Posting this because it's a possibility that 's been playing in my head for awhile and despite knowing she's never coming back I am still Bethyl shipper and will always imagine scenarios that could possibly bring her back. If not whole, at least with her family. So bear with me here.


Chapter One

Blood is everywhere. Splattered across the ground. Pooling at their feet as it slides down whatever crevices it can find. Smeared across their fronts. Staining their shirts, matting in their hair. Negan straightens up, the smile on his face the biggest they yet to see and more blood pouring from his bat, Lucille.

It is all too much. To real for any of them to take in, and Daryl can only kneel there staring at what use to be his friend, a brother even, in this cold dark world. The day they first met and all the days since passing through his mind as nausea wells up in his stomach.

Maggie's sobbing can be heard not far from him and Rick's own sputtered curses falling from his lips as he fights against the restraints. Daryl wants to fight. He does. He just can't find it in him at the moment. The numbness that started out when Dwight took them hostage is slowly spreading to his heart, and he doesn't think he can come back from this. Doesn't see himself ever caring about anyone or anything ever again. Not like he did for Beth, or Glenn ,or even the small bit he held for Denise as she shouted in his face about needing to live their lives. What was the point of living when it would only be ripped from you in the end anyways? What was the fucking point?

Daryl's looks into the gaze of the man standing before him, his smile falling as he aims the bat at him. "Get the message?"

Daryl merely glares at him, his lips turning white from the amount of pressure he is putting on them. Doing his best to remain silent because anything he says now will only cause more damage. And really, haven't they lost enough?

When Negan moves along the group, resting on Rick, Daryl half expects the man to lunge at him. Instead, Negan moves on to Carl, the bat inches from his face, as he looks back at Rick. "Anymore objections?"

Rick stares at the bat, at the man holding the bat and then his son. One of the only things he has left in this world that means a lick to him and he nods. Head hanging in defeat and Daryl feels his own lungs collapse. The thought that Rick was giving in settling into his stomach and he merely looks at the ground. Once again wondering, what was the point?

The pool of blood fills his vision as he vaguely hears Negan say, "Load them up. Drop them off at the nearest town."

Great. Another hell hole.

Cause really that's all it is. Another place to exist, to survive. Like surviving meant anything anymore. He stands when a hand reaches out for his arm, snarling at the man that attempts to touch him and yanking himself away. The sound of laughter echoes in his ears and he glances up in time to see their leader say, "got some fighters in this group. Good. We're going to need them." The man chuckles some more as he looks at the lot of them. Amusement spread across his face;. Daryl's so focused on him that he flinches when a camera snaps mere inches from him. One of them taking a photo of Negan's latest kill and anger rises up in his gut again.

How dare they. How dare they think they can get away with dehumanizing his friend. With the last bit of strength he can muster, he lunges at the man. Sneering at him, and getting some satisfaction to see him flinch and take a step back before someone grabs his arm. The sore one. The one with a bullet still inside of it, and yanks him back. Causing a flash of pain to course through his body as it complies with their wishes. What else was he going to do? Scream? Rage? Fight them? Because that worked out so damn well for them.

Another wave of nausea hits him and he forces his vision away from his fallen brother only to land on his brother's wife. Widow. Whatever she is now. The pain in her eyes reflectes that from weeks ago when he carried her sister out of that damn hospital. A sharp reminder that the only thing that pulled her from that depression was the man now lying on the floor. A bloody pulp that wouldn't do any of them any good and judging from her pale complexion and the fact that she's out here to begin with, there is a good chance that she lost the only thing that tied her to the man. Their one and only hope left for a brighter future.

Daryl swallows. Bile now rising up in his throat as he is once again shoved into the back of a van with three other people. Who? He couldn't tell. Didn't really want to see who because it would mean facing them and right now he is just so damn numb. The car lurches forward, making him slam his shoulder to the metal siding and is surprised to find that that don't even hurt. Nothing hurts. It's just an empty expanse of nothing at the moment, but it will come. He is sure. When he is alone, and able to let it wash over him. He will feel it then. All of it. Even the past will come back to haunt him. Taunt him about his failures and he can almost hear his brother's laugh now. That mocking tone that told him Merle was right and him wrong.

Not now, Merle. Not yet.

The van jostles them about. Hitting potholes, and taking sharp turns without much thought to the passengers in the back seat until it screeches to a halt sometime later. The drive seeming longer then it should have been as the back doors are spread open and sunlight blinds them. Daryl squints, trying to block as much of it as possible before his eyes adjust and he notices the high wooden fence, with the clock tower just above it.

Hilltop.

Of course.

They brought them to the one place they promised to protect. To show them that there is no protection. That they all fall in the end. How fucking convenient.

Daryl moves forward, looking behind him to see Rick, Michonne, and Maggie crawling out of the van behind him. A second vehicle pulls up behind that one and Rosita, Aaron and Eugene climb out of the vehicle. All of them looking wrecked. Beyond anything that can be rescued and he sees it in the eyes of the people from Hilltop as they open their gates.

Gazes going over each of them in turn before resting on the Saviors that are getting back in their vehicles and driving off. Daryl notes, only after they've left, that there's still people missing. Carl, Sasha and Abraham. The three of them missing like a sore thumb, and Daryl looks to Rick. Noting the same realization coming across his face as their eyes meet. The fear palpable in all their eyes. Cause what else would the Saviors need to hold on to those three for except to hold them hostage. A way to ensure their obedience. Daryl's shoulders slump forward. Resignation seeping through his body once again as he looks towards the gates where Gregory is standing. Arms crossed and face sour while taking in those dropped at his gates.

For a moment, it doesn't look like he's going to let them in. Better to send them on their way and hope for the best. Daryl wouldn't blame him. They came in here with all the bravado of people who faced the odds before and survived. Now they look like beggars looking for their next meal. Praying that the man before them will show some mercy. Even just a little.

"Get inside," he says, motioning for them to head in. They do. Slowly. Barely standing. Daryl is shuffled off to the medical trailer with Maggie in tow. Neither of them speaking. Both of them having lost another brother, lover, friend. It seemed to surreal to even think that they're in the same position as they were when they found Alexandria, only reversed. He glances up at her. To see the dead look in her eyes, and he can't even manage an expression of his own to reassure her before the doctor in the area waves for her to come in first.

He sits on the steps, huddled in the blanket that was given to him when they were first taken. Nothing left to stop him from thinking, or feeling for that matter. Except the people, strangers, walking around him. Watching him. Waiting for the break down that's bound to happen. He won't let it happen though.

Not here.

Merle's still standing around, smiling that god awful smile, and asking "what's wrong, Darylina?"

Daryl ignores him, eyes glued to the ground as he hears mumbling from the inside and then the doc appears. A fore lorn look on his face as he looks at him. Daryl looks past him, to Maggie's resigned features as she shakes her head. A small tear escaping, and it's so fucked up that she can't even mourn the loss of her child because she's exhausted from mourning her husband. Two deep cuts in one day and he's sure that there's no coming back from this.

Not this. Definitely not this.

"Let's take a look at that shoulder," the man says, waving for him to come in. Daryl glares at him. Not wanting anyone touching him, and the man sighs. "It's going to get infected."

"Let it," he growls, turning to look away from the trailer. Hoping the wound does get infected and he get's sick and they would just put him out of his misery.

"Daryl," Maggie whispers. That broken tone in her voice making her sound almost like her sister, and Daryl closes his eyes. Letting out a deep shaking breath as he stands and turns to head inside. Not bothering to look at Maggie, cause while she's the polar opposite of her sister, he still sees little things that pair the two together. Like they have the same wide eyes, same shaped nose. Same determination in their stares, no matter the situation, and Daryl doesn't know if he can take comparing the two at the moment.

Not now.

The man makes quick work of his shoulder. Pulling the bullet out, and sewing it up in a matter of minutes. Daryl has to give the man some credit for his ease. When he hands a couple of white pills out for Daryl, he stares at them. Unsure if he wants to take them. Maybe if he sits here long enough without them the pain would seep in again and he can feel something besides this hollowness building up inside of him.

"They'll help you rest," the man says, ducking so that he can look Daryl in the eye. He meets the man's gaze. Notices the hint of concern in his eyes and decides the man is good enough. Enough to be trusted anyways as he grabs the pills and swallows them whole. Not bothering with anything to drink as he leans back in the seat. His head already rolling to the side as he forces his body to relax. Praying that the pills will be enough to knock him out completely. Keep him from seeing the images that are on replay in his mind. The sounds that make up a broken record in his ears sure aren't being drowned out by anything. He can still make out the sound of a bat meeting flesh. The slight groan and then the collapse as the sound of flesh ripping rings in his ears. It's not a sound he's ever going to get used to hearing. No matter how many times he sees it happening.

The blackness does eventually swallow him up. Sinking him into a sea of nothing and surprisingly it's not the events of the night that tear through his mind. It's her voice and her eyes peeking out through the darkness, saying, "wouldn't hurt you to have a little faith" and "you've got to stay who you are, not who you were" and all the beats in between the smiles and touches. All of them floating back to him for the hundredth time before tires squeal in the distance and a gunshot rings out in his dream and Daryl jumps up.

Confusion swimming through the blurred vision as the door swings open and Rick steps into the small camper. Moving toward Maggie first, whispering something to her before glancing over at Daryl with something akin to hesitancy. Like he almost fears saying something to him even though they haven't held anything back from each other before.

"What's up?" he asks, unsure if he wants to know. If Rick looks scared to tell him that means his reaction won't be all that great.

Rick gives him another long look, rubbing at the back of his neck before looking out the door and then back at Daryl. Maggie's sitting up now, her mouth gaping open as whatever it is that their staring at steps into the room. It's a small woman with blonde hair that's shaved on the sides, with longer strands pushed back. Covering what looks to be a still pink scar where the hair is shaved. Daryl blinks. Unable to believe the possibilities. The odds that another small blonde would have the same wounds as the one they left in Atlanta, and as she turns- more scars showing in stark contrast to her pale skin just below the wide blue eyes -Daryl knows the possibilities are not that endless.

It's her, standing before them. A slight, sad smile on her face as she meets Daryl's gaze and then Maggie's and says, "I'm sorry for your losses." her eyes travel down Maggie' stomach and then back to Daryl. "For both of you."

Her voice is calm. Even. Something that it shouldn't be upon finding your sister and family. She should be in hysteric's. From disbelief, grief or both, but she shouldn't be standing there calm. Like she's talking to a couple of strangers.

Daryl blinks again. The vision still before him and he moves to stand. A barely whispered, "Beth?" coming out as she looks at him. Head raising up in a defensive motion before coming back down and saying. "Melody. The name is Melody, and I'm here cause we have the your family and I'm more then willing to take you to them."