A/N: It has been at least five years since I've even attempted to write something for this site, so please be kind! :| It also happens to be my first attempt at a TWD fic. I only very recently began this show, so I am a tad bit behind on this Bethyl train, but believe me - I have most definitely fallen down the delusional rabbit hole that is Daryl Dixon and Beth Greene. (In case you were curious and not aware of the beautiful song this story is titled from, please take a listen to She is the Sunlight by Trading Yesterday - you won't regret it.)

she lives in a daydream, where i don't belong. 'cause she is the SUNLIGHT and the sun is gone.

Beth let out a shaky sigh, resting against a tree trunk. This wasn't okay. None of this was right, it had to all be an awful dream.

It had been a month and a half, at least she figured, since she was kidnapped from the funeral home. Two months easily, since the prison fell.

The strangers in the car had gotten the best of her.

Unfortunately for them, she wasn't going to go without a fight.

(After all, she was Daryl Dixon's apprentice for a second there.)

It was in no way graceful like Michonne probably could've pulled off or steady like Maggie's hand when it came to self defense, but Beth had found a way to make it work.

She hadn't been sure who was in the car, after successfully breaking the tape around her wrists, she didn't wait to find out.

Beth had maneuvered a way to slide across the cheap leather backseats and took the opportunity of at least two strangers upfront who were arguing about directions, and opened the door. She dove out, something she had began to regret once the pain of the road rash crept up on her. The healing wounds still littered her arms, legs, neck, and cheek.

From there, she simply began to run as far and deep into the forest as she could. The more distance the better. With nothing but her hunting knife strapped to her leg, it took three days for the blonde to curse herself for not thinking it all more through.

But it wasn't something she had time to focus on, all she could care about was finding someone familiar.

Anyone.

Sadly, her journey was beginning to take it's toll. (As was her fear) She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept. It had been at least a day and a half since she had ate anything. A walker's blood had dried on her skin, turning a disgusting shade of brown.

Attempting to push herself away from the tree she was practically clinging to, taking a step forward, she felt something snap under her weight.

Beth glanced down to find a lone arrow.

Daryl.

She was sure it was simply her mind playing tricks on her, there was no way in hell it was possible, but this wasn't just an arrow to make her think of Daryl.

It was one of Daryl's arrows.

The blonde choked back a sob, slumping down to the wooded ground. Gently scooping up the broken arrow, Beth held it delicately, afraid it might be the only thing she had left of her family.

Quickly turning to take in her surroundings, she took the few things she had learned from Daryl about tracking, and began to look over the dirt with a careful eye.

"D-Daryl..." She heard her voice call out. It was hoarse and barely a sound at all. Hell, she couldn't even remember the last time she had spoken out loud. Attempting to clear her throat, the youngest Greene attempted to scramble to her feet, trying again. "Daryl!"

Silence was her only answer. Frustrated tears began to form in her eyes and it only angered her more.

Poor little Beth.

Can't even find her way back to the fucking street.

Beth took only a few more moments to feel self pity. If she wanted to survive, now was not the time or place.

Huffing, she pushed back some unruly blonde hair that had fallen into her face and stuck thanks to the unforgiving humidity. Pulling off her dirty, thin sweater, she tied it around her waist and continued to hold firmly onto the arrow.

Perhaps this was the piece of motivation she needed. Glancing at the sun for a second, Beth continued walking through the trees.

Trying to find a sign of anything, a sign of him.

Daryl sat in silence. Something he was remarkably good at since...well as long as he could remember.

For a while he considered the idea that Merle had gotten all of the loudness, it was only right for his brother to be the silent bystander.

(The world didn't deserve two loud Dixons roaming around.)

For some people, the absolute quiet was frightening, but for Daryl - it was calming.

Lately, it was that silence he was craving.

It gave him time to think of her.

When he saw them all again, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Carol, Glenn, Lil' Ass Kicker, Maggie; he knew Beth Greene wouldn't simply just fade away from his memory.

She deserved to be there, with them. He was the least deserving out of anyone.

Beth was always trying to help, always pushing people into the light.

What kind of world did they live in if they lost that last beacon of light?

He had told them all he was going out to find some food, Rick knew better.

"Daryl..."

"Hmm."

"It's not your fault, ya know? You said it yourself, she ain't dead. Just gone. She'll make it back, Beth's strong."

"Mm."

Squinting as sunlight began to, ironically, shine through the hair that was covering his eyes, blinding him - like her - Daryl stood from his spot on the ground.

"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon."

"Girl, you have no idea..." He muttered to himself, wiping his palms on his already dirty pants.

Stalking back to his bike he had left behind some bushes, Daryl pulled his crossbow over his head, slinging it onto his back.

He had caught a few squirrels, a halfhearted attempt at getting someone to believe he was actually going outside the walls with a purpose. Noting he had lost another arrow, the younger Dixon attempted to make a mental note to stop shooting 'em off so recklessly.

"Waste of fuckin' arrows..." He growled under his breath, someone upset with himself for starting to get careless.

How in the world, could one girl - no, Beth Greene, fuck him up in the head so bad?

No girl had ever done it before.

Then again, Beth wasn't just a girl.

Hell, she was a woman now. One who had seen far more in her life than anyone deserved.

Swinging his leg over his bike, he was ready to start the machine when another sound hit his ears.

"Daryl!"

Freezing, his arms fell to his sides.

There was no way in hell.

He knew that voice. It haunted his damn dreams.

"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon."

Her singsong voice taunted him.

Gritting his teeth, he felt slightly pathetic.

Now he was daydreamin' about her?

He angrily started the engine of the bike, the sound of the machine coming alive cracking through the silence.

Daryl didn't wait to hear her torturous spirit again.

(Please, girl. I looked for you, I swear I did.)

It sent a chill down his spine when he sped out through the trees and almost swore he saw her ponytail.

Fuckin' ghosts.