Chapter 4: Babe if you could know, you would hatch a plan

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot. J

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. It really means a lot. I also would like you to know that I take each of your reviews into regard with my writing.

"What's going on here?" A rough voice demanded from the mist. Daryl took a step back, and Beth dropped to her feet. The leaves crunched under Rick's boots, and he stared at the pair. It was at that moment, Beth knew what she had to do.

"What's going on here?" Rick repeated himself, a bit more menacingly. Beth took one last look of longing at Daryl, and he met her gaze. Tears threatened to spill over her lashes, and she took a deep breath.

She spun around, and she made a break for it. She ran as fast as she could almost stumbling over her own feet. "Beth!" Daryl yelled after her, but she paid no heed. She fell against the fence breathless, tears rushing down her face.

He would never understand why she had done what she had, but she did it to keep him safe. She had fallen in love with the only man strong enough to protect the group, and she was deathly afraid that he had fallen for her.

She heard footsteps coming up the way, and she wiped off her face with her arm. She straightened out her shirt and she didn't want to wait for the person to come through the gray. She bounded away to the prison and soon she was out of breath.

She knew what she had to do, whether she would be able to survive or not. It had to be done. When she had reached her cell, she closed her door and she pulled out her notebook and pencil.

She began to scribble out four letters to Daryl, Rick, Maggie, and the rest of the group.

Daryl, Her hands were shaking as she wrote, and she took a few more deep breaths.

I'm sorry. Don't come looking for me.

Beth shook her head, and she crossed out the last sentence.

I'm gone, you need to forget me.

She crumpled up the piece of paper and she tossed against the wall angrily. She ripped out a new piece of paper, and she furiously wrote,

Daryl,

Forget my face.

Satisfied, she folded the paper in half and she finished the other three letters. She put the letters out on her bed, and she realized she had to come to terms with her decision. She had to leave.

It wasn't some silly little romantic whim. She didn't have to leave because her heart couldn't take the love. She had to leave because once she was actually happy, people started dying.

That was proved with Jimmy, Zach, and now Noah.

She had lied to Daryl that night. He was never Zach's friend. In fact, the two hardly spoke to each other. A year after Zach had passed on, Beth and Noah started to hang out and after a while one thing led to another. She didn't love him per se, but she cared for him deeply.

And now he was dead. She couldn't be so selfish as to be with Daryl and essentially kill him too. Be it Walkers or a murderer.

It was her life and short term relationship with Daryl or the rest of the lives in the group including Judith. She could never be so selfish, and so she had to leave. Her even being there at that moment was putting the lives of the group in danger.

Taking a deep breath, Beth donned her warmest jacket and she picked up her pack filled with her gun, knife, and various other things she would need. She took one last look at her bed, and she turned to leave.

There was a shadow at her door, and she squinted to see who it was. Something came down on her head hard, and all she could see were swirls of black and white. Then the alluring darkness overtook her vision.

"What was that about?" Rick questioned, raising an eyebrow. Daryl shook it off and he turned off all emotion. "Nothin'." He grumbled, as he stalked off away from the prison.

Rick jogged to keep pace with him. "What?" He asked, caught off guard. Daryl paused and he spun around to face Rick. "I said Nothin' an' I mean nothin'." He answered, poking Rick in his chest. Rick slapped away his finger.

"Alright. Alright. I get it." Rick snapped, and he pulled up his pants. Glenn's head popped out from the window of the watchtower. "How was watch?" Rick asked him, and he grinned. "Great." He winked, and Daryl cringed. "That's great an' all but I gotta get goin'." Glenn threw down a pebble at Daryl, and it hit him on the shoulder.

Daryl glared up at him. "What the hell do you want?" He snarled up at the man. Glenn pulled back slightly, and he frowned. "How's Beth doin'?" Glenn called, a hint of mocking in his voice. Rick whipped around, and he pointed at Glenn. "What's he talkin' about?" He questioned. Daryl shrugged, and he brushed him off.

"No. No. No. What happened to Beth, Daryl? What did you do?" He demanded. Rick began to pace back and forth in frustration. Glenn inched his way back inside, aware of the incoming destruction.

"Nothing happened to Beth. She's fine. Just a little pissed at me is all." He finally admitted, and he leaned against the wall in a huff. Rick scrunched his eyebrows together, pulling an awkward face.

"What reason does she have to be pissed at you?" Daryl lit up cigarette and he puffed on it angrily. He scoffed. "You sure do have a lot of questions, dontcha?"

Rick groaned, and he stopped his pacing. "Daryl, I don't give a damn about what you do, but if it affects this group I need to know." He ran a hand through his hair, and he let out a huff of air.

"Well, don't worry." Daryl began, flicking his cigarette. "You won't have any more problems. I won't be bothering her again." Rick put his hands up in frustration, and guffawed.

Daryl sighed, and he continued down the path. "Where ya going?" Rick called after him, angrily. Daryl waved him off, and he whipped out his crossbow.

"Huntin." He yelled over his shoulder, and he threw open the fence. The fence reverberated against the wooden spikes, and he slammed it back into place. All Rick could do was stare after him confused as hell.

Maggie wandered through the prison, and she wrapped herself up tightly into her parka. She sat down on the swing the group made in honor of Hershel's death. She felt the breeze through her hair, and she closed her eyes.

She was a dead woman walking. The words rang so true, Maggie almost giggled aloud.

"What are you so happy about?" Michonne asked, standing from a distance. Maggie shrugged, and she stretched out. "I just remembered a joke Carol said the other day." Michonne raised an eyebrow, and she cracked a smile. "Really?" She questioned. "I don't remember any joke."

Maggie rubbed the back of her neck with the palm of her hand. "It was the one about uh.. You know. The milkman, and the mother." Michonne smiled knowingly, and she rounded the swing to stand in front of her.

"You hang around with Glen too much. You're getting to be a bad a liar as he is." She chuckled, and she leaned against the post on one arm. "What is it?" She prodded. Maggie left out a sigh, and she brought a delicate hand up against her lips.

Michonne widened her eyes in surprise. "That bad, huh?" Maggie nodded, and she straightened out her sleeves. Michonne sat down next to Maggie and she placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

Maggie took a shaky breath, and she closed her eyes tightly.

"Michonne… I'm pregnant."

A faint scream echoed through-out the prison and its yard. Michonne and Maggie's heads snapped up at the noise. They knew that voice.

They took off at a full run, and they met Rick and Daryl at her cell with Carol and Glenn arriving a few moments later.

Shakily Maggie pushed open her door, and the rest held back a little with Daryl resting against the back wall. There was nothing to be found. No blood. No hints of struggle, but instead they found her pack laying on the ground and four neatly folded up letters. The first three were labeled Daryl, Rick, and Maggie accordingly. The fourth was left blank.

Daryl scrambled with dirty fingers to rip his open, and when he had read what was on the page he nearly collapsed onto the ground. He managed by some force greater than his own to keep his feet planted firmly and he kept his face neutral.

Maggie opened hers with trembling hands, and she read aloud.

My dear sister,

I know this will come as a shock to you, but I'm doing this for the better of the group. By the time you read this, I'll be long gone.

I love you, Mags.

-Beth.

Michonne tightened her grip on her Katana, and she huffed out a breath of air angrily. "She ran away?" Rick shook his head, and he sat down on her bed. "I think she was plannin' on leaving, but I don't think she made it." He whispered, silently reading and re-reading his letter.

Rick,

You probably have a lot of questions, and I'm sorry I'm not there to answer them.

Yes, I'm leaving.

No, it's not your fault, and it ain't your duty to come find me either.

Please take care of Judith and Carl. They really need their daddy.

With love,

Beth

Rick passed his letter over to Daryl and Rick held his face in his hands. Daryl opened the crinkled letter, and that's when he lost it. "You? She gives you a whole goddamn speech and all she gives me is three measly little words?"

Carol put a warm hand on Daryl's bare shoulder. "Calm down, I'm sure she has her reasons." Daryl glared at Carol, not speaking. Carol got anxious and she quickly took her hand away. "Sorry." She mumbled.

He threw down both letters, and he walked away quickly. "Where are you going?" Michonne demanded. "I'm gonna find her. The track has to be there, it hasn't even been an hour yet." Michonne nodded, and she hurried to catch up with him. "I'll go with ya." She declared.

Rick looked at Maggie and Glenn for an answer, and they nodded. "We'll stay here and hold down the fort." Glenn began, and he held Maggie close. "If anyone can find my baby sister, it's you guys." Rick nodded, and he stopped. "Will you?"

Maggie smiled and she rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "Yes, Judith and Carl will be fine. Now go." Rick checked his holster, and he found his gun nestled closely to his side. It was fully loaded as per usual. Rick pulled up his loose pants once more, and he ran to catch up to the guys.

Darkness. She was laying on something cold, and soft. It was unmistakably soft. But the smell… It was a mixture of death and mold. Beth sat up abruptly, coughing. Her eyes were open, but all she saw was the black.

She pulled her knees up against her, and she sat back against the cold wall. Stone, perhaps? She squinted her eyes, trying to see something. Anything.

There was a faint outline of the mattress she had been laying on, and another one that was across the room. They were side by side, and just before them was a thin strip of light coming from under the silver metal door.

This was bad.

"Hello?" She whispered, but there came no reply. Someone was there with her, and she hoped to God it wasn't a walker. She checked her pockets for a flashlight, and that's when she noticed the blood.

It was soaked into her t-shirt, and it was coming down from a cut on her forehead. Her hair was crusted and matted down to her head. She wasn't wearing shoes. They had taken her shoes. "Hello?" She tried again, her voice desperately needing to be cleared.

"Well, hello there, my southern peach." His voice was unmistakable. Light, and gravelly at the same time. Melodic and confident. The lights flipped on, and Beth shielded her eyes.

She was in a room no bigger than one at a cheap motel. The door was barred shut, and it had no windows. The bathroom was closed off, and there was no closet. Just a couple of hangers next to the door. The walls were made of stone, like some type of Prostitute dream house for creeps like the Governor. The Governor.

He sat in front of the only exit in the room. His light gray suit clung to him as if it were one size too tight, and his red tie was dirty and torn on the side. He leaned on one arm of his luxurious chair, his legs were crossed, and he peered at Beth out of his one good eye.

When she took notice of him, he smiled. An evil smile that was both inviting, and fear evoking. "What do you want?" Beth choked out, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. Phillip's grin widened to impossible lengths, almost stretching all the way up to his ears.

"No, no, no, Honey. It's not what I want. It's the will of God." The lights above them flickered and buzzed, threating to turn off at any moment. "T-the will of God?" She questioned incredulously. "Who are you to say what the will of God is?"

The Governor stopped abruptly, smile melting from his face for only a second. "You'll know in time. For now, I want you to squirm. I want you to wonder. I want you to be afraid." He sat forward in his chair, and he placed his hands on knees.

Beth tried to find her strength, and she tried to stand and laugh and let the Governor know that Beth Greene was NOT woman to be messed with. She found she couldn't. All she could do was sit in her dark corner, and cower. Like the pathetic thing I am. She realized.

"Never." She said the word unsteadily, and she knew she hadn't convinced him. "Oh really?" He chuckled. He crawled out from his chair, and he swaggered over to her. Beth flinched and she felt his warmth so close to hers. It was then that she realized the entire room was cold. Below freezing at least.

He bent down until his lips brushed against her ear. "I will make you feel fear you didn't even realize existed." She reared back her hand and she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. He lingered for a moment almost as surprised as she was, and he slowly turned back to face her.

"Well, my southern peach, it seems like it's going to be a rough couple of days for you." He began, and he sat down next to her. "You and I are going to be spending quite a bit of time together." He reached up, and he stroked her blood streaked hair.

She cringed, and she clenched her eyes shut. "They'll come find me you know. Daryl and Rick." She warned. He lifted her chin so that she when she opened her eyes she had no choice other than to look at him. "Says the little run away." He smirked.

He sighed as he gazed at her, and he forcefully wrapped her into his arms. "That was so very valiant of you. Leaving your dear beloved behind so you could save the others. He doesn't care for you. Not like I can." Beth froze and she went rigid against him.

"What?" She questioned, ripping herself away from him. He stared her down, and he lifted up his eye-patch to reveal a small space of clean skin and a scar.

"I see things with this eye. Things that no mortal was ever supposed to see. I see the end, and believe me, My Southern Peach." He made his hand into a gun and he put it to her head as he pulled the invisible trigger. "It's gonna end with a bang."