Prologue:

"Come on Beth, we have to go... we have to go." Daryl pulled on my arm harder, and I could barely feel it. I took in the scene around me, the destruction, the chaos, and the walkers. The fence was tilted over, allowing more of the outside walkers in, the tank was on fire, thanks to Daryl's bomb. I couldn't see much with the smoke in the air and I couldn't hear well from the hungry growls from the walkers. I stood there, lost and dazed. Everything we had, was gone. The makeshift "rooms", the food, the people. Gone...

"BETH!" Daryl yanked one last time. His persistence snapped me out of my little daydream. Pulling my knife out, we ran towards an opening in the fence line, leaving the life that we created behind us.

Chapter 1:

We ran, and ran, and ran. Every time I thought about stopping for a break, a hungry growl, or an impatient sigh from Daryl pushed me forward. We didn't stop, not until we were far enough from the prison. The blasts from the tank, gunshots, and screams were enough to make every walker from at least a 10 mile radius turn their heads and stumble over. I've never seen so many of the dead in one place. It reminds me of back before the world went to shit, back in the days of school and reality. I was sitting in my science class, the book open in front of me. I read some where that a shark could smell blood for miles. I imagined the noise was like the blood for the walkers.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we stopped running. We plopped down in an open field, gasping for breath. We laid there for hours, or at least I figured we did. We watched the sun slither across the sky, going down, down, down. Finally, it was Daryl who got up first. He hoisted himself from the ground, glances around the area, and then mutters, "We better go, sun is going down." He began walking away, and after a deep sigh, I got up and followed after him.

An hour or so later, we stumbled on a small group of houses. They were spaced farther apart, a nice backyard, and cheerful colors painted on them. It would be a pretty little sight, if it wasn't for the abandoned cars parked out front, the creepy silence that filled the air, and the scent of loneliness in the air. "We should stay here for a night or two." Daryl muttered again. Internally, I sighed. The muttering is going to have to stop. "Let's stay here, it doesn't look half bad." I picked a house that definitely did look a lot better than the rest. It was painted yellow, with a white trim, a green door, and rocking chairs on the porch. The grass was overgrown, but some wild flowers grew among it, making it slightly more cheerful. We approached the house slowly, Daryl aiming his crossbow straight and my knife pulled out. With a slight nod to my direction, Daryl quietly opened the door, and peered in. After a few moments he whispered, "Looks clear for now."

We walked in slowly, taking in our surroundings. The living room was to our right, with a comfy little fireplace against the wall. To our left, a small kitchen painted a bright yellow. My stomach growled in response, but I couldn't help myself just yet. First, we have to secure the place. Daryl walked up to the larger staircase placed in the middle of the house. I walked through the kitchen, every now and then checking a cabinet. I saw boxes and cans, which is a hopeful sign. I walked around the corner, expecting a walker to pop out at me. Instead, I see a dining room table, with empty dishes in certain spots. Nothing for me to worry about. I circled around, and I ended up back in the living room. Daryl calls, "All is good up here!" I breathed a sigh of relief.

I heard his boots stomping around up there, so I took the time to take in my surroundings. Walking in to the living room, I observed the knick knacks on the mantle above the fireplace. It was your typical stuff, small vacation mementos and family pictures. From what I could tell, it was a happy family that lived here. A mom, a dad, an older boy, and a younger girl. Another picture revealed that they had two dogs, one that look like a lab and another one who looked like a golden retriever. A sudden pang of sadness hit me in my chest. This was a family. A happy little family. I wondered where they were now. Did they leave in a rush, is that why everything is still here? Or did they ever make it home? Overcome by sudden grief, I sunk into a nearby chair and started to cry. It hit me that I haven't cried yet about my father's death. The memory replayed over and over in my mind. I gasped little sobs, trying to control myself. I couldn't help it though, it was all so much.

Because of my crying, I didn't hear Daryl come downstairs. He stopped awkwardly in front of me and gave a little cough. I looked up, surprised. "I'm... I'm sorry..." I choked out. "It's all hitting me, everything that happened..."

Daryl wouldn't look at me. From the way I could see it, he was fighting back tears too. "Yeah.. yeah..." he muttered. "Don't worry 'bout it. I ain't the one to judge." He stood there for a moment. "I'm gonna look in the kitchen, see what grub we can find to eat. Ok?" I sat there and nodded. "Hey Beth..." he carefully took several steps towards me. He placed his hand on my shoulder. "It will be alright. I think the other's escaped too, and there is a good enough chance that we'll find them." He took his hand off my shoulder, and quickly left the room. "Typical Daryl," I thought. "Shows the least bit of affection, and then runs away."

About thirty minutes later, Daryl brings bowls of soup to the living room. I searched around the house and found some candles, which was good, since it was dark outside now. I sat down on the sofa, while Daryl sat in the reclining chair.

"Soup, huh?" I inquired.

"Yeah, there was several cans up there. Figured that would be a good enough meal for the night." he answered.

"Well, I appreciate it. Feels nice to have something in my stomach again."

"Mmmmm," is all that he said back. We ate in silence for a while. I tried to entertain myself by looking around in the house, but soon staring at the walls was driving me nuts. When the silence became unbearable, I asked, "Why are you being so quiet, Daryl?"

Daryl was quiet for a minute. "Cause," he said simply. "Cause they're ain't nothing to talk about."

I snorted. "Oh really? Our life didn't just literally get blown apart by some physco in tank, and everybody we cared about is dead or possibly dead? I think that's enough to talk about!" I snapped. Daryl shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it," he retorted back.

"But why?!" Hysteria broke through my voice. I wanted to talk, I needed to talk. My dad was dead, my sister might be dead. The baby I took care of for so long might be dead or taken by some crazy person. All the people I grew to love and have friendships with are missing. "How could you not want to talk about it?" I asked.

"Because Beth!" His voice suddenly got very loud and very angry. "Because! I don't want to! I don't want to cry, I don't want to think. All I want is for you to shut up and for me to get shitface drunk again!" He slammed his bowl down, bits of leftover noodles shot everywhere. Picking up his crossbow, I could hear him mutter "Pissing me off..." as he stormed out of the room and up the stairs.

I sat in silence. I didn't expect such emotion come from him. Hell, that's probably the most emotion I've ever seen Daryl show at once. I didn't bother to think about his feelings either... He had just as many friends as I did at the prison, he lost important people too. I let out a frustrated sigh. Setting my bowl down, I followed him up the stairs. Looking to the left, I saw him in the younger boy's room. He was looking at some comics stacked in the corner of the room. I knocked tentatively on the opened door. He looked up for a second, saw me, and put the comic back on the stack. He sat up, probably intending on leaving the room, but I stood in his way.

"Listen to me Daryl, please." I begged him. He looked in my eyes for a moment, and then backed up a couple of steps, crossing his arms. "Look, I'm sorry. I guess I was so wrapped up in every bad thing that happened to me, I didn't realize that maybe you are having problems too. So yeah, I'm sorry." I ended awkwardly. Daryl looked at me for a moment, then dropped his arms. I saw this grown man break down in front of me, from being a Mr Macho to scared little boy. He broke into tears, which flowed freely down his face. "I'm sorry Beth, I can't help but to..." his voice trailed off.

"But?" I asked, sitting next to him. I put my hand on his arm, which surprisingly he didn't shrug away.

"I can't help but to feel like it's my fault!" he yelled out. "I could have found him, I could have ended all of this before it ever started. Michonne and I could have looked more, until we finally found the stupid bastard! I feel like the prison and everybody we lost was all my fault, and I just can't stand it." His tears flowed more freely now.

I was stunned. Stunned for a couple of reasons actually. One, I've never seen so much emotion from Daryl. Two, I couldn't believe that Daryl felt like it was his fault. "Oh Daryl, it's not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself." I laid my head on his shoulder. "Honestly, because of you, so many people were saved. So many people were fed, and protected. We are lucky to have you." I made it a point to say "we are" instead of "we were".

He sniffed a couple of times. "Thanks Beth... you are a good girl." he leaned over, and for a second, I didn't know what he was doing, so when I felt his warm lips on the top of my head, I froze. He kissed me gently and quickly. After, he got up and said, "You can have the master bedroom. I'll sleep downstairs on the couch." He smiled at me, then headed down the stairs.

I sat on the small bed for a minute, trying to absorb what just happened. When I couldn't make sense of it in my head, I got up and left the room, went across the hallway into the master bedroom and slightly closed the door. I searched the drawers mechanically until I found a clean, comfortable shirt to sleep in. Slipping out of my dirty clothes, I put the clean one on and sunk into the bed. It was only a few minutes before I slipped into unconsciousness, but before I did, I couldn't help but to think one last thought... "I wish he would come up here instead."