Author's Note: Hello everyone! I haven't written in ages, but I felt the need to after this past episode, the msf of season five of the walking dead. I will be taking a break from the show, simply because of the result. I'll be returning to the show when Negan and Lucille make their entrance. In the mean time I wanted to do this since I finished all my essays and I'm about to go on break for the holidays!

SPOILERS AHEAD. Do NOT read unless you've watched the season five mid finale! This is an A/U with what I would like for the second half of season 5b.

Warning: Rated M for language, gore

I am nothing now and it's been so long...Since I've heard the sound, the sound of my only hope

- 'My Heart' Paramore

It was only one second. Making out any distinction of figures and results of her actions would have no result. In that second, Dawn's body fell to the floor just as quick as she had responded to her actions. Rick had stood in complete shock, tears welling up and rolling down his face without even connecting his heart and brain together. How were they even working together anymore? He had been sure to sever that connection the day he watched Hershel Greene's neck become a fountain, pouring blood over the old man and his clothes. A white beard had gone red and he fell to the ground with a heavy thump, still twitching as his body reacted to the slow death. Like a lucid dream, he had witnessed history repeat itself.

There was no rhyme or reason to Beth's action. He wanted to scream. Pull his hair out and scream why. Rick was positive he could negotiate them out of this or kill them all. It would be one or the other, but as long as Carol and Beth were back, that was all that mattered.

Whatever he had jumbled to the police had been silenced as Daryl stumbled forward, away from Carol to look down at the sight before him. The cops watched on in absolute horror, unsure of how to process what had happened. Offer standing on the table, they remained still as Daryl's voice became the only noise in the building. Flashbacks began to spin around him, making him feel sick as each second passed. Merle's face haunted him, as it did in nightmares. Waking up in fits of cold sweats, his brother's blood covered mouth and sick eyes were the source of his fear. Because of Daryl's stubborn attitude to his brother, he had paid the price. Why his older brother had decided to act like the brother he waited decades for left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. Hands raised in the dead of the night, Daryl would recount numerous times where his blistered hands would continue to shake as he could swear he saw his brother's blood on them.

Now he watched blood leak to the white tiled floor, the hospital dead silent as everyone watched on. No one could move as his feet inched closer to her. A now rabid group stood before the cops, and they knew that versus a man that shot Dawn without a second thought, it would be a losing fight. From the distance they could feel the archer's anger well up and scream out in the jerk of the hand gun. Tears had begun to fall the second the shot rang out. How a man, who looked so ruthless and disgusting, could break in a split second was alarming to everyone around them. Rick looked on in shock as Daryl stared down, face welled up in sheer pain as sobs shook out of him. Dropping the weapon he stood there, still crying as he grit his teeth. Over the dirt and grime on his face, Daryl's tears ran down his face as his body began to tremble.

Seconds were all he had with Beth. He had one second to pull her away, one second to look back at her running to Noah, one second to watch her drop to the floor, and one second to pull the trigger. Watching her blood poor out seemed endless, as if it would never stop. Why wouldn't it stop?

Daryl could feel his jaw tightening as he continued to cry. If anyone would dare to step near him, he would pull the knife out and kill everyone that even looked at him funny.

"Beth." He whispered, fists clenched as his arms and legs shook in a broken mix of rage and desperation. Beth's body splayed on the ground, her dainty hand, one he held with such assurance and warmth, now lay cooling on an icy floor in her own blood. Blonde hair that he had swore shined in the candlelight was dirtied by the spill. Realizing she was wearing the same clothes that she had on that day only sent him into another fit of sobs. Nothing could stop the crying that overcome the hunter. His chest had began to twinge in heavy breathing, nose oozing and eyes glassy he looked nothing like the composed man he had been just a short bit before.
Vision blurred and legs weak he finally fell to the woman that had held his heart in those dainty hands. Head dropping as he moved closer to her, his exasperated breaths became loud, relentless sobs. "BETH!" Voice hoarse he toppled on to her and began to scream. It was all he could process at the moment, nothing else that tried to go through his head made any sense.

Carol's hands over her mouth she continued to cry, stilled by the sight before her. Rick continued to cry, pushing a hand back through his hair as he tried to process any thoughts that could be comprehensible. In the back of his head, the voice screamed for blood. The blood lust that had taken over him when he saw Hershel die, those fuckers that tried to hurt his son to, when they were captured by the termites, and when he finally got his hands on that fucking Gareth. It screeched for the vengeance that he so desperately ached for.
All Rick could actually do was watch Daryl reduce to a lost boy as he wrapped his arms around Beth's limp body. Her head dropped back, neck broken from the force of the shot as her eyes remained wide. Sasha screamed as she saw Beth's face when her head went back as far as the drop would take with gravity. Beautiful blue eyes, that cried for others, warmed for her family and shone hope had dulled to a foggy blue. Hazed over, her expression had been one between shock and anger.

Daryl's arms had wrapped all the way around her, lifting her up off the ground as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. If the blood touched him he didn't care. All he wanted to do was hold her. For so long he had waited for it, for the chance to be in her presence again. To wrap his fingers into her hand, to feel her wrap her arms around him and squeeze him. Left with a shell of what was once a burning, blinding light felt far heavier than ever before. He would take back his jokes of her being heavier than she looked if he could. Beth was small, fragile, his porcelain that could never be touched or dirtied by filthy hands.

What had only been minutes felt like hours as Rick slowly approached Daryl, a hand out and another one up. Rick hadn't been sure before, but he knew know. Daryl had been in love with the youngest Greene daughter. He didn't know how it happened, or when it happened, but the man he considered his brother had fallen for the young girl they all treasured. "Daryl..." He whispered, trying his best to make tangible words out of a pounding chest and dry throat. "Daryl we have to go."

Daryl's body stopped and his head turned up to see his best friend. Rick felt his knees buckle as the twos' eyes connected. Red and glassy, Daryl's crying would only continue as Rick's hand lowered slowly. "I want you to grab Beth..." Whispering to his friend, Rick paused for a second and dropped his hand back. "Daryl...we have to go." Stepping back he looked back to the cops standing in shock. Glaring at them he spoke sternly, swallowing the emotion that was simmering just a few minutes beforehand. "If none of y'all are going to be coming with us, stand down. NOW."

As the cops backed away they watched as Daryl kicked Dawn's body away from being anywhere near Beth's. Her corpse was absolute garbage to him, and he would burn it if he had the time to. Fuck just burning her corpse, he'd burn all the cops alive. Daryl would burn the building to the ground and set fire to everything that got into his way. But as he looked back at Beth he was reminded of another fire. The grouped flame over a stack of money they laughed at before he pitched it into the shack they were staying at. Expanding over the alcohol soaked house, the flames danced and soared through the building as it took over what was a symbol of his past. Goosebumps rose on his arm as he could remember Beth nudging him with one hand while her other was in the air, middle finger proudly raised. He could swear at that moment that Hershel would be watching, shouting that his little Bethy should never do something so dirty. If he had the heart, he could have laughed at it. But nothing was left except the shattered remains and memories of what he had cherished as a turning point in his life.

"Daryl." Rick whispered, watching as Daryl finally moved to Rick's command. The group watched as Daryl's arms pulled back from the embrace he had swallowed her in and moved underneath her to pick her up. While they had thought his legs wouldn't respond, he was able to stand up and adjust her to sit closer to him. Staring at the cops he stepped forward and glanced down at the corpse of the former leader and cop. One foot lifted he aimed and brought it down over the woman's jaw, making a powerful crunch that only produced more blood.

The sickening crunch made Carol feel sick as she watched Daryl turn and walk slowly, wanting everyone to walk in front of him. They proceeded down the silent hallway, all looking forward. No one could tolerate to look at Daryl right now, it was too much. Carol had made the mistake of glancing back at him, lost in the sight that would haunt her dreams. Daryl was at least five feet behind the group, dragging his feet on the ground as he seemingly stumbled over himself. Her head had been nestled against his collarbone as he leaned down over her. Daryl only wanted to keep her warm, to surround her with him after so long. Moving down the steps had made her head bounce a few times, only stopping to make sure she was just as where she was before. He wished she could feel his heartbeat. It felt like it was slowing by every step. If he could die right there, just holding her and see her waiting for him with his brother, he would be more than happy to leave this now empty world.

The walk to the outside was like walking to death row, and what was left of Daryl was thrashed to bits as he saw Maggie from the doorway. Tears welled in him again as sobs caught his breath. All he could do was make a whine as Maggie fell to the ground screaming. Maggie had watched her father be executed, Daryl couldn't get Beth screaming 'Daddy!' out of his head as Hershel fell to the ground and she brought up the machine gun he had given her. Daryl didn't want to put her down or hand her over to her sister. All he wanted to do was cradle her in his arms and keep her there.

He couldn't recall much of the departure as they fled Atlanta again. The first time he left without Merle, and at least then he knew Merle wasn't dead. This time he was leaving with a certainty he never wanted, and it only made him feel worse.

Pulling off to a quiet area some time later they had all left the vehicles to go mourn in their own ways. If anyone had said anything to him, Daryl didn't hear or care. Grabbing his crossbow he stormed off through the trees into the woods. The only distinct sound he could hear was the sound of Maggie's wailing off in the distance. As he aimed around he found his arms still trembling. Whether the trembling came from the weight of the girl or the weight on his mind, he didn't know. Dropping the crossbow he fell down and rested his hand over his face. Deja vu swept over him, the exhaustion and desperation that plagued him like a feverish rage. If he would have known this would come from him wanting to stay at the funeral home with her, to imagine a future that didn't involve pain and agony, he would have kept walking from the place...

No...it had to go farther back than that. He would never have carried her, he would have never helped her with her injury. He would have shrugged her off as she held his hand, and he would have never let her in. If she had never hugged him, destroying the wall he had set up for no one to enter, then he could have hated her. Hated her for her hope, her beliefs, her beautiful voice...her soft expressions...her acceptance of him and all he was.

Damn her.

Daryl continued to curse her as he doubled over, face in the dirt as tears rolled down over his face like constant waves. Tremors wrecked his body, unable to contain any fraction of what he had held back earlier. Bottling up the feelings he had before served a purpose then, but now it meant nothing. There was no reason to contain anything when there was no one to hide anything from. He had nothing left to shelter or give away. All that he had was blown away like a candle in a storm, the wick dampened and unable to light again. Smoke was the only thing that remained like distant memories hanging around him, mocking him for his pain and agony.

Wrenching his fingers into the dirt Daryl could feel the soil collecting underneath his fingernails before he gripped his fists. Knuckles cracking he slammed his head into the dirt again. Why he couldn't stop crying alluded him, as he had never felt so lost without any reason before. When Merle died he felt the world move around him, leaving him alone at a stand still. The group reached out and pulled him back to reality and he was able to move again.

But this was so different, so much worse. It felt like his heart had been ripped out and split open. His stomach was turning, breath short, and head pounding. Daryl could do nothing except what his impulses told him to do, they were all he had left.

The others had checked on him in an orderly fashion, making sure he was still audible and present. No one had dared to approach him, but the funeral couldn't begin without him. Maggie had composed herself to be present, but was shocked at the fact that Daryl hadn't shown up. Rick had gone off into the woods and found him just where he was before, face down in the dirt. But he was no longer crying, he was just simply sitting there, shaking as numb tears rolled over puffy eyes and red cheeks. Kneeling down he grabbed his friend's hand and helped him up. Rick had let him lean on him the walk back, too weak from the response his body had given to even function right. He had brought Daryl back to the group, who all had spoken things to him that he swore were in some tongues. Nothing anyone said mattered, as it all went over his head in whatever direction they cared to speak.

Father Gabriel's eulogy was just a mess of words that he had been pressured into saying, that was blatantly obvious. Daryl no longer cared what a fucked up man like him had to say, Beth didn't deserve to have such trash speaking about her. As the speech went on, Daryl could only look into the shallow ditch, where she lay wrapped in a blanket. This wasn't right at all. She didn't deserve a damn blanket. Beth deserved to be showered in flowers, and buried someplace that would only do a portion of justice to her beauty. This was bullshit, and Daryl knew it.

After the funeral had ended Daryl immediately separated from the group again and ventured off into the woods. While had been crying before, he was only left with an overwhelming numbness that felt so much worse. He didn't want to be numb. He wanted to feel her walk up behind him and hug him, just as she had done before. To be the calm in his storm and ease his pain. But that would never happen again. For as much as he would wish and hope, he would only be left with hallucinations in the day and nightmares in the night. Carrying that for the rest of his life only made the weight on his chest worse as he stopped and looked around. The dead silence wasn't what many would call calming, it was eery. Silence like this overwhelmed him, forcing him to find noise in his head to occupy what wasn't present.

'You're gonna miss me when I'm gone Daryl Dixon.'

'Stop it'

'You're gonna be the last one standing'

Covering his ears he forgot about his beloved crossbow as it fell to the ground with a loud thump. Pushing the palms of his hands into his ears he wished he could make his head pop, to stop all the thoughts, memories and pain that made him this way.

It was in that tried break of noise that a faint murmur began to move through him. It was faint, like a dying pulse, but still prevalant in the constant that was now overwhelming. Pushing up on his knees Daryl looked up into the evening sky. The sky was glowing a warm orange and pink as whisps of clouds danced through the sky. Otherwise it was clear, and soon the stars would shine. Daryl's eyes searched the sky for as long as his neck was fine before he was forced to look back down. The murmur grew louder and louder until it became the only thought he could process at the moment.

If Daryl could think rationally, then Beth would be there to help him do it. But she wasn't there and there was no reason have any rationality as he continued to walk, dragging his feet on the ground with each step. He was a fool for placing his hope in the fact that he could save her. Sophia died because he couldn't find her quick enough, he lost Merle because he couldn't save him, Andrea was lost, he couldn't protect Hershel...and now he an idiot?
Merle would say yes.

Even he knew he was an idiot.

But that no longer mattered.

His mind continued to belittle him and torture him for the emotions that welled, but his heart ached to quell the beast in him. What was left of his heart he didn't really know, as most of it was now buried in a shitty grave that didn't do the buried justice. All that remained in him was a shallow hole that kept him alive for no damn reason. Wiping his eyes with his forearm he turned back to the direction the group had remained at. There was no reason to go back really, but there was no where else he could go. Beth was now gone, and he had nothing in his pulse to live for. He was alone again. It wasn't like before, this was entirely different.

Maybe this was why Merle kept himself from falling in love with women, and was such an asshole. He braced himself from the world, and protected himself from anything that would dare reach him. But Merle still died for him...Merle loved him, his baby brother.

As a crisp wind blew through the woods Daryl could feel his hair surround his eyes like a barrier as he began to cry again, weak tears being the only bits left he could cry. When he would run out, he would be empty. There would be nothing left to cry over, nothing left to hurt his heart.

Deep in the depths of his mind, he knew that that was somewhat wrong. He cared for Rick, for Carol, for Carl and Michonne. If anything happened to them...god if anything happened. The mere idea flickering in his head only made his crying worse.

Like he had heard Daryl thoughts, Rick approached him with a heavy caution. The man's eyes seemed almost as red as Daryl's. "Daryl...we have to go." Hand extended he only meant to keep Daryl calm, and his crossbow lowered. When they had lost Merle in Atlanta, Rick could still vividly remember Daryl raising his crossbow to him, caught in the anger and despair that wrecked him. How long had it been since then? It had to be quite some time...it felt like a century to him. "Daryl."

If Rick could form any form of conversation, he would. But there was nothing he could say that would serve any purpose to either of them.

"I tried Rick." Daryl whispered, eyes still hidden underneath the mess of bangs he had grown out over time. "I wanted to save her Rick." Rick watched the man slowly unravel before him, the only man he could trust besides his brother. "I did all I could man. It wasn't enough...it's never enough."

Rick could only stand there as he continued, his voice hoarse but gaining volume as he continued. "I can't protect anyone. I lose everyone I...I..." Daryl finally looked up, revealing a tear streaked face that Rick had never seen before. "Rick I-I...I loved her man."

Dropping his weapon Rick only gave a short nod. "I know Daryl." He had never done this before, and seemed to hesitate for a second. Brining his arms up he wrapped them around Daryl's sides. For a second he felt Daryl flinch, hesitating at the actions. Welling up Daryl dropped his head to his friend's shoulder, shaking out sobs as Rick could only stand there and take the brunt of his brother's pain.

A heart can only endure so much and when loss occurs, holes form where those we have lost used to reside. There is no sure fire way to fill those holes, as they become permanent with reminders and memories of how happy we used to be when we were around those people. But when others find their way in, even through as many walls as you put up, they can nestle themselves in a space that doesn't take from any others and keeps you warm. The urge to protect those that make their way in become stronger. Sometimes those that become our world are taken, and the pain can be too much to bear. But others that hold you in high regards will protect you with all they have, because you hold a piece of their heart as well.

This heart, it beats, beats for only you...my heart is yours.

Ending Note: Thank you so much for reading~ I really do appreciate it! I felt the need to write this because of the fact that we will be going months without seeing any sort of closure from Daryl, who I feel will be undermined in this. We only saw a split second of the top of his head as he fell to Beth's side in the stand off and that was it. I also felt it was important to write something that covered Rick and Daryl's bond. I'm sure that in a dark place like where Daryl is at, where quite a few of us readers have been, we forget that people are there for us, and we at least have one person. If not, we can always make room for someone in our hearts. So thanks again for reading. I'll be taking a break from the walking dead, especially after Gimple's recent comments. Until I see Negan brought in, I have no reason to watch with Beth gone. I'll keep up on info regarding Carol, Rick, Carl, Michonne and Daryl but other than that I'm sort of too depressed to watch the show.