Chapter One: This world is gonna burn, burn, burn, burn.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the plot.

Two years had passed since the community at the prison was built. Two years of loss, suffering, and in some brisk wonderful moments happiness had surfaced. No one could have seen it coming. The deaths, the unexpected births, this new-found so called circle of life had started back up again walkers or not.

She was always there, burning at the back of his mind. When he was alone in his cell and everyone else was fast asleep far away in a dreamland that held promises of an escape from Walkers, he could hear her. Or at least he thought he could.

Those unmistakable whimpers in the dead of night.

He had wanted to comfort her, and he almost had on several rare occasions. He would sit up in bed, slip on his boots, and wait as he created an all-out war against himself on the matter.

Daryl had never been a man of sentiment, nor had he ever really cared for someone other than his brother. Certainly, he did come to accept the group in the prison, and even enjoy some of their company but none more than hers.

Daryl Dixon had a very long line of disappointment in life.

People he could never impress, people that had left scars both physical and mental, and people that had just left.

Love was foreign to him. He had never spoken the word. It was also a word that was never used by another person in regard to him.

He soon fell asleep to her melodic cries; an almost reminiscent reminder of his younger self. But never was he able to escape the world of death and darkness in which he lived.

The nightmare was always the same.

Screams echoed through the halls, pulling Daryl from his slumber. He hopped to his feet and he slid into his boots. He slung his bow over his shoulder, and he grabbed his combat knife from his sink. As he began to regain consciousness, the screams grew louder.

He bounded out of his cell, and he nearly knocked over a walker. He flipped his knife, and he rammed it into the back of its head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Glenn. "What the hell happened?" He yelled over the screams, stabbing a female walker in the eye. Glenn must have dropped his knife somewhere, because he was shooting everything he could with his assault rifle.

"A huge herd came through and knocked down the fence!" He yelled back. Daryl began slashing his way to Glenn. Stabbing as many walkers as he could. Eye. Nose. Mouth. Jaw. He didn't care where he stabbed them as long as they nicked them in some way.

A high pitch female screech cut through the air. "Maggie." Glenn whispered, allowing himself a dangerously long amount of time to stop fighting. A very short walker, most likely a child, sunk it's teeth into his shoulder blade.

"Glen!" Daryl shouted, but it was in vain.

Glenn cried out in pain and when he looked up at Daryl he knew that his fate was sealed. Glenn began to shoot a path towards the direction of the scream several walkers clinging onto him. Daryl let out a stream of arrows killing as many of those fuckers as he could.

Glenn was never able to reach the door, and as the walkers overtook him, he managed to yell out one last request.

"Save Maggie, and the children."

Daryl killed the remaining amount of walkers near Glenn, curb-stomping on their skulls. He nodded reverently, and he pushed open the solid steel door. Glenn Rhee raised his gun for one final time, tears rushing down his face. Before Glenn could pull the trigger, Daryl ducked out of the doorway.

BANG.

It was silent under the piercing light of the sun. What used to be a busy, bustling mecca of the prison was now a graveyard. No walkers moaned, no celebration of yet another fateful attempt at keeping someone alive. Bodies littered the ground both human and walkers alike. The cement was soaked with blood. There was no telling who was alive, if anyone was.

Daryl scanned the prison yard, hoping to see some sort of movement. There was a flickering of light, and he ran as fast as he could, keeping low to the ground. As he got closer, he saw her. She was perched on top of the only hill within the yard, her platinum blond hair flowing wildly with the silent wind.

She stared at him, her blue-green eyes threatening tears at any moment. She held a screaming Judith in one arm, and in the other was a gun, hanging carelessly at her side. "Beth!" Daryl hissed, as he moved forward he slung his crossbow back over his shoulder.

Beth didn't move. Thought the cries coming from Judith grew louder. Beth didn't even flinch, but as Daryl came closer, she lifted the gray handgun slowly; fear now engulfing her eyes. A single tear trailed down her cheek, and she began to tremble.

As she pressed the barrel of the gun to the little girl's forehead, Beth had closed her eyes. Daryl pushed himself to go faster, and faster to reach them. He flung himself at the fence at full force and it busted open. "No! No, no, no, no! BETH!" He shrieked.

BANG.

The echo of Judith's last cry rang out against the prison walls. Beth sat down carefully with Judith still entangled in her arms. "Why?!" He sobbed, dropping to his knees before her. He wrapped them both into his arms, and he rocked them back and forth. "No child should live in a world this cruel." She whispered, her voice raw with emotion.

Beth held out one blood smeared hand, and she pressed it against his cheek. She leaned foreward and she gently kissed his forehead. "Join me."

Then in almost an instant, she put the barrel of the gun in her mouth, and before Daryl could do anything, a third and final,

BANG.

Had gone off that morning.

Daryl awoke sometime in the wee hours of the morning, drenched in sweat. He gasped for air, shooting straight up in his bed. A small hand reached out, and touched his elbow. He jumped back, immediately retreating to the corner of his bed. "Shhh. It's me." The voice whispered, and his lantern clicked on. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust. "Are you having nightmares again?" She questioned, sitting down on the corner opposite of him.

Her outline was becoming visible, and he recognized the honey colored hair. "Beth?" He asked, downright surprised. Beth bit her lip, and she pulled her legs up to her chest. "I haven't been sleeping real well either." She admitted. "It's none of your damn business if I'm having nightmares." He spat, and he sat back into the middle of his bed. Beth's face fell, and she nodded. "I'm sorry, Daryl."

He buried his face back into his pillows, and he flung the blankets back over himself. He heard the soft pitter-patter of her feet going back down the hallway. A few moments later, he swore he heard the cries start back up again.