Beta looked up from where he'd been sitting on the ground, sharpening his knives. A small commotion drew his attention away from the task, and he stood up when one of his people approached him.

"Delta is back." Beta's expression grew hard, and he sheathed the knife he was sharpening before responding to the man.

"Notify Alpha of her return." The man nodded, heading off in search of their leader. Beta watched him leave, then turned and stomped over to where a group of people had gathered, assuming Delta was among them. It had been two days since she'd been captured, and he was starting to believe she'd been killed.

She always managed to prove him wrong without realizing it.

Spotting her small figure standing amongst a small squadron, mask on her face with dark blood splattered on her clothes, he made his way towards her, and their people spread apart, making a path for him.

Delta lifted her head and saw him striding towards her, and her eyes grew wide, watching him with bated breath. She had to hide her shock that he was still alive, although simultaneously she wasn't surprised that he hadn't died. He looked her over, taking note of her arm wrapped around her center, realizing she must have been injured in some way. When he was done inspecting her, he looked back into her eyes and held out his hand. Delta released a breath, reaching her free hand out and clasping Beta's forearm, words being unnecessary, the gesture said everything that needed to be said.

Welcome home.

"Delta." Both of their heads turned in the direction of Alpha's voice, seeing her standing there, mask on and watching the exchange.

Beth released Beta's arm and turned away from him, gingerly stepping towards her leader, trying not to wince in pain. Alpha held up a hand to stop her, silently telling her that was close enough. It was obvious to her that she was wounded.

"Tell me everything, now."

Beth tried to steady her breathing, knowing that she had to make this story convincing, she needed to keep Alpha's trust.

Opening her mouth, she spoke softly.

Silence. That's all there was.

Daryl had no idea how much time had passed that way, with nobody speaking, nobody making a sound. He couldn't form a coherent thought, words escaping him. Even if he could find the words, his voice was gone. His ears were ringing, his heart was hammering behind his ribs, eyes unable to focus on anything but the ghost that was sitting in front of him.

Beth.

She was alive. He didn't understand how, but he didn't need to, not right now. His eyes were darting all over her form, drinking her appearance in. He noticed so many differences about her. Her hair was shorter, just barely past her shoulders, but it was still the pale yellow he remembered it being. She had three scars on her face, two he recalled having stitches in them, but the third...he wanted to throw up, seeing the small, round scar on her forehead, just below her hairline. That scar…that should have killed her.

And yet, here she was.

It suddenly all made sense to him. There'd been so many signs, so many hints as to who she really was. The scar on her wrist, it had reminded him of Beth, all those years ago, when they'd been on the road together. When she had shouted and distracted Beta, long enough for him to get an advantage and possibly saving his life, Delta's voice had sounded so similar to Beth's, it had scared him. And when she had spotted him in his hiding place, she didn't give away his location, giving him the opportunity to shove that giant asshole down the elevator shaft.

And those words she had said to him, about there still being good people in the world…why hadn't he seen it then? It all seemed so obvious, he felt like a fucking dumbass. But in the back of his mind, he knew why he hadn't realized it. Beth had taken a bullet to the brain. Even before the world went to shit, a head shot like that…the chances of survival were miniscule. In the apocalypse? Instant death.

So how?

They'd all lost so many members of their family over the years, the only thing Daryl wanted to do was hug her tight, but his feet were rooted to the floor. He had realized something else; he didn't know this Beth. It'd been over seven years since she 'died', there was no way she was the same person. She couldn't be, especially not if she was one of them. So, no, he didn't know her.

Not anymore.

It was Beth who broke the silence, clearing her throat and looking back and forth between Daryl and Michonne, an eyebrow raised.

"So…gonna untie me now?" Her voice broke the spell that seemed to have overtaken the room, and Michonne was the first to attempt to respond.

"How-" Beth knew what she was about to ask, and didn't let her finish.

"-Am I alive? Lucky shot, I guess." The double entendre wasn't amusing. Aaron, who'd been silent up until this point, finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but you all know each other?" He inquired, looking at Beth and moving to put his hand on Michonne's shoulder. The gesture seemed to snap Michonne out of her stupor, and she turned around, setting the fallen chair upright and putting it directly in front of Beth, dropping down in the seat. She was dumbfounded by the entire situation. Daryl was the only one who hadn't moved, completely frozen in place, but he'd managed to answer Aaron's question.

"We did." Daryl answering in a past-tense made Beth stare at him, her face impassive. She couldn't say that she didn't understand, because he wasn't wrong. At one point in time, they did know each other…but it'd been years. And she was, technically, the enemy. They couldn't just forget about that. Looking at Aaron, Daryl muttered to him.

"Can ya give us a min'?" Aaron only nodded, casting one final glance in Beth's direction, before leaving the room, taking a lantern with him. When he was gone, Michonne looked at Beth.

"How did you survive?" Michonne asked, her voice calmer than she appeared. Beth could only shrug.

"Like I said, lucky shot." She could feel Daryl glaring at her, but ignored him. "All I know is what the people at Grady told me. That you had to leave me behind because of a herd, and you hid my body in a trunk. They were gonna bury me, since y'all didn't get the chance." Daryl turned his body away, unable to face her and remember that day. "Couple of the officers went to get me, popped open the trunk, and imagine their surprise when they realized I wasn't dead."

Michonne looked visibly distraught, her face full of regret. Beth could only assume Daryl's was the same.

"Beth, we're sorry we left you. We had no idea…if we had…" Beth merely shook her head, stopping Michonne's unnecessary attempt at an apology.

"I'm not mad that y'all left, I understand why you did." Daryl's head snapped to look at her. How could she not be mad? They left her there, he left her there…

"I can hear you blamin' yourself from here, Daryl. Stop. It's not your fault." Instead of acknowledging what Beth had said, he turned and grabbed a stool, dragging it closer to her and Michonne. He sat down and leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin on top of his folded hands.

"Ya need ta tell us everythin'." Out of the hundreds of things Daryl wanted to say to Beth, this wasn't particularly one of them. But there was a time and a place for everything, and now just wasn't the time. He'd find the time later to talk to her, privately.

For now, they had bigger problems.

Beth tilted her head, considering her options.

"I will, but only if you answer some of my questions first," Beth glanced between them, "-and could you untie my wrists? This isn't exactly comfortable." Michonne and Daryl looked at each other, silently conveying their thoughts without speaking.

Standing up, Michonne walked behind Beth and reached for the rope binding her wrists, pulling the knots loose and freeing her hands. She stepped back over to her chair beside Daryl and sat down, watching Beth closely, as if she was waiting for her to run. Instead, the blonde simply thanked her and leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You said you had some questions." Beth looked at the dark-skinned woman, studying her for a moment.

"Obviously you and Daryl made it," she looked down, speaking softly, "-did anybody else? Did my sister…?" It was quiet for one beat, then two. To her surprise, it was Daryl who answered her.

"Most a'us made it. Lost a lot a people o'er tha years, tho'." Beth felt her heart stutter, terrified to know who had been lost, to the shit storm that was the world they lived in.

"Who?" Their lack of response irritated her, and she heaved a sigh in annoyance. "Just tell me." Michonne cleared her throat before answering.

"Maggie's alive, or at least she was, the last time we saw her." Beth furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What does that mean?"

"She was in charge of Hilltop, but she left, about a year ago. Took her son with her."

"She had a son?"

"With Glenn." While Beth was relieved her sister was alive, she didn't understand why she left.

"Why would they take their son and leave?" Daryl huffed out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

"S'no 'they'…" He looked Beth in the eye, "Glenn died, few months after we got here." Beth gasped, her eyes darting between them.

"How?" Michonne spoke this time.

"He was killed." Her shoulders slumped at the news. Her brother-in-law was dead, had been for years…and she'd had no idea. How many others had been lost? She closed her eyes and asked them, wanting to just get it over with, and had to brace herself for their answer.

"Bob, Tyreese, Noah…" Beth choked back a small sob. Noah died? All he'd wanted was to get out of that damn hospital and find his family. She didn't ask how, not really caring to know. It wouldn't make a difference. She listened as Michonne picked up where Daryl had left off.

"Sasha, Carl…Rick…" Michonne choked on the words, still mourning the loss of Rick and Carl, her heart aching. Beth felt her eyes burning. Basically, everybody they knew, the family they had created at the prison, they were pretty much all gone. A few names she didn't hear, so she had to ask if they'd somehow made it.

"Carol?" Daryl answered her, his response clipped.

"Alive, lives in tha Kingdom, with 'er husband." That surprised her. Carol was married? She supposed it made sense, though. Michonne speaking up pulled Beth from her thoughts.

"Judith is alive." Beth's eyes grew wide, and a small, but genuine smile formed on her face. Michonne studied her reaction, remembering how much the blonde had cared for the little girl. Maybe the old Beth was still there, buried deep beneath the layers.

"How old is she now?"

"Nine, give or take a few months." Beth knew her next question would probably be denied, but she had to ask.

"Can…can I see her?" Michonne's face was sympathetic, she couldn't even begin to imagine what Beth had been through over the years, being left behind and all alone. So, even though she wasn't totally comfortable with the idea of her seeing Judith, not in the current state she was in, she didn't want to reject her flat-out, either.

"Maybe." The young woman nodded her head, accepting that it was the best answer she was going to get. She was so relieved to know that the sweet little baby, now grown-up, had survived. Even though so many people had been lost, knowing Judith was still with them made something light up inside of her that Beth hadn't felt in a long time.

She felt hope.

And that scared the absolute shit out of her.

After those first two years alone, Beth had pretty much given up on ever seeing her family again. She'd seen so much shit that trying to hold onto hope, praying for something better, seemed pointless. So, she'd decided enough was enough, and she adapted.

In this world, you had to.

Beth felt overcome with emotion, she had so many different feelings hitting her at once, she didn't know how to process them. It left her feeling weak, and she hated being weak. Weakness got you killed. She needed to leave, needed to be alone. She started chanting her mantra under her breath without realizing it.

No emotion. No weakness. No emotion. No weakness. No emotion. No weakness.

Daryl's sensitive hearing picked up on Beth's mumbling, and he watched her as she sat there, her head down and her hair covering most of her face. He glanced at Michonne out of the corner of his eye, and she was watching her closely as well.

Standing on shaky feet, Beth tried to steady her breathing, forcing down the panic attack that was trying to seep out. Daryl and Michonne both tensed, wondering what she was about to do. She kept her eyes on the floor, hands making fists at her sides, clenched so tight her knuckles were white.

"Take me back to my cell." Clearly, neither Michonne nor Daryl were expecting that. Beth could guess what they were thinking; sweet little Beth Greene, the girl who couldn't even defend herself or fight off a couple of walkers. But that's not who she is. That girl was dead. She was Delta now. She was who she'd had to become to survive. After years of living that way, she couldn't go back.

Michonne watched her, could tell how uncomfortable and distraught she'd become, and she couldn't blame Beth for reacting the way she had. She'd at least had time to process all their people's deaths when they happened, but Beth is learning about them all at once. On top of that, she isn't the same Beth anymore, that's obvious, but just how far gone was she?

Michonne made a silent promise to herself, right then and there, that she wasn't going to give up on Beth. They'd lost so many people, seen so many bad things happen over the years. And yet, by some miracle, Beth was alive, and they'd found each other. And this would be different than when Jocelyn had found her years prior. She'd known Beth after the turn, knew what she was like in this shit-hole of a world. She hadn't known Jocelyn then, not really.

It would be different this time. The old Beth was still in there, somewhere. Her reaction about Judith being alive gave that away. She just had to find a way to bring that girl back, or at least some of her.

Beth didn't know how long she stood there, waiting for somebody to take her back to her cell. All she knew was that if somebody didn't take her soon, she was going to run. It didn't come to that though, because Michonne moved to stand as well.

"You don't need to go back to the cell, Beth." She slowly moved to look at Michonne, brows furrowed. "We have a couple empty houses that are used for guests. You can stay in one of them for now." Beth scrutinized her, unsure how to feel about the gesture.

"How do you know I won't just run?" Michonne's face expressed a tenderness that she hadn't seen before.

"Because you're still a good person." Beth looked away from her, unable to reply. "Daryl can show you the way. Get plenty of rest, tomorrow will be busy. We answered your questions, now you'll have to do the same for us." Looking at Michonne again, Beth accepted the offer with a nod of her head, and they bid each other goodnight. Daryl cleared his throat, and Beth turned her attention to him.

He wouldn't look at her.

"Les' go." He commanded, his voice gruff. Beth figured he was probably pissed off at her for keeping her identity a secret. She followed him out of the building and back into the night. They had been walking for a few minutes, silent except for the sounds of their shoes hitting the ground. He was moving so fast, she was having trouble keeping up.

"Can you slow down please?" He ignored her, continuing his fast-pace. Annoyed, Beth picked up speed and yanked him back. "Daryl!"

"Don' touch me." He growled, ripping his arm out of her grasp, like her touch burned him. She tried not to let it bother her, knowing he had a right to be pissed off. She just wanted a chance to explain herself, that's all.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He spun towards her, fury in his gaze, and the old Beth would've been afraid of him. But not this Beth.

"Yer sorry?" He snorted, but there was no humor behind it. "Fer which part? Tha part where ya lied to me? Or that yer one a them?" He stood there, glaring at her through the hair that hung over his eyes, but she didn't back down.

"For all of it. I wanted to tell you. I did." Daryl shook his head, pivoting on his heel and storming off. Obviously, she followed him, talking while she tried to keep up with him.

"I know you're wonderin' why I didn't tell you. But I couldn't, Daryl." She almost tripped, but quickly righted herself and continued following him, steadily becoming more annoyed with him running away. "You don't understand! I was on my own for years!"

"I been on ma own 'fore, Beth! S'not tha end of tha world!" He spat over his shoulder, not even sparing her a glance.

"But it is! And that's just it! I was alone!" Beth growled out, imploring him to understand, but he just seemed to ignore her words. "I tried to find y'all, but I didn't know where to go! I wasn't a tracker like you, there weren't no trail to follow." Her accent grew thicker the more hysterical she became, "-I was about to give up when Alpha found me. She made me better, made me strong." Her words caused him to stop so suddenly that she crashed into his back, immediately taking a step backwards when he whirled around to face her. She stood there, waiting for him to lash out again. But he surprised her when his voice came out soft and husky.

"Ya were always strong…ya just didn' know it." He said it so sincerely, her heart ached. Daryl finally looked up, meeting her eyes. His gaze was so intense that Beth couldn't look away, even if she wanted to…which she didn't.

"Why ya with 'em?" He repeated his question from earlier that day, expecting the real answer this time. She just stared at him, a somber look on her face, hating how weak she felt under his gaze.

"Because…anythin' was better than bein' alone." She said, her voice quivering, "And I had been alone for so long, Daryl…" Her voice cracked as she whispered softly, "-I didn't wanna be alone anymore." The lump in her throat grew too large, preventing her from saying anything more, and she could no longer fight back the tears as they rolled down her dirt-stained cheeks.

Daryl stared at her, watching her face as her tears glistened in the moonlight. He didn't know what to say to her in that moment, didn't even know what to do. Should he comfort her? Or would that be wrong, considering they were practically strangers at this point? Deciding that he had to say something, he coughed into his hand, looking back at the ground.

"S'my fault." That caused Beth to glare at him, ready to argue, but he didn't give her the chance. "It is. Never shoulda left ya, tha' night at tha funeral home." He stared into her eyes, his face full of regrets. "Shoulda just ran wit' ya. None a'this woulda happened." Beth stared at him incredulously. Leave it to Daryl to somehow blame himself. The man never learned to accept the fact that there were things in this world that he just couldn't control. What happened to her, getting captured, taking a bullet to the skull, being out on her own…none of it was his fault.

"You don't know that." She said softly, taking a small step closer to him, wiping away her tears. "If things hadn't happened the way they did, what's to say something worse wouldn't've happened?" Daryl just shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets. "None of this is your fault, Daryl." She stated, her voice stern.

Shuffling from one foot to the other, Daryl kept glancing from the ground to Beth, unsure what to do now. The air around them seemed to get stiff and uncomfortable. Having said more than he'd wanted to, Daryl turned and continued leading Beth to her temporary home. He could hear her fall into step behind him, and he moved a bit slower so that she could keep up with him this time.

She noticed. And she smiled softly to herself.

They came to a stop in front of a line of red-brick townhouses.

"Yer gonna be stayin' in tha' one, on tha far end." Daryl rumbled, lifting his arm and pointing to the front door, a metal number hanging on the front. Lucky number thirteen. He looked over at Beth, "Me n'tha others are a couple doors down, s'one with tha eleven." Beth nodded, not bothering to speak.

They stood there, awkward silence starting again. Beth, thankfully, spoke first.

"Well…g'night then, I guess." Daryl nodded at her.

"G'night, Beth." Having nothing left to say, she started walking away, feeling his gaze burning into her back. She had just walked up the small staircase, hand resting on the doorknob, when she heard Daryl call her name again. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed he'd moved closer from where he'd been standing. She waited for him to speak.

"Fer wha' s'worth…" He started, shoving a hand in his pocket and chewing on his thumbnail, "-I don' blame ya, keepin' it a secret." He sighed, dropping his hand from his mouth, staring up at her. "M'sorry for snappin' at 'cha." Beth felt her lip quirk up, looking at him, her features soft.

"You don't gotta apologize. I'm sorry, too." Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, shifting on his feet again. Beth smiled at him. "See you in the mornin'?"

"Ya, see ya in tha mornin'. G'night, Beth." He muttered, just barely loud enough for her to hear, before heading for door eleven and walking inside. Beth watched him go, her heartbeat steady and feeling a strange sense of calm.

She turned the knob to number thirteen and walked in, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing a couch, she didn't bother exploring the home, instead choosing to collapse on the soft piece of furniture. Beth was beyond exhausted, it felt like it'd been years since the last time she'd slept, and the couch was the most comfortable thing she'd laid on in ages.

Closing her eyes, it didn't take long for sleep to claim her. Oh, she still had a million thoughts going through her head, mind you. But she found she was too tired to care.

So, she slept.

Beth was woken up by sunlight pouring into the room, hitting her right in the eyes. She groaned, gingerly sitting up and stretching her arms above her head. She had no idea what time it was, just that it seemed to be early in the morning. She stood up and walked over to the window, peering through the blinds. It was still fairly quiet outside, and Beth saw a few random people milling about, doing what, she didn't know.

Sighing, she stepped away and turned back towards the room, getting a good look at it now that it was day time. The couch she had slept on faced the wall with the window and the front door. There were two overstuffed chairs sitting across from the couch, a small coffee table in the middle. The floors were a dark, cherry wood, and all the walls were painted a pale yellow. To her left, there was a decently sized kitchen with granite counters and an island that separated it from the rest of the room. The cabinets were all white and clean, and Beth knew if she touched them, she'd leave dirt behind.

She was about to explore the upstairs when there was a knock on the door. She hesitated, unsure if she should answer it or not, but then she remembered where she was and strode to the door, opening it wide. It was a woman with dirty blonde hair and a strange tattoo on her neck. Was it a barcode? What the hell?

"Morning," The woman greeted, "Michonne asked me to drop off some clothes and shower stuff for you." Beth finally noticed that she was, indeed, carrying a pile of clothes and a few other items. Reaching out, she took the pile from the stranger, before looking back up at her, her face impassive. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'm a member of the council." They had a council? Beth found that ironic, remembering the prison's council. Realizing she hadn't introduced herself yet, she went to speak, but then stumbled. What name should she say? Her automatic response was to say 'Delta'…but without her mask on, she was confused.

"Beth." Saying her given name out-loud felt foreign on her tongue. It'd been so long since she'd said it herself, it almost felt wrong. She was drawn from her internal dilemma when the woman, Laura, spoke again.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Beth. Welcome to Alexandria." Beth wasn't entirely sure how to respond, she wasn't used to meeting new people.

"Thank you, it was nice meeting you." She mumbled, looking down at the pile of items in her arms, "Think I'll go take that shower, been a long time since I've had one." Laura smiled, sympathy clear on her face.

"Of course. Enjoy it, and when you're ready, Michonne will be waiting to meet with you." Beth merely dipped her head in acknowledgement, watching as Laura turned and walked away, before shutting the door and releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Heading for the L-shaped staircase by the kitchen, she made her way upstairs and to the second floor. The stairs led to a long hallway, and Beth counted three doors. She walked to the first one of the two on the right, and realized it was small bedroom. Peeking inside, she noticed a twin bed and dresser, sheets and pillows resting on the end of the bed, waiting for it to be made. Stepping back, she walked to the single door on the left and opened it, grinning to herself when she saw that it was the bathroom. She wasn't lying when she told Laura it'd been a long time since she had a shower, having grown used to bathing in a cold creek.

She looked at the bathroom for a moment, noticing it had the same granite and white cabinets as the kitchen, but the walls were painted grey and the floor was a dark blue tile. The toilet sat on the other side of the sink, and across from them both was a standing shower with glass doors. Inside, the same dark blue tile went up the walls to the top of the shower doors.

Walking in, she left the bathroom door open so she could see if somebody came in, uncaring about her modesty. Living in the woods with over a hundred others made privacy a hard thing to come by, and she'd long since gotten over the idea of random people seeing her naked. She dropped the pile of clothes and shower supplies beside the sink. Deciding to use the toilet first, she did her business and almost gasped when the toilet flushed. Running water was a rarity, she'd have to ask how they got it to work. Toeing-off her boots, Beth stripped out of her filthy and worn-out clothes, left in her bra and underwear. She looked at herself in the mirror, not remembering the last time she was able to gaze at her own reflection.

Her face was filthy, even though she'd bathed a couple days ago. In this world, staying clean always seemed impossible. Her hair was knotted and oily at the roots, most likely from the constant wearing of her mask. Sighing, she looked away from the mirror, instead reaching for whatever shower supplies Michonne had sent her. Beth saw a glass bottle, of what she assumed was shampoo, and a bar of handmade soap that smelled like lavender. Mildly excited at the prospect of smelling like something other than death, she finished stripping out of her underwear and took stepped into the shower, turning it on and waiting for it to heat up.

Once steam started to form, she stepped under the spray and sighed in relief, the hot water soothing all the aches from her body. She glanced down, watching as the dirt and blood that once covered her body spiraled down the drain. Reaching for the shampoo, she pulled out the stopper, sniffing it first, noting the strong aroma of honey, before pouring a generous heap into her palm and working it into her scalp. Beth almost groaned at how good it felt, closing her eyes as she rubbed the shampoo into her hair, feeling more human with each passing second. When she finished, she rinsed her hair and grabbed the bar of soap, running it over her arms and torso, scrubbing away the layer of filth.

Beth didn't know how long she was in the shower, but she didn't care at all. It felt so good, and she felt so clean, she didn't want to leave. But, once she was finished scrubbing her body, she did one final rinse-off, and cut the water off. Opening the shower door, she reached for a towel that was hanging on a rack between the toilet and the shower. She wrapped the soft linen around her body, stepping out of the shower and onto the cold tile floor. Goosebumps covered her skin, but she didn't really notice.

Beth stepped over to the pile of clean clothes, looking to see what she was given. Seeing a simple pair of black underwear, she stepped into them and pulled them up her legs, relieved they actually fit. Next, she held up the bra that had been sitting between the pants and shirt, trying to gauge on whether or not it would fit her small chest. Even though she'd grown some over the years, she still wasn't particularly 'gifted' in the chest department.

Oh, to hell with it.

She clipped the bra on, putting her arms through the straps. To her surprise, the cups weren't too big, there was only a small gap of space that her breasts didn't fill. She pulled on the pants next, noticing they were washed-out and grey. She took her belt out of the loops on her old pair and put it through the loops on her new ones, tightening them around her waist. When she noticed there were two shirts, she studied them both. One was a navy, loose-fit t-shirt, with a pocket square and a low neckline. The other was long-sleeved and black. While she would usually choose the long-sleeved, she went with the t-shirt, remembering how warm it was the night before. She figured it'd only be hotter yet today, and if she didn't need to hide her skin, she wouldn't.

Dressed and feeling better than she had in a long time, Beth took another glance in the mirror, amazed at the difference. She almost looked like her old-self, minus the scars on her face and the shorter hair. She combed through her hair with her fingers, trying to pull out the knots and tangles, before giving up. She pulled on her boots and walked out of the bathroom, heading back downstairs.

Beth paused on the bottom landing when she saw Daryl sitting in one of the chairs in the living room, chewing on his thumbnail. His head snapped up when he heard her descent. She stood there, staring at him, surprised she never heard the front door open. Daryl stood up when she walked down the last few stairs, coming to a halt within arm's reach.

"Mornin'." He muttered, and Beth just stared at him for a moment, still a little awkward from their conversation the night prior. Giving him a gentle smile, she greeted him back.

"Good mornin'. What are you doin' here?" She didn't beat around the bush. Daryl was here for a reason, she doubted he came just to see how she was doing.

"Was gonna take ya ta see Michonne." He mumbled, his voice scratchy and rough, just as Beth always remembered it being. "Figured ya didn' know where yer headin'." Beth felt her lip quirk up at him. Helpful as always, Daryl.

"Okay, thanks." She glanced around the room. "Well, I'm ready now so we can go, if you'd like." And of course, Daryl being Daryl, merely grunted in agreement before heading out the front door. She raised an eyebrow to his back, following him outside and down the front steps.

Daryl had been up for well over an hour. He was sitting out on the steps, sharpening his knives, when he saw Laura walk by out of the corner of his eye, her arms full with a bunch of random shit. Narrowing his eyes, he watched her as she walked up to Beth's door, knocking on it. He witnessed the exchange between he and Beth when she answered the door, looking the same as she had last night. They only spoke for a moment, and then Beth was closing the door and Laura was walking back the way she came, passing Daryl and smiling at him in greeting. He nodded his head at her in acknowledgement.

He sat there on the steps for a few more minutes, trying to focus on the knife in his hand, but now that he knew Beth was awake, he wanted to go over there and see her. It still felt surreal, Beth being alive. But seeing her, living and breathing, brought back so many unresolved thoughts and feelings that Daryl wasn't sure he could be around her without losing his damn mind. The girl, woman now, was confusing the hell out of him. And normally, Daryl would stay away and that'd be the end of it, but with Beth…he huffed out an annoyed breath. Standing up, he clipped his knife back onto his belt and made his way over to number thirteen. He inhaled through his nose and out of his mouth before knocking gently on the door. Waiting for a few moments, he was confused when she didn't answer like she had for Laura.

Hesitantly, Daryl opened the door, peeking his head inside and looking around. Realizing Beth probably wasn't downstairs, he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, listening closely. He could hear water running upstairs, and he realized the reason she didn't answer was because she was in the shower. Knowing that brought too many images to Daryl's mind, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block them out. This was Beth, for Christ's sake. He'd known her since she was sixteen, there was no damn reason he needed to be having those kinds of thoughts about her. But as he was reprimanding his brain, he also reminded himself that Beth wasn't sixteen anymore. She had to be about twenty-six, if not twenty-seven now.

That thought made him feel like less of a dirty, old, redneck asshole. But he was still thirteen or fourteen years older than her, give or take a few months. He should not be thinking about Beth Greene the way he was.

He almost left then, but decided against it, putting his inner turmoil to the side and sitting down, knowing there were more important things to be dealt with. His own issues could wait. So lost in thought, he didn't hear Beth until her boots hit the bottom landing of the staircase. Daryl felt stuck to the chair when he saw her, skin pink from scrubbing and free of any blood or dirt. Her hair was still damp, hanging in wet tendrils. Her face was clean, pale and beautiful, like he always remembered her. But now that the dirt was gone, Daryl was able to get a better look at the scars on her face. The two cuts weren't as bad as he thought, the thin lines healed better since they'd been stitched shut. The one on her forehead though, that one still made him sick to his stomach. Not because the scar was ugly, but because of what it stood for in his mind.

But now wasn't the time to think about that.

He stood up, taking a step away from the chair as she finished walking down the stairs. They were an arm's length apart, but Daryl felt miles away from her. He hated it.

"Mornin'." He cursed himself for feeling so awkward around her. He was fairly certain she could pick up on his discomfort, because the smile she gave him was gentle and comforting.

"Good mornin'. What are you doin' here?" Well, she didn't waste any time. Straight to the point. That was something Beth didn't used to do, but she had started becoming blunt when they were on the road together.

Wanted to see ya. "Was gonna take ya ta see Michonne." Had to make sure ya weren' a dream. "Figured ya didn' know where yer headin'." Missed ya so bad, girl.

Everything he wanted to say was left unsaid. There would be time to tell her later, if he ever did.

"Okay, thanks. Well, I'm ready now so we can go, if you'd like." He just grunted and walked away, unable to face her anymore. He could hear her following him out the door, and they walked together in silence. Daryl could feel Beth's gaze on him, could see her constantly looking at his face out of the corner of his eye. It took all his willpower to ignore it.

He knew if he looked at her right then and there, all the words he left unsaid would come pouring out.

And now wasn't the time.

"Morning, you two. Thanks for coming." Michonne greeted Beth and Daryl as soon as they walked into the council room. Beth recognized it as the place that they'd removed her mask. Looking at the floor, she didn't see her mask anywhere, and her brow creased.

"I hid it." Michonne states, drawing Beth's attention to her. The younger woman didn't ask where or why, just nodded in acceptance.

Looking around the room, Beth finally noticed that Henry and Lydia were both present, leaning against the wall across from her. Lydia did a double-take when she saw her, realizing that her mask was gone. She tilted her head when she made eye contact with Lydia, silently asking her if she was alright. When the teen confirmed that she was with a confused nod, Beth turned her attention back to Michonne. Not wanting to waste any more time, she spoke.

"You said I had to answer your questions today. So ask." Michonne's eyebrows raised at her bluntness, and she glanced over at Daryl, and he could only shrug, unsure of what to say. Giving Beth her full attention, she gestured to a rectangular table with chairs and the three of them sat down, Daryl beside Beth and across from Michonne. Henry and Lydia stayed where they were against the wall. Michonne thought to herself for a minute before clearing her throat and looking at Beth.

"Let's start with the Whisperers. How many?" Beth had to think about it, doing some quick mental math.

"At least, two hundred. That doesn't count the dead that follow us around." She saw no point in lying to them. Even if she wasn't one of them anymore, she didn't want them to be charging into battle, blind. They seemed to process the information, and it was Daryl who asked the next question.

"How long you been with 'em?" Again with the mental math? She huffed and took a rough guess.

"About four years, give or take? We don't really keep track of the days." If either Michonne or Daryl were shocked by this, they hid it well. Michonne leaned on the tabled, crossing her arms on the surface.

"Daryl told me that they call you 'Delta'," She looked at him while she spoke, before staring at Beth again, "-what does it mean?"

It took all her willpower not to roll her eyes at the question. Didn't they know anything about the Greek alphabet? She leaned back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest.

"It's from the Greek alphabet. Fourth letter. Means I'm fourth in command."

"Tha' mean Beta was second?" Daryl questions.

"Yeah."

"So who was third?"

"Gamma was third in command," she stated, glancing at Lydia, "-but he's dead now. When you captured Lydia, he was killed in the process. I'm sure as shit not complainin' though, he was an asshole." Daryl snorted at her statement.

"And Beta wasn'?" Beth narrowed her eyes at him.

"Beta respected authority. Gamma didn't." And that was all she would say on the matter. She knew the Whisperers seemed completely insane to them, but it had a structure to it. They just didn't understand. She was pulled from her thoughts when Michonne spoke.

"Back to your position. You were fourth in command, you must've had your own duties?" Beth nodded in confirmation. "What does being 'Delta' entail?" She sighed, looking at the woodgrain on the tabletop while she answered.

"I had my own separate group. Usually about fifteen to twenty people. My job was to scout ahead of the rest, find new places to go, occasionally bring in new people…but no weak ones. The weak never last long around Alpha." She didn't bother to elaborate any further. She was sure they got the point of what she was saying. If you were weak, Alpha would kill you.

Simple as that.

Michonne cleared her throat again, looking at Beth.

"Beth, I know we've been separated for years," she began, choosing her words carefully, "-but I came up with a plan last night. To defeat the Whisperers." Beth raised a brow at her, waiting for her to continue. "But in order for this plan to work, I need you on our side." Beth's face became stoic, refusing to let her feelings show. She knew exactly what Michonne was going to suggest, as far as her 'plan' went, but she wanted no part of it.

"No." Daryl's head snapped in Beth's direction, shocked by her immediate rejection without even hearing what Michonne had to say. Michonne heaved a sigh, rubbing her forehead.

"Beth, I understand you-" Beth didn't bother to let her even say her piece.

"You don't understand shit." To say that the older woman looked shocked was an understatement. "Until last night, I've been dead to you for the last seven years. I ain't blamin' you for that, but you think just because we called each other 'family' at one point means I'll just forget the last seven years of my life without all of you?" She looked back and forth from Daryl to Michonne, glaring at them both. "Not all of the Whisperers are bad people. We have families, small children, infants, elders." She stood up, irritation radiating from her body. "Say I went along with your plan-which I'm assumin' is to kill Alpha-say I go along with it, you get what you want, which is obviously a person on the inside. Alpha dies, you all win. What happens to all the people left without a leader?" She glared at Michonne. "What happens to them, Michonne? I'll tell you what. They all die. Because they sure as shit won't be welcomed in any of your communities." She spat the words like they were vinegar in her mouth, her nostrils flaring.

The room was so silent, the tension weighing down the small space. Daryl could only watch in shock as Beth had raged, unsure what to say to calm her. He turned his head toward Michonne, but she just sat there, letting Beth yell at her. A few moments passed in tense silence, everybody staring at Beth.

Closing her eyes, she clenched a fist and leaned against the table for support, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

"Either take me back to the cell and leave me there to rot, or give me my shit so I can leave." She opened her eyes and stared at Michonne, her gaze unwavering, "Because we do not know each other, not anymore. So don't sit there and ask shit of me, like we're old friends and I owe you a favor. I owe you nothing." And with that, Beth stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. They all just stared at the door. It was Lydia who broke the silence, stepping over to the table where Michonne and Daryl still sat.

"She's right." They both stared at the teenager. "She's right," She says again, this time louder, "-I don't know what exactly happened between you three, but it's obvious you have a past together. Delta…she never spoke of her past, never mentioned anything about who she was or where she was from. I could tell it bothered her to think about it, so I never asked. I can tell she cares about you, especially you," she directs that to Daryl, and he has to hide his surprise to her statement, disbelief clouding his brain, "-but Delta isn't just gonna choose you over her people because of history." Lydia looks down at the floor, rubbing her hand over her arm, trying to get her thoughts together.

"Was she right?" She asks Michonne this, and the dark-skinned woman gazes at her, confusion obvious, "Was Delta right about your plan? I mean, you didn't get a chance to explain it, but she seemed pretty certain what it was you were gonna say…"

Michonne released a heavy breath, looking Lydia in the eye as she answered.

"Yes. She was right." Lydia pursed her lips, breaking eye contact with Michonne and crossing her arms. "Is it true, about their being families and whatnot amongst your people?" Lydia looked at her like she was stupid.

"Of course it is. Delta wouldn't lie about something like that." Michonne seemed to consider this, looking over at Daryl, who met her eye and nodded.

"If Beth were to agree to our plan, we'd be willing to negotiate that some of the Whisperers, the innocent ones, are given a place to live. Whether it be a section of land or their choice of a community to reside in, that's up to them," Lydia looked more and more hopeful as Michonne spoke. "-but Beth has to agree to work for us." The young girl nodded, looking determined.

"Let me talk to her, she'll listen if it's coming from me. No offense." Michonne smirked, shaking her head.

"None taken." Just before Lydia walked away, Michonne called her back for a moment. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this though? I know Alpha is your Mother." Lydia frowned, looking at Henry and then back to Michonne.

"Delta has been more of a Mother to me than Alpha ever was." She explained, her stance confident. "So yes, I'm sure I want to do this." Michonne smiled at the determined young girl.

"Alright."

Beth had managed to find her way back to townhouse thirteen, storming inside and throwing the door shut. She paced around the living room, trying to calm herself down. She understood why Michonne would ask her to help them, she did. But Michonne needed to realize that Beth wasn't part of their family anymore. She felt bad for Daryl, knowing she had lashed out a little bit. And he hadn't necessarily done anything wrong, he was just there. Forcing herself to sit down, she collapsed onto the couch in a huff, resting her face in her palms, trying to put away the anger and irritation. Taking deep breaths, she slowly inhaled and exhaled the oxygen from her lungs.

A sudden knock on the door startled Beth from her stupor, and she glanced up in time to see the door crack open, Lydia peeking inside. Seeing the young girl, she instantly felt calm.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she stood from the couch, watching Lydia as she walked inside.

"I came to talk to you, about Michonne's plan." Beth set her hands on her hips, waiting for Lydia to continue. "I think you should do it." She didn't bother hiding her bewildered expression, looking at the teen like she was crazy for even suggesting the idea. "Before you say no, I talked to Michonne. I told her that you were right about our people." That only made her more confused.

"Then you should know why my answer won't change." Lydia shook her head, and she grew silent.

"Michonne said they'd be willing to negotiate a section of land to the innocent people, or find them a place amongst any of the communities, it would be up to our people to decide." Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, but Lydia wasn't finished yet. "But for that to happen, you have to agree to Michonne's plan. I think you should do it, Delta."

Now she was conflicted. She hadn't wanted to go along with her plan because she knew how many innocent lives would be destroyed along the way, but if they were willing to negotiate…

Well, fuck. Things just got more complicated, and Beth felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"What about your Mom?" Lydia released a breath, looking down as she hugged her torso.

"Like I told them, you've been more of a Mother to me than Alpha. I'm on your side. You're my family, Delta." Beth's eyes started to burn at Lydia's declaration, and instead of responding, she stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. She had always considered Lydia to be her little sister, like Beth was to Maggie, but she had no idea that Lydia looked to her as a mother-figure. And it made her heart ache, in a good way. It also made the decision easier for her. She pulled away from Lydia, rubbing her arms in comfort, her lip quirking up in a small but determined smile.

"Okay."

The grin she got in return would be worth all the hell she would be facing.

Daryl was surprised when Beth walked back into the council hall, Lydia trailing behind her. Her expression was determined, and that's when he knew that Lydia had convinced her.

Beth was on their side again.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she began to speak, her voice clear and firm.

"I'll do it, but only if you agree to help my people when this is all over." Daryl still wasn't sure how he felt about helping the Whisperers, but he had to trust that Beth was telling the truth, that they weren't all bad.

"You have my word, and the word of the other communities, that there will be a place for your people." Michonne confirmed, and that was all that needed to be said. Beth put her hands on her hips, her stance lazy, but confident. And there was something about this new, confident Beth that had Daryl's heart stuttering in his chest.

The fuck?

"I'm gonna need my mask and knife back." She says, shifting from foot to foot. "And there's one other thing…" Beth trails off, hating that she had to ask this. She lifted her head to look at Daryl, then to Michonne, before settling her gaze back on him.

"I'm gonna need one of you to beat the shit outta me."

If he thought it'd been silent from her earlier outburst, it was nothing compared to when she made that request.

"They were polite, at first." Beth began, forcing herself to be as confident as she could manage. "They put me in a cell, but then moved me to a house. Gave me clean clothes, food, shelter." She could tell that Alpha was unimpressed by what she was saying. "The politeness didn't last though."

"What happened?" Alpha asked again, her patience wearing thin.

"They questioned me, about our people," She said, her voice soft, "-but I refused to answer any of their questions. That's why I'm like this." She gestured to her body, her one arm still wrapped around her middle, wincing as she tried to breathe.

In the end, it had been Henry that had hesitantly agreed to beat her up. Daryl and Michonne had flat-out refused, saying it was pointless and a stupid suggestion. Lydia had remained silent because she knew it was necessary, but that didn't mean she had to like it. So, when Henry agreed, the others left the room, and Beth didn't put up a fight as he hit her with his staff in a few different places, grunting in pain and fighting back a cry when he caught her in the ribs.

Fuck, he didn't hold back.

She'd have to remember not to get on the kid's bad side. He could clearly hold his own in a fight.

"They wound up throwing me back into the cell. There were guards, but they were stupid, never shut up. There's more than one community, and apparently they're having some festival in a few days." She didn't have to explain to Alpha what that meant, her leader knew.

There was an opening to attack.

"How did you escape?" This was the question Beth was the most nervous about, because it required some next-level bullshitting.

"Lydia snuck me out." She could see Alpha's eyes widen beneath her mask. "She gave me back my knife and helped me get out, but when I tried to convince her to come with me…" She sent a mental apology to Lydia for this, knowing it'd put a target on her back, "-she said if any of us came after her again, she'd tell them everything about us. Said she'd also kill any of our people that she came across, myself included."

Beth knew what that would mean for Alpha. Their leader would have no choice but to disown her cub, and if ever they came across her, she'd probably be killed for betraying the pack.

"How many other communities?" Alpha backtracked, putting the topic of her daughter to the side for the time being.

"Four, as far as I can tell." Beth's body was protesting the longer she stood, but she continued to ignore it. "These communities…they like to pretend they're strong. But, it's obvious to me they're the opposite." Alpha looked intrigued, motivating Beth to keep going. "They live hoping that one day, the world will return to the way it was. They're lying to themselves. They're weak." She didn't know whether or not she believed her own words. She knew she had to lie to Alpha, tell her the fabricated story, but just how much of it was a lie?

"There's no place for the weak in this world." Alpha declared. And just like that, the discussion was over as quick as it had begun. Alpha walked closer to her, and Beth felt her entire body tense. "You did good, Delta. I must admit, I questioned your loyalty once upon a time, but you have proven yourself time and time again."

Well, thank fuck for small miracles.

"We must come up with a plan. We must show these people that The Whisperers are to be respected and feared." Alpha was addressing all that had gathered around when Beth was sharing her experience. "Beta." The large man stepped forward, looking down at Alpha, awaiting her orders. She gestured to Delta before speaking. "Take Delta, check her wounds. When you're done, I want both of you to take a group and stake out these other communities, then report back to me." Having said her piece, she spun on her heel and strode away, a pack of Whisperers following behind her. When she was gone, the rest of the crowd dispersed, leaving Beta and Delta pretty much alone.

He looked down at Delta, his expression a mask of indifference.

"Come." He commanded in a gruff whisper. Together, they slowly made their way to the stream, but as soon as they were out of sight of the others, Beta lifted Delta into his arms, able to move quicker. She almost gasped in shock at the gesture. As if sensing her confusion, he declared that she was moving too slowly, and she snorted while rolling her eyes at him.

Walking into the clearing, Beta set her down on her feet, Delta leaning her body against a tree trunk. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, stretching her legs out in front of her, still holding her side. Beta crouched down in front of her, reaching behind her head to untie her mask and pull it off. Next, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. Once the fabric was gone, he was able to get a good look at her.

Delta's left eye was turning an ugly shade of purple, her lip was split open and still bleeding down her chin. He reached up and wiped the trail of blood away with his thumb. She had a bruise starting to form along her jaw and neck, more noticeable because of her pale skin. As his eyes trailed lower, Beta reached for the hand that was wrapped around her torso, pulling it away. She hissed in response, and he narrowed his eyes, looking for signs of anything broken or internal bleeding. Her ribcage was also bruising, the length and thickness of the swelling giving away what had hit her.

"Did that boy with the staff do this?" She could only nod, her eyes scrunched shut and fighting the pain. "Surprised he had it in him, he seemed so weak before." Beth snorted, the lie already slipping off her tongue.

"Well, when you tell him everybody he loves will die because of his stupidity, that seems to piss him off." Beta cracked a grin at her fiery attitude, before resuming his poking and prodding of her injuries. When he touched her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps along her cool skin, she hissed in pain. "Take it easy, fuck."

Beta chuckled at her, ignoring the request and continuing to check her over.

"Nothing seems to be broken, just bruised to hell." Delta rolled her eyes at his observation.

"Thanks for stating the obvious."

Beta watched Delta as she moved to stand up, careful of her ribs. They may not be broken, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt like a son of a bitch. Once on her feet, she reached for her shirt, pulling it back over her head, hissing at the movement. Beta stood up straight, glancing down at her. She was holding her mask in her hands, adjusting the laces in the back when Beta did something strange.

In an unheard-of show of affection, he lifted his hand to cup her uninjured cheek, angling her head up to look at him. She watched him, curious as to what he was doing. He studied her face, noticing the obvious exhaustion. He moved his hand to her chin, tilting her face to the side to examine the bruising again. When he was done, he moved his hand back to her cheek, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I know you cared for Lydia." Her eyes widened a fraction, before narrowing at him. "But you were wise to choose your people over your friend. For that, you have my respect." He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against her forehead. Delta's eyes remained wide, perplexed by this strange side of Beta that she'd never-before bared witness to. "So, know that when the time comes, for Lydia to be removed from this world," He said, pulling away to look at her again, his whispers coming out as a rumble, "-I will take care of it. Don't let her weakness be your undoing." She didn't have to ask what he meant by 'take care of it', she knew.

I'll kill her so you don't have to.

Having said his piece, Beta rotated his body, ready to head back the direction they had come from. He glanced over his shoulder at Delta, oblivious to the millions of thoughts going through her head.

"Let's go." He ordered, and she followed him back to the camp, a few paces behind, watching his back as they walked.

Beth hadn't been very conflicted about betraying Alpha or Beta when she'd agreed to Michonne's plan, but seeing this strange side of Beta had left her disoriented and unbalanced.

What the hell did it mean?

A/N: Don't get used to my chapters being this long! I almost broke it up into two, but it was flowing so well I didn't wanna ruin that! Also, how about that Beth and Beta moment at the end?! Almost took it out, but I LIVEEEE for the drama, so tadaaa!

Reviews and critiques are welcome as always! Thank you for reading!

-Taylor Catherine

PS: TWD last night...who else was shocked?!