Note: This is a first person pov, via Beth, after the entire prison riot with the Gov. Beth runs off with Daryl and this is the few spare moments that bring them closer together. It will move to a M rating eventually.

Disclaimer: i do not own any Walking Dead hoopla. Just love the characters.

"I just want to save you while there's still something left to save"

Savior - Rise Against

Chapter 1 - Run; Save Something

I used to run track back in high school. When I was fifteen I had completed the hundred-yard dash in record time. I used to be called "legs" before everything else associated with Beth Greene. It's funny how stupid your name can sound when you don't want to be referred by it. Everyone automatically assumes I'm Beth the weak, or Beth the scared…worse was when they referred to me as Beth the suicidal. It's not like I didn't earn that name. I had tried to kill myself so I didn't leave them much of a choice. Still, I didn't want to be the weak one, hell, when things started to get rough around here I was pretty sure I stepped up just as much as every one else. No one else wanted to take responsibility for the kids; I did that on my own.

So why was it that now, as I'm running a foot length behind Daryl, that I feel those insecurities mustering back up inside of me? Granted I haven't been on track for a while now, but even his long strides have me thinking that I'm doing something wrong and fully messing up again. It isn't fair.

"We gotta keep goin' Beth!" he yells, and then jabs his knife into a walker that's much too close for comfort.

By this point I want to die. I've watched my father's murder, watched my sister run in a different direction, but somehow I still run. It's all I have left in me.

The clearing that we come to is full of sticky branches, and I pull the twills out of my shirt while he checks the area. Oh yeah, like sticky branches are the real enemy. I want to tell him to move on faster, but I'm stuck inside my head of death and depression and all I can do is follow when he tells me to keep running.

Run.

Run.

Run.

It's all I can do without feeling like a total loss of life.

By the time the moon has risen overhead, and by the time he has finally run out of air, I slump over the nearest tree stump and throw up. This entire day of running makes me sick and honestly I'm not sure I can deal with much more.

As I bend over the stump of the tree I feel his hand on my back and I slink away. Hell no, I don't need comfort right now. I need, damn, I don't know what I need. Still, I feel more confident moving away and letting him rest against the tree adjacent to mine.

"We need ta keep goin'," he says, very casually, like my fathers death, or the prison wasn't even a blip in his damn radar.

I snort back a laugh and look at him for the first time, for real, the real first time…

As much as I want to yell I cant do it. It's like he hit the wall just as hard as I did. "to where?" I asked, liking my bottom lip, which will hopefully stop the pounding of my head.

"Dunno, we just gotta git somewhere safe." He muttered, his crossbow hanging over his back.

For once I agree, and when he started moving again I followed without making a fuss.

It was when we reached the cabin in the woods that I nearly lose my breath. An acre of land and yet no one there to welcome us when we knocked at the front door. My gut wanted someone to answer; all I needed was someone to answer. When five minutes passed, and Daryl was sure of the safety, we crept inside. I still wanted to wait for an answer.

Have you ever been alone? Really truly alone?

When the echo of the knock came back again I knew it was only truly us there. It scared me. I didn't want to be that alone. He shoved the door in regardless.

As soon as we stepped inside I felt my gut go numb and everything we had run from came pounding back into my skull like a damn steel drum.

I didn't know where Maggie was, couldn't call for my daddy….all I had was a half stranger to make me feel safe. All he was doing was checking the rooms for walkers, and even if that made me feel safe it also made me feel alone.

"Daryl?" I called out, hoping he heard me from the other room.

Silence met me, so did that feeling that made me want to run again.

"You ok?" I called, half wondering if I should just up and leave him in this place.

A crash had me stumble back into the couch.

"DARYL!" I yelled, my hand moving over my hair.

He appeared from the room without a scratch and I cursed myself for being so dumb.

"What the hell ya yellin' about?" he muttered, his crossbow still tight in his hands.

I wanted to say I was scared, honestly, Beth Greene was the epitome of scare, but at the same time I didn't want to be a needy child. I was sick of those assumptions.

"Ya gonna say somethin'? Ya don't have to worry really." He looked back over his shoulder.

Of course I worried all the time; he just didn't get the real worry that surrounded me.

I shook my head, " I lost Judy," I whispered it, not wanting to admit my stupid defeat.

To be honest, I never wanted to be a mother. When I was younger I had watched my own mother die before I had the chance to truly appreciate her. I tired so hard to make up for it, but when shit hit the ceremonial fan, I never got the chance to do so. A mother? No….

Carol kept telling me Judy would grow up to know me as he mom, and I always laughed.

I wasn't fit to be a mom, hell; I wasn't fit to be anything.

"We all lost her," he muttered, running his hand over his face again and then shifting his crossbow onto his shoulder.

"I'm gonna check this place out." He mumbled, nodding to the staircase, " you got yer gun?"

I slipped my hand into my back pocket and felt the icy metal against my skin, "Yeah," was all I could say.

He nodded, giving me a soft grin before slipping up the stairs and out of sight.

I kept myself at the bottom of the staircase just in case.

All the while I wanted to fall into a slumber and never wake up again.

I wiped my hands over my eyes, tears streaming despite my other arrangements. He told me to wait, and as much as I wanted to run I didn't.

"breathe…." I mumbled, taking two steps back and falling into the recliner that was set behind me.

When I fell into the chair the last thing I recalled was the feel of skin against the back of my knees; the other thing I recalled was the feel of cold against my face…the chill of the air…the gasping for life…

I punched upwards as soon as I emerged from water… arms around me… I felt something…

I just didn't know what.

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