AN: So... I couldn't stop thinking about the most recent episode (alone), and I wanted to develop something based off it. This takes off post "Alone" and taps into a few things I'm studying right now in University; Christian sexual ethics, humanity studies, and gender.

(edit) I may not be pairing Daryl and Beth. I did used to think their pairing was rather creepy... however, after seeing Coda and the episode prior/episodes following my opinion on the matter HAS changed. When I first began this story it was after Alone in season 4. During that time I thought of them as nothing more than platonic soul-mates. Let me know what you all think, and I'll see what is wanted by you, the readers, and then come to my own conclusions which will fit the plot. (end edit). I think they've got a bond, but as I've experienced in life you don't need there to be anything sexual between two beings for their to be a soul-mate type of bond going on.

The story will likely be M rated for violence, even if we all decide they should be paired - I won't be writing fluff or intense sexual scenes. Something I love about AMC and TWD is there isn't any of that really in it. They allude to sexual moments but rarely get too graphic. Nor will I. Due to my university studies and various things I've dealt with I'll build on true-life stories of hardship and human development in order to keep a realistic flow to the human experiences between the characters.

Beth has been taught to view the world in a sort of dualistic stoic approach; essentially this is what life throws at you, you take in stride and you bear it as "god" would want you to. I'm not a religious person AT ALL. But I am deriving her understanding from my RS studies at school. Daryl will be as in character as I hope I can write, he's obviously mysterious to us all so when he comes in next chapter let me know if you need to to change how I'm writing him.

I think that's all I need to say... so let's let Beth take the lead from here;

The preview song for this season "Bad Moon Rising" is sort of what helped me develop the title a bit and the thoughts of darkness that will end up playing around in our characters heads.

- Note: this will include other characters as I go. But it begins end of "Alone".

Chapter 1

Beth POV...

Daddy always said that life had some kind'a purpose, something meant to happen, you know? And our Pastor, Nelson, used to tell us all about we had to bear witness, with stoicism and strength. When life hit us down we had to realize there must'a been some good reason God dealt us that hand... so when all this bad started happening I believed, I believed that it was for some kind'a reason. Some sort'a test on our becoming of humanity.

Daddy told me to never give up hope in good people. That everyone had a way of bein' good, if they had the right faculties to their disposal. Sometimes, people get lost, sometimes they don't know right from wrong no more. But that's what Daddy said would happen, and he said it was up to us to make sure bad people don't do bad things. To make them better, if we can, to make them realize they ain't hurtin' no one but themselves.

Pastor Nelson used to preach real heavily on forgiveness, that it's our responsibility, as good Christians, to forgive those who wronged us. With enough forgiveness in the world we'd find hope, and any emptiness that had been caused, any harm unto us, would be null, and we'd be free again, and God would love us just that much more.

Maybe it's silly that I'd kept up that hope for so long. That I'd believed everyone could be good, and when the world went... when it went like this... that maybe not everyone was good, but, maybe they had once been, could again – and that there still then could be good people.

I think when I saw that blood spurt out of him, down his shoulder and chest, that I almost forgot everything he'd said. But then... in those last few days, I grappled with god, with askin' him why? Why he'd taken my Daddy, why he'd shown me as it happened. And I think what I knew then, is what Daddy said; everyone has a purpose. I guess he just had fulfilled his already. To make us all better, to save Carl, to make me stronger, and to help Rick with his demons, to save Glen when he'd been ill... and to help us all remember that if we're good, then so are others. He'd reminded me that above all hope is stronger than anythin' else.

I guess it's ironic... that my belief in what he'd told me became stronger once he was gone. But I have to believe there was a reason... that the Governor was once a good man gone wrong. No one becomes that wrong without first bein' good, and then losin' everything that matters, and all the hope that he thought the world had to offer. So I guess I forgive him... because this world made him into what he was, and I could see why... even if I never would like it, and even if it took what he lost from me. And so I can't hate him... not entirely anyways... that just wouldn't be right, in Daddies books.

And so when I lost all the things that mattered to me, when everything went to shit at the prison... when Daryl grabbed me out and we took off... I knew that we had two options; become what killed Daddy, or hold on to what he taught us was most important in this world. I guess I sort'a made it my mission to help Daryl see what I saw. He needed a friend... I'd always thought so... but I never thought that person would be me, I never thought we'd be one-another's hope.

It was pitch black as I ran from the house. I'd yelled "I won't leave you!" But I knew he'd not let me, and I had to trust that God would let him be okay, I had to hope that Daddy was lookin' over us both, takin' care of us then, like always.

"Get out," he'd called back to me, and my feet listened, though my heart sank with ieach step I took.

The damn place was boarded up everywhere! I waited till the sounds drowned in the basement before I grabbed one of the chairs sitting near the fireplace and smashed it against the boarded window. With enough force and a couple more 'thwacks' two boards gave loose. I'm thin enough that I fit through, thank goodness for our lack of food the past week or I'd have been stuck that much longer. I hoisted myself through, not really bothering to look on the other side. I needed to get out, like I'd been told. But I didn't hit ground right away, a warm hand encircled my sore ankle, and I twisted and kicked yelling out against its hold. My heart beat faster, pounding hard as my breath hitched and I squirmed against the walker. There was a momentary popping sound and then I was in the bushes, dirt and weeds. My Ankle had popped and twisted twice as bad as before, but it gave way and slipped from my boot.

I felt fingers brush my hair, the window was low hanging, and the walker who took my boot was half- out now, but I could only make out its arms and bloodied face, its teeth gritting as it tried to stretch further forwards. I duct closer to the ground, and crawled backwards out, on my bum, away from the house. Once out of reach I stumbled to my feet.

"Meet me at the road!"

I looked out through the graveyard, and the trees, there it was; the road. On a good leg the stretch would be easily crossed, easy to dodge the incoming walkers. But this wasn't a good leg, and I hobbled forward, lookin' almost like one of them. But they knew different. They reached for me as I trudged on by, as I grit my teeth in pain and determination; it would be fine, I told myself, as I shove one back with all my force, I lost my footing, and nearly went down with it, but stumbled back, catching on a tree as its head thump back against a gravestone.

I would wait, in the road, or just by it till I saw him. And... if he took too long, I had my bag, so I'd be able to set camp close to, and I'd find him come morning. My brow furrowed in pain and exhaustion, and I felt my heart flicker in worry as I thought of the dog... I glanced back, had it been got by them, was that why it'd barked? It's dying yelp?

I felt my foot touch the leaf littered pavement. And looked back in front of me. I stopped short. There was a car, it had a white cross painted on the back window... There was no car before...

Hope; we could escape, I stepped forward, and my ankle started to give out, my bag was still open and supplies tumbled out. I looked 'round quick. No walkers close, they're all back beyond the bushes and trees, in the yard, by the house... Daryl... My hand encircled the cold metal can. "You get here, you hear," I whispered, continuing to mumble; "I found us a way out," as I set the black bag down to toss the contents back in.

When I saw the dark shoes appear, and halt beside my right I smiled. "Knew you'd make it," I said, grinning softly. I glanced up, eyes wide with pride in my convictions. But my face fell, my hope plummeted and my heart stopped beatin' all together.

He stood over me, and just behind him was a one eyes growling white dog, flanking his side, teeth chattering, and dripping. The man was in dark pants, and a black shirt, a white pastor's collar peeking through the top. He held a boot in his hand. And he was covered from head to toe in the blackened blood of walkers. It hadn't been a walker on my heel at all... it'd been a man... a priest? The... had it been the owner of the house?

"Did you now?" His voice was like thick oil permeating over water, drownin' it under its weight. This was one of those... one of the good people who'd lost it all. The good people who'd forgotten how to hope. He raised a glinting silver gun and inclined his head. "Get up."

My breath hitched. "You – you were in the house?" I asked suddenly, in one breath, "You tried to grab me."

The dog snarled.

"Get up."

I went to toss the remaining supplies that'd spilt into the bag. He cocked the gun and I froze. "Up. Don't make me tell you again girl."

I rose slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements. I held my hands up, and chose to stare at my boot, in his right hand. He held the gun in his left. His hair was matted with blood and grime. Like the rest of him. "You took the bait Mouse, fell into the trap," he smirked slyly as he advanced forward, grabbing the knife Daryl had given me from my hands, and tossing it beside my black backpack. He dropped my boot too, the dog grabbed it, chomping down hard, I heard the wood of the cowboy boots soul snap.

With his now free hand the priest grabbed me by the chin, his overly long nails cutting into my throat and jaw line, blood trickled down. Before I could make myself move or speak, or even make a sound, he had me dragging by the neck behind him. He unlatched the trunk. My eyes were glancing around wildly, to the bushes, the trees, I caught sight of the house, the darkness and the remaining walkers... the stars... they were what I saw last.

Daryl, Daryl, damn-it where are you? I draw a sharp breath as he shoved me down and forwards, into the darkness of the car. He slammed the trunk down, it smashed into my bad ankle bouncing back open. I howled in pain, and drew the injured and barefoot to my person. The lid latched above me. And all light was lost.

I heard the front door open, and close softly. The scuffle of the dog in the back seat. The ignition turn on. There was a faint sound of running footsteps on pavement, just after the snapping of a branch. The car lurched forward, I rolled fast as the momentum thrust be painfully against the metal of the latched car. "Beth!" I heard him bellow, "Beth!"

" Daryl!" I yelped back as I felt us speeding off, away from him... but he'd made it... like he said he would... he'd held his promise, he'd made it to the road... I hadn't held up my half. I left him... I left him. "Daryl!" I cried, slamming my fists into the cold metal. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I so stupid Daryl," I whimpered, knowing he'd blame himself... just like he'd confessed the other night to blaming himself for the losses at the prison...

"There are good people," I muttered to myself. "Daddy, there are good people, right?"

In the darkness here, and nothing more, I clung to the hope that Daryl would remember me the way I remembered Daddy... that he'd see the reason I'd been there, that he'd understand... and while I hoped for that... I felt the sinking sensation as I tried to come to term with the turmoil God was puttin' me through. Tried to make sense of why I had to bear this burden that was becoming my future... for however long that would last. After all... I'd heard the stories about what'd happened to Maggie when she'd been in the Governor's clutches... and what that boy at the farm had done, why Daryl had beaten him... No one still good in this world grabs a girl and drives off, leaving her friend in the dust.

But I guess I'll just have to wait, to see what this plan is, and why I'm to endure it.

Let me know what you think, and I'm already working on the next chapter so when I get some feedback to help me along I will likely post it up soon.