Walking Dead Fanfic: "Romance in the Apocalypse"
Title: Romance in the Apocalypse
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Beth, Maggie, Daryl, Glenn
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1277
Summary: "The way you turned your nose up when Glenn kissed me." Maggie cocks her head, leans her hip on the table. "You have a problem with me and Glenn?"
Notes: Written for tamingthemuse for the prompt "relationships"
Romance in the Apocalypse
by Severina
They're doing it again.
Beth wrinkles her nose, turns away when Glenn leans against the staircase and nuzzles his nose against her sister's neck. She smoothes at a wrinkle in Judith's romper, tries to close her ears to the sound of Maggie practically giggling at whatever Glenn is doing with his tongue, right out in the open where anyone can see. She'd think they'd at least go to their cell with its illusion of privacy instead of just making out in the middle of the common room like a couple of teenagers.
Beth smiles absently down at the baby when Judith gurgles at her, then lifts her eyes to see if Maggie and Glenn's lascivious display is bothering anyone else. But the common room's empty save for herself and Daryl, and his head is bent over the scattered components of his crossbow spread out on one of the far tables, deep in concentration.
"All right," Glenn says from behind her, "I'm up for watch. See you later?"
"Later," Maggie agrees.
Beth rolls her eyes. Hopefully by the time 'later' rolls around, she'll be sound asleep in her own cot and won't have to listen to whatever they get up to when the lights are out. She lifts a hand to Glenn as he passes, concentrates on tucking Judith's blanket more firmly around her little body when Maggie stops at her table.
"Don't think I didn't see that," Maggie says in greeting.
Beth turns wide innocent eyes up to her sister. It's the same expression she uses when her dad suspects her of doing something she shouldn't have done, and nine times out of ten it works wonders. There are benefits to being blonde and blue-eyed and the youngest child, and she's not above working them. "What?"
"The way you turned your nose up when Glenn kissed me." Maggie cocks her head, leans her hip on the table. "You have a problem with me and Glenn?"
"What?" Beth asks, and this time there's no artifice in the question. "No! Glenn's nice. I like Glenn."
"Then what's the problem?" Maggie asks.
Now that Beth thinks on it, Maggie never did fall for the sweet and innocent routine. Beth's shoulders sag, and she turns her attention back to the baby, plucks at her stomach to make her wiggle and squirm. "Nothing," she says.
"Beth."
Beth sighs. "Sometimes it just… makes me sad. That's all."
"Me being happy makes you sad," Maggie repeats slowly. "Beth, that's messed up."
"That’s not what I mean! I'm happy that you're happy. It's just…"
"Just what? Tell me."
Maggie also never gives up, unlike her father who always seemed happy to drop things if she hemmed and hawed long enough. Patricia used to say that it was hard enough for men to understand their daughters, never mind the added difficulties of having kids so late in life. But Maggie's like the old coon dog they used to have, the one that tore the back yard to pieces; she just keeps digging until she gets what she wants.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever have another relationship," Beth finally murmurs.
"Another?"
Beth looks up sharply. "I had Jimmy."
"Well…yes," Maggie says, "but-"
"You don't know what he was like. You were away at college, you were never there! He was sweet to me. He brought me flowers once, white roses with baby's breath, just because I was upset that I didn't make the swim team. And he sat up with me all night the night mama got bit, holding my hand. He used to write me poems and stick them in my math book, and he rented a tuxedo for the homecoming dance, and-" Beth bites down on the rest of the words before they can spill out, bites down on sneaking out to the barn on a Saturday afternoon when their dad was off in the fields. She won't tell Maggie about how soft Jimmy's lips were, or how scratchy the hay felt against her bare skin, or how her breath caught in her throat when his hand cupped her breast. Those are her secrets, hers and Jimmy's, and she won't ever, ever tell.
She starts when Maggie's hand rests on her arm. "Beth, I'm sorry. You're right. But… you'll meet someone… there will be-"
Beth pulls her arm away. "Where?" she says. "And even if I did, do I even want to? Sneaking kisses in between shooting dead things in the face."
"We're doing the best we can," Maggie grits out.
"I know! That's the worst part! There's no more dances, no more walks in the park. There's no time to write poems because we're too busy trying to figure out how to stay alive. There's no more romance. There's just… cutting the finger off a walking corpse to get an engagement ring!"
"Beth!"
Beth pushes away from the table, suddenly aware that her eyes are brimming with tears. She blinks rapidly, because the last thing she wants is to cry in front of Maggie, her tough strong sister, the one who held up under the Governor's depredations, the one who rescued Daryl and his brother. They already think she's weak, keep her to the back when they're fighting walkers, assign her to baby duty instead of letting her take a watch like everyone else. She doesn't need to give Maggie - or anyone - any more ammunition against her.
"You need to watch Judith," she says when she's sure her voice isn't going to waver.
"Beth-"
"I'm going for a walk."
* * *
There are not exactly a lot of places to get away when you're stuck at a prison, but Beth does a few circuits of the fences, ignoring the walkers who snarl and strain to reach her through the wire. She sits for a while at the picnic table in the small concrete yard behind the cafeteria, her face upturned to the sun.
She thinks about those ink-stained pages stuffed into her math textbook, ridiculous rhymes that still made her smile. She remembers the sweet smell of the roses filling her room, and pressing one of the flowers into a notebook so she could keep it forever. She left the notebook behind when the farm got overrun. She left everything behind.
And there will never be another bunch of roses wrapped in a satin ribbon, never be another silly poem written just for her. There will just be hiding behind strong walls, keeping quiet, struggling to find enough food to feed everyone. There's no time for anything else.
Maybe Andrea was right, so long ago. Maybe this is just another pain that she has to make room for if she wants to keep on living this life.
When the sun starts to set Beth makes her way into the prison, deliberately avoids meeting Maggie's eyes as she walks through the common room. Her mind is whirling with thoughts as she heads to her cell, awash with plans. Starting tomorrow, she's going to demand to be given a watch assignment, even if she has to share it with someone else for a while. She's going to talk to Glenn about being included on supply runs, and ask Rick for extra gun training if Glenn thinks she's not good enough with a weapon. She's going to stop living in a dreamland, missing all the things from her past and wishing for things that will never happen. The world has changed and she needs to change with it.
She's so lost in thought that she's halfway into her cell before she sees the ragged bouquet of purple wildflowers on her pillow.
.
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Characters: Beth, Maggie, Daryl, Glenn
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1277
Summary: "The way you turned your nose up when Glenn kissed me." Maggie cocks her head, leans her hip on the table. "You have a problem with me and Glenn?"
Notes: Written for tamingthemuse for the prompt "relationships"
Romance in the Apocalypse
by Severina
They're doing it again.
Beth wrinkles her nose, turns away when Glenn leans against the staircase and nuzzles his nose against her sister's neck. She smoothes at a wrinkle in Judith's romper, tries to close her ears to the sound of Maggie practically giggling at whatever Glenn is doing with his tongue, right out in the open where anyone can see. She'd think they'd at least go to their cell with its illusion of privacy instead of just making out in the middle of the common room like a couple of teenagers.
Beth smiles absently down at the baby when Judith gurgles at her, then lifts her eyes to see if Maggie and Glenn's lascivious display is bothering anyone else. But the common room's empty save for herself and Daryl, and his head is bent over the scattered components of his crossbow spread out on one of the far tables, deep in concentration.
"All right," Glenn says from behind her, "I'm up for watch. See you later?"
"Later," Maggie agrees.
Beth rolls her eyes. Hopefully by the time 'later' rolls around, she'll be sound asleep in her own cot and won't have to listen to whatever they get up to when the lights are out. She lifts a hand to Glenn as he passes, concentrates on tucking Judith's blanket more firmly around her little body when Maggie stops at her table.
"Don't think I didn't see that," Maggie says in greeting.
Beth turns wide innocent eyes up to her sister. It's the same expression she uses when her dad suspects her of doing something she shouldn't have done, and nine times out of ten it works wonders. There are benefits to being blonde and blue-eyed and the youngest child, and she's not above working them. "What?"
"The way you turned your nose up when Glenn kissed me." Maggie cocks her head, leans her hip on the table. "You have a problem with me and Glenn?"
"What?" Beth asks, and this time there's no artifice in the question. "No! Glenn's nice. I like Glenn."
"Then what's the problem?" Maggie asks.
Now that Beth thinks on it, Maggie never did fall for the sweet and innocent routine. Beth's shoulders sag, and she turns her attention back to the baby, plucks at her stomach to make her wiggle and squirm. "Nothing," she says.
"Beth."
Beth sighs. "Sometimes it just… makes me sad. That's all."
"Me being happy makes you sad," Maggie repeats slowly. "Beth, that's messed up."
"That’s not what I mean! I'm happy that you're happy. It's just…"
"Just what? Tell me."
Maggie also never gives up, unlike her father who always seemed happy to drop things if she hemmed and hawed long enough. Patricia used to say that it was hard enough for men to understand their daughters, never mind the added difficulties of having kids so late in life. But Maggie's like the old coon dog they used to have, the one that tore the back yard to pieces; she just keeps digging until she gets what she wants.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever have another relationship," Beth finally murmurs.
"Another?"
Beth looks up sharply. "I had Jimmy."
"Well…yes," Maggie says, "but-"
"You don't know what he was like. You were away at college, you were never there! He was sweet to me. He brought me flowers once, white roses with baby's breath, just because I was upset that I didn't make the swim team. And he sat up with me all night the night mama got bit, holding my hand. He used to write me poems and stick them in my math book, and he rented a tuxedo for the homecoming dance, and-" Beth bites down on the rest of the words before they can spill out, bites down on sneaking out to the barn on a Saturday afternoon when their dad was off in the fields. She won't tell Maggie about how soft Jimmy's lips were, or how scratchy the hay felt against her bare skin, or how her breath caught in her throat when his hand cupped her breast. Those are her secrets, hers and Jimmy's, and she won't ever, ever tell.
She starts when Maggie's hand rests on her arm. "Beth, I'm sorry. You're right. But… you'll meet someone… there will be-"
Beth pulls her arm away. "Where?" she says. "And even if I did, do I even want to? Sneaking kisses in between shooting dead things in the face."
"We're doing the best we can," Maggie grits out.
"I know! That's the worst part! There's no more dances, no more walks in the park. There's no time to write poems because we're too busy trying to figure out how to stay alive. There's no more romance. There's just… cutting the finger off a walking corpse to get an engagement ring!"
"Beth!"
Beth pushes away from the table, suddenly aware that her eyes are brimming with tears. She blinks rapidly, because the last thing she wants is to cry in front of Maggie, her tough strong sister, the one who held up under the Governor's depredations, the one who rescued Daryl and his brother. They already think she's weak, keep her to the back when they're fighting walkers, assign her to baby duty instead of letting her take a watch like everyone else. She doesn't need to give Maggie - or anyone - any more ammunition against her.
"You need to watch Judith," she says when she's sure her voice isn't going to waver.
"Beth-"
"I'm going for a walk."
* * *
There are not exactly a lot of places to get away when you're stuck at a prison, but Beth does a few circuits of the fences, ignoring the walkers who snarl and strain to reach her through the wire. She sits for a while at the picnic table in the small concrete yard behind the cafeteria, her face upturned to the sun.
She thinks about those ink-stained pages stuffed into her math textbook, ridiculous rhymes that still made her smile. She remembers the sweet smell of the roses filling her room, and pressing one of the flowers into a notebook so she could keep it forever. She left the notebook behind when the farm got overrun. She left everything behind.
And there will never be another bunch of roses wrapped in a satin ribbon, never be another silly poem written just for her. There will just be hiding behind strong walls, keeping quiet, struggling to find enough food to feed everyone. There's no time for anything else.
Maybe Andrea was right, so long ago. Maybe this is just another pain that she has to make room for if she wants to keep on living this life.
When the sun starts to set Beth makes her way into the prison, deliberately avoids meeting Maggie's eyes as she walks through the common room. Her mind is whirling with thoughts as she heads to her cell, awash with plans. Starting tomorrow, she's going to demand to be given a watch assignment, even if she has to share it with someone else for a while. She's going to talk to Glenn about being included on supply runs, and ask Rick for extra gun training if Glenn thinks she's not good enough with a weapon. She's going to stop living in a dreamland, missing all the things from her past and wishing for things that will never happen. The world has changed and she needs to change with it.
She's so lost in thought that she's halfway into her cell before she sees the ragged bouquet of purple wildflowers on her pillow.
.