Warning: Mentions of sexual abuse (from the Grady guys)

It was getting dark as two of them made their way through the city; a city neither of them had ever visited before the dead started walking. They were both scared, keeping low as they moved, careful to not attract the attention of the dead or of any passing police car, and hoping, just hoping, that they could find somewhere to stay safe for the night and think on things the next day. Their plan had been simple enough. Get the elevator key, scale down the shaft and then get across the car park and out of the gate. It was a plan so simple that it had worked; they were out but now… they were possibly now in more danger than they had been before. Although neither truly believed that. The dangers out here were relatively simple – avoid the dead, avoid being scratched, avoid being bitten, of being eaten and die horrifically. If only they had a gun with two bullets and they would have no fear of how to die. But they did not and there was always the chance of going back there, of being forced to have a bite cut off, of working to pay back the cost of the treatment for which you never asked, of being raped and forced to perform sex acts as further payment and protection.

It said a lot about the world when Beth would rather be eaten or eat a bullet than go back to that hospital, so she followed Noah through a city he had at least been in before the hospital forced his father's death and kept him working off a debt he should never have had. Once before, he had failed in this city. He had failed in whatever he had been doing with his father. They had been injured, the police had found them and made Noah their bitch. Was she a fool for following him a second time?

Were they both fools for not discussing the plan further than make it out of the elevator shaft and past the gates?

It had been less than a week of Beth's incarceration at Grady, an incarceration because it was more of a prison than the prison Beth had lived happily in for months. Armed police guards, cells with uncomfortable beds and solid doors, no way out, no peace or joy, and no one asking for Beth to sing. Of course, in her week there, no one even knew that Beth could sing. Why would they? Why would she even consider singing for them? No one in that hospital was deserving of her singing, not when the last person she had sung for was Daryl, she could still hear him shouting after that car she had been bundled in to.

She only knew it had been less than a week because Daryl had shown her the moon that night as they had sat outside the shack, both more than a little drunk on moonshine and he had described the phases of the moon to her. It was not exact, especially not for her eyes, but she had seen the changes and had counted three nights before this one; Beth refused to believe it had been longer than a week. She refused to believe that she had been a prisoner for that long. It was probably why she had agreed to the escape plan without really planning further than that, all she had wanted was to stop being a prisoner. Just as, with Daryl, she had wanted to stop being another dead girl in his eyes. Beth was starting to wonder if she had ever been that to him, now that she knew him better.

And she knew him well enough that she knew he would not be about to give up on her, but after a week, in the city, well, her trail would be cold and how was he supposed to try and find her after that long? Whilst she knew that he would follow her, that he would try and find her, she also knew that he was no Superman, he was close, but he was just a man and there was no way he would be able to find her. Not after this long. Beth had not been content to remain a prisoner, or to wait on a rescue because maybe Daryl was right, maybe no one else had survived the prison, maybe Daryl had not survived chasing the car, maybe Noah was all that she had left now.

It was all on him now, Noah, Beth thought as she set her eyes on the man huddled down in front of her. He knew the city better than her. He knew the route to his home in Virginia. From here, Beth was unsure she could even find her way back to the farm let alone the funeral home or prison. There was no way of heading back, moving backwards through her own history because no one else would have even if she did know the way. Or could find a map. Noah though, Noah knew his way home and it was walled, he said, safe. So it was as good a place as any to go.

One day, in the future, she would find out about them, maybe even find them. She had no idea how, but Beth knew it would happen. No one, not even the upstanding citizens of Grady would diminish her ability to hope; Daryl had tried when drunk and yelling, and he had failed. Everyone would fail at crushing her. It could be in another twenty years, maybe after a cure was found and civilization rebuilt itself, or because enough people found a safe-haven, a truly safe place, and Beth would meet a young girl, dark haired with a look of Lori and Carl about her, a feel of Rick about her with the skills of Daryl and the humour of Glenn and Beth would know. Because they were all safe together, somewhere outside of Atlanta, Beth felt it in her bones just as she knew that Judith would pick up the best from all of them. One night, Beth would hear the young girl singing and it would be something Beth had sung all those nights at the prison. Beth would join in and they would both cry, realizing who the other was and then Judith would tell Beth all about their family.

"Come on," Noah hissed and Beth noticed a Walker stop and jerk his head in their direction. Silently she cursed Noah's voice, following him as he made his way further along the road. It was her that heard the noise first, a car rapidly approaching and she grabbed Noah's arm, pulling him behind a dumpster as she peeked out to see if they were in any danger. Instinctually she went to hold her breath, but instead she shallowed her breaths to keep it even and quiet. The Walker who heard Noah had not seemed to follow them and she watched as the car rounded a corner after zooming past. It was one of Grady's cars and the sight of it boiled her blood, made her sweat in fear. There was no way she was going back there.

She moved to pull on Noah's arm, to pull him away as Walkers were being attracted to the Grady car and a gunshot rang out, which caused Beth to flinch, but she hesitated when she heard the low grumble of another car. They needed to stay hidden if a back-up car were following. The engine stopped and the car was across the road, not far from where she and Noah were hidden. Squinting her eyes in the darkness, Beth tried to make out details of the car that, so far, was managing to stay out of the way of the Walkers, but she could barely see anything in the minimal light. Just a few shadows. The driver tried to start the engine up again, but it would not start; Beth remained glued to the black outline of the driver. From her distance, Beth heard nothing as the driver opened the door and exited the car, but then she felt her heart stop followed by a rush of blood to her ears as the shadowed driver moved towards the back of the vehicle. There was a bag hanging from the driver's hand and what was clearly a bow held in the other.

Could it be…?

She was too far away to make any noise, to get his attention, even a low whistle could bring a Walker towards them. A Walker bustled past, dragging a foot as it did and Beth shifted backwards in to Noah, both of them held their breath and Beth was sure that her thumping heart beat would give away their location.

The Walker continued past and Beth slowly released her breath still wondering what was the closer call – the officer a street away or the Walker less than a meter away. She ran straight out on to the street, hoping to catch a better sight of the car's driver but there was nothing aside from Walkers and they were going to scent her. There was no way to go after whoever the driver was, and anyone could carry a bow in the damn apocalypse, and he could be just as dangerous as the cops that would not go easy on a re-offender. Their joint recapture would surely lead to Noah's death and what could be considered a fate worse than that for Beth.

Noah was a step away from her, pulling at her arm in the opposite direction when suddenly Beth knew where they could spend the night so she grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him towards the broken-down car, popping the trunk. She nodded her head at it and Noah looked at her in confusion.

"Get in," she ordered, ripping an arm off the awful blue scrubs she was wearing. There was no bandana to secure the door once they were inside. Oh, what she would give to see that disgusting, smelly and stained red rag. With a heavy reluctance, Noah bent to climb in and not a moment too soon as far as Beth was concerned. It pained her that she was starting to have thoughts of what she would need to do to survive on her own, wondering if she could sacrifice someone, him, to save herself. No, there was no way that Beth would succumb to the depths the world was made of since the turn.

"Oww," Noah flinched as he caught himself on the broken tail light and Beth ripped off her right arm scrubs to tightly wrap it around his arm. It was nothing really, but there was blood on the broken glass, some on the grey concrete. Shit, she thought, fresh blood. It was too late now. Climbing in after him, Beth made herself as comfortable as possible and secured the latch with the torn off arm. It would have to do. Her foot kicked out to get his attention and their eyes just managed to meet in the darkness, she tried to tell him to rest, sleep, and she would take first watch but all she felt were his shoulders shrugging. A week was not long enough for him to be able to read her eyes.

Eventually she fell asleep and she woke when something jostled the car, both of them startled awake. Okay, so she needed more skill at taking turns to keep watch. Releasing the latch, Beth opened the trunk just a slither and saw that the sun was starting to rise, spreading an other worldly glow across the concrete. There was only one Walker within her eyeline so she knew they had to take this chance.

"Hey," she whispered. "You know where we can go?"

"Some buildings we can check out," he replied with an equally quiet voice, thick with deep sleep because he was used to weeks of sleep in the hospital where there was no imminent danger. In Beth's short incarceration, she had never managed to lose her guard to sleep deeply or peacefully or for longer than four hours. Her body clock was still on survival mode unlike all of those in the hospital. "Can scout for supplies, more knives." They each had a knife, but that was all. A spare was always handy and water would quickly become a necessity. Silently she followed him through the city, knowing that there was no way to track Daryl, not through a city.

If it even was him.

She hoped it was him, hoped that he had come to rescue her, but she already knew that she had rescued herself. Remembering his training and how she had quipped at him that soon she would not need him anymore; Beth wondered if it were true.

He had not been able to teach her that much in their few days running, where she had helped him to bury his past, to consider living and he started teaching her to survive in this new world. No, if it were Daryl, there was no way for her to find him but he was a tracker. If she left enough of a trail, he would find her. She knew it. That was always the best way with a tracker, a hunter. As she followed Noah through the dead city, or the city of the dead, she was not sure, Beth left whatever marks that she could. Just little things. She scuffed her shoes through any wet blood or dirt that she found, made a partial foot print clear enough for him but hopefully partial enough for any Grady cops to not notice or care about. On certain surfaces, if they needed to wait and hide, let a Walker pass, Beth would make a scratched mark. Not anything so obvious as her name or first initial, but she did use his. The letter D had no significance to the cops, other than for their own illustrious leader and why would anyone be leaving a trail for her? Any time that there were growing weeds, Beth would break off just one strand, tear off one and tie a knot as they crouch-ran through buildings and drop it further on.

Beth had to hope that it was Daryl that found the clues, that it was not the cops, that Daryl would understand every signal and that the cops would be oblivious. Because Noah was adamant that the cops would be after them, needed them to return to pay their debts and to show the others that there was no hope in running.

No way in Hell that she was going back to Grady.

The sun was not even half way across the sky when Noah ushered them in to a building, a large open foyer that looked like every inch was metallic. It was modern and there was a small bank of elevators – three opposite the entry doors with a large silver and glass reception desk in between. On a wall to the side there was a list of twenty floors, a name by each one; Beth could not make out any pattern to the company names. Noah moved through the reception area without looking back or saying anything. His movements were rigid and controlled, rushed in the same way they had been on the journey here but with no panic now. There was something of a purpose in his stride that Beth was unaware of; she followed him in to the stairwell none the less. With her knife raised and ready, Beth was on edge as he opened the door almost carelessly and stepped in to the bright open stair well. It was surrounded by glass on three sides, open to the outside world.

"Noah," she spoke quietly reluctantly stepping on to the first step. He paused on the fifth and looked back down at her, his eyes focusing on her shoulder. "This ain't a good idea." Their movement would be noticed and seen by anything outside for far too far a distance than Beth cared to consider. Walkers were one thing, surely their vision would not stretch too far, but the cops patrolling the city? They would see the movement easily. Pressing a hand against the glass, Beth realized it was stronger than any of the windows back at the farm, but anything would crack under enough pressure and once the glass broke the Walkers would fill up the stairs leaving them stuck with only three elevator shafts for their escape.

"No other way up there. Unless you wanna be scaling an elevator shaft in the dark?" Continuing up, Beth remained paused until he added. "Only going to the third floor, too low for cops to notice unless they're on the same block. Longer you wait there, the higher the chance is." She scraped her boot on the edge of the door before letting it quietly close behind her – another clue for Daryl. She hoped, anyway and dashed up the stairs as quickly as she could on stealthy feet, following Noah on to the third floor and quickly scoping out the fire escapes or any other possible means of exit.

He led her to a large glass door not far from the elevator doors. One of the doors was smashed, the broken glass still covering the shiny white flooring. They moved past another reception desk, another glass and metal one, but behind that one was a plain door that Noah opened with at least a little bit of caution.

"It's clear," he said, pushing the door open wide and gesturing with an arm for Beth. "Ladies first."

With a smile, Beth entered the offices and was amazed at how different it looked to the rest of the office block. Her jaw dropped slightly as she stood and turned slowly in a circle. Everything within this office was dark wood, old feeling and the carpet was dark but homely feeling. There was a large mahogany desk and big leather chair. The far wall was covered floor to ceiling in books, two leather couches facing each other in front of the books and a small low table in between. Opposite the wall of books was a wall of windows that Beth ignored aside for the light it allowed to pour in to the place. At that moment Beth could almost forget that the outside world existed. She felt as if she could immerse herself in this room and just pretend everything else did not exist. Thought she knew that she did need to remain anchored in reality and she noted a door behind the desk, a simple and plain wooden door.

Beth made a move to open it, to check the other side and a second escape route when she realized that Noah was routing around in the desk drawers. Her brow furrowed and she subconsciously bit her lower lip. "Noah," she asked, "you been here before?"

Pulling two water bottles out of the bottom drawer, he threw one to her and she barely caught it with her knife still out. "Yeah. Before Grady."

"What's through there?" She nodded her head at the door and he smiled slightly.

"Dude who worked here made himself a little den back there. Bed, toilet, sink, bare essentials and no window, but it's comfy for sleeping. Or some privacy."

"You slept here?"

He jerked his head at the two couches and she saw the bunched up blankets, the books open on the low table. It was all covered over with dust. "You and your daddy?"

Noah made a noise that sounded like a confirmation and Beth realized why he had turned rigid when they entered the place; this was the last place he had been with his family and he had lost his daddy. No matter how hard Beth had tried to convince Daryl to check back towards the prison for other tracks, he was adamant that it was a lost cause with all the Walkers passing through, she had never really thought how she would feel seeing the prison again. The place that she had called home for months. No, a place that she had helped make a home, where she had been given Judith to care for, where she had sung to a new family, a growing family that would never be able to replace Shawn or her mama, but it was a family that she loved none the less and she would give anything to be with again. But to see that place again without her family by her side? To see what had become of the place she had been happy with Maggie and Daddy? To see where her daddy had been killed?

Beth could not even begin to comprehend what that would feel like, what Noah was feeling, because any time the thought of her daddy or even Maggie, who she knew deep in her heart could not be dead, came to her she pushed those thoughts away. She would not dwell on the bad, not when she had been running with Daryl, not when she was imprisoned and on guard at Grady and certainly not now, running once more. Perhaps if Daryl had been truthful about staying at the funeral home, about staying there, together, maybe then she would have allowed herself to think about what could happen. It would have taken time, the wounds too raw and the danger of them never healing was still almost too great.

"I, uh, I'll check out the bedroom. Dyin' for a wee, too." As if on cue, she skipped foot to foot for a moment although her bladder was not nearly full. She saw Noah nod as his eyes remained focused on the couches and she went to check out the bed and bathroom, leaving the water bottle on the desk and keeping her knife in her free hand. Straight through the door there was a very small corridor with two doors. Beth opened both quietly, the first led to a small wash room with a toilet and sink, a shower cubicle with a towel still hanging up. There were two toothbrushes and half a squeezed toothpaste on the sink. Ignoring the other door, Beth felt drawn to the toothbrushes and stepped in front of the sink, fingers gingerly reaching out to the bristles on them. Both of them were dry. Of course they were, why would they not be? Noah had given no indication that anything seemed different or out of place from when he had last been here; no one else had found this place to hold up in.

Then her eyes caught a glance of her own reflection in the mirror and she took a deep breath in, tears filling her eyes as she released the breath. It was hard to forget the cast on her wrist, especially when Noah was throwing water bottles at her when she had a knife in her only real free hand. What it did seem was easy to forget were the two cuts to her face, held together with stitches that would dissolve given enough time. Her wrist would heal and even if it healed wrong, no one would ever know. Everyone would see the damage to her face. Everyone that she met would stare at her, have their brows furrow in concern or curiosity and Beth would flush wondering if they were brave enough to ask: How did you get those? Because she would never be embarrassed about having them. You could not be that vain in this world anymore.

Maybe her physical, visual scars would make her family realize she was more than a teen mom because they sure as hell screamed that she was a survivor now.

She blinked the tears away and went to check the bedroom, her eyes used to the darkness of these windowless rooms, but she moved in to the room and turned on a battery powered lamp on the bedside table. A small laugh escaped her when she realized that when Noah had said the room was simple she had taken that to mean a small bed, for one, but it was possibly the biggest bed she had ever seen. There was a wardrobe in the far corner and Beth almost ran to it, hoping that there could something for her to wear other than the awful, and now sleeveless, blue scrubs. The office, on the whole, felt like it belonged to a man and she doubted that any business man in Atlanta would be small enough for their clothes to fit her, but maybe even a plain shirt would do.

Her hand hit the handle of the wardrobe door and suddenly Beth tensed. There might have been a noise. It might have been nothing, but suddenly questions started filling Beth's head. Why would Noah and his daddy sleep on the couches if there was a big enough bed? How had no one else managed to find this place? But the question that echoed most was, had the cops at Grady learnt of this place after they caught Noah the first time?

She did run this time and threw open the door back into the main office, her eyes squinting in the bright light as she came to a halting stop.

Noah was staring down the barrel of a gun, one of the Grady cops holding it and another standing next to him, a smirk on his face as he watched Beth. She almost cursed out loud.

"Now," the cop without the gun said. Beth had not met either of these two. She had no idea who they were or anything about them. That put her at the disadvantage and she had no idea how to try and gain one. "We just knew Noah would come back here, but figured you," he waved his own knife in Beth's direction, "would have known better. Surviving out here for so long. I imagine you only survived this long because someone did it for you." He grinned and a shiver ran down Beth's spine at his insinuation. "Personally, I'm fine with letting you both go."

Beth huffed a skeptical laugh at that, wanting to cross her arms, but she could not with the cast and her knife. "And what will Dawn saw about that?"

"We'll deal with her," the cop promised. "But I can only let you go if you pay me first."

"All I got's this knife. Nothin' else to pay ya with."

"If I remember right, there's a nice big ol' bed back there." Beth's head shook on instinct. "Or I'll take his life, let you walk. Your choice."

"Beth," Noah pleaded and she had no idea what he was pleading for – his life, her innocence? Her heart was thumping in her chest, in her ears and her stomach, although mostly empty, began churning and she thought she was going to bring up all the bile she could manage. There really was only one option, though it was not as if she could even trust these guys to keep to their word, but at least Noah could get her out of the city. Dawn would give up eventually, right? When they got far enough away from Grady and Atlanta, Dawn would stop wasting resources just for the two of them. She was a survivor now, she knew she could and would survive, but she was unsure she could survive alone yet.

There was only one option. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry and the blood in her veins icy cold, and nodded at the cop.