Chapter 1: Daryl

Colors and unrecognizable shapes rushed past Beth as she flew down the road. Her lungs burned, her muscles protested, and strands of blonde hair clung to her face with sweat. She looked over her shoulder every few seconds. No one was following her now, but she couldn't stop running. Flecks of blood painted the dingy, pale scrubs she wore. The cast on her right wrist felt heavier the longer she ran. She spotted an alleyway from the corner of her eye and darted in that direction. Once she felt safe, she collapsed again the brick wall and was finally able to breathe. She inspected her wrist. The cast was intact and the pain was starting to subside. Gingerly, she reached her free hand up to touch the gash on her cheek. She winced as she realized it had opened back up a little, leaving a streak of fresh blood on her face. She wiped at it and rubbed her hand on the scrubs. More blood to add to the already stained clothes. She missed her jeans and cowboy boots... and a certain gruff redneck that had carried her around.

Every time she thought about Daryl, she felt a different kind of pain. It started deep in her chest and radiated outward. She had barely started to process the look he had given her back at the funeral home when she was taken. She tried not to think about his face, the way his voice sounded when he had said, "You know..." Truth is, she dreamt about him almost every night since they were separated. It was the skills he had taught her that helped her escape, that would help her find him again. Her train of thought was interrupted by a soft groaning at the end of the alley. A walker slouched behind the dumpster had finally noticed her presence. Beth grabbed her knife and made her way over to undead woman struggling to stand. The walker's left foot had long since decayed past the point of being usable. It gave Beth the advantage. Hands with rotting flesh grabbed for her as Beth plunged her knife deep into the walker's skull. No matter how many times she did this, she'd never get used to it. She frowned and looked around to see if anyone had been drawn to the noise. Not seeing anyone around, she took another moment and crouched to her knees to catch her breath. Gotta keep moving.

Daryl yanked a bolt out of a twice dead skull and wiped at the sweat on his brow. He and Carol had been tracking a car with a medical cross on the back that had sped past their group almost two days ago. The car had looked eerily similar to the one he saw squeal away with Beth trapped inside. It seemed like so long ago now. Part of him wondered if it was hopeless, this search. She might already be dead. But the part of him that had changed, that she changed, refused to believe that. She's alive. He felt his chest tighten the way it did every time he thought of Beth. Her hope, her warmth, her trust in him. He only started to feel that spark in himself, the hope for something better. She had ignited that spark in him, and now she was just... gone. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of darker thoughts. He looked over his shoulder. "How much further you say that hospital was?"

Carol extracted her knife from the walker she had just put down and wiped it on the undead's clothes. "A few more miles north, if I remember correctly." She holstered her knife and offered him a wane smile. "Not much further, now." Carol didn't believe Beth was still alive. If she was alive, she was likely wishing she were dead. But the hope in Daryl's eyes made her want to help. She hadn't seen him like this before. Beth certainly had an impact on him.

"C'mon then," he growled and started to head in the direction Carol had said. The pair had just put down a small group of walkers that overtook them on the road. Darting in and out of buildings, making their ways down streets and alleys, where anything could be waiting to jump out at them - this was not something they had been used to in awhile. Daryl felt more comfortable in the woods. At least there, you could track footprints, read signs. Out here, it was harder. Not impossible, just harder. They walked in silence together for awhile, letting the hot Georgia breeze sweep over them.

Carol cast a furtive look at her surly companion, watching him kick a rock out of their path. "What happens if we don't find her, Daryl?" She wanted to help. Beth was family, after all. She also wanted him to be prepared. She knew what it was like now. The things she'd done to get by. She couldn't see Beth doing those things.

"We'll find her." He looked over at her, squinting as the sinking sun caught his eyes, and added, "...Alive."

"How can you be sure?" You were sure Sophia was alive, too, she thought.

"Sometimes ya gotta have a little faith."

Beth slowly stripped the jacket from the walker she just killed. It was about two sizes too big, but it was relatively clean and there was a knife in the pocket. She learned from her time with Daryl that anything could be useful. It was still too hot out to need a jacket, but the nights were getting longer and would soon get chilly. She tied it around her waist and kept moving. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't even know where she was going. This area was new to Beth. A display across the street caught her eye. It looked like a drug store, and there on the other side of the glass was a shelf with bottled water. The shelves weren't full, but they weren't picked clean. She suddenly realized how dry her mouth felt. She cast a glance to the left and the right then darted across the street. The shop's door was locked. She untied the jacket and wrapped it around her good arm. Then, using all the force she could muster, she slammed her wrapped elbow through the glass on the door, shattering it. She waited a beat to see if the noise had stirred up anything from within the bowels of the store. When nothing came lurching out of the darkness she unlocked the door and slipped inside.

There was a lot of stock left inside the store. Beth wondered why it hadn't been looted, why she had to break in. Maybe this place went to hell a lot sooner than the rest. She managed half a smile as she grabbed a bag and started filling it with essentials. They had fed her at the hospital, but only enough to keep her useful and never anything particularly good. Here she spied chips, cookies, and those little crackers with peanut butter in the middle. She cracked open a bottle of water and downed the whole thing. After, she wiped her mouth and used the facilities to clean up. The cold water felt good against her hot skin. She dabbed at the cut on her cheek with paper towels and used some butterfly bandages to keep it closed. Beth wished she could find some different clothes or take the time to brush through her hair, but knew how fast things could go sideways. A small part of her considered holing up in the store for a bit, but it wasn't exactly safe now that she had demolished half of the front entrance. Once she was satisfied with the way she had bandaged up her face, she took the time to really look herself over. There wasn't much light filtering in, but the face staring back at her shook her slightly. She appeared to have aged a couple years within the span of several weeks. New lines etched their way across her features and there were bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep. I'm not a girl anymore. She shouldered her bag and set off down the street again. Outside, the sun was starting to sink below the tops of the buildings. She'd have to find a place to rest for the night soon.

Daryl awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of the night Beth was taken, again. He replayed it in his head so often it had become a part of his subconscious. He knows there was nothing he could have done. If he had dispatched of the walkers more quickly, if he had gotten to the road sooner, they might have killed them both instead of just taking her. There was no use beating himself up over it. It just deepened his resolve to find her. He owed her that much. That, and so much more. For a minute there, he actually believe they could've stayed. That they could've built a life together. Then he had found their group again. Rick, Carl, Michonne, even Glenn and Maggie. Daryl knew Beth had been right. And so he didn't give up hope. Then Carol had shown up with Judith and Tyreese. He wasn't sure about a cure, didn't trust Abraham or Eugene, but he was fine with going to D.C. After he knew Beth was safe. He wasn't going anywhere without her. Not again.

Carol stirred and sat up to look at him. They had found a room in an office building to stay the night. He let Carol have the couch that was in the lobby and he had taken the floor. "You ready to head out?" she asked.

"Gotta take a piss first," he mumbled as he stomped off down the hall.

Carol gathered up their gear and stepped outside. They were about 3 miles away from the hospital she had remembered seeing before. She wasn't sure that's where Beth would be, but she hoped they could find her today, one way or the other. She knew Rick and the others were waiting for them. They had said three days. If they didn't turn up anything today, she knew they'd have to turn back. And she knew that's not what Daryl would want.

The sun was high in the sky and Beth squinted to make out the road ahead. Things had been quiet for awhile now, and she was starting to get nervous. She moved at a steady pace, but every now and then she'd take off running, just to switch things up. She wasn't sure how far she'd come from the hospital, but she had made several turns in her journey yesterday, in case someone had tried to follow. She suspected she had traveled a few miles south. She wasn't sure why she went that way, but she kept down the same path.

The street started sloping downward. Suddenly, Beth felt something grab her ankle. She screamed and looked down to see half a walker grabbing at her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She hadn't seen it and now her scream could be sending dozens more her way. She quickly jammed her knife into its skull and took off running. Just as she suspected, more walkers emerged from nearby alleys and buildings. She could outrun some of them, but she wished she had the full use of her hand... and maybe Daryl's crossbow. Hell, she really wished Daryl were here.

She ran and took down any walker that got too close. She grunted as she stabbed and longed for a better weapon. She was sticking close to the left side of the street, using the walls to her advantage. Then, a group of three walkers came out of the alley closest to her. The first one took her by surprise and she smacked it with her cast before stabbing it. That would hurt later. Her knife logged in the undead man's skull and she had to bend over to pry it out. She spotted a large pipe lying on the ground and quickly grabbed it to sink into the next walker's skull, smashing it against the brick wall in a gooey mess. Some of the thick blood spattered her face and she wiped at it with her arm before readying her stance for the final walker. It lumbered towards her, empty eyes hungrily staring her down. She raised the pipe like a baseball bat, ready to strike, when she heard a whooshing sound and saw the walker fall forward, bolt sticking out of the back of its head.

Shock registered across the small blonde's features as she raised her head and looked beyond the twice dead body lying in front of her. "Daryl?" she breathed. Her eyes focused and she saw the hunter she had spent so much time tracking with, standing there before her.

Daryl rubbed his eyes like he had seen a ghost. She was still there. "Beth!"

"It's really you!" she cried and quickly closed the gap between them. She wanted to fling her arms around him and sob in relief all over his vest, but she suddenly felt apprehension. She stopped just in front of him, unsure of what to do.

He shouldered his crossbow and looked her over. Was this really the same girl he had escaped the prison with? She was visibly older, hardened even. No, she was not the same. The woman who stood before him had seen things, done things he hoped she'd never have to do. "I was comin' to rescue you. Guess it's true... you really don't need me anymore."

Beth's face softened and she realized what she must look like to him. "I'll always need you, Daryl Dixon." She reached up with her good hand and standing on her tiptoes, gave him a hug. Then, just like she'd done before with Rick, she went to kiss his cheek. Only her balance wavered ever so slightly and she grazed the corner of his mouth. She felt the edge of his rough lips under her soft ones and immediately recoiled from the warmth of the intimacy. She quickly drew back and looked at the ground. Oh no. He wasn't ready for that. She knew she wasn't ready. She sneaked a look at him and he stood there just staring past her, not sure where to look.

She was about to apologize, about to explain herself when another walker tumbled out of the alleyway and onto the ground, knife wound clearly visible in its decaying skull. A familiar figure stepped out from behind the corpse and Beth's eyes lit up. "Carol!" she exclaimed and took off in the woman's direction, wrapping her arms around her.

Carol's eyes grew glassy and she smiled the widest she had in awhile as she embraced Beth. "I'm so happy to see you. Daryl refused to give up until we found you." Carol looked over to where Daryl stood, his back still to them.

Daryl gingerly reached up and touched the corner of his mouth. He knew she only meant to kiss him on the cheek, that it had been innocent in nature, but the heat from where her lips touched his still lingered. He didn't know how to react, what to say. He feared he was making it worse by not turning around and saying something even now, but he was certain of one thing now. Beth Greene was back in his life, and he didn't want that to be the last time he felt his lips on hers.