Two weeks. She counted two weeks in that cell. Two weeks where only one thing had occupied her mind. No, it wasn't "when are they going to bring me food?" or "why am I in here?"
The one thing dominating her thoughts: "I need to get to Daryl."
It echoed in her head constantly. She didn't get sleep, hardly ate and kept her occupied. Now, eventually she had to crack, and at two weeks, that happened. So, when they came to deliver her food, they were greeted with a wooden bedpost carved into a stake right between their eyes. They fought back, but she was running on instinct and adrenaline now, she was unstoppable. After two weeks, fearless Beth Greene ran through the woods, ignoring the gashes she was getting from various obstacles, outrunning walkers and repeating in her head, "I need to get to Daryl."
Now eventually, Beth's lack of sleep caught up with her and she decided she needed to stop for the night. She found a small ranch in the middle of the woods, a house just like the one she and Daryl burnt down. There was a strange sense of comfort within these walls as she set up noisy objects so she could hear if any walkers approached. When she settled down, she finally noticed a large, deep gash on the leg opposite of her sprained ankle, which was nearly fractured after all of that running. It was still bleeding. She found some cloths and attempted to bind it so the bleeding would let up. Soon, she passed out. If Daryl hadn't found her that night, she'd be dead.
"Beth?!" Daryl whispered in an urgent tone, recognizing her "walker alarm system" outside of the house. He silently opened the door, crossbow ready, only to see Beth bleeding out on the floor. "No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not how you're gonna die, Bethie." He whispered. He ran to the back of the house in the bathroom, relieved to find bandages, advil, washcloths and a small tub. He filled the tub with some water bottles he found. He knew that they could've drank them, but there were more and what was important to him right now is making sure that Beth's leg didn't get infected. He cleaned the wound and used the bandages to properly bind it. The bleeding soon let up, and he used more of the bandages and some wood to make a splint for her nearly fractured ankle. He then picked her up and laid her in the bed, holding her in his arms.
"Damnit, Beth." He said, holding back tears. He'd never felt like this before. He felt like he was on fire. He was a hunter, a tracker. Who knew that one little country girl could change his life forever? This girl that he was holding in his arms is the reason that he is was here, his anchor. Every shallow breath that escapes her lungs is why he hadn't given up. "Bethie, you gotta wake up. You gotta wake up for me." He kissed her forehead. Then, she slowly lifted her head and blinked. Looking up, she saw Daryl. She laced her fingers in his.
"You came back." She sighed with a smile.
"I love you."
"I love you too, I knew you'd find me." She smiled again, burying her head in his chest.
"Bethie, you need to rest."
"Sing to me?"
"Beth…" he protested.
"Please?" He grunted.
"…fine…" he hummed the first song that came to his head, and soon she was snoring lightly, and her rhythmic breathing was its own lullaby. Sure, they were in a shack in the middle of the woods at night during the apocalypse, but neither of them would trade that for anything in the world. They were completely at risk, but they were safe with each other.