A/N: So I've never written a fic for TWD before and after multiple hours spent reading numerous Daryl/Beth fics I just couldn't help myself. I kept picturing this happening mainly because I'm impatient and I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO BETH. So I thought the only way to deal with my inability to be patient is to imagine this entire scenario to make myself feel a little bit better... I haven't had this beta'ed and I'm quite certain there are a bunch of grammatical errors scattered throughout it. So, I hope you can look past them and just bask in the Daryl/Beth feels.

- Beth POV -

The walk to Terminus was long and weary and for a while she was almost sure she wouldn't make it. But the thought of him waiting for her there kept her going. The thought of Maggie and Glenn and everybody else that could be there gave her all the encouragement she needed. Seeing those messages Maggie had left at every Terminus sign for Glenn gave her the motivation. But seeing the messages Daryl had written next to Maggie's gave her determination.

All she knew was that she wasn't going to die alone. She wasn't going to die in the woods. She wasn't going to die at the hands of walkers. She hadn't died at the hands of the Governor. She hadn't died at the hands of her kidnapper. She escaped, she made it and she was going to die in his arms. She was going to make it to Terminus so that she could at least look at him one last time. She was going to make it so she could say goodbye properly.

And she was going to tell him and remind him that he was good and is good and always will be a good person. It wasn't just because he saved her or survived with her after the prison. It wasn't just because he gave her piggyback rides when she hurt her ankle even though she was perfectly capable of limping around. It wasn't because they got drunk together and cried together and played that awful 'I've never' game together. It wasn't because he slept in a coffin when she played the piano and sang.

It was because of his loyalty and devotion. His friendship and strength, respect and care for the people of the prison. It was the way he took the time to do all the things nobody else wanted to do or could do, like catch a deer or squirrels or fish or whatever else he could find in the woods. It was because every single time he brought back a catch he never stayed around long enough to hear their thanks. It was because he was Daryl. Daryl Dixon. The redneck. The guy that would have probably ended up a drunk and a drug addict had the world not gone to shit. It was because when the world went to shit, he became good.

And ultimately, it was because when he survived with her, he made damn well sure to keep her safe above everything else. She wasn't Michonne or Carol or Maggie. She wasn't tough or strong. She was just Beth Greene, daughter of Hershel, once upon a time suicidal and lately Judith's babysitter. That was all she was and yet he still went out of his way to look after her. He still bothered enough to survive with her.

So for that she decided that even if the others were at Terminus and even if Maggie were there, she didn't wasn't to die in any of their arms. She was going to die in his. She was going to make sure that she could feel his warmth just one last time.

Her ankle was still sore and she was quite sure she had broken a rib or two when she escaped her kidnapper. But she made it that far already. She killed walkers when she needed too and hid from them when she could. She slept very little in the night and ran and walked for what felt like weeks. But she kept going. She didn't stop, she didn't give up and she never looked back.

It felt like weeks and to be really honest she didn't really know how long it had been since she started running. She lost track of the days and only focused on staying alive and finding each Terminus sign. She didn't even know how she managed to survive that long on a jar of peanut butter she came across in her kidnapper's shack before she escaped.

But finally even though her vision was blurred and her hands were shaking, she squinted and made out the outlines of the door to Terminus. She was hopeful that they wouldn't shoot her and mistake her for another walker. There was so much blood on her clothes and from the way she was stumbling along, she could probably have passed up as a walker.

But she walked, she limped and winced with every step she took towards the door. She made it. That was all she thought, that was all she said to herself in the long and weary minutes or hour or day that it took for her to walk up to the door. She didn't even know or care anymore because when she reached the door and when she placed a hand on its opening, she heard voices, some familiar and some new. She heard a shout and she heard her name.

Strange, she thought. The voice sounded remarkably like Carl's.

"Daryl," she shouted and used up every last inch of strength that was left in her. It hurt her ribs and her voice sounded so strange. She hadn't spoken for the longest time.

"Beth," she heard him and all she felt was relief. "Beth, hold on," he shouted.

"The walkers, they're going to get to her," Carl shouted. She knew his voice and she recognized it. Maybe the others did make it after all.

"Daryl," she mumbled this time and collapsed to the floor. Her legs were giving way and her ribs were probably snapped by now. She was probably bleeding internally but she didn't really care anymore. She made it.

She felt defeated though. She felt as if every inch of strength had been sucked out of her. She could only sit there slouched with her head hanging over her legs.

"Hurry up and open the fuckin' door," he shouted. She heard shuffled footsteps and shouts and then she heard gears and metal and chains. She felt the cool breeze of Terminus slowly blowing on her as the doors opened.

She couldn't see out of her right eye by then and she couldn't feel her legs. She couldn't even feel the pain in her ribs. She didn't even know where her knife was or that jar of peanut butter. But she heard footsteps and voices and she heard Carl.

"I'll…I'll go get…the others," Carl said.

But it didn't matter. She didn't care. She felt him when he neared her and kneeled and took her into his arms. It all happened so fast that she couldn't really quite recall how exactly she went from slouching alone to being held by him. But she remembered looking up at him, she remembered his hands running all over her, checking her stomach and arms and legs. He was probably checking if she had been bitten, but it didn't matter. She was going to die.

She opened her eyes or rather her left good eye because her right eye was so bruised that she couldn't even see anything through it anymore. She probably looked like ultimate shit, but she made it and she was here in Terminus in his arms and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

She saw tears in his eyes and she saw pain and concern and relief too. But despite it all she smiled. She made it. She moved her hand from where it had been hanging limply and she touched his hand. The one that was holding onto the side of her face and cradling her cheek.

"I made it," she whispered and smiled again. "Wanted…to tell…you…"

"Beth," it oddly sounded like he was begging, "Beth, stay wit' me."

"You're…good…always…good person. Remember."

"Beth!" the last thing she hears before she sees darkness is Maggie.

- Daryl POV -

They wouldn't understand. The others. They would never really get it. He could have explained if he wanted too but it wouldn't be right coming from him. He told them what they needed to know when he made it to Terminus to find them all there. He told them about after the prison, about running through the woods and hiding out here and there and surviving as best as they could.

He told them about shack but not about the moonshine. He told them about when she hurt her leg and when they made it to that graveyard. He told them about that house and about the fact that he slept in a coffin but not about her singing or playing the piano. He told them about the stash they found and about how odd it had been that nobody was there. Then he told them about the dog, that night and the walkers. He told them that she was taken and that on that same day he was met with some unworthy folk. He escaped them though when a hoard of walkers attacked their camp and every day since he had done nothing but looked for her until he came across the Terminus sign.

Once he had brought her to the infirmary he left. He volunteered for guard duty and the guards of Terminus were only too happy to comply. He stared down the road and he didn't let a walker get within a good distance. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to be there. But he wasn't worthy of that. He wasn't good enough to be there. He didn't deserve that. Not since the way she looked up at him when he held her. Not since she stumbled towards Terminus with a bruised eye, broken ribs and merely an inch from death.

He was supposed to protect her. He was supposed to have found her. He was supposed to have saved her. But he didn't. He made it to Terminus and she wasn't there like he thought. He showered, he ate, he slept and he survived while she was out there running, walking, surviving.

"Thanks, man, I'll take over now," one of the guards said to him.

He nodded and climbed down but before he could even take a step he saw Rick standing there.

"She's awake," Rick said simply.

He didn't really know what to say and he kept silent for a moment as he unhinged his crossbow and threw it over his shoulder.

"She alright?" he asked finally. It seemed like the right thing to ask.

"She's asking for you," Rick said.

"Oh," he murmured. It took him a moment to realised he had unintentionally dropped his guard. He grunted and cleared his throat and began to walk off.

"Daryl, she's asking for you," Rick said again and caught his shoulder.

He stilled in mid walk and looked to the ground. He wanted to see her. But he just couldn't face her. Not now. Not when he failed her.

"Daryl," Rick said again and slid his hand off Daryl's shoulder. "She's asking, for you."

"I can't," he said softly after a moment of silence.

"You can't? Or you won't?"

He stared at the ground and for once in his life didn't feel as invincible as he always did.

"I don't know what happened between the-"

He turned around angrily and muttered, "Nah, ya don't. So don't even start wit' yer bullshit preaching okay? I don't need it."

"I wasn't going too," Rick defended calmly.

"I ain't goin' ta see her," he said simply trying not to get too angry, "No matter how much she wants me ta."

"She made it here," Rick started in the calmest tone Daryl had heard yet, "She killed her kidnapper, she ran through the woods and roads and she didn't-"

The rage in him hit its limit and all he saw was red. He threw a punch which Rick managed to dodge quite easily he realised.

"Just shut up," he threatened and charged at him.

"No," Rick muttered.

He drove his fist into Rick's stomach and the man buckled but stood quickly and charged back at him. The punch that hit his shoulder hurt and he really didn't want to fight. He really didn't want to have to do all of this and of all people, with Rick. But he didn't want to listen. He failed her. He didn't deserve to see her.

"She didn't know where she was going until she saw the Terminus signs. She saw your messages-"

He charged again and with one hand holding onto Rick's shirt he punched the other into his head. Rick did the same and each blow to his head was hard and raw and it hurt.

"She saw Maggie's too…they didn't give her the determination to survive, your messages did-"

His punches were significantly weaker he realised after a while. He was bleeding and he could feel it dripping down the side of his face. But Rick looked almost fine save for the slight hint of blood at his brow. It looked as if he had hardly even touched the man.

"She didn't get bit-"

He felt sick.

"-she ran and walked and survived on a jar of peanut butter-"

He felt his insides twist.

"All of that…with two broken ribs, fractured hand, badly bruised eye, sprained ankle…"

His knees buckled and somehow he wasn't punching anymore. He was on the floor on his hands and knees and he was staring at the floor. He cried like a hopeless bastard. The residents of Terminus were probably watching by now but he really didn't care anymore.

"She made it here because she thought that she was going to die," Rick said calmly now between ragged breaths.

"Rick," he begged.

"And she said that she didn't want to let herself die in the woods…"

"Don't."

"Or because of the walkers."

"Please."

"She wanted to die in your arms."

He was slouched by now on the floor head hanging hopelessly like he had been when he ran after the car that had taken her until he couldn't run anymore. He didn't look at Rick. He didn't look at anything.

"She wanted to say goodbye properly to all of us," Rick said softer this time.

He kept silent and didn't move.

"And she just wanted to remind you that you are a good person. That's why she made it here."

He sat there for the longest time even long after Rick left him. He heard Rick calling out to Carl to help him. The kid must have been somewhere in the shadows the whole time. He was momentarily thankful that the kid hadn't stepped in. He would have thrown a punch and wouldn't have cared if he hit the kid.

He heard shuffling feet after a while of dead silence but he didn't look up. He continued staring at the floor until he saw a pair of bare feet in front of him. He didn't dare look up.

"You shud be in bed," he slurred heavily and tasted blood in his mouth.

"Are you okay?" she asked slowly.

He felt her hand moving to cradle the side of his head and he couldn't help but lean into her touch. In all of his life he had never found this sort of a comfort in a woman's touch. It had never made him feel like this before.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Beth."

"I shud hav' been there." His shoulders began to shake and he cried and had never felt more vulnerable than he did in that moment.

"I shud have protected yer," he muttered, "I shud have kept yer safe."

"But you did," she told him.

He tilted his head back and looked up to her. She smiled down at him. She smiled as if they were still there in that house talking over peanut butter and cola. She smiled as if nothing had happened.

"I made it," she said, "That's all that matters, right?"

The way she smiled at him and the way she looked at him. It made him look at her; really look at her and drink her in. Here was a woman that was once a girl who tried to commit suicide because the world went to shit. Here's a woman that learned how to live instead and learned how to adapt and how to smile even when all was lost. Here was a woman that he survived with. Here was a woman that he carried and that he listened to sing and play the piano while he slept in a coffin. Here was a woman that once depended on him and that somehow in the past few weeks, managed to survive hell because of the mere thought of him.

It took him a moment and when he finally caught up to it he slid his hand into her hand; the hand that had been cradling the side of his head. He smiled up at her and he brought his knees from either side of him and stood slowly in front of her. The world went to shit and the entire Terminus could have been watching for all he cared. Maggie would have words with him later and Glenn and Carol probably everyone else too.

But they wouldn't understand.

He circled his arms around her and held her close. The blood was still dripping down the side of his face and onto her, but it didn't matter. He held her and felt her forehead against his cheek. He breathed and for the first time in his entire life, he felt vulnerable but yet safe all at the same time.

"I missed you," she whispered into his chest.

He breathed deeply and murmured, "I missed ya too."

"We should get drunk again sometime," she said softly.

"And burn a shack down?"

"Yeah," he felt her smile. "It was fun."

end.