Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.

This is a mash up with ButterTARDIS36. It was her idea to write the one shot and thus, this short story was born. There are two versions of it. One in Beth's point of view, and one in Daryl's. This is my take on Daryl's.

Go check out ButterTARDIS36's take on Beth's POV.

I narrow my eyes as Beth releases the kid and turns her attention to the leader; Dawn. If we thought the tension was bad before, now it seemed so thick you could gag on it. Beth steps towards the woman and nods her head faintly. I want to pull her back and keep her moving—I want to get out of here and forget about this hospital.

It was like those stupid movies where the good guys save the girl. The princesses were trapped in a tower and, finally, we were there to save them. I furrow my brow and shake my head. I just want her and Carol back in safety—away from all the messed up things this world had to offer. What was she doing? She was free; we could leave.

"I get it now," Beth says quietly. I tilt my head with morbid interest just before I understand the intention of the statement. They were her final words… her winning words. They were the words that the good guy says to the villain.

It all happened so fast, kind of like when a mouse enters a trap for peanut butter. Beth was the mouse; Dawn was the trap. I feel my heart skip a beat as I watch Beth reach for the peanut butter.

She stabs something into the woman's shoulder—but it's when I hear the solid bang from a gun's chamber that my interest turns into a cold numbing paralysis.

There was a moment between when Beth's blood misted at Rick and when Dawn said she didn't mean it that I lost every ounce of my being. Everything I had been working towards—everything I had been hoping for; it was all gone. There was nothing left.

There was no starting over.

I lift my gun; my legs stepping forward warningly as I'm lifted from my body and watching the scene unfold below. My pistol hangs on Dawn as she looks back at me; her eyes are begging for mercy, but I feel none.

My finger pulls the trigger. She falls. I feel nothing—not even a shred of sympathy.

The eyes of the opposing party stare back at me with their weapons raised. I can hear Rick, Tyreese, Sasha—everyone lift their own guns, ready to go out guns a blazing.

"No, hold your fire!" I watch myself look to the woman we held as collateral. "It's over; it was just about her," she says as her head nudges towards Dawn's motionless body.

As the guns lower, so do I. I'm back in my body; colder than I've ever been. My chest constricts as I keep my gun aimed at the dead woman—Dawn. My throat burns as I fight to keep myself from looking down at Beth. I wasn't strong enough for this. I would never be strong enough for this. I sniffle hoping that is all this'll get out of me—but the sniffling does not stop.

A hand grabs my shoulder and I want to step away—I want to fight it, but I've been fighting for so long. I'm tired; I want this all to be over. As the hand tightens its grip on me, I realize who it is; Carol.

Before I can say anything—before I have a moment to process what just happened, I lower my pistol and whimper as if it is the only way I know how communicate. The reality was; I couldn't speak—I didn't know how to cope. I lower my head and close my eyes.

I'm melting. It's like I'm one of those toy soldiers being held over an open flame. The way the green plastic contorted and mutilated the figure—that was how I felt. That was what was happening to me from the inside out. It was like a sickness… an infection of grief.

Finally, I look down at Beth—but I don't mean to. My eyes see her soft face for a moment. She was like one of those princesses; so delicate, so peaceful and caring. Now she was cold and dead and broken… soon to be forgotten like everyone else in the past.

I wouldn't forget her. I hadn't forgotten about Sophia… Merle… I knew I wouldn't be forgetting Beth—not after what we had been through together.

I quickly dart my eyes towards her hands that lie sprawled out before her as if she were sleeping. Red slowly pools and trails towards her pale skin. She wasn't sleeping. There was no pretending. She wasn't a little princess that needed saving. Beth was a woman who didn't want others to suffer. That was her weakness… the death of her.

This was not how it was supposed to end.

Beth was supposed to live. She was supposed to have a happily ever after… not this.

Don't forget to check out ButterTARDIS36's. These were written together with the intention of them being enjoyed together as one rather than separate stories.

Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)

Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!

~MsBBSue