Sparkling River Rocks

by Austin0425

After the events with Wilmur's father and Carl's father, they're love story continues in the prison. But what if chaos interrupts their love story once again? Will they survive the chaos or will it just separate them? Originally created by Thewalkingdeadisthebestshow Shattered Moonlight Series Part 2

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Still Rocks

"What the fuck do you think you're doin'?" Daryl asked Beth who was walking straight toward a walker with no weapon in her hands.

Wilmur was resting on a tree trunk and wiping blood off his skin and cloths. He didn't know if the blood was his, from a walker's, or from his father considering he still had wounds from when his father beat him up nearly to death. Some of his bruises and cuts were getting infected. Pus was dripping out of it along with crimson blood.

Beth was trying to get him to rest, but Wilmur refused to because he needed to find Carl. He always told Beth the same thing every time she asked him to rest; I have to find Carl. He's already rested a lot the past week. It's time for him to focus on finding his boyfriend.

"Uh-trying to get the raspberries on the bushes." Beth scoffed, turning to glare at him. "What? You want us to starve?"

"Uh-do you wanna get bit?" Daryl retorted.

Beth scoffed. "I know what I'm doing."

"You don't even have a weapon on you!" Daryl yelled.

Wilmur rolled his eyes. He was sick of the arguments Daryl and Beth were having. It always slowed them down and attract a walker herd to come after them. They always ended up running and someone ended up getting hurt. Then Daryl and Beth would argue, and it would happen all over again.

They barely got any sleep due to the arguments Daryl and Beth had and because Wilmur was searching like hell to find Carl. Hungry walkers always stumbled across them and greeted trouble. They'd cut off their tracks and force them to run another way. He was starting to get frustrated. Every walker they ran across he brutally bash it's head in.

"I don't need a weapon!" Beth yelled. "I can just push it down!"

"What if you can't push it down?! Huh?!" Daryl yelled. "What're ya gonna do then?!"

"Can you stop?" Wilmur huffed with frustration. "It's bad enough you attract hundreds of herds everyday."

Daryl grumbled and glared at Beth one last time before he shoved her out of the way and shot the walker with his crossbow. He scoffed and kicked it when he realized his arrow broke.

"I had it!" Beth yelled.

Daryl scoffed. "You sure as hell didn't! You didn't have a weapon on you!" Daryl yelled.

"I didn't have to kill it! There was just one! I could've simply pushed it out of the way!"

Wilmur rolled his eyes again and walked toward the bush filled with raspberries while Daryl and Beth continued to argue. He put some of them in a brown purse he found while putting a few in his mouth. The juicy and sour flavor soaked in his tongue and traveled across his taste buds.

He looked to the next bush which had almost no raspberries on it. A lot of them were laying on the ground either squashed or eaten. Below the squashed raspberries and sticks was a footprint. He quickly moved the squashed berries and broken sticks to see a footprint about Carl's size.

A tiny smile formed on his busted lips as he scrambled across the leafy ground to search for more footprints. All he found was the leafs and branches covering the soil. However, by a tree laid some squashed and half eaten raspberries as well as three clearings, showing where three people once sat.

Even though the berries were old, they couldn't have gotten far. The shoe size in the mud was Carl's and a small body was sitting along with the two bigger bodies. He knew Carl only escaped the prison with Rick but it had to be him. Luke and Molly was already dead, Lizzie and Mika took the tracks, and Beth was with them. There was no other small person it could be except Carl.

The young teen looked back at Daryl who was still arguing with Beth. Their yelling and shouting had only increased and was undoubtly attracting more walkers.

"Hey." He tried to grab their attention but was practically ignored. "Hey! I found some tracks."

They ignored him and continued to argue. Their voices got louder through every word coming out of their mouths as each minute passed by. Frustration was in Daryl's eyes while anger was in Beth's. Both of their fists were clenching so tightly, blood could slip out of their palm any second if it impossibly grew even tighter.

"Guys!" Wilmur said loudly but not enough to yell. "You're attracting walkers."

But it didn't matter to them. All Daryl and Beth cared about was trying to prove who was right. They didn't care about what was happening around them. To them, it didn't matter if they were attracting a herd or not. They were always lucky to escape the herd. Not once did it just happen for running.

A walker suddenly popped up from behind a tree. It snarled as it made it's way over to the arguing Daryl and Beth. Wilmur quickly rushed over to it and kicked it to the ground as hard as his legs would let him before smashing his foot into the walker's soft skull. Blood splattered all over the bottom of his pants and shoe with each smash with his foot in the walker's head.

He sighed with frustration when Daryl and Beth continued to argue before pulling his Beretta out of his holster and firing a bullet in the sky, stopping Daryl and Beth from arguing any more.

Daryl glared at Wilmur. "Why'd the hell you do that for?! You're wasting bullets!"

"Well, you both are wasting time." Wilmur scoffed, placing his Beretta back in his holster. "A herd will be here any second now."

Daryl scoffed, still angry toward Beth. "Well, pick the berries and lets get outta here."

"I did pick the berries while you two were arguing." Wilmur retorted. "I found a footprint about Carl's size and one clearing about his size."

"I don't care." Daryl grumbled.

Beth scoffed. "Well I do. I wanna see them."

The eighteen-year-old followed Wilmur to the squashed and eaten berries laying below the raspberry bushes. Beside it was a small footprint about Carl's size. The smile across Beth's lips showed relief as Wilmur guided her to the three clearings where three people was sitting.

Beth smiled again. "I bet we can catch up to them."

"No." Daryl said. "By the look of the berries, they left a week or so ago. Wherever they were, they're far from us."

"We don't know that." Beth replied with irritation in her voice. "It doesn't matter if they're far. We have to follow them. At least do it for Wilmur."

Daryl scoffed angrily. "He ain't my adoptive son no more. If he wants to look for Carl, he can go himself." Daryl growled.

Wilmur scoffed. "You know what? I will."

He immediately started pushing starting pushing bushes and branches out of the way with his knife pulled out of his belt. His crystal blue, swollen eyes darted to the dirt on the ground to find signs of any tracks left by Carl.

Beth looked back at Daryl and shot him a glare. Her fists were clenching again as anger filled her greyish eyes. She shook her head and scoffed as she tucked her knife back in her belt and followed Wilmur down the woods. Daryl scoffed and held his crossbow up as he followed Beth.

Wilmur looked at a trail left by Carl and two people. He smiled and kept following it with Beth and Daryl following from behind. However, a pack of walkers suddenly come out from behind a tree. Wilmur's eyes widened and pointed for Daryl and Beth to run back.

They silently ran the other direction with their hands placed over the pistols in their holsters. He killed a walker quietly when one snuck up on Beth and ran ahead. As soon as they made their way back to the same spot Daryl and Beth were arguing at, another herd cut them off.

"This way." Daryl said quietly and took the lead with Beth and Wilmur following from behind.

The herds had combined and were now snarling and growling louder as they approached their prey. Another herd came out of nowhere and chased them in the other direction. However, herds were surrounding them from every corner now.

Daryl stared at the walkers with a glare glistening in his blue eyes before looking up to see a tree with many thick branches. "Do y'all know how to climb trees?"

Wilmur and Beth nodded. Wilmur remembered his father teaching him how to climb when he was eight while Beth remembered how Hershel taught her how to climb when she was ten. He remembered how his mother always took him to a park filled with trees and he'd always climb them. It was always nearly impossible to get him to climb down.

But those days were long gone. Being able to climb a tree is precious now instead of playful like it was for him and his younger sister back before the world fell. If a bad person was chasing them, they could always climb up trees. If a walker herd was chasing them, they could still climb up the trees.

Wilmur followed behind Daryl as he grabbed each branch and pulled himself up. Below him was Beth who was struggling to climb. She hadn't climbed a tree since she was ten-years-old and now she was eighteen. She couldn't remember the force she had to use to grab each branch, nor did she know to balance on the little branches.

"Beth." Wilmur whispered, offering a hand to pull her up.

She hesitantly grabbed his hand and pulled herself up while Wilmur helped her. Her chest met his back as she stepped on the next branch where he was standing. He looked up to see Daryl already at the top of the tree, leaving them behind. He shook his head and scoffed before stepping out of Beth's way so he can push her up to the next branch.

His hand was placed on her back as he pushed her up to the next skinny, fragile branch. She offered him a hand to pull him up which he accepted. He took it and pushed himself up as Beth pulled him up. He winced as she pulled on his broken wrist.

"Sorry." She whispered as she pulled him up.

However, as soon as his foot stepped on the fragile branch, it cracked and fell off the tree with Wilmur and Beth falling along with it. Their heads smashed against the branchy ground, leaving a dark bruise on the back of their heads. Beth moaned in pain but Wilmur was quick to scramble up for his knife and start smashing it in the walkers soft skulls.

The walkers pushed him in the bushes filled with thorns and tried to rip open his flesh with their teeth. The sharp thorns cuts into his skin and blood immediately splattered all over the disgusting faces of the walkers. They fell in the thorns with him and got stuck in the vines.

Wilmur shrieked as he yanked his injured body out of the thorn bushes and rushed over to Beth who was still laying on the ground and moaning over her injured head. He quickly pulled her up but they're both knocked down again when another pack of walkers knock them down. The walkers piled on top of them and desperately tried to rip the flesh from their skin.

Wilmur scrambled for his knife and smashed it in the walker's skulls as each walker piled on top of them. Through the hands of the walkers, he managed to hand Beth one of his knives and continued to brutally smash his knife in the walker's skulls. He sunk his fingers in one of the walker's throats and forced blood to spew out of their mouths.

Blood splattered on his and Beth's face as he sunk his fingers in each of the walkers throats. He roared as he brutally shoved a walker off him and smash it into a sharp log. He yanked a walker off Beth and did the same, only he began kicking the body brutally in rage after he smashed his skull in the sharp log.

Beth sent her knife through one of the walker's skulls before doing the same to the next which jumped on her. Wilmur shoved Beth out of the way to protect her from the active and hungry walkers as he brutally killed them. Crimson blood spilled all over Wilmur's cheeks, hair, and cloths with each smash in the walkers skulls.

Another pack of walkers suddenly stumbled out of nowhere. Their growls and snarls roared as soon as they saw the fresh flesh in front of them. Wilmur rushed to the pack of walkers while Beth focused on the other walkers. Crimson blood stained the branches and green leafs settled on the ground. It splattered against the bushes and colored it crimson.

Together, him and Beth shoved the walkers in the thorns, causing blood to spew all over them. It colored their skin, cheeks, cloths, and hair crimson. It shined in the sunlight through the green trees and darkened with more blood staining against them.

Walker bodies piled on top of each other with each one dying. It completely covered a circle on the branchy ground and colored it red. The growling and snarling grew completely silent despite more walkers heading their way in the distance.

Wilmur panted with his crimson and swollen hands placed over his knees. He looked at Beth who had blood all over her cloths to make sure she was okay and survived. Her knife held in her hand was colored crimson just like her tangled hair was. The panic in her eyes softened as soon as she looked at him. He had saved her unlike Daryl did.

She growled and looked up in the tree where Daryl was still at. "Thanks for the help, jackass!"

Daryl scoffed and climbed back down the tree with his crossbow still held in his hand. He turned to glare at Beth and took a few menacing steps toward her.

"Wilmur seemed to be helping you just fine." Daryl growled, shooting another walker dead with his crossbow.

"He nearly died because you didn't help!" Beth yelled. "He's your son! You should've saved him!"

Daryl stepped in her face, shooting her a death glare. "He ain't my son no more. He can handle himself."

"It doesn't matter if he's your son or not! You care for him so why let him almost die?!"

Wilmur scoffed. "Can we just forget about it? I don't even care anyway. I care about finding Carl. Nothing else."

Beth turned her head to glare back at Daryl. "I would like to but he doesn't seem to care."

Just when Daryl was going to deny it, another pack of walkers stumbled across them. Daryl shot one of them dead with his crossbow before following Beth and Wilmur who was running from the walkers.

Wilmur limped as he stumbled through the woods with Daryl and Beth behind him. His legs were aching from running too much the past week and fighting off too many walkers. He was exhausted and desperately needed to rest, but he refused to until he found Carl.

The young teen brutally killed another walker when one jumped out from inside a hole in the tree before continuing to limp through the woods. He looked behind him to make sure Beth was keeping up. He wasn't too worried about Daryl but Beth was a little inexperienced with the brutality of the destroyed world.

She was an innocent light to all of them. She never did anything far too terrible like everyone else in the group and prison did. He was desperate to keep that innocent light alive. If she died, all the innocence would be gone from their brutal world.

He rarely talked to Beth in the prison because he was always gone on runs and she was always taking care of Judith. But she was one of the two people he had left right now and he had to cherish it.

Another pack of walkers forced them to run another way. He pushed Beth ahead of them to protect her while he and Daryl stayed behind to control the walker herd. They ran across a wide stream river with filthy RVs and tents rested beside of it on land. Walkers were piling the old camp, forcing them to swim through the river.

The three of them jumped in and swam across it. Wilmur and Beth's arms were exhausted and could hardly swift through the water but they made it. The blood washed the fresh, crimson blood off their cloths and skin as well as their hair when they ducked underwater. They swam out of the river and continued to run through overunned woods with hands placed over the knives in their belts.

Another pack of walkers jumped out of nowhere and chased them in the other direction. Daryl ran ahead of him and Beth to kill the walkers stumbling in front of them with their sloppy steps. Wilmur turned around to see another walker herd coming from behind them, sending them in one last direction.

Finally, they stumble across another camp filled with dirty tents and dead people along with a fireplace laying in the middle. Empty cans of food piled across the camp along with brown water in the water bottles. Dirty cloths were clipped to a grey line crossing the camp.

Beth panted with exhaustion and sat on one of the logs surrounding the burnt fireplace. "I need to rest."

"We have to keep going, little bitch." Daryl growled.

"What did you just call me?" Beth challenged him while taking menacing steps.

Wilmur motioned for Beth to sit back down and looked back up at his ex-adoptive father. "The sun is gonna be out in an hour. We need to stay here for the night."

Daryl scoffed and kicked an empty can of peaches out of his way. "There's a fucking herd of walkers heading this way. We can't rest."

"I'll lead them away." Wilmur replied. "I gotta look for Carl anyway."

"You mean look for your dead boyfriend?" Daryl scoffed.

Wilmur glared. "He's not dead."

"How the hell would you know that?" Daryl glared back. "Do you see how many walkers are out there? He could easily be dead!"

Wilmur scoffed and headed for the woods and turned his head to glare back at Daryl. "If it wasn't for him, I would've never turned back to Wilmur! I owe him so much! I'm not gonna give up until I find him!" Wilmur snapped.

Daryl just glared at his ex-adoptive son. He was tightly gripping his crossbow as he stared at him. It was bad enough he was with two reckless people. Beth barely knew anything about the brutal world and Wilmur was too determined to find Carl. They both barely listened to him. All they were doing was slowing him down.

"I'm gonna go find the herd and try to find Carl." Wilmur said, turning to head for the woods but immediately stopped and turned back to look at Daryl and Beth with irritation in his crystal blue eyes. "And don't argue."

"That's something I can't promise." Beth replied with irritation in her voice.

Wilmur sighed and headed into the woods. He pulled his blood covered knife out of his belt as he limped forward. He could hear the moans and snarls of the walkers in the distance across the river. The walkers couldn't cross it, but he didn't want to take any chances.

A walker snarled at him as it popped out from behind a tree. He growled in annoyance and shoved the walker against a tree before jabbing his knife in his soft skull. He threw it down on the ground and smashed his foot in it's face in rage.

He was angry for so many reasons. First, his father marched up to the gates and destroyed the prison. Second, he was separated from Carl and couldn't find him. Next, Daryl and Beth's lame arguments kept attracting thousands of packs of walkers. Then, his father badly injured him and the walkers were making it worse. And final, everyone he loved was dead besides Carl.

If he could, he would slaughter every walker in the entire world brutally. He was frustrated with every thing and desperately wanted to somehow make all the walkers suffer. But then he would end up just like the Governor. He just needed to find Carl and rest with him. After he finds Carl, all of his rage and frustration will come to an end. He could finally relax in his lover's arms. But he needed to find him first.

Wilmur limped back to the river where the walkers were drowning in. Twenty of them were drowning in the river while the rest of them were stumbling around the camp. He sighed with frustration in his voice and tucked his knife back in his belt but was still holding it.

He sighed again and made his way back to the small and dirty camp Beth was resting at and Daryl was throwing stuff around in rage. He sat down next to Beth and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Tears were stinging her eyes as she stared in the fire Daryl had made while he was gone.

"Did you find any tracks of Carl?" She asked with her voice cracked, not worrying about the walkers but about Carl.

Wilmur sighed and shook his head. "I wish."

Beth sighed and threw a coal in the bright fire in rage. The tears in her eyes were threatening to spill on her cheeks, but she couldn't cry. She had to be strong like Daryl was.

"It's okay to cry." Wilmur said, noticing how she's fighting back the tears.

"I don't cry anymore." Beth said.

Wilmur furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

"After everything I've been through...I just ran out of tears. You wouldn't understand."

Wilmur sighed and withdrawal his hand from her shoulder. "Maybe not, but I still want to know what's wrong."

Beth shook her head. "I'm fine."

"You know I'm not gonna leave you alone until I figure out what's wrong." Wilmur chuckled.

Beth chuckled as well. She remembered when something bothered Carl, Wilmur would follow him all around the prison until he opened up.

"Well...the first people I lost was my mother and brother." Beth said, shuddering as she remembered their faces like it was yesterday. However, Wilmur's hand placed over her shoulder got her to keep talking. "Then it was my boyfriend, Jimmy. Then I lost a man and woman I was close to named Otis and Patricia."

Wilmur's eyes saddened as she listened to all the names Beth listed she lost. He knew what is was like to lose a mother and sibling as well as people you were close to like Hershel. He slightly knew how it felt to lose a boyfriend considering he lost Kevin but he betrayed him in the end.

"After them, I lost my second boyfriend, Zach." Beth continued, noticing Wilmur's shiver when she mentioned his best friend's name. "Then it was Daddy."

Hershel flashed in Wilmur's mind. He remembered Hershel being the first one to take care of him even when he was Justin. Everyone else argued or yelled at him. Ever since he became Wilmur, he and Hershel became good friends. He, Hershel, and the council group helped work together to make the prison a better place.

But now Hershel was gone because the Governor chopped his head off. They lost the man who saved Carl's life, who helped the prison, who helped everyone make the right choices, and who saved hundreds of lives in the prison.

"I lost my mom and younger sister." Wilmur said, tears filling his eyes as he thought of them. "I miss them so much."

"What were they like?" Beth asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

Tears slowly started dripping down Wilmur's cheeks, creating a clear trail from the dirt on his cheeks. "My mom was really sweet, loving, and caring."

Beth smiled. "She sounds like you."

Wilmur smiled back but was still crying. "It's what my dad said. He always said I was just like my mom even though we look so different. Now, I wasn't very close to my dad. I was closer to my mom. She was always able to make me feel better. She was...always able to put a smile on my face."

Beth smiled at how much Wilmur and his mother were alike. Like his mother, he was always able to make everyone feel better just like he was able to put a smile on everyone face and especially Carl's.

"She died in a car accident though while I was at school." Wilmur said, shuddering as he recalled his father signing him out early to see her dead body in the hospital. He remembered how terrible she looked when he saw her corpse in the hospital bed. It wasn't his mother anymore. "So it was just me, my sister, and my dad."

Beth bowed her head as she remembered after her mother died, it was just her dad and sister. She missed them so very much. She was really close to Maggie when she was little, but now she was gone and most likely she won't her for a long time.

"Anyway, my sister was very playful, mature, and a happy bird. After my mom's death, I slept in her room for a while. She was always able to make me feel better like my mom did. We don't look alike at all though. Everyone always kept asking me if I was sure she was my sister." Wilmur chuckled, but shuddered as he remembered her death. "But she died when it all started so it was just me and my dad. But now it's just me."

Beth shook her head. "No, it's not. It's you and Carl now."

Wilmur smiled. "Yeah, it is."

They both stared back in the bright, orange fire as smoke filled the air. The tears from their eyes were gone now and now they were glowing as the fire reflected in their eyes. Wilmur's eyes darted to Daryl was kicking around the camp in rage. He knew why he was angry, but he couldn't push it or an argument would rise between them.

He looked up at the starry sky to see the bright moon shine through the green leafs hanging from the tall trees. If he was in the prison, he'd take the time to admire the moon and stars. But now all they reminded him of was they were outside the prison now because his father destroyed it.

He listened to the owls howling in the trees and the jar bugs chatting in the trees. He could hear crickets chirping through the fresh night air and the frogs ribbitting on logs.

But the peacefulness is interrupted when suddenly a pack of walkers stumble across the camp. They growled and reached for their prey as soon as they saw Wilmur, Beth, and Daryl.

"Shit!" Wilmur cursed.

Daryl already took off through the woods with Wilmur and Beth following from behind. He shoved Beth ahead of him to protect her and Daryl from the hungry walkers. Daryl grabbed Beth's hand and Beth grabbed Wilmur's as they ran across the deep, dark forest. The owls in hidden in the trees continued to howl and the crickets continued to chirp as walkers chased them down.

They couldn't climb up the trees due to the owls and bats awaking and they couldn't run back to the river because of the walkers in the river drowning in there. All they could do was keep running until the walkers couldn't hear them anymore.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the sky. The thunder would only make it worse because it would cause walkers to get more active and the rain would make it hard for them to run.

Wilmur looked in the sky as he ran which was now covered with dark clouds as it flashed blue when the thunder rumbled. He hoped Carl was safe from the storm. If he was out in the middle of the dark woods, thousands of walkers would surround him as well as the hard rain.

They suddenly stepped out of the woods and onto the first road they've seen since the prison was destroyed. They spent their entire time in the woods without seeing a trail or road. But now they've finally made it out of the deep and dark and dangerous woods.

"C'mon" Daryl whispered.

Daryl stood in the middle of the road to see a herd of walkers coming their way while Beth and Wilmur got in a car on the side of the road and tried to start up the engine but failed.

They suddenly heard the trees rustle before hearing the angry snarl of walkers. Wilmur and Beth stared at Daryl with wide eyes before he grabbed them both and shoved them in the hot trunk of the car and shut it. Daryl tied the trunk shut so no walker could get in before sitting back with Beth and Wilmur.

Wilmur and Beth's arms were wrapped around each other as they stared in fear when the herd of walkers started brushing up against the car. Sweat dripped down each of their faces as they stared with fear in their wide eyes. Wilmur gently clinged onto his knife in his belt with each thump against the car. He had to be ready just in case anything happened.

Just a few hours later, the thunder in the sky roared as ran banged against the car along with walkers thumping against it. Blue lights kept flashing before their eyes as they stared in fear. Sweat was dripping down their temples in both fear and the hot temperature in the car.

Neither of them could sleep.

The older and younger man played golf on top of the RV. They haven't played it together since their other camp was destroyed and they were desperate to play it together again. It would be refreshing to reflect on the good memories together instead of thinking of the bad stuff that happened in their camp.

The younger man hit the golf ball with his golf club and sent it flying across the air, farther than the camp. He was trying to aim for the walker hole they had but he completely missed.

"Damn it." The younger man cursed, holding his hand out for another ball. "Hand me another one."

The older man handed the younger the golf ball and watched as he set the ball on it's place.

"You know he's dead, right?" The younger man asked, referring to their old friend.

"Shumpert?" The older man questioned.

"He was never the same after Woodbury." The younger man said with sadness in his eyes as he thought of his old friend as he hit the golf ball again. "He got reckless. Biter took a piece of him right over there. I swear, he didn't try to get out of the way...I put him down myself. Right-right over there."

The older man handed the younger man a beer bottle. "I'm sorry."

The younger man shrugged. "There's just some things you can't come back from. They become a part of who you are. Either you live with them or you don't."

"Well, you seem to be living with them pretty well." The older man said to younger man who was leader of the camp.

The younger man chuckled. "So are you. That family, they brought you back. You're lucky. I couldn't-I couldn't do that again. Couldn't risk it. Couldn't sleep at night knowing I was gonna lose them."

"I'm not gonna lose them." The older man said with confidence. "What, you don't think you can keep this place safe?"

"I'll try." The younger man shrugged, hitting another golf ball. "Hopefully we'll be prepared for whatever comes. Now you're here, maybe we can share the crown a little."

The younger man hit another golf ball and grunted in frustration as he realized hitting the golf ball at the right place wasn't playing out.

"Oh, Jesus." The younger man said. "I should have taken some golf lessons before the-"

The younger man is cut off when the older man smashed his golf club against the back of his neck. The older man glared at the younger and kicked him off the RV before dragging his body down to the walker hole and throwing him in it, letting the walkers rip the flesh from his skin.

Now the older man can relax knowing his friend is dead.

Wilmur could hear the growls from the walkers slowly calm down. Every walker nearby had grown active and tried to follow the thunder rumbling in the dark clouds. However, early sunlight was seeping through the tiny hole in the trunk and shining against their sweaty faces.

The young teen darted his eyes to meet Beth's blue ones and then met Daryl's light blue ones. Sweat was dripping down their temples from the lack of sleep, the hot temperature in the trunk, and the fear. He looked down at his rock knife which was stained with blood. He had been gripping it all night just in case something went wrong. His fingers were shaking from gripping it far too long and from the lack of sleep.

He watched as Beth untied the knot tied on the trunk to keep it closed an opened it up. The bright sunlight greeted their droopy eyes and stung them. Their eyes had gotten too used to the darkness they were trapped in all night. Slowly, they each stepped out of the trunk with their stiffed legs. They looked behind them to see a dead walker lying on the road beside a car door ripped off the car.

They looked at each other before grabbing some supplies left behind in the car. Wilmur grabbed an almost empty water bottle and stuffed it in a bag he found in the dirty car. He looked at himself in a small mirror to see his skin was painted red with sweat dripping down it from being trapped in a hot trunk all night with not much oxygen.

He sighed and climbed out of the car to help Beth collect the torn items the car once had. He stood behind Beth and stared as Daryl slowly started to walk down the road.

"Where you going?" Wilmur panted.

Daryl turned around. "Where do ya think?"

"Carl left tracks back down in those woods." Wilmur pointed. "We can find them again and follow them."

Daryl scoffed. "Ain't no way I'm goin' back down to that death trap."

Wilmur glared as his fists clenched the white grocery bag held in his fists. He was getting sick and tired of Daryl's attitudes. Yeah, he lost more people than they can imagine but that was no excuse. If he wasn't going to let him find Carl then he will himself.

Beth placed a hand over Wilmur's shoulder. "He's right. We can't go back."

Wilmur's glare softened at Beth's words. He knew she was telling the truth because she was always truthful. If she said they couldn't go back, then they couldn't go back. But he was so close to tracking down Carl. If he followed his tracks a little longer, he could've easily caught up to him.

Beth noticed the look in Wilmur's eyes and stood in front of him, both of her hands on both of his shoulders. "Listen, we'll find him. I promise. But we can't go back."

The young teen sighed and nodded in agreement. He followed behind Beth down the road with his hand placed over his knife held in his belt. The road was silent and dirty with different colored leafs. No walker or dead human could be seen in sight. The only thing that could be heard was the birds singing in the trees as they greeted each other good morning.

It angered him how animals could still live a normal life but they couldn't. They didn't have wings to fly away from danger like birds do. They couldn't run from every single danger like deer do. They couldn't blend in like some frogs do. Instead, they had to live out danger together and try their best to survive.

Wilmur looked in the sky which was sprinkled with thin clouds. The sun shined down brightly and gleamed against the sweat dripping down their skin. It stung his eyes as he stared at but he didn't care. All he was focused on was finding Carl. Finding him came before shelter and sanctuary. He didn't care about his stomach screaming and growling for food. Once he finds Carl, he can relax.

It would be hard though considering Daryl thought everyone was dead but he and Beth didn't. He refused to follow any tracks left by people. He didn't care how many clues were left. He just wanted to survive and that got on Wilmur's nerves. He was going to find Carl whether anybody liked it or not.

Suddenly, Wilmur stepped in a big and sticky pile of crimson blood. He kicked the blood pile in frustration and cursed under his breath as he looked down at it. The blood was left from a person who happened to just pass by an hour or so ago. He prayed it wasn't Carl's but all he could do was hope.

"What's wrong now?" Daryl grumbled.

Wilmur looked up to glare at his ex-adoptive father. He wanted to slap him but he'd never do anything to anyone he loved. He was just angry Daryl lost all faith. He refused to believe anyone escaped the prison except them. He didn't even bother to look for anyone at all.

Daryl made his way over to the pile of blood to see Wilmur's foot stepped right in it. "Looks like someone from the prison died."

"Just stop!" Beth yelled.

Wilmur rolled his eyes. "Great lets get outta here before another herd comes."

Beth glared but her eyes immediately softened as she gripped onto her knife. Her blue eyes darted to the woods where it was silent besides the birds singing good morning. She looked back at Daryl and Wilmur for permission and they both nodded.

Daryl took the lead and stepped in the woods with Wilmur and Beth following behind. Wilmur pulled his crimson knife out of his belt and held it up as he stumbled through the forest. He looked to his left to see a small bird searching for worms. He threw his knife right through it's stomach, killing it.

He pulled the knife out of the bird's body before picking the bird up and tying it to his shoulder. He made his way over to two very tiny tents to see Beth starting a fire.

"Did you make this camp yourself?" Wilmur asked and Beth shook her head.

He sighed and sat by the fire before carefully putting thick sticks above the burning fire. As carefully as he could, he tied the dead bird on the thick branch for it to cook. He watched as the bird slowly turned to a dark color as it cooked above the fire. As soon as it was done, he yanked it off the knot and branch and stuffed it in his mouth.

Neither one of them has eaten in a week or more. They were either running, killing walkers, or searching for Carl. But they finally have to time to sit down and eat.

Daryl came up behind them with an unskinned snake, squirrel, and drink bottle held in his hands. He threw the drink to the floor and tied the snake and squirrel against the thick branch above the fire. Daryl split the snake in half as soon as it finished and handed one half to Beth while he handed the squirrel to Wilmur. He could see the disgust look on her face as she stuffed a little bit of the snake in her mouth.

Wilmur looked down at his half eaten bird before handing it to Beth. "You can have my bird."

"No thanks." Beth rejected.

Wilmur threw the half eaten bird in front of her. "I still have my squirrel. That should be enough."

Beth sighed and handed the snake over to Wilmur before she stuffed little pieces of the cooked bird in her mouth. It tasted much better than the snake did but it still wasn't as good. Like Wilmur, she was sick and tired of hunting for their food every day and running from walkers every second. She just wanted to be with the ones she loved in a safe place.

Because of the Governor, they lost everything they worked so hard for and everyone they loved very much. They weren't just running from the walkers. They were running from the sadness as well. But they both knew they couldn't escape it unless they were reunited with their loved ones.

Wilmur didn't know how to escape the excruciating pain, but Beth did. She wasn't just going to sit by soaked in her own tears. There had to be a way out of it.

"I need a drink." Beth suddenly said, referring to alcohol.

Daryl grabbed the sun drop bottle and through it at her as he continued to eat his snake. Wilmur rolled his eyes at how stupid Daryl was being. Does he not understand anything they say?

Beth moved the sun drop bottle beside her. "No, I mean a real drink. As in alcohol."

Daryl ignored her and continued eating his cooked snake, causing Wilmur to scoff. Talking to Daryl was like talking to a brick wall. He never answered them anymore. All he cared about was trying to survive himself instead of looking for people who survived the prison incident.

"I've never had one." Beth continued. "Cause' of my dad. But he's not exactly around anymore, so..."

Wilmur remembered how strict Hershel was on alcohol in the prison. If he caught anyone drinking at all, he would take the bottle away. He always told him not to drink because it could lead you to getting drunk. And drunk can lead you to death.

Beth and Wilmur watched as Daryl continued eating his cooked snake. "I thought we could go find some."

Wilmur scoffed again when Daryl didn't answer. "My God, Daryl. Beth is talking to you."

"I hear her." Daryl snapped.

"Then why aren't you answering her?" Wilmur questioned.

Daryl glared at him. "Cause' she ain't asking a question."

Beth scoffed. "Fine. I'll get some on my own." She said as she grabbed her knife and walked in the woods.

Wilmur shot Daryl a simple glare. He was willing to let one of the most innocent people in the world go off in the woods on their own. He didn't seem to care about anything or anyone anymore like Justin did. He didn't feel like stopped Daryl from turning cold, and he didn't want to try. He just needed to wipe his rage off his hands and find Carl.

He tucked his knife in his belt and followed Beth in the woods, leaving Daryl. He followed Beth to a bunch of poison ivy and bushes filled with thorns. He kept his hand over his knife held in his belt just in case anything jumped out of nowhere.

"Jerk." Wilmur heard Beth spat before she turned her head to look at him. "Sorry."

Wilmur shook his head. "It's fine. He is being a jerk."

Suddenly, a walker herd came out of nowhere. Beth and Wilmur were quick to hide behind a wide and thick tree with their knives pulled out of their belts. Beth bent down to pick up a small rock and threw it somewhere else so the walkers could walker toward the noise.

The walkers did what Beth thought and walked toward the rock where it was thrown while one walker stumbled to the tree they were hiding behind. However, it decided to follow the herd of walkers instead. Wilmur relaxed and tucked his knife back in his belt before flinching when he heard a branch crack.

He and Beth quickly turned around to see Daryl with his crossbow held up. Daryl glared at them before turning around and walking back the same way with him and Beth following.

"I think we made it a way." Beth said, following Daryl with Wilmur behind her. "I'm pretty sure we gotta go that way to find a booze."

Suddenly, they stumbled across the same, tiny camp they were staying in. Daryl stepped over the tires that were used to signal noise if a walker were to stumble across them. He kicked it by an accident, causing it to hit Beth and Wilmur's legs.

"What the hell?" Beth said angrily. "You brought us back to the camp. We're not staying in this suck-ass camp!"

Beth stuck up her middle finger toward Daryl before trying to walk off with Wilmur, but he yanked them both back by their wrists. Wilmur winced as Daryl yanked his broken wrist back, but Beth pushed Daryl's hand off his broken wrist before rubbing it gently with her thumb to make it feel better.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you feel anything?" Beth said angrily. "Yeah, you think everything's screwed. I guess that's a feeling. But that's no excuse to grab Wilmur and tell him that his own boyfriend is dead!"

"It's the truth!" Daryl yelled. "He has no idea where his boyfriend is!"

"That's why I'm gonna find him!" Wilmur yelled with rage and anger boiling his veins. "I'm not leaving him alone in the woods whether like it or not! I love him and I'm not gonna abandon him like you are!"

Daryl growled. "I'm not abandoning him! I'm not risking my life to save a person whose already dead!"

"He is not dead!" Wilmur yelled. "I can search for Carl like I did on my own before! If you believe he's dead then fine but I don't think he is! I saw him escape with Rick with my own eyes! So don't force me to stop looking for him!"

"I'm not forcing you!" Daryl growled. "I'm saving your life from getting killed over nothing!"

"Carl isn't nothing! He's something very special to me!" Wilmur yelled as tears began to stream down his face. "Do you not understand what love is?! Do you not know what I went through to keep Carl safe?! I fucking kept him safe for a reason! I'm not gonna let it be all over nothing!"

Tears poured down his cheeks with each word screaming out of his mouth. He didn't care if he was attracting walkers anymore. He was sick of Daryl assuming his boyfriend is dead.

"He's right! We might as well do somethin'!" Beth yelled. "I'm gonna get myself a damn drink. Then we're goin' to look for Carl whether you like it or not!"

Daryl glared at both of them as the angry Beth and upset Wilmur walked off in the woods. He didn't know why Beth and Wilmur were risking their lives over nothing. There was no point in finding Carl at all. Even if he was alive, Wilmur was never gonna see him again.

He growled in frustration and followed Beth and Wilmur out of the green woods. He held his crossbow up just in case they happen to pass any walker or human. They stepped in a green, golf course field. A large portion of the grass was dead due to not anyone watering it for the past two years. Up ahead was a golf building which could most likely have a bar.

"Golfers like to booze it up, right?" Beth questioned.

Wilmur immediately thought of his father and how he loved to play golf. After every single game, his father would go to the bar in the golf building and get two beers. His father was a huge fan of golf. He played it almost everyday and taught him and Penny how to play. Eventually, it became a family tradition for them.

They looked ahead to see walkers stumbling up the field. However, Beth simply ignored them and walked the other way toward the golf building. Wilmur sniffled and followed Beth with his hand placed over his knife in his belt. A walker jumped out from behind a fallen golf cart and grabbed Beth's foot but Wilmur was quick to kill it before it could bite her leg.

Daryl past by them with a glare on his face. "It's why Carl can already be dead."

"Shut up." Wilmur growled as he followed Beth to the white building.

They stopped in front of the steps with a look of slight fear in their eyes. The building was clean and it didn't sound like many walkers were in there. The dusty grimy windows were clearer than usual and although the grass in the golf course was dead, it was cleanly mowed.

"Might be people inside." Beth said.

Wilmur pulled out his knife and stepped forward but was immediately pulled back by Daryl. A death glare was visible in his eyes as he leaned in his face and growled.

"Do you wanna get killed?" Daryl tested him.

Wilmur yanked away and glared back. "I have to know if Carl's in there."

"Forget Carl." Daryl spat before turning to Beth. "Forget the damn drink!"

"No!" Beth yelled. "I came here for a reason and I'm not leaving!"

Daryl turned back to Wilmur. "What the hell's wrong with you?! You-you let Beth get a drink but you didn't let Bob have any!"

"That was different!" Wilmur yelled. "He chose liquor over his own friends! Beth's not! She's doing it because she wants one!"

"Bob wanted some, too!" Daryl yelled. "He got it for when it gets quiet just like she is!"

Beth turned to glare at Daryl. "I'm not doin' what Bob did! I just need some, all right?! You don't have to come in if you don't want to but I'm goin' in! With or without you!"

Daryl glared at both of them with his fists clenching his crossbow as he gritted his teeth. Beth was making the same mistake Bob had made and he knew Wilmur knew it. Wilmur didn't want to stop her because she was one of the couple people he had left and he didn't want to believe they would make a mistake like Bob did.

Even though Bob chose something over one another many times, Daryl knew he and Wilmur both missed him. Daryl couldn't see it but Wilmur could just like he could see why Bob kept getting liquor so many times. It was in case something happened to the prison and he ended up all alone for the third time.

Now something did happen to the prison and they were all alone with darkness following them everywhere they go. They could use anything to make them feel better. They wanted to fight off the pain in every way they can just like Bob did.

If Wilmur could get his hands on a drink, maybe he could make the pain go away just like Bob was able to. He knew he was far too young and wasn't even sixteen yet, but those rules didn't apply anymore. They were all gone just like everyone else was gone.

He and Daryl followed Beth up the steps. She tried to open the locked door, but it refused to open. They looked back in the field to see the herd of walkers growing closer and closer. Wilmur kept hand over the knife in his belt as he followed Beth and Daryl to another door.

As quietly as he could, Daryl creaked open the door with a golf club held in his other hand. He peaked inside to make sure they couldn't see any walkers or humans.

"C'mon." Daryl said when the coast was clear.

Wilmur quietly shut the door behind him before looking up at the ceiling where walkers were tied to the ceiling. The tight ropes were wrapped around their throats as they snarled louder when they saw the fresh meat in front of them.

Daryl picked up a flashlight off the wooden floor and shined it on the walkers. A lot of them were wearing golfing uniforms like the golf players wore it on the sports channel. No blood was printed on their cloths which meant they most likely killed themselves. If someone killed them, you would think blood would be left on their cloths.

The flashlight shined on the wooden floor where dead walkers laid with no blood. One of them was a teenage boy about his age with fresh cloths covering him. It's flannel was colored grey with little white stripes against it. The pants were blue jeans and the dirty shoes were converse.

Wilmur sighed and unbuttoned the flannel off him before untying the shoes and taking them off. He pulled off the pants to leave the dead, teenage boy in his boxers.

"What're ya doin'?" Daryl asked.

"Changing." Wilmur replied. "I can't stay in these cloths any longer."

Daryl scoffed and shined the flashlight down on his cloths which was a vest he's wore since the beginning. He never took it off or bothered to change at all. He didn't care about the cloths he wore anymore because it couldn't protect you from the walkers. He knew eventually the cloths would get soggy from the blood and dirt but he didn't care. He's felt much worse things than soggy and bloody cloths.

He shined the flashlight on Wilmur who was walking behind a cloths rack filled with different golf uniforms. He didn't understand why Wilmur didn't just pick a golf uniforms because they were more stiff and could last a lot longer without getting dirty much.

Wilmur looked up and glared to see Daryl shining the flashlight right on him. "Don't look."

Daryl scoffed and looked away as Wilmur started to change. He could see his ribcages were swollen from being broken and some bruises on his hips and sides were infected because too much dirt and blood got in it. He winced as he brushed his fingers against one of the wounds and bit his lip to keep himself from shrieking.

He needed to desperately rest and heal, but he couldn't until he found Carl. The second he starts to rest, Carl will get farther and farther away. He needed to find him as fast as he can before any other danger beats him to him.

Wilmur ignored the wounds and buttoned up his grey flannel before taking his crimson, bloody shoes off and pulling up his new blue jeans. He put the dirty converse on and tied up the strings before stepping out from behind the cloths rack to see Beth reaching for a small glass with wine barely in it and Daryl stuffing money and jewelry in a fancy, black bag.

"What're you doing?" Wilmur asked Daryl, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

Beth turned around after hearing Wilmur to see Beth stuffing money and jewelry in a bag. "Why are you keeping all that stuff?"

Daryl just stared at both of them as he continued to stuff supplies they didn't need in the black bag. All three of them flinched when walkers started banging on the door that Daryl locked with a golf club. Daryl quickly stuffed the last of the money and jewelry in the bag before rushing to another room with Beth and Wilmur behind him.

Wilmur slammed the door shut before picking up a golf club and locking it through the handles just like Daryl did with the other door. He kept his hand placed over his knife as he followed Daryl and Beth in another room. Wilmur searched the small shelves in the room for supplies.

He followed Beth in another dark room filled with trash and containers. He searched the containers for any kind of food or bullets hiding in there but couldn't find any. He looked back up to see Beth shining her flashlight against rubber curtains. He followed her through them and into another room which had tomato sauce and one beer bottle in it.

Beth climbed up on the shelf to reach for beer bottle while Wilmur reached for the tomato sauce. He knew it wasn't really food but it was definitely better than nothing. The pans clattered against the floor as they stepped back on it. He stuffed the tomato sauce in his small bag just before a walker suddenly jumped on Beth.

Wilmur was quick to yank his knife out of his belt and shove the walker against the wall before smashing his knife in it's skull. He threw the walker to the floor in rage and began kicking it's skull opened. Beth pulled him away from the walker and looked up at Daryl who was standing right in front of them.

"Oh, so you let Wilmur almost get himself killed?" Beth said angrily.

Daryl scoffed. "Wilmur can take care of himself. Why do ya think he's not my son anymore?"

Beth clenched her beer bottle tighter as a growl threatened to escape her gritted teeth. Her eyes softened when she stared at Wilmur who now had fresh blood on his cheeks and left shoe. It was because of Daryl, Wilmur already had blood on his new cloths.

Daryl shot them both a glare before walking to another room, leaving Wilmur and Beth to search the room beside them which had sunlight slipping through. On the wall had painted, black words which said welcome to the dog trot. Metal shelves had cloths and bags laying on it with dead bodies laying on the ground below them.

They groaned as they covered their noses from the stench filling the disgusting air of the nasty building. Wilmur quickly rushed out of the room with Beth behind him and followed Daryl down a stair way. At the bottom laid trophies with golfing men on it with a fallen shelf beside it.

Daryl crawled under the shelf with Wilmur and Beth just behind him. He shined the flashlight against the glass particles on the floor that came from the broken trophies. He kicked tiny pieces of the glass on Wilmur's cheeks by an accident, scraping blood across his face.

"Oh, gee. Thanks a lot." Wilmur grumbled and pushed glass right back up against Daryl in revenge.

He followed Beth to a room filled with fresh cloths. As soon as he heard Beth gasp upon stepping on a walker's hand, he yanked her away. However, the hand she stepped on wasn't a walker's but a fake model's.

"Sorry." She whispered to him but he shook his head, rejecting the apology.

Beth sighed and made her way over to a cloths rack filled with fresh and clean cloths for teenage girls while Wilmur looked at the fake models to see they had their shirts ripped off and a sign hanging from their neck written in blood as it dripped down their body.

He was starting to think instead of the people killing themselves, someone came in and killed them all in a horrible way. Blood was stained against the fake models and the wooden floors. A single bullet was in one of the fake model's hand. Slowly, he grasped it from them and put it in his pistol. He was out of ammo for a week or more and was lucky he survived without his gun. But now he had one bullet and he had to make it count.

He looked at one of the bloody, fake models that had a sign written in blooded around her neck that said rich bitch. Beth and Daryl shined their bright flashlights on it. Wilmur looked at Beth who had a new and clean, yellow shirt on with a white over shirt over it. Her new cloths smelled much better than her last ones but blood was bound to stain against it just like it did on the fake models.

Beth tried to move it to take it down, but she struggled as she done so. She couldn't leave the fake model like that. It would be too brutal and cold.

"Help me take her down." Beth said, looking up at Wilmur and Daryl.

Wilmur shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter." Beth retorted.

Daryl and Wilmur sighed before helping Beth take the model down. As soon as Wilmur touched it, he realized it wasn't a model but a real person who was killed and tied up where a fake model should lay. Daryl picked up a purple sheet from the floor and threw it on the dead woman so they didn't have to take it down.

"There." Daryl said.

Beth sighed and followed Daryl out of the room with Wilmur staying behind to look at the dead woman one last time before following them out of the room. He flinched when a clock started chiming and looked back at it before deciding to ignore it and follow Daryl.

They stopped in a doorway to see a few or more walkers heading their way. Beth and Wilmur quickly rushed out of the hallway and down to a bright room Wilmur stayed behind Beth with rock knife clenched in his hand as he watched Daryl take care of the walkers.

Daryl hit the one last walker with a golf club and smashed it to the floor before hitting it hard a thousand times. He hit the walker's head like hitting a golf ball and killed it. Blood splattered out of it's head and landed against Wilmur and Beth's new cloths. Beth glared at him and took off her white over shirt, leaving her in her yellow shirt while walking out of the room.

Wilmur turned to glare at Daryl before following Beth out to see a small bar. A smile crept on Beth's lips as she stared at the bar, her grip on her flashlight loosening. She could finally get her hands on liquor and drink all the pain away. She knew the pain would come right back after she wasn't drunk anymore, but she needed to get her mind off everything like Wilmur needed to.

"We made it." Beth said, looking back at Daryl. "I know you think this is stupid. And it probably is. But...I don't care. All I wanted to do today was lay down and cry, but we don't get to do that. So...beat up walkers if that makes you both feel better. I need to do this."

Wilmur watched as Beth walked in the bar and looked back at Daryl. "Me, too." He said and followed Beth in the bar.

He wasn't absolutely sure about drinking since he was so young, but he was absolutely sure he wanted the pain to go away even for a few minutes. Beating walkers in the most brutal way didn't help him at all. It just made him feel worse because it reminded him of what they've done to the world.

However, if he drank too much liquor, he would see the world in a new light. The pain would sink away for a while and it would bring him relief. He didn't want to get frustrated or worry about Carl too much. All he wanted was to be with Carl. But he wasn't there and he needed something else to lessen the pain.

The bar was filled with broken and empty beer bottles laying everyone on the tables and the bar. Glass particles covered every spot in the room. A pool table laid at the side with it's balls laying across the table.

He remembered how much his uncle loved beer. He heard he always got drunk when he was a teen but when he was born, he was strict on the amount of beers he drank. He allowed himself to only have two once a week. His mother was hesitate to let him go there, but she let him and he got along well with his uncle.

However, he knew he was dead just like his entire family was. He didn't try to escape with him, Philip, and Penny. Instead, he stayed behind and died. Now the entire Blake family was dead except him. If he died, the Blake family would be deceased.

Wilmur followed Beth behind the bar, looking for any good bottle or drink. He watched as Beth pulled out a full bottle of liquor and stared down at it. It was obvious to him she was nervous. She never had a drink because her father told her to never drink. But now she was breaking his rule.

"Get me a glass." Wilmur said. "I want some, too."

Beth furrowed her eyebrows. "You sure?

Wilmur nodded. "Yeah. I don't care if I'm too young."

Beth hesitated, but grabbed a glass anyway an handed it to Wilmur. Some part of her was protective over him, and she didn't want him drinking. However, it wasn't her choice because those rules didn't apply anymore.

The sound of glass breaking turned Wilmur's and Beth's attention to Daryl who broke a glass picture and was pulling the picture out of the broken glass frame.

Beth scoffed, walking out from behind the bar with Wilmur behind her. "Did you have to break the glass?"

"No." Daryl grumbled. "You have your drink yet?"

"No." Beth replied, holding up her and Wilmur's beer bottle. "But we found this."

Wilmur sat next to Beth and stared at the clear liquor in the bottle. His fingers were already shaking because he was so nervous to drink his first liquor, especially since he was too young. But he had to drink the pain away because there was no other way until he found Carl.

The young teen gently stroked the beer bottle with his trembling fingers. His fingers traced over the title as he stared at the liquor inside, reminding him of Bob. He remembered how he was puking out blood in the car and Bob gave him a beer bottle to force the blood to go back down his veins. He couldn't remember how the liquor tasted, but he remembered how much Bob wanted to drink it.

"Peach schnapps?" Wilmur questioned with nervousness as his fingers traced over the title.

Beth nodded, gently grasping his hands when she heard the nervous tone in his voice. "You don't have to do this. I bet it's not even good."

"It ain't." Daryl replied from behind them.

Beth sighed. "Well, it's the only thing left."

Daryl ignored her and picked up darts from a dart board, beginning to throw them at a frame showing pictures of eight, famous people all in a circle. He was hoping it would make him feel better, but he knew it wouldn't."

While Daryl threw darts at the pictures, Beth poured a glass for Wilmur and handed it to him. His fingers grasped onto his cup as he stared at it with nervousness in his eyes. His fingers were shaking nearly to death as he stared at the clear liquor in his glass cup.

Tears of frustration started filling his crystal blue eyes as he stared down at the liquor. They slowly began to drip down his cheeks as sobs escaped his lips. His eyes darted to Beth who was struggling to lift up the bottle and put it in her mouth. Tears were dripping down her cheeks as well as they stared at the liquor.

No matter how much they wanted to get rid of the pain and put the liquor on their tongue, they couldn't. In the past, they were taught not to drink when they were young but they weren't crying just because of that. They were crying because their parents told them not to drink. It reminded them of their loving parents far too much that they were scared to death to drink it.

Suddenly, Daryl grabbed the liquor bottle and Wilmur's glass and threw it to the floor, shattering it to pieces. They stared at the new glass particles spreading across the floor and sinking in the liquor.

Daryl turned to look at them with a simple glare in his eyes. "Ain't gonna have y'all's first drink be no damned peach schnapps."

They watched as Daryl picked up his crossbow and walked out of the building. They both knew he was going to get them some liquor that actually tasted good. Something that would actually calm their frustrating and anger down.

"C'mon." Daryl said.

Wilmur and Beth obeyed, getting up from their chairs and following Daryl out of the golf building. They stepped back in the green woods with their hands placed over their knives. He sniffled as he looked up at the green leafs on the trees. The sunlight shined brightly through them and gleamed on their skin.

Wilmur wiped another tear trailing down his cheek and sniffled. He was still nervous about having his first drink and he shouldn't be. This was something that would ease the pain for a while. It should be something that'll bring him relief.

"A motorcycle mechanic." Beth suddenly said.

Wilmur furrowed his eyebrows at her. He didn't know what she was talking about like Daryl didn't. He turned his head to look at her with his furrowed eyebrows.

"Huh?" Daryl said.

"That's my guess." Beth replied. "For what you were doin' before the turn. Did Zach ever guess that one?"

Daryl sighed. "It don't matter. Hasn't mattered for a long time."

"It's just what people talk about, you know, to feel normal." Beth said. "Wilmur talks about his past all the time."

"Yeah, well, that never felt normal for me." Daryl grumbled.

Wilmur rolled his eyes at Daryl, still clutching his knife just in case anything popped out. He heard about what the old Daryl was like in the beginning of the outbreak. He was ruthless and cold along with his older brother. But he softened over time because he had a family who cared for him. But now he's lost that family.

However, Daryl didn't understand. Wilmur lost his entire family. His father, his mother, and his sister was gone. Now he was all alone with no one to understand him. Even though he hated his father so much, some part of him still loved him.

Wilmur sighed and closed his eyes as he followed Daryl to a small, wooden building in the middle of the woods. There was a small garden filled with all kinds of decorations. He furrowed his eyebrows at it because he was expecting a bar, not a house.

"Found this place with Michonne." Daryl said.

"When?" Wilmur asked. He always went on a run with Daryl and never found that place.

Daryl shrugged. "It was a few months after everything with the Governor ended."

Beth stared at it with furrowed eyebrows. She hadn't expected a house either. She thought she was see a huge bar with liquor painted all over the counters but instead she found a small, wooden house with a garden.

"I was expecting a liquor store." Beth said.

"No, this is better." Daryl replied, walking toward the building.

They followed Daryl behind a small building to see an even smaller one from behind. He creaked open the brown door and picked up some bottles, putting them in a crate before picking the crate up.

"What is it?" Beth asked, curiousness filling her light blue eyes.

Daryl handed the crate to her. "Moonshine."

Wilmur remembered moonshine was his uncle's favorite liquor. That was the only beer he would see if he opened his refrigerator for a small snack or a cold drink. He learned it might taste bad after the first sip but would taste better after the second.

Beth carried the liquor in the small, filthy building. Daryl held his crossbow up while Wilmur held up his pistol. He looked around the filthy, small building, making sure no walkers happened to slip in. He sat down on one of the yellow chairs crowding a table filled with papers and dirty dishes.

He gently brushed his fingers against his swollen ribcages through his shirt and winced before looking down at his three broken fingers. He could still feel his father's fist slamming against his cheeks and his foot bashing his ribcages. He can still see the glare in his cold, blue eye.

His father was the cause for all the pain Wilmur was having. He was the reason why he was about to drink some liquor which he would probably regret in the future. But he needed to sink all the pain away at least for a few hours.

Beth set the crate filled with moonshine in front of him before sitting in the next yellow chair. Daryl blew the dirt and filth off his dirty hands before grabbing two cups and pouring the moonshine in it.

"All right." Daryl whispered to himself, pouring the moonshine in their cups and setting it in front of them. "That's a real first drink right there."

Beth and Wilmur stared nervously at the cups with a little bit of moonshine in it. Fear was creeping in Wilmur's eyes while nervousness crept in Beth's. His fingers were trembling as he rested them against his lap while he stared through the clear liquor of moonshine.

"What's the matter?" Daryl asked when he noticed the look in Beth and Wilmur's eyes.

"I'm really nervous to drink it." Wilmur replied.

"Me, too." Beth admitted. "My dad always said bad moonshine can make you go blind."

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't nothing worth seeing out there anymore. Besides, it's really good."

Wilmur sighed. "Yeah, well, I'm still nervous."

Beth placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll go first."

A tiny smile forced across Wilmur's lips, showing relief and nervousness as he watched Beth take a tiny sip of the moonshine liquor. She scrunched her nose up as soon as the liquor landed against her active taste buds.

"That's the most disgusting thing I ever tasted." Beth said, her nose still scrunched up.

Daryl shrugged, motioning for her to try it again. Beth sighed and took another tiny sip of the moonshine, drinking the entire thing when the new taste landed against her tongue. A smile crept on her lips as the moonshine forced her taste buds to activate against the strong liquor.

Beth chuckled. "Second round's better. Try it Wilmur. It's not bad after your first taste."

Wilmur's breath trembled nervously as his fingers weakly grasped the small cup filled with not much liquor. He could see his bruised reflection and the fear in his eyes just by looking at it. He hesitated as he lifted the glass up and placed it in his mouth, opening his lips to let the moonshine on his tongue.

He squinted his eyes at the disgusting taste and coughed in the cup, causing Beth to chuckle and pat his back. His nose scrunched up as he went for the second round, letting the strong liquor spread across his active taste buds as it positively reacted with his tongue. He pulled the cup out of his mouth, smiling as he looked down at it.

Beth giggled. "It's good, isn't?"

Wilmur chuckled and let Beth pour more moonshine in his glass cup before she poured some in hers. He started to drink more of the moonshine and liked it even better with his third taste.

"Slow down." Daryl told Wilmur and Beth.

Beth smiled. "This one's for you."

"Nah, I'm good." Daryl rejected.

Wilmur furrowed his eyebrows at Daryl as he drank his liquor. He could already see Daryl in different colored cloths because it tasted so good. He didn't understand why Daryl wouldn't want to have the good liquor.

"Why?" Beth asked, curiousness filling her eyes.

Like Wilmur thought, the moonshine tasted really good after a couple or few tastes. After all, he and Michonne was the one who found it after all.

"Someone's gotta keep watch." Daryl replied.

Beth shrugged. "So, what, you're like my chaperone now?"

"Just enjoy it, Daryl. Relax for a while." Wilmur told him.

Daryl shook his head. "We can't."

"You mean you can't?" Beth corrected.

"Just drink lots of water." Daryl said, walking over to the window to board it up.

"Yes, ." Beth replied, drinking her moonshine.

Wilmur couldn't tell if Daryl and Beth were joking or arguing again. Daryl was very protective over himself when it came to survival. He hardly risked anything that would cause any death. He never seemed to relax. Even at the prison since he went on runs every single day.

Boarding up the windows was something Daryl always did. If he found some simple shelter, the first thing he would do was board up the doors and windows. He never wanted anything dead or alive breaking in even though he had a rope with metal on it and it would cling if a walker or human happened to come in their shelter.

Daryl needed to relax though. He hasn't relaxed ever since the outbreak started and that was about two years ago. All he ever managed to do was look after the group and go on dangerous runs with Glenn.

Wilmur missed Glenn. He and Hershel was one of the most good men alive in the entire destroyed world. They were both willing to risk their lives for the entire group just to keep everyone alive.

It was why Wilmur desperately needed a drink so he could get drunk and forget about everyone they've lost for at least a few hours. He needed to see the world in a bright light instead of a dark one.

Beth got up from her yellow chair and searched the room while he continued to drink moonshine and Daryl boarded up the walls. After the glass got empty, he would pour more moonshine in and drink it in fifteen seconds. The moonshine forced his taste buds to act crazy against the strong liquor as it spreaded across his tongue. He poured another glass and watched as Beth pulled out a pink, plastic bra and chuckled when she chucked.

"Who'd go into a store and walk out with this?" Beth questioned, chuckling.

The pink, plastic bra had millions of used cigarettes in it with some falling out of it and falling to the filthy floor. Wilmur giggled in his liquor as he drank it upon seeing the plastic bra filled with cigarettes.

"My dad, that's who." Daryl replied as he boarded up the windows. "Oh, he's a dumbass. He'd set those up on top of the TV set, use them as target practice."

If Wilmur wasn't drinking too much liquor, it would've reminded him of his father but he couldn't think of him because of the moonshine forcing his broken heart to be happy. He knew Daryl's father was a bit physically and mentally abusive toward him and Merle.

"He shot things inside your house?" Beth questioned, shock filling her pale blue eyes.

"It was just a bunch of junk anyway." Daryl replied, shrugging. "That's how I knew what this place was. That shed out there, my dad had a place just like this. You got your dumpster chair. That's for sitting in and your drawers all summer drinking. Got your fancy buckets. That's for spitting chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smoking."

Wilmur listened to Daryl as he drank too much moonshine. He watched as Daryl walked over to a newspaper and pick it up, showing it to Beth.

"You got your-your internet." Daryl continued, throwing it on the floor before turning to look at him. "What about your dad, Wilmur?"

The young teen coughed as he drank the liquor, pulling it out of his mouth. "My dad was nothing like that. Believe it or not, we lived in a nice home with internet."

"That's hard to believe." Daryl said.

Wilmur shrugged. "He wasn't bad until the outbreak."

Walkers suddenly interrupted them from outside. While Wilmur continued drinking his liquor, Daryl stared out the boarded and half opened window to see one walker.

"It's just one of 'em." Daryl said.

"Should be get it?" Beth questioned quickly.

Daryl shrugged. "If it keeps making too much noise, yeah."

Beth looked at a moonshine jar laying in the floor and picked it up, smiling as she looked at it. "Well, if we're gonna be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it. Enjoy it like Wilmur is. Unless you're too busy chaperoning, ."

Daryl looked back at Wilmur to see him drinking far too much moonshine far too fast. Immediately after the bottle went empty, he grabbed another moonshine jar and filled it right up again to finish it in fifteen seconds.

He sighed and grabbed the jar filled with moonshine. "Hell, might as well make the best of it."

Daryl sat in the sofa and opened the jar up, not bothering to pour it in a glass. Wilmur smiled and shifted his position in his yellow chair so he could face Daryl and Beth. He continued pouring more and more moonshine in his glass and drank more than enough.

Beth smiled as she watched Wilmur finally smile. He's been upset and depressed way too much since the prison was destroyed and she was glad to finally find a way to cheer him up. She knew nothing could get rid of the pain of missing Carl, but at least the liquor could help him deal with it.

Wilmur grabbed another filled jar and poured more moonshine in his glass before drinking it all up in fifteen seconds. He stared at Daryl who was enjoying the liquor himself. He smiled as he watched Daryl drink while he drank. It was the first time since the prison was destroyed that Daryl was finally enjoying himself like he was.

However, Wilmur wanted more. He wanted to do something extra fun and something like playful torturing to get rid of the silence between all of them.

"Hey, can we play a game?" Wilmur asked, smiling as he held up his glass cup filled with moonshine. "I mean, something that has to do with this of course."

Beth smirked and nodded. "I know the perfect game but you'll have to sit over here."

Wilmur grinned and made his way over to Daryl and Beth, sitting down on the floor with his filled glass cup held in his hand. Beth moved a black crate between all of them and set a jar of moonshine on it along with their glass cups.

"So first I say something I've never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch between us." Beth said.

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He's never played this game before or really anything. His father and older brother always kept him locked up in the house with no games.

"You really don't know this game?" Beth questioned.

Daryl shrugged. "I never needed a game to get lit before."

"Wait," Beth said in confusion. "Are we starting?"

Daryl shrugged off the question. "How do y'all know this game?"

"My friends played." Beth replied. "I watched."

"And me and my best friend Anne played it all the time." Wilmur replied.

Wilmur missed Anne. She was very friendly, sweet, and funny. They always cracked a joke with each other and was always able to make each other laugh. They were partners on every single project they had in school and played different games together. But right now, the sweet liquor was making him happy so he didn't have time to mourn.

"I'll start." Beth said. "Daryl. I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."

Daryl picked up his jar, taking a sip. "Ain't much of a game."

"That was a warm-up." Beth retorted. "Now you go."

"I don't know." Daryl replied.

"Just say the first thing that pops in your head and challenge one of us."

Daryl groaned. "Wilmur. I've never been out of Georgia."

"Really?" Wilmur furrowed his eyebrows, taking a sip of his moonshine. "That's a shocker."

Beth was also shocked. It was weird to find that he never even went to the state below or above him. Everyone she knew went out of the state at least once on their life. One of her friends even went out of the country.

"Beth." Wilmur challenged. "I've never attempted suicide."

Beth flinched as she remembered how she tried to kill herself back at her father's farm because she was too depressed over her mother's death. Slowly, she picked up her glass and drank it.

Wilmur's eyes saddened. He knew he shouldn't have said that. He was only trying to get himself to drink more moonshine.

"Daryl. I've never..." Beth thought for a moment. "Been drunk and did something I regretted."

Daryl picked up his jar and began drinking the moonshine, letting the strong taste spread across his taste buds before putting it back down. "Wilmur. I've never been on vacation."

"What?!" Wilmur said, his eyebrows furrowed. He hesitantly picked up his glass and drank the moonshine, pouring more in his glass afterwards. "Now that's really shocking. Anyway, Beth. I've never gotten in a fight with my sister."

"Really? That's a bit shocking." Beth said, shock filling her eyes as she drank her moonshine. "Wilmur. I've never had to go to the hospital."

Wilmur smiled and drank his moonshine. After he broke up with Kevin, he punched him way too many times and he lost too much blood that he had to go to the hospital.

"Daryl." Wilmur said. "I've never ran away from home before the outbreak started."

Daryl picked up his jar and took a sip of his moonshine. He remembered running away when he was ten or eleven but came back home a couple or few days later.

"Wilmur." Daryl challenged. "I've never loved someone so much in a romantic way that I'd literally kill myself for them and make someone suffer the most painful death ever."

Wilmur thought of Carl and Kevin as he picked up his glass cup and took a tiny sip. He loved Kevin and Carl so much, but Kevin betrayed him in the end. However, after Kevin, he found a new love he'd literally do anything for.

"Beth." Wilmur challenged. "I've never skipped school."

Beth smirked. "Drink up."

The young teen laughed and took more than one sip of his moonshine.

"Daryl." Beth challenged. "I've never...been in jail. I mean, as a prisoner."

Wilmur stared at Daryl whose eyes are slowly starting to show anger, and that's when Wilmur knew Beth shouldn't have said that. Even though Daryl got drunk and did something he regretted, even though he beat up thousands of people, he's never been to jail, nor prison.

Merle was sent to jail thousands of times, but Daryl never was. He was always the sweet and soft one compared to his older brother. He was nothing like his brother and it hurt Daryl to think Beth thought he was a bad person before the outbreak.

"Is that what y'all think I am?" Daryl questioned both of them.

"I didn't need anything serious." Beth defended herself. "I just thought, you know, like the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that back in the day."

"Drink up." Daryl said, pointing at her glass of moonshine.

"Wait." Beth quickly said. "Prison guard. Were you a prison guard before?"

A small and simple glare was creeping up in Daryl's blue eyes. He was tired of Beth and Wilmur accusing him of everything. If he beat someone up to protect someone he loved, they'd be disappointed in him for it.

He curled his hand into a fist as he glared at Beth. "No."

Beth just kept the same smile on her face. However, Wilmur could tell there was regret through that smile on her lips. She didn't mean to accuse Daryl of anything. She just thought of his older brother who convinced him to do terrible things and caused him to go to jail. But she quickly realized that wasn't true.

"It's your turn again." Beth said, trying to shake off the anger in Daryl's eyes.

Daryl ignored Beth and pushed himself off the wooden floor. He stepped over Wilmur's legs and headed for the corner of the building. "I'm gonna take a piss."

He smashed his jar of moonshine down on the floor and unzipped the zipper on his pants, not caring how loud he was being.

"Shh." Wilmur said, his broken index finger placed over his lips.

"You have to be quiet." Beth snapped.

Daryl ignored them. "Can't hear y'all! I'm taking a piss!"

Beth put a strict look in her blue eyes as she stared at the archer. "Daryl, don't talk so loud." She growled quietly.

"What, are y'all my chaperone, now?!" Daryl yelled while he pissed in the floor.

Wilmur glared at Daryl and rolled his eyes before darting his eyes to the frustrated Beth. She knew it was wrong to snap at him earlier but she did it anyway and now he's snapped at her. However, that wasn't an excuse to start yelling and attract walkers.

"Oh, wait. It's my turn, right?" Daryl said loudly, zipping his zipper back up. "I've never-uh-never eaten frozen yogurt."

Wilmur glared at Daryl as he talked too loudly. It didn't matter if the game reminded him of his horrible past. It wasn't an excuse to start yelling at them. They were there to wash off the pain instead of rubbing it in. But Daryl didn't care. All he wanted to do was survive, not caring if Wilmur and Beth would stay alive or not.

"Never had a pet pony!" Daryl continued, hitting one of the yellow chairs. "Never got nothin' from Santa Claus! Never relied on anyone for protection before! Hell, I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anything!"

"Daryl." Beth said but he continued to yell.

Wilmur quickly stood up and grabbed Daryl's arm to calm him down, but he shoved him away in rage. Anger was in his eyes and rage was boiling his veins. He never got to have a happy life before and during the outbreak while others did. Beth always got everything she wanted and Wilmur bended everything and everyone to his will.

He never got to find true love like Wilmur did! He hardly found anyone to care about because no one gave a shit about him unlike Wilmur and Beth!

"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public like everything was fun! Like everything was a big game." Daryl continued as he shoved Wilmur away again, referring to Beth who always sang to people. "I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention!"

Beth flinched at the memory of how she tried to commit suicide but Lori took the gun away from her. Then her older sister, Maggie looked after her for hours before letting Andrea look after her. After she left and she was alone in the room, she locked herself in the bathroom and cut her arm open with a broken piece of glass from the mirror.

Wilmur stared at Beth as she flinched and moved her hand away from her glass which was almost empty. He could see the scar left on her arm from when she cut herself. He never attempted to commit suicide before. After Penny died, he wished to die along with her but he didn't attempt suicide! He wondered what happened to Beth that made her feel like she couldn't live anymore.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Daryl leaned in his bruised face and growled. "I never fell in love! Hell, I never found someone I loved so much in my entire life."

"Daryl-" Wilmur said, grasping his wrist but he yanked away. "Just calm down!"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Daryl yelled. "You got to have y'all's happy lives! Y'all got to sit around all day, watching TV and eating popcorn and goin' to school and falling in love! I didn't! I got none of that stuff!"

A walker suddenly began banging against the wooden building and snarled louder as it growled for it's food. It banged and growled louder every minute, attracting more walkers.

"Sounds like our friend out there is trying to call all of his buddies!"

"Daryl, just shut up." Beth growled.

Daryl took menacing steps toward them. "Hey, Beth. You never shot a crossbow before?! I'm gonna teach you right now!"

He yanked Wilmur and Beth up before dragging them outside harshly, ignored the wincing Wilmur gave when he pulled his broken wrist too hard.

He shoved them outside. "C'mon! It's gonna be fun!"

"We should stay inside!" Beth yelled as they were both shoved out of the wooden house. "Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!"

However, Daryl didn't listen to them and instead shot an arrow through a walker's chest. "Dumbass. Come here, dumbass!"

"Daryl, just stop!" Wilmur yelled but he didn't listen.

"You wanna shoot, Beth?!" Daryl yelled, grabbing Beth and pulling him toward her. "Help me, Wilmur!"

"No!" Wilmur yelled but then is yanked in Daryl's grip. "She doesn't know how! Just leave her alone!"

Daryl ignored him and held them both down as he forced Beth to hold the crossbow in the right corner as he yelled right in their ears. They both tried to pull away but Daryl was far too stronger than them.

"Let's practice later." Beth snapped, yanking away from his grip along with Wilmur.

"C'mon. It's fun." Daryl replied.

"Just stop this!" Wilmur growled, a death glare creeping in his eyes. "Quit acting like a bastard!"

Daryl didn't listen to them and yanked them both back in his grip, his strong arms wrapped around their necks. Wilmur desperately tried to fight against his grip but was failing due to being smaller and more injured than him. He glared as Daryl shot another arrow in the walker's chest pinned against the tree.

"Just kill it!" Beth yelled.

"C'mon, Blake!" Daryl yelled at Wilmur. "Let's pull these out and help Beth with a little more target practice!"

Beth rushed ahead of Wilmur and smashed her knife through the walker's skull, killing it. Daryl growled and took menacing steps toward her with Wilmur slowly pulling his pistol out of his holster wrapped around his leg. He wouldn't necessarily shoot Daryl but he had to get him off Beth.

"What the hell you do that for?! I was having fun!" Daryl yelled.

"No, you were being a jackass!" Beth yelled. "If anyone found my dad-"

"Don't!" Daryl yelled stepping in Beth's face and gritting his teeth. "That ain't remotely the same!"

Beth stepped back in Daryl's face, gritting her teeth as well. "Killing them is not suppose to be fun!"

"What'd you want from me, guys?!" Daryl stepped in his and Beth's faces.

"We want you to shut the hell up!" Wilmur screamed as loud as he could.

He didn't care if he was attracting walkers anymore. He was sick of Daryl's attitude! All he wanted to do was put himself before anything and anyone just so he could forget about the pain. He didn't care about the love he had for everyone in the prison anymore because he wanted to forget and it was bullshit!

After everything they've gone through together. After everything they did to keep each other alive. Daryl wanted to throw it all in the trash so he could forget about what the Governor done to the prison. And Wilmur was sick of it.

"You used to care about others and now you're totally focused on yourself because-because you want to forget about everything that's happened to us! You want to throw it all in the trash so you can forget about your pain!" Wilmur screamed.

"That is not true!" Daryl yelled.

"Uh, yeah, it is!" Wilmur screamed. "You just want to treat me and Beth like shit because you think you can use us as bait to get rid of your pain! Well, let me tell you something, Daryl! Beth and I are not bait! We're here now and we won't be treated like shit because of your selfish greed!"

"What the hell do you want me to do?! Sit around and cry all day?!" Daryl yelled.

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anything!" Beth yelled before Wilmur could even speak. "Like nothing we went through matters! Like none of the people you lost mean anything to you! Wilmur's right! You just wanna throw them away so you can't feel your pain! It's bullshit!"

Daryl scoffed. "Is that what y'all think?"

"That's what we know." Beth corrected.

"Y'all don't know nothing." Daryl yelled.

"I know you look at us and just see another dead person." Beth yelled. "I'm not Michonne! I'm not Carol! I'm not Maggie!"

"Yeah, she's right!" Wilmur yelled. "You think we're dead so you can use us as bait! You think I'm Carl and Rick but I'm not! Hell, you think I'm the Governor but I'm nothing like him like you are, bitch!"

Daryl took menacing steps toward Wilmur. "I'm nothing like the Governor!"

"You're using us as bait, Daryl!" Wilmur screamed. "Just like my father used me as bait so he could forget about my mom and sister's death!"

"You fucking use me as bait so you can find your boyfriend!" Daryl snapped. "But let me tell you somethin'! You're boyfriend's dead!"

"Shut up!" Wilmur yelled. "You just assume that because you don't want to face the pain again!"

"Did you see what your stupid father did to Beth's dad?! Do you and Beth have any idea what he did to the prison?!"

"We saw it all, Daryl!" Beth yelled. "I saw the people dying but I also saw some escape with my own eyes! Molly and Luke escaped! We escaped! If we did then others did, too! We survived and you don't get it 'cause we're not like you or them! But we made it and you don't get to treat us like crap just because you're afraid!"

Daryl leaned in Beth's face as growls threaten to ripple out of his chest and escape past his gritted teeth. "I ain't afraid nothin'!"

Beth glared at him as she saw straight through his lie. "I remember. When that little girl came out of the barn after my mom. You were like me."

Wilmur furrowed his eyebrows as he didn't recall any little girl being in their group. However, he did recall Carl telling him about his best friend who died on Hershel's farm. He could remember the look on Carl's face as he told him about her like it was yesterday.

He looked up at Beth who was leaning in Daryl's face with her teeth gritting together. "And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close."

"Too close, huh?" Daryl said with growls rippling out of his throats. "You know all about that. You lost two boyfriends, you can't even shed a tear! Your whole family's gone, all you can do is just go out looking for a hooch like some dumb college bitch!"

"Screw you. You don't get me and Wilmur at all." Beth snapped.

"No, y'all don't get it!" Daryl yelled, his face boiling red from the anger. "Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that!" Beth yelled.

"You might as well be, 'cause y'all ain't never gonna see 'em again!" Daryl yelled in their faces with his fists clenching from the rage. "Rick. Maggie."

Daryl leaned in Wilmur's face, gritting his teeth in rage and letting the growls escape past them. "You ain't never gonna see Carl again!"

"Just shut up!" Wilmur screamed, grabbing Daryl's arm but he yanked away.

"No!" He yelled, turning away from their angry faces with tears filling his vengeful eyes as he thought of everyone they lost all because of him. Because he let the Governor destroy everything and everyone they had. "The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me!"

"Daryl." Wilmur said more calmly, grabbing his arm but he pulled away.

He now knew why Daryl was so angry. It wasn't just because the Governor destroyed the prison and killed Hershel. It was because him and Michonne gave up on looking for the Governor and that caused him to destroy the prison. He was blaming himself but it wasn't his fault because the Governor had an entire army. They would've lost for sure.

Daryl assumed everyone was dead because he searched for the Governor more such a long time and didn't find a single clue. If he couldn't find any traces of the Governor then how could they find any traces left by there loved ones? It was because Daryl gave up.

"Daryl." Wilmur and Beth said at the same time, grabbing his arm but he pulled away again.

"No-" Daryl's cracked voice cut him off as he thought of Hershel. "And your dad. Maybe-maybe I could've done somethin'."

Beth and Wilmur cut Daryl off by pulling him in a tight embrace. That's when tears slowly started to drip down Daryl and Wilmur's cheeks. The embrace wasn't only to comfort Daryl but to comfort himself, too. After everything they worked so hard to protect and everyone they loved so much, they lost it all.

It was all because of the Governor. He destroyed everything and suffocated them so much as if he sucked up the oxygen. None of it was Daryl's fault. Everything was blamed on the Governor.

"Listen up!" Said a strict man. "We found what was left of Martinez in a pit this morning."

Everyone in the crowd gasped as they looked at each other. Their leader was now dead and they now needed another one. But no one would be able to replace a leader as good as Martinez.

"Looks like he was hitting some golf balls, he got drunk, he fell in." The strict man continued as everyone in the crowd gasped.

"So now what?" Asked the same younger woman.

Another man who was the younger brother of the strict man stepped up. "I'm taking leadership of the camp."

The crowd immediately started complaining but the younger brother of the strict man held his hand up to stop the crowd from getting out of control.

"Hold on now. Hold on now!" The younger brother of the strict man said.

An old man stepped up. "We should vote on who leads right?"

The crowd agreed and sided up on him. They wanted to choose who they thought would make a good leader like the new man that just came in more than a few days ago.

"You can't just take over." The younger sister of the mother said.

"Shut your mouth, you little bitch!" The strict man told the younger sister of the mother.

She growled and walked toward him. "What?!"

The crowd started rioting up against the strict man and the younger brother of the strict man while the army men stood up against them with their machine guns held in their hands.

"Hey! Calm down!" The younger brother of the strict man yelled. "Calm down, all of you!"

The crowd obeyed and looked upon their new leader with their loved ones held in their arms. They were frightened over what happened to Martinez. What if it happened again?

"We need each other now more than ever." The younger brother of the strict man said loudly. "The only way we get through this, through any of this, is together. Now this is temporary. We'll find some kind of way to do a vote in the next couple of days. For now, it's business as usual. Okay?"

The crowd seemed to be less calm now, knowing and hoping their will be a vote and change of leader. Hopefully, it'll be someone exactly like Martinez. Nothing could ever replace him, but they needed someone like him.

"You heard the man!" Yelled the strict man. "Move!"

The older man sighed as he watched the crowd move back to their work stations. He needed to be the leader because he knew how to lead them.

Besides, he had to find his son.

Wilmur sat beside Beth in front of Daryl as they sat on the porch with the moon and stars out in the night, crispy sky. The night air sent a shiver down their spine and arms as they stared up at the stars.

Beth and Wilmur were happy drunk and could see the world in different colors and different light. Wilmur could see a beautiful, rushing river up ahead with sparkling river rocks which wasn't really there. He could see Carl laughing and playing with his baby sister in the river.

He knew he wasn't actually there, but it made him feel better. Instead of thinking about how he and Carl were separated, he thought about their love for each other and how it made him smile. It was because the liquor made him feel better and gave him new light to the world.

Although he loved the liquor, he couldn't get drunk again because he needed to put Carl first. What he did was a one time thing and he only needed to do it to keep himself going in the destroyed world filled with dead people and bad people walking around.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking." He heard Beth say.

"You feel sick?" Daryl asked, his voice much more calmer than before like his and Beth's.

Beth shook her head, her arms crossed. "Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time. That's bad."

Daryl groaned. "Y'all are lucky you're a happy drunk."

"Yeah, we're lucky." Beth replied. "Some people can be real jerks when they drink."

"Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk." Daryl replied, weakly smiling.

Wilmur sighed and looked up at the bright stars with his arms crossed as he listened to the jar bugs chat in the green trees. He loved hearing that noise because it always relaxed him even though it didn't at first because it reminded him the prison was destroyed. But now that he was happy drunk, he liked it because it relaxed him and showed that part of the old world was still there.

He listened to the owls humming in the trees and the wolves howling in the distance. Everything was so peaceful and quiet and colorful due to being drunk. He wondered what Carl was doing out in the chilling woods or in the warm houses.

"Do you think we'll ever find Carl?" Wilmur asked Daryl. "And be honest. I want to know what you think."

Daryl hesitated before shrugging. "If you believe then I believe. Everything you believe, it happens."

Beth smiled. "I think we're goin' to find everybody. No matter how hard it gets."

"Yeah, but when we do find whoever, we gotta keep what we did a secret." Wilmur joked, chuckling slightly.

Daryl and Beth chuckled along but silence immediately fell between them. The only thing they could hear was the owls humming, the wolves howling, and the jar bugs singing. Wilmur could also hear the rushing river, but it wasn't really there.

"Merle had this dealer." Daryl broke the silence. "This janky little white guy. A tweaker. One day we were over at his house watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up. Merle never could. Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show."

Wilmur sighed as he knew what was going to happen next. He remembered how everybody in school bullied him. It only resulted in the bullies getting beat up which caused him to get suspended from school countless times.

"And he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty about it or somethin'." Daryl continued. "So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hitting the tweaker, like, hard. As hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here." Daryl pointed to his temple.

Wilmur listened to Daryl's story and caught interest in it when he mentioned the tweaker pulled a gun on Daryl like almost everyone else did when the outbreak started.

"He says, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch.'" Daryl continued. "So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yelling. I'm yelling. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talking dog."

"How'd you get out of it?" Beth asked.

"...The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it."

Wilmur remembered how students in school bullied him when Kevin posted pictures of him sleeping with him around the school. He always got in violent fights and he was always blamed for it.

"You wanna know what I was before all this?" Daryl questioned them. "I was just drifting around with Merle...doin' whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody...nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother."

"You miss him, don't you?" Beth asked. "I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around. I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoying and overprotective. And my dad. I thought-I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby and he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics. And he'd get really old. And it'd happen but it'd be quiet. It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by people he loved."

Wilmur had unbelievable thoughts like she did, too. He thought one day, when he and Carl were older, they'd get married and somehow have children. They would have their anniversary's and their birthdays, and then they'd die together. But then the Governor marched right up to their gates and destroyed every last one of them.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Beth chuckle and sob at the same time. She couldn't believe she let herself think like that and she felt like a weakling for doing so.

"That's how unbelievably stupid I am." Beth's voice cracked, picking up her glass cup and drinking more moonshine.

"That's how it's suppose to be." Daryl said.

Beth looked up at the beautiful stars and moon in the dark sky which was lit up by the moonlight. "I wish I could just...change."

"You did." Wilmur replied. "Just like I did."

"Not enough." Beth replied. "Not like y'all. It's like you were both made for how things are now."

Daryl shrugged. "I'm just used to it, things being ugly. Growing up in a place like this."

"Well, you got away from it." Beth responded.

"I didn't." Daryl retorted.
"You did." Beth immediately replied.

"Maybe you gotta keep on reminding me sometimes." Daryl replied.

Beth shook her head. "No. You can't depend on anybody for anything, right?"

Daryl didn't respond and instead, stared at the stars in the beautiful sky. It was so peaceful. No walkers could be heard heading their way.

"I'll be gone someday." Beth continued.

"Stop." Daryl and Wilmur said at the same time.

"I will." Beth replied. "You are both gonna be the last men standing. You both are. You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon and Wilmur Blake."

Daryl chuckled. "You both ain't happy drunk at all."

"Yeah, we're happy. We're just not blind." Beth replied. "You gotta stay who you are, not who you were. Places like this, you have to put it away."

Daryl looked back in the sky. "What if you can't?"

"You have to." Beth replied. "Or it kills you."

It was true. Wilmur remembered how he was Justin and it killed his heart. He refused to let any feelings slip in his heart just to keep the pain away. But then he met Carl and brought him back.

"We should go inside." Daryl said, looking at the bright moon in the sky.

Beth giggled. "We should burn it down."

Daryl pulled himself off the porch, heading toward the door before turning around to see the disappointing looks on their faces. He smirked to himself. "We're gonna need more booze."

Beth and Wilmur laughed before following Daryl back in the building, grabbing the booze and throwing it all over the wooden floor and walls. They laughed as they threw the booze all around the building and spreaded it everywhere. They threw it against the boarded windows and the wooden door and over the tables and sofas.

They quickly rushed out of the building and stood in front of it. Daryl pulled pounds of dollar bills out of his bag along with a lighter, handing the lighter over to Beth and part of the money to Wilmur.

"Y'all wanna?" He asked.

Wilmur nodded and Beth chuckled, taking the lighter while Wilmur took the dollar bills. She lit the money on fire and they both threw it toward the building, setting it on fire. The bright fire spreaded across the porch and made it's way in the building as they slowly backed away from it.

Daryl threw a jar bottle in the fire and stared at it as the fire grew larger and larger along with Beth and Wilmur. They watched as the building slowly stared to burn down in the bright, orange fire.

Beth suddenly stuck her middle finger up at the burning building, motioning for Wilmur and Daryl to do the same. They both chuckled and did as told, sticking their middle fingers up at the building as it burned to the ground.

Slowly, they started to walk in the deep dark woods, beginning their journey to search for Carl all over again.