keep it safe," he murmured, planting a gentle kiss to your hairline.

you took the gun from his hand, feeling its cold weight in your palm. the metal was slick with sweat, but you didn't let it slip. you had made your decision.

"thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

no more words were exchanged as he turned away from you. his steps were heavy as his figure blurred with the trees, the rest of the group ahead.

you took a deep breath. eyes shifting down to weapon in your hand, feeling the cold bite into your palm and the peeling redness on your nose.

the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow across the clearing, painting the world in a bittersweet light that seemed to mock the coldness in your heart. you closed your eyes, putting the gun where you needed it to go.

this time you didn’t flinch.

#the walking dead #beth greene x reader #beth greene #twd #rick grimes #daryl dixon #twd beth #sunburn #maggie greene #twd season 5

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