The sound of screeching tires had barely registered over the hammering of Daryl's heart, pumped full with fear and adrenaline.

Always having been a man of action, he had wasted no time before pushing forward and forcing his muscles to burn with exertion. He ran and ran, and ran. He ran until he couldn't run anymore, and then he sunk to his knees and wondered how he had let himself forget what being alone felt like.

In 37 years, Daryl Dixon had never felt as alone as he did, breathing like thunder in the middle of that dirt road. Everything after that had happened in slow motion, blurring together in the worst way. It had been easy for Daryl to follow Joe's group. With the practiced patience of years spent in Meryl's shadow he had sunken into their black and white structure almost seamlessly. Still, he could never quite get rid of that soft voice inside of his head telling him he was better, he was good. He tried to ignore it because she was gone. She was gone and he wasn't better or good, or anything.

It was probably poetic that when he'd found Rick it had been on the side of the road, next to a beat up old truck. Cars and trucks meant movement and movement meant life. It also meant distance and distance was what pulled at Daryl's insides every moment since he'd watched her disappear. Maybe finding Rick next to that truck had been more ironic than poetic. But everything that had happened after was hard and wrong. The burning pit that had been growing in his gut had erupted the second he'd heard Rick's voice, seen him rip out a man's throat with his bare teeth.

The voice had been right. He was better than those men. He still wasn't convinced that he was good, not without her, but he was better.

Sitting next to Rick and staring at the smudges of blood melting into his skin had been sobering. It had brought him back to earth and out of the reverie he'd been living in. He had felt in his bones that Terminus was a bad idea, the same way he felt that tug to track and find, and hold. But he was too scared to hope for anything more and too tired to be alone again. So he had followed Rick, in a way that was more comfortable than following Joe or even Meryl, and he'd made his way to Terminus.

His instincts had been right but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry when Glenn and Maggie had stepped out from the shadows of the boxcar. Beth had been right about the others surviving. She had been right to hope.

Her absence felt loud and full. But the gaping hole she'd left in his chest began to fill with something else. He was hesitant to call it hope because that notion had never gotten him very far. It was more like sureness, the feeling that she was still out there waiting for him. Good people didn't survive anymore but maybe people like Beth did, people who were more than good.

"Does anyone know what happened to Beth? After the prison…" It had been pitch black and nearly silent when Maggie had finally asked the question Daryl had been dreading.

Rick looked right at him but aside from a few whispered apologies and shrugs, no one said a word. He felt something strange tear at his throat, a sound or a feeling trying to get out. But he swallowed it and looked down at his feet.

"I looked for her on the bus but it was so hard to tell, I don't know. She probably- she wasn't meant for this," she'd stuttered quietly.

It might have been her gentle dismissal that ripped the words from his throat, or maybe everyone's easy acceptance. But before he knew what was happening he was filling up the boxcar with her name and their story. "She was with me. After the prison fell, Beth got out with me."

Her absence spoke louder than ever after his admission and Maggie's sharp gasp was the only sound heard for several moments.

"What happened to her?" Glenn finally asked covering Maggie's quiet sniffling with his question.

"Car took'er. Just… took her," he'd said numbly.

Maggie had yelled after that. She'd cried and hit his chest until Glenn had pulled her away. Daryl couldn't hear her words, blood rushing through his ears in waves, but he knew what she was saying. He'd said the same things and hated himself in the same way.

"Do you think she's dead?" Maggie asked hours later.

"Might not be," he muttered, refusing to make eye contact. She'd sat herself beside him then, knees drawn up and chin quivering.

She was direct in a way that made Daryl uncomfortable. Her father had been the same way, straight forward not just with words but with feelings and intentions. Beth was more subtle about things. She let people see what she wanted them to see and kept the rest for herself. But when it counted, when it mattered she'd say her piece clear enough to make you wonder how you could have missed it. It was all right there in her eyes, in the way she set her mouth and held her shoulders. So raw you had to look away.

"She, was she okay? After the prison…" she swallowed.

Daryl nodded abruptly. He could feel her gaze burning against the side of his head and he looked down at the broken skin of his knuckles. "She was Beth," he rasped.

Maggie snorted, covering her mouth with a hand and choking on laughter and dry sobs. "She musta drove you crazy huh?" She breathed raggedly.

He chanced a look in her direction and she caught his gaze, the saddest smile he'd ever seen stretched across her face. "Probably kept me sane," he admitted quietly.

"Yeah?"

He nodded a bit and shrugged his shoulders. "We get out of here, maybe look for her a while, maybe she's…"

"You'd do that?" Maggie asked, eyes widening a bit in surprise. He felt his throat close up, full with things he'd never said. Instead he shrugged again and looked away.

They spent nearly 48 hours in the boxcar, hating each other in complicated ways but hating the people outside more. Rick had been determined and ready, talking through different plans and looking at the door with fire in his eyes. He'd turned those same eyes towards Daryl more than once saying things like, "It aint your fault" and "I need you with me." It hadn't helped much but at least it was something.

Getting out of Terminus had been Daryl's favorite kind of mess. It was bloody and chaotic in a way his whole life had readied him for. Carol and Tyreese had integrated into the society, too smart to challenge the rules with a baby by their side. They had figured out what was going on in the boxcars and Tyreese managed to sneak out several members of the group while Carol did her best to protect Judith. By the time the guards noticed what was going on Daryl was armed with a semi-automatic. He wasn't much for guns but they made one hell of a statement.

When all was said and done, they'd fought their way out of Terminus tooth and nail. It hadn't been easy or pretty, and it couldn't really be called a win. Bob took a round to his chest, a choked curse falling from his lips before Sasha put a bullet in his head. She didn't falter or pause, not until they were three miles into the woods and her body collapsed against a tree with silent sobs.

Glenn had taken a bullet to the side and Maggie had screamed so loud she'd drowned out all seven shots she'd fired into the offenders face. Abraham had launched Glenn over his shoulders like a baby deer, blood dripping down his massive arms as Rosetta carved a hole in the fence for them to slip through. In the thick of the woods Carol looked over Glenn's wound, deeming it a near miracle that no vital organs seemed to have been hit. The biggest worry was the bleeding, but after setting up parameters and selfishly cursing Bob's absence, they'd slowed the bleeding enough to take a breath.

They moved carefully for the next two days. It was too slow for Daryl's liking but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open. On the third day, Carol had gone with him to scout the dirt road just through the thinnest part of the woods. That was the day he finally saw what he hadn't even known he'd been looking for.

It was the car again.

It wasn't actually the same car but it had the same cross in the back window, pulling the breath out of him and launching him forward like a bullet.

"Daryl! Daryl wait!" Carol called.

Her words got lost in the screech of tires and the scrape of his feet against the dirt. Panic welled in him at the site of the car disappearing. Before he could think twice he was pulling a pistol from his belt and firing it at the car's tires. The bullet missed the tire by a few centimeters, but the sound startled the driver into swerving sharply. The car stalled as it hit a shallow ditch and Daryl used the opportunity to quicken his pace and catch up with the vehicle. He could see the driver frantically hitting the gas and switching gears in an attempt to get out of the ditch. Sprinting around the car, Daryl caught sight of a dark skinned man in his late thirties, with a priest collar adorning his shirt. Stepping in front of the car, he pocketed his gun and aimed his bow right at the man's skull.

"Out," he ordered. The man raised his hands carefully, muttering some kind of plea or explanation. Daryl didn't know and didn't care, because the second the man stepped out of the car he had him pinned against the door with an ugly slam.

Dropping his bow, he used both hands to clench the man's shirt and slam him into the door again and again. Shaking with a rage he couldn't name, he leaned in close and looked the man right in the eyes.

"Where is she?" Daryl's words came out quiet and hurried. The pressure in his chest made him feel like he should have been yelling but his lungs wouldn't cooperate enough to let him scream the way he wanted to.

"I don't know who- where is who?" the man stuttered nervously. His brown eyes were wide with fear as he hunched into himself as much as he could.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty..." he huffed, slamming the man against the car again. "Where is she," he gritted.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know," he repeated. He squeezed his eyes shut, flinching like he was going to be hit again. Daryl sneered at the action, feeling the rage bubble inside of him.

"You kidnap girls often? Can't even keep em' straight no more?" he spat, shifting his forearm to rest against the man's throat and block his airway.

"No! No," he wheezed.

"Where the fuck is Beth, huh? Where is she?"

"I don't know-"

"Did ya kill her? You hurt her? I swear to God you piece of shit..." he reared his arm back, balling his hand into a fist.

"Daryl!" Carol's voice called out to him from somewhere in the distance. He paused for a moment before shaking his head and letting his arm do what felt right, what felt natural.

Two punches later arms with more force than Carol could rightly possess were wrestling him backwards away from the man. Elbowing his way out of the grip Daryl turned to find Rick behind him, Carol panting a few feet away with her gun trained on the man. Rick held his hands up cautiously, lowering his head like he was approaching some kind of wild animal.

"Daryl..." Rick began.

"I didn't take any girl," the man spoke, spitting a mouthful of blood.

"Shut up," Carol advised, cocking her gun purposefully. "Daryl what's going on here?"

"I'm a man of God. I would never-"

"Shut up," Rick snapped. "I was checking the snares with Carl when I heard Carol scream. Told him to stay put and came runnin'. You wanna tell me what the hell this is about?"

All eyes were on Daryl but he remained silent, starring at the man who's bald head was bent as he mouthed some kind of prayer, his hands clasped tightly. When Daryl moved towards him again Rick caught his arm and held it firmly, jostling it until he made eye contact.

"Talk to us man."

The silence that stretched out was deafening until Carol stepped closer and shoved her gun to the man's head. "You tell me this man deserves to die and I'll put a bullet in him myself. We trust you and we're with you. But you gotta tell us what's going on here Daryl," she said.

"He took her," he finally muttered.

"I didn't take anyone. I haven't even seen another human for weeks."

"He's got the same damn cross sticking to his back window Rick. I ran after that car all night, I'd know it anywhere," Daryl insisted.

"It wasn't me!"

"Are you sure it's the same car?" Rick asked.

"The car... the car aint the same. But the cross is. The cross is his and if the cross is his then he took her."

Rick looked around uncertainly, dragging a hand down his face and shaking his head. "Shit man, hell. If it aint the same car then maybe he's tellin' the truth."

"I'm a man of God. A man of honor," he began again.

"You're full of shit!" Daryl yelled, jabbing a finger in his direction.

"Now hold on, just hold on Daryl. We can't kill him cause he's got a cross in his window," Rick reasoned.

"It's the same damn cross!"

"I swear to you..." the priest swallowed the rest of his words when Carol jammed the gun up against his throat.

"Do you like pretty little blonde girls father? Cause I had a little girl once, she was pretty, had blonde hair. She was real sweet and the world wasn't kind enough to her. It's never kind enough to girls like that," she paused to push the gun against him harder. "You wanna swear something? You swear that you don't know what happened to that girl. And you pray that I believe you."

"Carol. Take it easy," Rick warned.

"I didn't take her," the man repeated. His eyes fell shut hopelessly, his body slumping with exhaustion. "But I might know who did."

Daryl rushed towards the man before anyone could say another word. It was Carol who grabbed him then, silencing his protests with a stern glance and blocking the man from his reach.

"What's your name?" she asked him.

"Father Gabriel. Gabriel..."

"You were a priest?" Rick questioned him.

"I still am."

"Can't nobody give themselves titles like that anymore," Daryl sneered.

"It's not just a title," he replied, eyes stealing with something that looked a lot like determination.

"Look we're wasting time with all this back and forth. Just tell us what you know about Beth. Do you know where she is, if she's alive?" Rick urged.

"I - I can't say. The men who I think may have taken her, they aren't good men. They stole a car I had been using a couple of months ago. That's why you recognized the cross in the window," he explained.

"You seem to have found yourself a new car pretty quickly," Carol noted skeptically.

"We had two cars for a long time. Me and, well there was a group of us. We had secured a church and were using the cars to bring people to safety. The men who took the car called themselves Samuel and Jackson. They came into the church one day and pointed their guns at us. They were evil men and they did evil things, horrible things..." Gabriel clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly for a moment. "They killed everyone, laughed in my face and asked me where God was. Then they took our supplies and the car, and left."

"You were the only one they left alive?" Rick asked.

"Yes."

"If what you're saying is the truth, then we're very sorry for what happened to you. But you can understand why we'd be cautious. We've dealt with our fair share of evil men ourselves," Carol sighed.

"I understand," he nodded.

"Any idea where these men might be staying?" Rick asked.

Gabriel nodded hesitantly. "I saw the car parked outside of a house a few miles north. I didn't think- I didn't know they had a girl…"

"Can you find it again?" Carol asked.

"I just wanted to get as far away from them as possible. I didn't think-"

"Do you know where the house is?" Daryl snapped. Gabriel nodded shortly, backing away from Daryl's looming presence.

"We should take him back to the group. Let the others hear what he has to say and then decide what to do," Rick said.

Daryl had begun shaking his head before Rick finished speaking. "Nah. Like you said, all we're doin' here is wastin' time. I aint waitin' around for some group vote. I'm findin' her."

"Maggie deserves to hear this Daryl," Carol tried.

"Don't care," he grunted, moving towards the car. "You two wanna deliver the telegraph, go right ahead. Me an padre here are gonna head up the road and find that damn house," he said, grabbing Gabriel by the arm and leading him to the passenger's side of the car.

"Wait," Rick huffed.

Daryl paused with his hand on the side of the door and his eyebrows raised.

"I'll go with you," he nodded. "Carol you should head back to camp, find Carl and take him with you. Tell the others what's going on and keep everyone calm. We'll check out this house, see if they're still there."

"What exactly should I tell Maggie to keep her from running after you all?" she wondered.

Rick chuckled knowingly and shrugged. "Just ah, tell her we'll meet with you all at the camp before following any leads. If we find Beth we'll bring her back and if not, we'll decide what to do next as a group."

Daryl snorted humorlessly before shoving Gabriel all the way into the car and slamming the door. He made his way to the driver's side, not sparing a glance to see if Rick was following.

"Keep an eye on him," Carol said, nodding towards Daryl. Rick eyed her critically for a moment before nodding shortly. She returned the gesture before backing away and watching him maneuver into the back seat.

There was a look in Daryl's eye that neither Carol nor Rick could recognize. It was unsettling and magnetic all at the same time. His determination was familiar but the urgency worried Rick. Seeing that unnamed recklessness had prompted him to give in and join Daryl. Rick couldn't stop him from rushing in blind, but he could stand by his side. He could watch his back and offer his shoulder.

It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't be pretty. But, sometimes the hardest things were the most worthwhile. They owed it to Beth to try. And Daryl knew that for his own sake he'd better do a hell of a lot more than that. He needed to find her.

Notes : This is my first venture into Walking Dead fiction. I'm not sure how long this will be, but as of now I have 5 chapters written. It should be noted that I have a fantastic beta reader, Angela, helping me with this. Her feedback and critiques have been key in getting this going. I have also been listening to Hallelujah on loop as the title suggests and have found a lot of inspiration in the lyrics.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the story. I would appreciate any comments or feedback. Thank you for reading!