Breakaway

A/N Wow, last chapter was a really tough one for me to write. (I know I said that about the chapter beforehand too, but I am not very easy on myself apparently!) I just couldn't interrupt the flow of that last chapter with a note at the end. It sucked, and unfortunately, for Beth and Daryl, while things will change, there are going to be some more sucky moments along the way. I will say there are no fake-outs; as much as I hated having to do it, in this story Glenn is dead. I just had to, no other way. Please believe me when I say I actually cried a little when writing that chapter, except for when I was writing Bob's death (I just really don't like him so he was expendable.) Again thank you for all the wonderful , encouraging and thoughtful reviews. I want to grow as a writer and sometimes I can't see where I need work unless it's pointed out to me. Have a great day! ~Jenna

Chapter 4

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It was done, Beth thought, as they drove away from the prison. It was midafternoon, and the bright sun and blue skies left her feeling mocked by the day itself. Daryl had done the right thing, and she owed him a thank you for it. Later. As it was, they buried Daddy with Lori, T-dog and the others, not that anyone would be back to visit the graves. After the burial, they had used debris from the fallen walls to spell out D+B BACK NOON on the lawn. They were both sweaty and covered in a mix of dirt and ash, and her palms were bloody and scratched from handling the rough pieces of brick. Her wound wasn't aching, other than her back she was not in any pain; now she mostly felt numb. It was a relief though, compared to the despair she had felt earlier. She had no idea how long they had been driving, it could have been 10 minutes or it could have been an hour. She hazily noticed when Daryl turned off a side road and stopped the car.

"Let's get inside." Daryl said from the driver seat. The silence from Beth was bothering him, but he recognized it as her way of grief. When he grieved, he got angry, and had been fighting it back all day – least her being quiet meant she wouldn't spark and explosion. Hell, least it meant they wouldn't get into a brawl either. Opening the door of the SUV, he scanned the area for trouble. "We're 'bout 4 miles out," He told her, even though she hadn't asked. "S'closest group of houses from the prison; some old-timer's daddy had 'em built back before the prison went up. Abandoned before everything went to hell 'cuz of it. Least that's what Rick told me when he got back from picking it." Surrounded by woods, the turn off was almost completely overgrown, only someone who knew of its existence would be able to find it.

Five blue houses sat waiting in a line, with the burnt out embers of another at the end. Figuring any was as good as the other, he walked toward the closest one. "Beth, c'mon." He called to her, still standing by the SUV's door; she nodded her head, and started following him.

`The first one still had a couple bottles of water, so at least they slacked their thirst.

The second was a complete wash – empty of anything useful and rain-damaged to boot.

In the middle, they hit pay dirt – food enough for a few days, and old hiking clothes that suited Daryl much better than the clothes he was wearing. The windows were broken, however, so after a quick change, they moved on.

"Back or forward?" Daryl asked her, trying to draw Beth out. She'd been doing her part making sure the houses were clear, but hadn't said a word unless it was a necessity. Quiet was usually what Daryl liked, but damned if silence from Beth didn't skeeve him out.

"Can't go back." Beth said glumly. She started walking toward the next house. It had some boarded up windows, whether from someone living there before or trying to survive after she couldn't tell. Either way, the overgrown vines completely covering the doors let them know whoever had done it hadn't been there in a while. She grabbed a piece and pulled, fighting back her emotions. The ivy irritated her palms, but her burning hands worked to help cauterize her heart. As a girl, she'd been entranced by the story of Mary Lennox and "The Secret Garden"; she'd even convinced her mother to grow Ivy on the garden wall. It had been a big mistake – it had quickly overtaken the area they'd meant for it, and they had spent hours tearing it down. Grabbing more ivy in her hands brought her back to that day, the vines so small and insignificant on their own, but entwined, so strong and unyielding.

Daryl stood behind her. He'd planned to help with removing the Ivy, had even pulled out his long knife to make the job easier; but the way she was pulling, he knew he'd be better off watching out for her. A few minutes later and the door been cleared, but she was still grabbing any tendrils she could reach. Desperation and anger fueling her, she kept pulling them down with all her might. He kept an eye down the street, half hoping for a fight. The quiet street irrationally disappointed him. She was slowing down, he could see her tugs growing smaller and smaller. Leaving her to finish it, he walked around the porch to the nearest open window, and gazed in. He tapped on the glass and waited a moment before leaning in. Hungry red eyes met his, and fingers with nails worn away scratched at the window. "Shit." He said, jumping back out of reflex. The window held, so he moved up closer and pulled out his flashlight to shine into the darkened room. Other than the walker still salivating at the window, it looked clear. "Done yet?" He called to Beth.

"Yeah." She said, breathing heavily. "Needed that." She swiped a piece of hair from her face and grimaced when the actions pulled something the wrong way.

"Got a walker in there." He told her, pointing through the window and walking back towards her. "Don't know 'bout the rest of the house".

"Good." She told him, before she grabbed the door and opened it.

"What the – "He said, and picked up his pace to get back to her in time. He shouldn't have bothered. Beth had stepped down off the porch, and was luring the thing out. Within moments, it had taken the bait and was slowly lumbering out. An older man in his forties, Daryl guessed, with a massive beer gut but little muscle tone; if she wanted a piece, he would let her have it. Staying close to jump in if needed, he watched the fight.

"Come here." Beth called out to the walker, getting into what he guessed was supposed to be a fighting stance.

When it first came towards her, she pushed it away, clumsily. It stumbled though, and she realized her mistake. The next time it came at her she kicked out its right knee; the thing was so far decayed the bottom half of his leg disconnected, and its kneecap went flying. He fell to the ground and she kicked his side a couple of times, her boots squelching slightly as it connected. Finally, she smashed its head in. "Not bad." He told her. "Gotta work with your stance though, and shouldn't of pushed it with your hands, it's too easy to lose control of the fight that way. Like what ya did when ya took out the knee though."

"Thanks." She told him, smiling a little. A noise behind her drew her attention back to the house. He'd been wrong, and another walker was slowly coming out. Larger than the other one, it looked like it stood 6'4 in life, though it was inches shorter now with its stooped walk. Heavily muscled, it was struggling to move, its leg twisted away at an odd angle, and it was walking on its ankle. Partially eaten, its stomach and most of the innards were gone or trailing to the floor. "Gross."

"Want me to take this one?" Daryl asked, ready to jump in if needed.

"Only if I'm about to get bit." She told him, watching it make its way towards her. She was more direct with this one, going straight for the kill with her knife jabbed up under the jaw. It was a clean kill, but as it went down, Beth did not wait to remove the knife; pulling it our as it fell blacked goo came out and splattered her "Yuck" She yelled, swiping at the muck. "Damnit!"

Daryl just laughed at her.

"Not funny." She told him, with a grimace on her face.

"Hell yes it is." He told her, walking into the house.

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"We're running out of daylight." He told her as they made their way to the last house. "Can't be too picky goldilocks"

"You can go back and sleep in that nasty house if you want to; I'm holding out for this one." She said, pointing to the last house in the line. Practically skipping up to the window, she knocked on it and waited a few minutes to see if any walkers stirred.

"Killing walkers is good for ya." He told her, please to see her mood had improved.

"Michonne said fighting can give you a high sometimes." She shrugged "I thought she was crazy, but I'm starting to get it now." She knocked at the window again.

"Never put words to it before, but know the feeling." He grinned. "S'good." Seeing her come out of her shell shock was helping his nerves too. He took out his flashlight and walked up to the door. The sun was just hitting the horizon, and even though they could see fine outside, the inside of the house would be dark.

Beth fell in behind him, keeping close. The house was eerie and silent. Going in through the living room, the house looked and smelt as if it was undisturbed. Further in, they worked quickly to clear and search the house. Nothing too surprising, but Beth was very happy to find several gallons of water in the laundry room, having that much meant she could justify really cleaning her hair. "See? It's good we stopped at this one." She said cheerfully, it felt good to be right.

It was dark by the time they finished setting up camp for the night, a quick tasteless dinner, a scrub with the lukewarm water, and then Beth went to brush out her now clean, damp hair. Finding a brush in the bathroom, she went to work unknotting it all. Eyes closed as she did it, memories of times spent with Mama brushing her hair before bedtime flittered by; memories of times with Maggie at the prison, taking turns brushing out their near matted locks brought tears to her eyes. The brush caught on a knot, and before she realized what she was doing, she had thrown the brush across the room; it hit the far wall and shattered the mirror across the way.

"What the hell?" Daryl said, glass crunching as he entered the room. He bent down and picked up the hairbrush.

"Sorry." She replied sulkily. "Got a knot and got mad." Flexing her arm a little, she explained a bit more. "All the slimes out, but I haven't been able to brush it in days, it means it's worse than normal" She fluttered her hand a little and let it fall to the floor.

"Don't do nothing halfway, do ya?" He asked her, small bits of mirror dancing in the beam of flashlight. When it shattered, glass had scattered on the tile floor all around the room. "C'mon outta there before ya cut yourself." He walked away. Beth didn't want to follow, but couldn't disagree; and he had the only brush now.

"Can I have the brush back?" She asked him, standing by the kitchen chairs.

"No." He told her, walking up behind her. "You tell anyone what I'm 'bout to say and I'll cut your tongue out, hear?"

"Okay." She replied, a little confused.

"Sit down." He waited until she did and then walked up behind her. "When I was 14 it was just me and my Pop. Merle was off in Juvie again, and Pop was a mean drunk. He was gone more often than home and I liked it that way. My Nana though, my Pop's Ma, had a stroke and ended up living with us for a coupla weeks before she died. No one else was 'round so I was the one doing the job of taking care of her. Not bad mostly, she couldn't talk and pretty much just sat in a chair looking out the window, but it meant I spent hours brushing hair – it was the only thing that calmed her down." He'd moved all her hair to one side, and pulled out one section at a time. "What is it with you girls and long hair anyways?"

"Dunno." She told him, flinching when he hit a big knot. "What is it with guys and long hair?" She countered, looking at his mess.

"Fair 'nough." He answered. "Mines just 'cuz it's easier than cutting it all the time. Never been good at cutting my own" One section done, he laid it over her other shoulder and moved onto the next section.

"That's partially it with me too." She told him. "Had long hair as a kid, but cut it short when I was 14; I was growing it out when this happened and didn't really think about it again. It's always been easier to just tie it back." She hissed when he pulled another mass of knots.

"Damn girl. When Nana came to live with us her hair hadn't been brushed in weeks and it was better than this." He said, working with his fingers to loosen a knot that could very easily pass for a birds nest. "Least its back to its normal color, dried blood doesn't suit ya." He tugged her hair a little in play.

"I cut Daddy's hair a couple of times before he decided to grow it long; I can trim yours in the morning." She offered hesitantly, "If you want."

"S'good for now." He answered. He didn't say anything else, and Beth really didn't know what to say, so she just sat there as he carefully finished up her hair. "Done." He told her a couple of minutes later, handing her the brush to finish styling it and going into the other room.

She shook her head and breathed a sigh of relief when her hair moved naturally without pulling her scalp anywhere. Still a bit damp from the washing, she grabbed the band that had been holding it up and quickly braided it. "Thank you." She said when she entered the living room a few minutes later.

"For what?" He teased her. "I didn't do nothin." He beat the pillow under his head. "Go on and choose a bedroom." He told her. "Couch'll make a good lookout spot for me. We're gonna head out in the morning, looking for trails."

"Okay." She told him, and walked away.

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The morning dawned bright and clear, though oppressively humid. Beth found Daryl still sleeping, and after a moment's contemplation, decided to leave him to it. Looking out the window, the dew on the plants and ground sparkled like diamonds, and Beth smiled at the temporary beauty. There were some roses blooming across the yard, and the sight filled her with warmth – Daddy had always given her roses for her birthday, and she could almost hear him saying, "Here, Bethy, these are for you." Appreciating the beauty before her, she said a silent thank you for the fresh start to the day. Recognizing the silent marching of the sun, she went to wake up Daryl.

Probably, she should have called his name. Possible, she should have thrown something at him. Most definitely, she thought after the fact, she should not have touched him. "Ow." She said from the ground. One moment she had been lightly shaking his shoulder, the next, she was on the floor, his knees on either side of her and his hand around her neck. Breathing heavily above her, she could see the moment his eyes widened in recognition.

"Sorry, "He said climbing off of her. "Not so good at being woken up."

"That's an understatement," she said from the floor, grabbing his hand and pulling herself up. "Just figured it was time to get going."

"Not wrong at that." He told her. "You was right to wake me, just might wanna do it from a distance next time." He told her, self-consciously brushing down his hair.

"How do you want to work it today?" She asked him, knowing they were going back to the prison but not knowing where they were heading from there.

"Prison first." He said, taking a drink of water, "Check for the others quick, then walk the road and edge of the grounds. Need to look for some sign of people." Biting into a piece of jerky, he continued. "No one made it here, or to the other houses. After that, there's nothing our group would head to other than the nearest town. That's 'bout 10 miles from here; no one would'a been able to make it there on foot the first day, means there could be trails in the woods somewhere."

"What should I do?" She asked, knowing her limited knowledge of tracking would be useless for seeingg which boot prints were important or which broken twigs meant something.

"Grounds were overrun, not gonna be able to find usable prints; too many in one area. We need to look for signs of life, thrown out water bottles, food wrappers, and crap like that." He told her. "Just as likely to see that stuff as me."

"What about fuel?" She asked, knowing the Explorer was fast approaching E.

"Gonna have to move out further." He told her, "emptied out all the cars 'round here. Gonna get pushed out to town or further just for fuel."

She bit her lip at that, knowing that the further out they went, the less likely they were to find anyone. Blinking back the tears in her eyes, she shook her head, "Let's go then."

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The trip back was quiet, and Beth kept her eyes peeled to the road longing for any signs of life, but only saw trees and bushes. The prison itself was as desolate as the day before. They dawdled for an hour past noon, wandering over the grounds and using the excuse of looking for trails as a reason to put off leaving. The tracks that covered the ground from the battle were imprinted one on top of the other; nothing stood out as something they could track. As they drove away Beth fought back the feeling she would never see her sister again.

"We'll find 'em" Daryl said from the driver's seat, guessing where her mind was.

"Do you think anyone else will come back?" She asked him, looking for a reason to have hope.

"It's a long shot." He admitted, somewhat unwillingly. "Depending on what direction they went, they'd be blocked off by the herd that went by us. We were damn lucky to get to those houses; if they had to travel further for safety, it may be too much to be able to come back." He paused for a moment, "If they don't got a car, there's not much 'round for them to hide out in; and if they do, it's the drive back and forth that'll get them same as us 'ventually."

She nodded her head at that. "We can't do this for long, can we?"

"No." He told her, shaking his head. "Week going back and forth, after that, hit the surrounding towns, leaving signs as we go too. Just gotta take a chance that someone'll come across us. Or that we meet up with one of them" He hit the steering wheel angrily. "Damn stupid of us not to have had a plan."

"No one knew what was going to happen." She told him, trying to make him feel better

"I shoulda," he said bitterly. "Got run off from the farm didn't we? Lucky as shit we found each other after that, and only 'cause of the highway and Sophia. Mix of strangers from different places at a prison and none of us thought to have a backup. Damn idiots, all of us." He ran his hands through his head roughly. "Shoulda known it wouldn't last, nothin' does."

"Maybe." She agreed; certainly, the last few years had proven that true. "We can't really blame any one person though, except the Governor. It wasn't any of our faults. In the months we lived there, losing the prison never crossed my mind; I always figured we would manage whatever came our way. Even when that big herd hit us a couple months back and the fence nearly gave out. It was one of the only times I worked the line, and I hated it; but after a couple hours they were all dead on the ground and we were back to normal. I just never thought a person would destroy us."

"More than fools, all of us." He told her, swerving around a burnt out car in the road. Beth's life may have been roses growing up, but he'd seen just how depraved a person could be, even before the end of the world had stripped many of their inhibitions.

Beth looked out the window, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a collection of junk off the road. "Wait, Daryl, go back!"

He put the SUV in reverse and backed up a ways. Examining the ground, there was a couple of wasted guns and some empty water bottles. She stayed back out of the way, as Daryl circled around the campsite, examining it from every angle. "Good eyes." He told her, catching it from the road couldn't have been easy. "This is fresh. Can't tell if it's one of ours or theirs though. The trail leads off into the woods there," he said, pointing to a section a wood a couple of feet from them. "Must've got run off the road at some point. " He looked to the sky and judged the position of the sun in the sky; they still had several hours before they needed to worry about sunset. "Wanna go for a hike?"

"Lead the way." She told him, careful to follow in step behind him.

The hike was slow going; Daryl moved deliberately and carefully, looking for every broken twig and partial footprint. After about an hour, he came to a halt, and carefully stepped back around Beth, walking back a ways. "S'nothin." He called to her. "Trail just stops." Spinning around, he let out another curse. "Where the hell they'd go?" There wasn't anything around, no water or pavement or anything else to disguise movement. Traveling back a little further, he saw a patch of discolored ground a dozen feet away, and a little ways further, a rambling path crossed theirs. He dipped his index finger into the ground, smelled it, and wiped it on his pants. Dried Blood. Looking over the amount, he noted dully that whoever had gone this way hadn't made it very far. Unfortunately for him, there was no body or belongings to guess at who it had been. "Well so much for this one." He told her, walking back the way they came.

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An hour and a half later, after being detoured around several roadblocks, they had finally made their way into town. The street was deserted; there was nothing but abandoned vehicles and debris blowing in the breeze. "Whats ya favorite color?" He asked her.

"Green." She told him, wondering why he asked. He answered her unspoken question when he pulled into the driveway of the first green house they came across.

"S'good a place as any." He told her, shutting off the engine. A storm was coming through, he could tell by the dark clouds growing on the horizon. It was making his hair stand on end. Hopefully, they could be in a house before the storm hit. Walking up the drive to the front of the house, they knocked; when nothing stirred, they went in through the unlocked door. "Gotta love it when they make it easy" he said, twisting the handle with ease. It was dim inside; the curtains drawn for privacy meant little light filtered through. Daryl switched on the flashlight; it would be better to use it than risk a walker passing by outside seeing something though the window.

"Storms moving quickly." Beth said, still standing in the doorway. Though they would normally have several hours of daylight left, it was dark as twilight, and fat droplets were starting to leave half dollar sized marks on the pavement. A small flash of light, and thunder rumbled miles away. Her skin tingled with the electricity in the air; it didn't matter what they found, baring being overrun with walkers they were staying here for the night. Looking above them, she could see the dark clouds had advanced rapidly, or formed from the air above them; the sky was undulating with energy. Down the road, she saw a walker ambling along; she backed away slowly, closed and locked the door.

"Downstairs' clear" Daryl told her, coming back in from the kitchen. "Stairs are on the other side of the house." He told her, shining the beam of the flashlight across the room. They moved quietly, flashes of lighting helped to illuminate their way.

Beth was nervous. For one thing, the thunder put her on edge; once it burst she would feel better, but the eerie calm before the storm had bothered her even before the dead started walking. For another, the house reeked. Not in a spoiled food kind of way, but in a 'there's a walker waiting to jump out and kill us' kind of way. She knew just because it hadn't come out yet, didn't mean it wasn't there. Following Daryl down the hallway, she fought back nausea as the smell grew stronger and stronger. The lighting was coming on quickly now, bright enough and often enough so that they hardly needed the flashlight. Turning the corner to finish the climb, Beth took a quick breath and covered her mouth at the sight that greeted her.

They had found the source of the smell.

Strung up from separate ropes, two small, formerly blonde females were struggling, reaching with their hands to do whatever they could to get to the fresh meat. "Damn morons." Daryl said, looking at the scene in front of him. "If you're gonna opt out, least do it in a way where ya don't come back." He shook his head and walked up to the closer one. He grabbed a foot and grimaced when it came off in his hand. Throwing it down the stairs past Beth, he reached higher on the moving body and gave it a big pull. It stayed where it was, twisting crazily and near screaming with rage to get at him. He moved on to the other, who was smaller, but strangely less decayed; its foot stayed on when he tugged, and it didn't go anywhere.

"What are you doing?" Beth asked, thoroughly grossed out.

"Checking ta make sure they'll stay up there." He told her. "Good surprise for anyone that comes knocking."

"That's disgusting," she told him. "At least put them down so we won't have to worry about them."

"That's why I tugged on 'em" He answered back. "Not going anyway till they rot a little more." He pushed the closest one to the side and stepped around it as it swayed.

"Still." She told him, crossing her arms. "It's not right to leave them this way. Please."

He stood there for a minute. "Arrow for an answer." He said somberly, flashing back to a conversation a year and a half and a lifetime ago. "Why's it bother you so much?"

She thought for a moment, and gathered her thoughts. Lighting streaked past them and the peal of thunder caused her to jump a little. "It could have happened to me." She said finally, softly. She took a breath and continued. "I wasn't in a good place before this all happened, and then losing Mama and Shawn…" she shook her head. "Only thing that got me past it was Daddy and Maggie. I came close to losing it again when you were at the farm, though Andrea helped me more than she ever realized." A pause again, staring at the grotesque show before her. "I don't know that I ever would have done it hanging, but I could easily have gone another way that would have had the same result. Knowing what I know now, I would hope someone wouldn't leave me like that." She shrugged and crossed her arms. "Besides, I'm tired and those things are going to make noise all night, and I want to sleep at some point."

"Fair enough." He told her, and shot the first one before bringing the crossbow back down.

"What about the other?" She asked him, bothered by the groans and moans still coming out of it.

"Need to earn another arrow." He told her.

"You haven't asked me a question yet." She retorted back.

He thought for a minute, and a flash of lighting temporarily blinded him with its closeness, the thunder was so loud it rattled the windows and he felt the vibrations in his feet. "Do I need to worry about you deciding to opt out again?" He asked hesitantly, not wanting to, but needing to know the answer.

"No," she told him, shaking her head. "I'm past that point now; even with everything that's happened."

"Ya sure?" He asked her, thinking about how bad things were, and how much worse they could get.

"I've seen that things, no matter how bad, can always get better." She put a piece of hair back behind her ear, and looked out the window; thick ribbons of rain were making their way down the panes. "I still have faith that this is all going to work out in the end, somehow." She looked down at her feet, waiting for him to disagree with her.

He paused to think about what she had said, "Might need to lend me some of that faith sometime." He told her, raising the crossbow and putting the walker in its sights.