Flashback - Four Days Ago.

The trees stood mute in the humid air that encased everything in Alexandria that day, even the birds weren't chirping as much as they usually did. The flowers laid on the table, their once beautiful petals curled at the edges from the summer heat, already their stalks were limp and when she picked them up their heads fell with gravity towards the table.

Deanna watched Reg intently his skin glistening, the nape of his neck damp as he lifted the new metal slat into place with the help of their son Spencer. She smiled warmly, knowing that this was becoming something they were all proud of.

She sighed a contented sigh popping down the front porch steps of her modest home, the heat hit her like a train. Damn it was blistering. Deanna started to wonder if it was healthy for her family to be doing manual labour in this weather? Knowing Pete wouldn't be happy if she bought a collapsed Reg to his door she bustled on over, smiling at the residents that milled around; A couple of children kicked a ball her way and she threw it back with fine tuned skill.

"I know, I know. We'll be in soon sweetheart."

Deanna smiled brightly, shooting a laugh at her apparent psychic husband. He always had the ability to read her expression, even when she was blank.

Her smile was shortened a bit by the distinct hum of a car. Heath and the others weren't due back for a while, it made her panic..something could have happened, they weren't exactly inept at fighting.

At a second glance she spotted Nicholas and Aaron at the gate talking to each other in wary voices. From here she couldn't make out what was happening but more people filed in, one after the other..

They had visitors.

Present Day

Daryl hardly remembered the first day they arrived at Alexandria three days prior, but what he did remember stuck out; He was standing in front of the red gates, staring at the pristine white house's standing proudly away from them. They stretched around in a bend, that was almost untouched by the stench of death and decay that happened from day to day. It made him sick. These people looked out of place, wrong for the world how it is now. They weren't strong; she was strong.

Daryl sniffed gruffly, pushing the memory away as he rubbed his hands across his pants, wiping off the blood that'd accumulated there earlier in the day. Aaron and himself had been sent on a recruiting run, saying the run went badly would be the understatement of the fucking year!

It'd all gone by in a whirlwind; Aaron's chatter, the man in the red poncho...the trucks. It was chaos. He felt useless, more useless than the night at the country club. There was nothing they could have done but run, until a stranger with the stick saved their asses. On first glance Daryl thought he was some sort of ninja, flying out from the building to pop each one of those creepy bastards in the face with his killer stick. Daryl's head was spinning as he looked at the map the ninja handed him..

The new world's gonna need a Rick Grimes..

"Hey. Daryl.." It was Rick's voice that snapped him out of the stewing thoughts.

Daryl was taken aback still at his friends shaven face; he looked like one of those corporate puppets. His collar was crisp and not a drop of sweat soiled the caramel police shirt he wore.

"Laugh away.." Rick groaned, clocking Daryl's smirk "I don't stink.." he grimaced, crinkling his nose at Daryl who stood in Rick's porch.

"You good?"

"Mmn.." No.. Daryl knew that Rick didn't believe him; his gentle lines turned into fully fledged crow's feet as he studied him. Daryl could only blink before he nodded his head solidifying his response.

He wasn't okay. He'd never admit it but the guilt swashed him like a bug, his skeleton cracking under the weight of it. He'd been so reckless, staring at the girl he'd been minding instead of paying attention to the road. He'd brushed her tears away..the tears she shed for their fallen friend and she'd kissed his hand, the warm buzz of her lips on his skin made him unfocused. Daryl knew he was stupid, fucking stupid. He didn't recoil away nor did he flinch like he would have done before. It was strange almost alien, that feeling when they caught eyes - it was awkward and the air seemed to disappear but he didn't know why.

The sadness and guilt he felt quickly turned into rage, manifesting itself into physical shakes.

Shoving his hand into his pocket he palmed the cigarette box, fiddling with white stalk to light the end; the orange flame flickered, warming him in the cold morning.

He glanced at Rick, he'd forgotten he was there and sometime ago Carol had joined him. They were talking about something, some dinner Carol had made with supplies from the pantry. It pushed a memory into his head from a while back.. Beth's eyes glowing with the tea lights as they talked about nothing, filling their faces with jam and pigs feet.

Everyone was so wrapped up in this white picket fence, sing around the camp fire bullshit that they'd forgotten how they'd ended up here.

They were on their way through the forest in the worst heat they'd ever experienced, everyone breathing heavily. Daryl was the only one paying any attention to the ground, to her tracks.. they were heavy in the ground, purposeful footsteps. She was quiet and light on her feet, just like he taught her but these were heavy, she was doing it on purpose. It made his heart swell with something he didn't recognize. Beth knew that they'd be coming, hunting whoever had taken her out of his arms that night. She knew they'd be coming for her.

They'd lost the tracks and Daryl vaguely remembered himself yelling to the wind, shoving Rick and Abraham away from him, their attempts to calm him enraged him more.

It was a day later before they'd found the water, innocently sitting on the burning concrete of the road they'd found themselves on.

"What'd you think Daryl?" He blinked a few times, the world outside his brain returning to him;

"I don' think nothin'..." he grunted, angry now. The shakes that were soothed by the nicotine came back visible to the two people in front of him.

"Daryl?" Carol questioned, eyeing her friend.

Carol knew that he'd retreated into himself after the accident, it wasn't obvious to everyone par her and Rick. After all, they were the people that knew him best, but sometimes she thought they knew nothing about him at all, especially now he was shaking, glaring into the trees over the wall. Carol would have said something but he'd rushed forward, grabbing the bike he'd been cleaning and with a forceful stamp on the pedal he roared away, growling at a tetchy Nicholas to open the gate or god help him. He was armed with his crossbow and some supplies. Not so deep down, Carol wondered if that would be the last time she'd see him. He was like a caged tiger within the walls of Alexandria, his heckles up and teeth bared in the corner but when Maggie had talked about looking for her sister again she'd seen that flash of light illuminate his sullen eyes and it all made sense.


A few miles out of Alexandria Daryl had found the tracks, there were ten maybe twelve people and they were running. He slipped through the trees, eyes down following the prints until he came to a small camp. It was littered with packets of soup and an abandoned make shift hob that was still blisteringly hot. Daryl's heart thundered faster and faster and something changed within the blink of an eye; he was close to something unknown. Despair and hopefulness warred within him looking in on the scene. He'd spent so many nights in the days before tracking ignoring the inexperienced people behind him moaning and grumbling about aches and pains..even Maggie was complaining!

It'd been four days since they arrived in that glorified white picket cage, he didn't belong, he knew that but maybe if she was there he would belong. Daryl kicked the dirt scolding himself at the stupidity - what was he doing? She wasn't his sister, his friend or companion; she was Maggie's sister, Carl's friend and Judith's companion..not his.

She was something else entirely, something he didn't understand and even if he did understand those sweaty palms and admiration he'd force it away, push it down quick.

The sun was burning by the time Daryl had followed the destination of the tracks, unaware that it was leading him backwards "Jesus Christ..." Daryl gasped, spotting something drenched in blood and dirt; if he wasn't glaring so hard at the rusty outskirts of Alexandria he might have just missed it. A knife. Her knife.

It was all but silent and peaceful for a few seconds before a horn sounded from the far wall away from him, it was loud and quickly merged into screaming and gunfire.


Beth sat shaking, ice cold in the burning sun. The dark silhouette of Owen loomed over her, splattered in sticky crimson.

"Get up." He growled, his yellow eyes were barely visible thin slits. She didn't move. She was transfixed by the paper in his hands.

She'd found the photos and almost passed out; her family was alive and somewhere safe, good god she thought it was a miracle - until he found them.

Beth had tried to hide the photos, folding them up slipping them into the sides of her boots - but the last one..the most important photo of all fell out as she ran, trying one more desperate time to escape.

Daryl was standing at the edge of Maggie, nearly out of shot. As she expected he looked deathly uncomfortable and the hard stare he wore reminded her of when she first ran with him from the prison that day.

Owen had seen it fly out and most of what happened was blurry; There was a ear busting horn just off to the right of her, blending into fire, screams and gunshots. Owen had come back, launching himself over the walls to face her, he'd relieved Aphid from guarding her and she took his place over the wall whooping with joy.

"I'm not telling you again. This is your punishment Beth Greene. Noah got his. You're getting yours."

"Get over that wall."


Even Daryl's agile movements were too slow, he'd heard the screams as he hung half over the perimeter wall his pants getting caught as he tried to jump to save a woman who'd been slashed violently across the abdomen. Her organs spilt out painting the withered grass a bright crimson.

"Daryl!"

Standing up instantly, crossbow in hand he looked over to Carol who came rushing out of her back-door brandishing a large kitchen knife and two guns.

"They're coming from all over! Find Maggie, I'll handle this.." Carol said crouching down to cradle the whimpering woman on the floor.

Daryl looked at her once more before rushing off, shoving the gun into the waistband of his pants. He wasn't going to stand for this, no one messes with his family and gets away with it.

Daryl made quick work of the first man who ran towards him, machete raised ready to dispatch his head but the bow was faster, the slim arrow flew through the air slicing through his gut. Daryl had almost forgot Beth's knife dangling in his bootstrap and with one swift stab the man was dead, eyes unblinking and glazed. When he realised that it was obviously these people who had Beth he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, prickling with anger and unease. There was a small spark in him that erupted into a thick forest fire in his gut, he knew what he had to do.

His hand gripped the knife and crossbow swinging and firing brainlessly, he was following anger and chasing something he didn't understand - he had to kill all of them and find her, whatever the cost.

When he ran out into the main street his heart threatened to stop all together, the square was full of corpses of their Alexandrian friends and more blood covered strangers flooded in from the main gate that was slightly agar. The horn had stopped, he had seen Sasha snipe the walker that leaned against the wheel.

"Daryl! Daryl!" Her words were muffled over the sounds of screaming and gunfire, it was coming from somewhere higher up but smoke was blurring his vision.

"Fuck. Hold on!" He yelled recklessly. The two men he'd spotted running toward Maggie turned on their heels growling at him.

Maggie was screaming, gripping the side of tower as it rocked, swaying in the wind.

If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet, two grimy looking blood soaked killers launched towards him growling; their eyes almost glowed from their heads, teeth bared in defence. No sooner had Daryl moved did the handle of a machete hit him in the head, he felt the pain and saw the second blow come for his abdomen.

There were no holds barred when Daryl went in for the attack. The pain he'd felt by their blows paled in comparison to his pure naked rage, he pulled at clothing, pounded, kicked and head butted the two grown men without remorse. Then there was the rageful yell that paralysed his victims thinking, shutting them down into the foetal position to protect their vital organs and ride out the storm he was handing them.

Maggie's screaming had stopped when he looked up from the men he'd so easily turned into carcasses. She was in front of him, staring wide eyed; he must have looked a sight caked in blood and breathing heavily.

But he soon noticed that it wasn't him that she was staring at; he gasped out a breath that'd caught in his chest. Her knife. The browning hunter knife with the stag handle weighed next to nothing in his palm that he almost didn't remember he was holding it - that was until his heart started to gallop in its bony cage.

"It's hers. She's alive? Where is she? Did you see her? Daryl?"

"Daryl!" He wanted to speak to her to tell her he hasn't seen her, she might be alive but don't get your hopes up, that there was a massive amount of blood surrounding the knife.

Don't get your hopes up he told himself as much as he was telling Maggie inside his own head. He couldn't think she was alive, because if she wasn't it would be too much to bare.

Too many good people were dying right in front of their eyes, and right there in the middle of the chaos Daryl realized he was right all along.

The good people always die.


Beth was breathing hard. Her feet dragging across the concrete, she was acutely aware of the a sharp pain in her back from being forced over the wall, but what she saw when she'd got to the ground would stay with her.

Screams broke out, the men rushed forward, shouting orders, fists clashed and guns fired. More shouting. More screaming. More running. The attack was fierce, efficient and deadly.

"Stay close to me. You run you die." Owen growled, gripping onto her arm tight. They slipped round to the back of a grand white house unbeknownst to the people flooding out the front door to protect themselves. Beth scanned around the best she could, she knew this was where her family were and the feeling of being so close nearly sent her weeping to the ground, but the grip on her was vice like as he pulled her further forward and into the back door.

The gunfire and screams didn't faze Owen, he just pushed her to the kitchen shoving knives in her hands. She wanted so desperately to slash and stab violently at him, but she quickly thought better of it knowing he'd get his just deserts in the end, she would make sure of it.

"Outside. Don't leave my sight."

She did as she was told, sticking close by him as they stalked through the way they came hidden by bushes that surrounded the main road. There was a sudden sharp rustle near them, Beth jumped causing Owen to grip onto her tighter; it was weird to her she didn't expect Owen to stay still as a woman rushed past brandishing a hand gun. She didn't have time to contemplate as he launched forward after the flash of grey hair Beth had briefly seen fleeing. They followed her, coming to a standstill behind a garage, peaking out to see the woman bend down reaching under the gap in the foundations of a house to pull out a collection of guns.

Carol.

Beth gasped around the hand over her mouth, struggling against his thin but surprisingly strong body.

Beth knew that the look in her eyes when Owen had found the photos gave her away, but she was confused by the surprise in his eyes when he turned her in his grip, unmoving as the woman ran off behind the houses leaving a trail of gunfire in her wake. It was like he expected the inhabitants to just roll over and give up their life.

It was obvious to Beth that her captors were intelligent but more of their people were dropping, dispatched easily by the towns inhabitants. That was what shocked him, Owen's yellowy eyes dulled back to thin calculating slits contemplating and scheming silently, Beth could only hold her breath praying for the first time since god knows when that someone would save her.


The pair moved quickly, an abandoned building just outside the perimeter had been engulfed in flames, flooding the streets with thick suffocating smoke. Its tendrils reached into Daryl's lungs tugging at the inside making him retch. His eyes burnt but he could just make out the silhouettes of Rick, Carol, Glen and Abraham swinging at their enemies, they were falling fast - Abraham's powerful smash of the butt of his gun turned a man's head into mush, the towering ginger laughed triumphantly as the blood splattered his face.

"Rick! Left!" Daryl heard Abraham yell. The freshly shaved face of his best friend twisted and he threw himself launching forward to tackle a woman to the floor. Through the smog Daryl could see her, her face was clad in a bandanna and her eyes were yellowy but something stuck out to him more than just her joyful whooping as she battled with Rick on the blood soaked ground; she had a pink raised W on her forehead...

He retched again. The pieces were fitting, gold, red and burning inside his head; the branding iron they'd seen what seemed a lifetime ago, her cardigan, the burnt skin, the blood.

His mind flashed painfully at what most certainly happened to her that night, it made the blood run cold in his veins. He felt so much guilt, so much pain that it could have winded him there an then;

"Fuck!" He growled, battling with the anger that soaked him. It made Maggie turn from the scene to look at him, her face twitched for a second taking a moment to stare him down. She wanted to know what he was thinking, why he'd cursed to himself.

Daryl saw Maggie staring, her face contorted into a confused frown and he wondered what he looked like for her to be staring so intently.

"Walkers!" Their heads span to the sound of the voice, the dead were stumbling through the gates, their surviving enemies had disappeared. Looking through the fast clearing smoke Daryl calculated quickly as they flooded through that there were fifty Walkers at most, they growled tripping over their uncoordinated limbs toward the scent of fresh blood.

Maggie and Daryl shared a look, nodding briefly as they snapped apart falling into formation with Rick, Carol, Glen, Abraham and Rosita who'd ran over from her side moments earlier. They all looked at each other in that moment, their eyes conveying so many emotions they didn't need to express.

"Keep formation!" Rick yelled gruff and raspy from smoke but it didn't lack effect and everyone fell in line, Maggie taking her place by Glen their fingers brushed in a silent communication.

Then they launched, the tenderness gone replaced by rage and vigour and the powerful emotion to protect their 'home.' Walkers tried for them, lashing out with teeth and mottled black hands; Daryl's crossbow fired over and over flying through bone and flesh dispatching the dead with cool precision. His eyes flicked to the people surrounding him, subconsciously checking for scratches or pain they'd have to be in top shape to take out the Walkers that had been thrown into the ring. Whoever these people were they were playing a dangerous game.

Daryl made a frustrated noise in his throat as the ugliest dead woman he'd ever seen threw herself his way, snarling hungrily. There was no way in hell his death would be at the broken hands of this hag! He snorted shoving her back by her shoulders, swiftly he plunged the knife in his belt into her head and threw her to the ground with a satisfying thud.

Maggie, Glen, Rick and the rest of his family faced the dwindling herd, they were falling fast. Daryl looked up to the fire that raged outside the walls and thought back to when the prison fell; he felt so lost, so angry and frustrated at the hand they were being dealt, after the journey they'd all taken these past months they needed a win.

He didn't know when everyone had stopped but it was silent all but the flames were cracking. Like everything in his life it didn't last long, a dirty rag shoved in a bottle flew past them smashing over by the gate.

A blanket of black smoke obscured his vision, the others around him were flailing around trying to get their barrings..

"Daryl?" Carol's questioning call came closer but he still couldn't see her, his eyes watered through the coughing and intense burning from the smoke.

Moments later he could see and hear the rest of them;;

Rick was hunched over, his hands on his knees breathing deep. Maggie and Glen stood to the right of him embracing quietly while Abraham and Rosita straightened up weapons raised, looking out into the smoke that had engulfed the far side of the road. Daryl just scanned silently, his eyes taking in the sight of the bodies that'd started their day as they normally did, safe inside these walls.

They'd lost people today, good people, strangers, unprepared and weak but they'd tried..they were good people.

The good people always die.

He thought of her then, he'd been holding back that river with a dam so well built not even a tidal wave could break it. He couldn't let himself feel it, he couldn't..

"What the.." Carol gasped beside him, he felt the grip of her hand on his arm pull him away from his head.

The flames across Alexandria dulled slightly, the smoke obscuring the movement of the figures that'd crept in after the dead were obliterated.

He watched the sea of flames lick the air with wrath and fury, the monster of red, orange and yellow rose puffing a breath of black smoke over the street again. Daryl's stance faltered as a figure approached through the sea of inky black. A man, face obscured by blood and soot. His eyes were thin yellow slits that tore into him staring and smiling horribly. It sent a cool shiver of unease down his spine, he was familiar somehow; like a stranger from a distant dream he'd had once.

Anger bubbled in his chest, white and hot like the flames that ravaged and he felt like it could tear down buildings in the exact same way. He knew the figure that was approaching he'd seen it in the dark.

The smoke was clearing and he assumed a more hostile stance, still presenting a great show of uncharacteristic patience as the man stalked closer, his footsteps seemed to stalk in slow motion; he watched Carol and the group fall away slashing and firing weapons at the people behind the man that slinked towards him - the world closed off to them was whizzing around faster now.

The man smiled, teeth rotten; lank black hair fell by his chin laced with grease and blood. In the brief seconds that Daryl was still his eyes flicked to the piece of blood spattered denim in the man's hand that'd captured his attention. He felt the muscle in his chest stammer, not sure whether to carry on beating..undecided as to whether it'd be worth it.

As the pair locked eyes a flash of a memory hit Daryl between the eyes

"Isn't this...touching."

It all fell into place then..

"She'll be alright."

It was decided; Daryl would smash him into the very earth, he wanted him crushed, obliterated, nothing left to bury.

"You!" He all but howled. The dam was cracking, groaning under the heavy tide of reality he'd found himself crushed under.

The man titled his head to the side and laughed, waving the denim like a victory prize.

Daryl paused on the crossbow; he left it strewn on the floor, reaching for the knife instead - this was going to be personal.

He screamed, the knife, her knife shined in the sun waiting to plunge deep into the bastards chest. It's silent request was denied as he heard footsteps..fast, light and determined footsteps he couldn't ignore. The man in front of him however did not, a thin fist flew into the side of his face the bones in the man's knuckles dug into his cheek bone sending volts of pain radiating over Daryl's skin; his own burly fists slammed over and over into the bastards face as the footsteps got closer - whoever it was went undetected, obscured by the black smoke that still covered the town.

Maggie's tortured cry ripped through him as he landed the final blow, the man's right cheek bone was pulp under his fingers, the yellow eyes were glazed unfeeling and dead.

The footsteps were pounding the ground, he could tell by the sound that whoever it was had a left leg injury, it was bad but it didn't stop them.

"Oh god.." Maggie cried, Daryl could see her crumpled onto the floor hugged tightly by Glen.

What he saw then stole his breath and heat from his skin. Suddenly his defences were just like paper, paper that was soaked by the rapidly falling drops of rain that were now pattering on the ground below his feet. She's running, breathing heavily like he is, coming into his view through the smoke like some movie scene. Daryl would have laughed at the absurdity of it if he had been able to do anything but stare in wide eyed disbelief. Seconds pass, his brain taking her in, struggling to comprehend that she isn't his warped mind, conjuring her up to torture him, remind him that he'd failed her, failed Maggie. He found his brain not being able to formulate a thought, at least not one based in any language.

She ran forward looking at Maggie behind him with big eyes, the flash of blue was intense as ever and even more so as she hurtled forward just stopping short of his chest. She breathed heavily staring at him - her tears washing away the streaks of blood on her pale skin.

Daryl couldn't stop his knees from shaking as she folded her slender hands around his shoulders, he could barely believe this was reality. He felt her torso and the heart that galloped within. He needed no more encouragement - instantly his trembling hands grew strong holding her tight to him, seeking the contact to cement the fact.

She was real, breathing and alive in front of him

Beth was shaking and so was he, crying for the missed time they'd never get back, the dam was broken and mirrored in the earth around them. The clouds burst, pouring warm rain onto their bodies.

He could see her more clearly and her him, their features that were fading in their minds shone bright, the light within the both of them burned gold again.

Pulling back he uttered a syllable he hadn't said out loud since she was snatched from him;

"Beth.."


Yaaay! She's back with a bang!

This took me ages to write, I was so set on getting it right and having the build up to their reunion just how I wanted it! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it! I'm so glad they're back together now! This is where it gets much more interesting ;) I didn't plan on having them back together this late in the story chapter wise honestly but I wanted to build up that plot first. Fingers crossed it's not too long winded haha!

I'm currently writing a Bethyl AU fic so that's exciting! I should really be working on my course but pffft that's no fun!

Anyway pleaseeee review, I love all your comments and things they really make writing this worth it! I thought for a while that because Beth wasn't in TWD anymore that these fics would phase out but maybe not!

I'd love to hear what you think! More is coming soon!