Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Walking Dead nor do I make anything from writing this. Those rights belong to the genius Robert Kirkman.

A/N: I asked for permission and I know I'm jumping the gun (I haven't heard from her (yet)) but I couldn't help myself! I fell in love with a writer's work (apenny12) and had to write a short fic that nebulously (doesn't) takes place in the possibility of futures in her story, "HOPE." Go read hers first (or later) because it's awesome! I hope she updates soon! Anyway the premise is that Beth survived and three years later, rejoins the group in Alexandria, where she has to deal with the emotions of those who are 1: shocked to see her alive and 2; crushed to learn she has no memory of them. "Apenny12" really did her homework on surviving a fatal wound as Beth's had been. Best author of Beth/Daryl Walking Dead fanfiction I've seen so far! I wish now, painfully, that The Walking Dead bigwigs had decided to do something similar for Beth's story. Because it would be a *GREAT* story! But to do it right…they'd have to wait for 2-3 seasons. For shock value. The b*sterds.

"The Moments Between"

The old building was on fire at both exits but still the walkers shambled through. He was out of bolts, slamming his crossbow into their heads and shoulders to put them down or knock them away. "Run!" he shouted to Beth. If she could get out before the fire spread too thick, maybe she could get to the bike. He pulled out his knife when a walker got too close, slamming the blade into its skull. He held on as it fell and moved to take the next one coming. "Run, damnit!"

"No!" she shouted back. He glanced at her. She would be breathtaking if the situation weren't so dire. The forearm machete strapped to her arm swung continuously, flowing through the air in graceful arcs and jabs as she took down the walkers attempting to surround them. Her long braid swayed with her movements, accentuating her agility as she fought. Her crystal-blue eyes flicked to him as a walker went down under her blade, firelight reflecting off the round scar that marred her forehead. Those blues widened in alarm and she stepped toward him.

"Daryl!" she shouted. He whipped his head back around but the floor was suddenly swinging toward the ceiling and stars exploded across his vision until all was white.

"Daryl…" said a voice that felt familiar, echoing through…wherever he was. He tried to ignore it, throwing his arm over his eyes to shield them from the white light.

"Daryl…"

"Daryl," said the voice again, a little more clearly this time. He recognized that voice. It was Beth. He opened his eyes.

The white light had gone, replaced with sky. He was lying on his back on the ground, looking up at it. It was a clear blue, scattered with clouds, reminding him of his first hunting trip he'd taken alone. He moved his limbs experimentally, expecting some kind of pain and was pleased when he found none.

"Daryl?" He looked to his right, straight into a beautiful pair of crystal-blue eyes within a heart-shaped face. She smiled with warmth.

"Beth?" he asked wonderingly, noting the absence of her scars. He reached out and brushed a fingertip over her cheek, finding it smooth. "Are y'alright?" Her smile widened.

"M' alright Daryl, been waiting here for you." He sat up and she followed suit.

"Waitin'?" She nodded. He heard a soft panting to his left and there was a strange white dog, wagging its tail at him. It looked like one he'd seen before, although that one had been shaggy and missing an eye. It whined and wandered off, bringing a sense of unease to his mind.

"What is this?" he asked, voice rough. Something was feeling off, like that prickle when you're being stalked. He glanced into the tree line and realized two things: it was a place he recognized and; there was an obscuring mist just inside the trees. He didn't hear any walkers but that didn't mean anything.

"Beth, we should get movin'. It aint safe out here." She shook her head, cool as a cucumber and placed a soothing hand on his arm.

"Don't worry, Daryl, nothing can find us here. Or harm us."

"Why's that?" She offered him a patient stare and a knowing smile, saying everything with her eyes. He realized then that she looked younger, softer than he'd recently grown used to. Those crystal eyes held innocence and determination, playful wit and a gentle strength. This was Beth. The Beth he'd grown fond of. The Beth he'd failed.

"Oh," he said when it dawned on him. He felt a sinking sensation in his gut and wondered if she was telling him what he thought she was telling him. "Is that why," he gestured to her face and the absence of scars.

He looked down at the grass beneath them before she could answer, hiding his eyes as tears stung them. "M'sorry Beth," he said quietly, voice breaking on the words. She squeezed his hand then, reaching with her left to touch his chin, gently urging him to look at her. He met her eyes. The tears fell and his brows furrowed as he felt the dam of years breaking once again, unable to stem the tide of emotions brought forth by that gentle touch. "M'sorry I failed you." She responded as he remembered, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight as he wept.

They sat like that for a while and when the tide had ebbed, she gave him another reassuring squeeze and said softly into his hair, "its okay, Daryl."

"If I'hadn –

"No." she said sharply. Her voice softened as she continued, "That's not why I'm here." She brushed the tears from his face, the hair out of his eyes.

"Is it really you?" he asked. She nodded. "Well then, who's the one out there?" He gestured vaguely to the tree line and she looked. Her eyes became distant, as though seeing far away.

"She's still me. I'm me. I…lost something, when it happened. Something had to change and this was the trade. I lived. But a part of me was lost and it's never coming back, Daryl. I'm sorry."

He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Me too."

"But I'm still in there," she said matter-of-factly, "I know you see it. It's why you'd held hope I'll remember more." He nodded.

She shifted to sit in front of him on her knees, a look of gentle determination on her features. She reached out and cupped his face. "What're y'doin?" he asked. She smiled and leaned forward.

"Something I've liked to have tried if we'd had the time," she said. She pressed her lips to his, chaste and sweet. He felt an ache in his chest and returned her kiss, sliding his lips along hers with tenderness. His hands moved as of their own accord, stroking her hair, cheek and shoulder. He pulled her closer, into his lap and held her tight as the kiss became fervent. He put everything he could into kissing her. It was desperate with regret and apology, a 'gallows kiss' if there'd ever been one. She slid fingers through his hair and grabbed ahold, accepting his onslaught and returning in kind.

As she trailed her lips over his jaw and cheek there was a sense of relief and joy as well. She clutched his shoulders, accepting the swirl of emotions in his passion as she accepted everything else about him.

Breathing deeply and looking dazed, she kissed him with a finality and promise. Eyes inches from his, they shone with her smile. He leaned in one more time and placed a last chaste kiss on her swollen lips.

"I don't have much time with yeh, here." She said apologetically. He kept his eyes on her, mesmerized by the joy she radiated. How she'd kept that in a world that had…done that to her, he'd found baffling and endearing.

"Why's that?"

"Because this is temporary. You're gonna live…you're a 'last man standing' remember? Don't forget: I'm in her still" she placed a hand on his pounding heart, "and I'm here."

"Don't tell me," he said with a rough voice, "That you're saying goodbye now."

"This isn't goodbye. You know I hate goodbyes, Daryl."

"Daryl" echoed again and the mist in the wood was suddenly everywhere. He felt Beth's hand on his chest, pushing him back down into the grass beneath them. He let her, laying back and touched her hand where it rested on his chest.

"Daryl"

M' gonna miss you, girl. He thought to himself.

But you don't have to, came the startling reply that echoed through his head in a feminine voice.

"Daryl"

He took a choking breath and his eyes flew open to meet a pair of concerned crystal-blue ones, so similar to the ones he'd just been looking into. Beth's face was thinner, a round scar marring her forehead and another one from a healed cut to the cheek, but it was still her. Harder on the outside but still the Beth he'd known. The Beth he was falling for all over again. The hand she held to his chest was shaking him as she repeated his name over and over, beseeching him to wake up.

"Daryl, thank God!" She threw herself down over him, hugging him tightly. He tried to move but failed for several seconds, instead leaning his head into her shoulder.

He groped for more air and sat up while Beth helped him. He looked around them. They were outside the old building, which still burned. Outside the building were littered several twice-dead walkers. The two of them were hidden in the relative cover of some brush.

"Did you…?" he asked. She nodded casually.

"Of course," She replied matter-of-factly, "I'm not leaving you, Daryl." Her eyes held his steadily, suddenly serious. "I'll never leave you."

As those familiar words left her lips his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes had that same mischievous glint to them as she smiled. He smiled back and his eyes stung as they welled up. "You okay?"

He nodded carefully. "Yeah, m'head hurts somethin fierce." It did. But he didn't care.

"C'mon," she said, "We need to head back before more walkers show up."

As they trudged back to Alexandria, covered in gore, he slipped his fingers through hers. Home.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the read! I found it therapeutic…I even cried for Beth again while writing it. It's a good thing though. Let me know what you think (especially apenny12 if/when you see this)! Yes, I quoted the show mercilessly but it was too tempting to resist (and fits right in with what Apenny12 has been doing w her fanfiction).