** Author's Note: Chapter 37 does follow some of the scenes straight from the show, I try to keep that at a minimum in my story, or at least try to bring a fresh perspective, but occasionally, in order to provide continuity, I do have to do this. Chapter 37

-DARYL-

Things went bad fast. One minute they were being offered BBQ by a dumb puppy of a man and the next Rick had the guy by the neck, demanding he tell them where he got the watch.

Daryl had been uneasy about the whole place from the beginning. The others were too, he could tell. He was trying to work out exactly why - was it just because they'd been through so much that they didn't trust anyone? Or was it because this Gareth guy seemed so unconcerned about it all? Daryl was pretty sure if four armed people had showed up, unannounced, at the prison that they would be a little less hospitable than Gareth had been with them. Whatever it was, he had been on edge, but it was Rick who noticed the watch. Glenn's watch, the one Hershel gave him back at the farm.

When Rick made his move, Daryl reacted immediately, unquestioningly. He pointed his bow at the woman behind the grill, she was matronly, with a peaceful smile, but she'd gone for her weapon just as quickly as Daryl had, the plate of meat that she was just holding out to them splattered across the ground forgotten.

"Where the hell'd you get this watch?" Rick demanded.

"You want answers, you want anything else, you get 'em when you put down the gun." Alex replied.

Daryl frantically pointed the bow all around the courtyard, trying to determine just how many they were up against. All the Terminus people, who had just seconds ago been sitting casually, eating and talking in low voices, were now standing, staring. Some were pointing weapons.

"I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle, how goods his aim?" Rick growled, loud enough to be heard, and then lowered his voice and asked Alex again. "Where'd you get the watch?"

Alex didn't answer, or not quick enough for Rick.

"WHERE'D YOU GET THE WATCH!?" Rick yelled.

With fear cracking through his calm facade, Alex addressed the guy on the roof.

"Don't do anything. I have this. Just put it down. Put it down."

His man complied.

Alex's breath was coming through choppy and labored as he spoke to Rick again.

"You listen to me. There's a lot of us…"

Rick cut him off. "Where'd you get the watch?"

"I got it off a dead one. I didn't think he'd need it."

Rick shook his head, unbelieving and tightened his grip around Alex. He swung him around to face a man in riot gear, pointing his gun at them.

"What about the riot gear? The poncho?"

Daryl looked over and saw a woman standing there staring impassively with his poncho swallowing her up. He didn't know how he didn't notice it before.

Gareth's voice sounded from behind them.

"Got the riot gear off a dead cop."

Rick wrenched Alex around to face the man, the gun still at his throat. Gareth stood there calmly, anger simmering just below the surface.

"Found the poncho on a clothesline."

Alex, who's anxiety seemed to have inexplicably increased now that Gareth was here, pleaded with his leader.

"Gareth, we can wait…"

"Shut up Alex."

"You." Rick said to Gareth. "Talk to me."

"What's there left to say? You don't trust us anymore." Gareth said.

"Gareth?" Alex begged.

Daryl found the begging unsettling. If Alex should be begging anyone right now it was Rick. What did he think Gareth was going to do? Daryl had his back to them, crossbow raised towards several aiming their weapons right back at them.

"Shut. Up."

Daryl could hear the anger coming to the surface as Gareth tried again to silence his man. This stand off couldn't last much longer and Daryl's finger itched on the trigger.

"Gareth please." Alex interrupted.

"It's ok. It's ok." He said, suddenly calm, almost soothing. "Rick, what do you want?"

"Where are our people?" Rick snarled.

"You didn't answer the question."

With Gareth's final word the bullets went flying and the four of them went running.

Terminus was a maze of buildings and fences with armed men positioned on top of all the roofs. Bullets rained around them, hitting the ground close to their feet and sending up clouds of dust and cement shards. At first Daryl thought the snipers were the worst shots he'd ever seen, or that maybe the four of them were extremely lucky, but it didn't take long for them to realize they were being herded.

They ducked into buildings, trying to find shelter from the bullets, looking for a way out of the sprawling complex. They ran through huge warehouses filled with almost nothing. Doors were slammed shut around them, each time leaving them with only one option to exit. They tore across a burned out, bullet riddled courtyard, weaving in and out of junked up cars. It looked like a warzone. Daryl was in front of the group, Carl, Michonne and Rick following, but he wasn't leading them. The bullets were. They ran past a chain link fence and Daryl glanced through it only long enough to see discarded carcasses, of what exactly, he didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to. Just past the fence there were cargo containers, stacked one on the other and he could hear screams echoing from them.

"Let me out!"

"Help!"

Daryl knew where they had come in, he knew where they'd have to go to get to the fences. If they could just make it over, they might have a chance. They ducked inside again, this time into a dark room filled with candles. There were makeshift shrines and names all over the floor and on the walls, in white paint, "NEVER AGAIN. NEVER TRUST. WE FIRST ALWAYS."

"What the hell is this place?" He asked, not knowing, not wanting to know, not thinking he'd get an answer.

"These people," Michonne started, breathing heavily. "I don't think they're trying to kill us."

"No, they're aiming at our feet." Rick finished.

A door slammed, once again leaving them only one exit. They ran for it, like an animals through a snare.

They burst back into the sunlight, their eyes quickly adjusting from the dark room they just came from. The gunfire started up again and Daryl saw the fence just in the distance. They ran towards it, but came to a halting stop when they realized the fence was lined with more armed people. How many fucking soldiers did this asshole have?

The four of them stood there, unsure what to do or where to go next. If this was the end, Daryl was ready to go down fighting.

The yard fell silent. The gunfire had stopped. All Daryl could hear was his own breath heaving in and out of his lungs.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS. NOW."

Daryl glared up at the roof where Gareth stood. They all did. No one moved.

"NOW!"

Daryl angrily threw the spike he'd picked up to the ground. His crossbow clattered uselessly onto the cement and he unsnapped his knife from its sheath. Rick, Carl and Michonne's weapons fell uselessly to the cement in front of them.

Gareth began shouting down orders.

"RINGLEADER. Go to your left. The train car. GO!"

Rick stared back at Gareth, but didn't move.

"You do what we say and the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway."

Daryl watched as Rick nodded at his son and then turned to head towards the train car.

"NOW THE ARCHER."

Daryl guessed that meant him, although the description didn't quite fit. He hated the idea of getting in that train car, trapped like an animal. He would have refused, would rather be shot, but he wasn't going to have Carl's blood on his hands. He glared up at Gareth before following Rick to their cage.

"NOW THE SAMURAI."

Rick had reached the rough set of wooden steps that led up to the car, Daryl only feet behind him. Littered around were torn and flatten boxes of powdered milk and paper bowls. Michonne took her place behind Daryl and that left Carl standing alone in the courtyard. He looked small and vulnerable and Daryl felt completely powerless.

"STAND AT THE DOOR. RINGLEADER, ARCHER, SAMURAI. IN THAT ORDER."

"My son." Rick shouted and Daryl hated the desperation that had crept into his voice.

"Go kid." With Gareth's go ahead Carl moved towards them. To Daryl it seemed he was going incredibly slow and he could barely breathe it seemed so likely that they'd hear a bullet ring out and Carl would be gone. The three of them, the adults that were supposed to be protecting Carl, all stood silently willing him to make it across that cement divide.

"RINGLEADER, OPEN THE DOOR AND GO IN."

"I'll go in with him." Rick demanded, gesturing towards Carl.

"DON'T MAKE US KILL HIM NOW."

With no other choice, completely at the mercy of these people, Rick turned and opened the door.

The train car was dark and it smelled like piss. It took their eyes a while to adjust to the dark, but Daryl knew they weren't alone before they even heard Glenn's voice.

"Rick?"

He emerged from the shadows, filthy and dejected. Maggie appeared at his side. Daryl moved forward, wanting both to find Kate with them and fearing that he would. The faces of the others came into focus as their eyes became accustomed to the blackness. Sasha and Bob were there, and other people too, strangers he'd never seen, but Kate wasn't among them.

KATE -

The cramps, much worse than before, woke Kate up in the dead of the night. The room was pitch black and she groped around the nightstand for her flashlight, finally finding it and clicking it on. She threw back the blankets and stared at the bloody sheets.

She'd tried to prepare herself for this, she knew it was coming, but it still felt like she'd been punched in the throat. Hot tears stung her eyes and slipped down her face. Her crying started silently, until her breath caught and a loud sob erupted from her chest. She clasped both hands over her mouth in an effort to keep quiet, the last thing she wanted right now was company.

The pain was like menstrual cramps, except much worse. A dull, throbbing ache low in her abdomen that came in waves. She sat heartbroken in the stained bed and wondered what she should do. She wished she could take a hot shower, let all the blood that stained her legs run down the drain. She wished she could tear off the sheets and throw them in a washer machine, remove all signs that this horrible thing had happened. But instead she got up quietly, a fresh gush of blood running down her legs, and made her way to the dresser in the room. She dug through the drawers until she found pajama pants and a pair of men's underwear. She put them under her arm and walked unsteadily down the hallway to the bathroom. There was a cupboard filled with linens and toiletries and she found a hand towel that she used to catch the blood and some Advil to dull the pain. She moved quietly back down the hall, a hand against the wall to steady herself as she returned to the bedroom. She tore the sheets off the bed, balling them up and throwing them into the corner on the floor. She pulled the comforter up over the bare mattress and grabbing an afghan off the chair, covered herself up and turned off the flashlight.

She laid in the dark, unable to sleep, riding out the waves of pain and hating herself for ever, even for a second, resenting the pregnancy.

- DARYL -

Fear, unbridled and primitive, was the only thing Daryl could feel.

He wasn't aware of the barking screams escaping from his gagged mouth. He couldn't feel the hands of his captors digging into his arms, bruising his flesh. His body bucked in attempts to escape, to not give up without a fight, but it was all in vain. The men who had him pushed him roughly to his knees over a stainless steel trough and he tried his best to wrest away from their hold as they zip tied his wrists and ankles. He wasn't alone. Rick, Bob and Glenn had also been pulled coughing and gasping for breath from the train car. They'd planned to fight, but they didn't anticipate the smoke grenade that dropped from the roof into the small space they were laying in wait. As the white smoke filled the train car their hopes for escape disappeared. Daryl had gasped for air and his lungs found nothing but the thick, burning smoke. He'd pried his stinging eyes open at the sound of the container door slamming open and all he could see was a silhouette of a man, standing over them in a gas mask. Even then he wasn't afraid, only angry. He'd wait for an opportunity, an opportunity to overpower these men, but any coherent thought dissolved as they were dragged into the warehouse and the whirring sound of a saw met his ears.

Although they'd been gagged, the men of Terminus hadn't been kind enough to blindfold them and the sights that met Daryl's eyes were terrifying. Men cutting through human bodies. Flesh and bone giving way to the spinning blade.

Like an animal trapped, Daryl fought uselessly against the zip ties that bound his ankles and wrists together and his movements became more frantic as a man, wearing a plastic apron slick with blood, dragged a large blade over butcher's steel. The other man, tall and bald, stood just behind Daryl's shoulder taking practice swings with a metal bat so close to Daryl's head he could feel the wind come off of it.

They weren't the only ones kneeling at the trough, but Daryl hardly noticed the four others to their left until the two men made their way to the end of the line. Without ceremony or hesitation, the bald man reached back and sent the bat crashing into the skull of the first in line with a sickening clunk. The victim, slumped over the trough before the knife was pulled across his throat and his blood went spurting out of him like a fountain, splattering loudly against the metal basin. The noises coming out of the other men were inhuman, the desperate screams of prey trapped. Daryl summoned all the strength he had to try to break free, to at least be standing when the end came. The second swing resulted in the same stomach turning sound and the blood of both men, thick and dark mixed together and made its way down the trough towards the drain.

The butchers were making quick work out of them and Daryl knew they only had minutes left before they'd all be hanging lifelessly over the stainless steel lip.

They'd finished off the third man when Gareth appeared at the door, unconcerned with the carnage before him and making notes in a journal.

"Hey guys?" Gareth asked. "What were your shot counts?"

The answer came quickly, "38" and then the bat made contact with the fourth man's skull. Glenn was next and Daryl could hear his breathing, ragged and noisy. Just as the bat was poised to end Glenn, Gareth spoke up again.

"Hey?"

His men stopped.

"Your shot count?"

"Crap man, I'm sorry." The knife wielder began, more concerned over his slip up than the fact that he was slitting men's throats. "It was my first round up."

"After you're done here," Gareth said, clearly annoyed at the inconvenience. "Go back to your point and count the shells. Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow."

"Hey! Hey!" Bob's voice, muffled and desperate called out to Gareth from the other side of Rick. "Let me talk to you."

Gareth ignored him and began to count.

"Four from A." He said, calmly as he pointed to them, before gesturing to the bodies bleeding out in the trough. "Four from D."

He made more notes in his book.

Bob began again. "Hey! Let me talk to you for a minute."

Gareth looked up from his work and rolled his eyes.

"What?!" He asked, annoyed, as he pulled Bob's gag down.

"Don't do this. We can fix this."

Gareth went for the gag, "No. You can't."

"You don't have to do this!" Bob tried again, his breathing fast and shallow. "We told you there's a way out of all this! You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington."

Daryl thought of the pudgy, mulleted man he'd met back in the storage container and how he claimed to have a cure. Daryl wasn't sure he believed him and he doubted Gareth would. Sure enough, Gareth eyed Bob with disbelief. He leaned back in and replaced his gag.

"You can't go back Bob."

"We can! You don't have to do this!"

Gareth shut his book and crouched down in front of Rick, lowering his gag.

"We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it?"

Rick and Daryl both stared him down with intense hatred.

"You hid it, right? In case things went bad. Smart." He paused and looked away. "Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now."

Gareth pulled a dagger out casually as he spoke and suddenly lunged for Bob, dragging him down by his neck and placing the point of the blade inches from his eye.

"What was in it? I'm curious and it was a big bag." He said, as if he were about to peel an apple and not gouge a man's eye out.

Rick didn't reply, just stared at the madman.

"You really going to let me do this?" Gareth said as he gestured to Bob.

"Well let me take you out there. I'll show you." Rick said, matching the casual manner of conversation Gareth had.

Gareth smiled and shook his head. "Not going to happen." He pulled Bob closer to the blade. "But this might."

"There's guns in it." Rick started, pausing. "AK-47, .44 Magnum, automatic weapons. Night scope. There's a compound bow and...a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you."

Gareth smiled, his lips spreading flat across his straight and even teeth, and let out a short laugh and suddenly the game was over. He put his knife back in its sheath, the gag back in Rick's mouth and patted him on the shoulders. "Thanks."

Turning to his men it was all business once again and terror jolted through Daryl's body as he realized his life was about to end. His only comfort was that Kate wasn't here. He thought of Glenn and Rick, how they knew that Maggie and Carl would meet this same end and he couldn't imagine how much worse this made it for them.

"You have two hours to get them on the dryers, then we go back to public face." Gareth instructed. "Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all down by sundown. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The crack of gunfire, two shots, sounded outside in the distance. Gareth, his calm and controlled demeanor faltering suddenly, reached for his radio.

"Hey Chuck?"

The man with the bat was mid-swing, seconds away from smashing Glenn's skull, when another shot rang out.

They stopped and every living body in the room waited expectantly until a great explosion shook the entire building.

The explosion threw them all onto the ground. Everyone but Glenn, who was buckled over the trough groaning in pain. Daryl watched from his back as the butchers picked themselves up and Gareth yelled into his radio, "Hey, what the hell was that? Do you copy?"

There was no answer and Gareth ordered his two men to stay put.

"Gareth," The bald man started. "These guys aren't going anywhere."

Daryl hoped Gareth would let them follow him out and they could work on escaping, but it wasn't to be.

"STAY HERE UNTIL I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING." Gareth screamed, finally reacting to something with real emotion.

The two men started arguing immediately. For so boldly slitting the throats of men, the man with the knife was a coward.

"So we just sit here?" He asked, anxiety evident in his voice.

"Got a job to do." The bald man replied.

That didn't satisfy the coward, he walked back and forth nervously, trying to reach Gareth on the radio.

"He's busy." His partner said, annoyed.

"You smell the smoke? You hear the shots? He could be dead. What the hell are we doing here? The whole place could be going up!"

Daryl heard a scraping sound and looked to where Rick laid on the ground on his side next to him. Suddenly Rick's arms were free and he worked on the zip tie binding his legs before pulling himself into a crouching position and nodding at Daryl.

The two men were still arguing, unaware that one of their captors was free and Daryl watched as Rick stayed hidden behind the trough waiting for his opportunity.

Suddenly he pounced and although Daryl couldn't see, he could hear Rick attack. The sound of crunching bone and a body hitting the ground with a thud, while the other man only managed to stutter 'no' over and over until they turned into painful groans as Rick stabbed him to death.

KATE -

Morning dawned through the dusty blue shades of the bedroom window. Kate hadn't slept at all, instead she rocked and writhed through the awful pain and the resulting evidence that she had in fact lost the baby. To describe what her body was going through as cramps didn't quite capture just how excruciating it was, but they were of the same nature. She'd eventually given in and made her way to the living room where Hershel was asleep on the couch. She said his name softly, only once, and his eyes flew open. None of them slept deeply anymore. She hadn't been sure there was anything he could actually do for her, but fear required that she not go through it all alone. He sat stoically at her bedside for sometime, checking her for fever, asking her questions to determine just how much blood she was losing and sitting silently when the agony would reach a height so dizzying, nothing but groans were possible.

The worst of it lasted nearly three hours and when the pain finally retreated to a manageable level, she told Hershel she thought she could manage to sleep and watched as he limped out the bedroom. She could hear Judith wake in the room across the hallway and Beth chirped a sweet good morning to the little girl. Judith gurgled a happy response and the realization that her baby was gone hit Kate full force. She laid on her back in a stranger's bed and stared up at the white popcorn ceiling. Hot tears ran down her temples and curled around her ears. She'd spent days holding on to the hope that she and Daryl would find each other, but this morning she admitted to herself that she'd been a fool to believe it and now their baby, the last bit of Daryl she had, was gone too. How was she supposed to carry on now that everything was gone?

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door and then the voices of Josh and Allison joined Hershel's familiar one. Kate didn't make much of an effort to sort out their conversation, she was sure they'd come by to check on her. It was kind of them, but she hardly could muster any feelings about it. They were relieved, she was sure, that they wouldn't have to go off on another wild goose chase for a husband that was likely never to be found. They could return to their home and get on with their life together.

Sure enough, she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing again. She imagined them walking down the drive, Willie at their side, shaking their heads sadly and feeling thankful that they still had each other. She was so sure of her narrative that the sound of Allison's voice making its way down the hallway came as a shock.

"She was going to try and get some sleep." Hershel explained. "I don't think she got any at all last night."

"This room?" Allison asked and then Kate heard the sharp sound of knuckles on the bedroom door. She didn't respond, but Allison didn't wait for her to and suddenly the woman was standing over her. Her strawberry blonde hair twisted in a knot on top of her head and her face, normally so inscrutable, filled with compassion.

"Hershel told me about the baby." She said in a soft voice. "I'm so sorry Kate."

Kate's face twisted with grief and she only managed to shake her head in response. She wanted to say more, pretend that she was strong. She wanted to ask what Allison was doing here. The two women had never warmed to each other and Kate was bewildered at her presence now when Allison could easily be rid of her.

"Josh just left. He's going to keep looking for Daryl."

A watery smile, as unexpected as this news, curled Kate's mouth and a wisp of hope stirred inside her.

"He..he is?" Kate struggled to get the words out, unbelieving that these strangers would be so kind and feeling so undeserving of it.

Allison shook her head.

"Why aren't you with him?"

"Josh will be fine on his own. He goes on runs a lot with just Willie." Allison said. "Besides, I thought I could be more useful here. With you."

"With me?" Kate struggled to understand. There wasn't much left to help her with and she had Hershel here. "How?"

"Kate, I've gone through this, losing a baby, before. Six times actually, before the world ended."

Kate looked up at Allison's face and so much about their time together suddenly made sense. She tried to think of how to respond, what to say after learning of so much heartbreak.

"Allison…I don't...I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

Allison shrugged and sat herself down in the chair Hershel had pulled to the side of the bed in middle of the night.

"I'm sorry too. And I'm sorry that I wasn't kinder to you when we met."

Kate shook her head, embarrassed that Allison felt like she had to apologize at all.

"Allison, you don't have to…"

"I just, the thing is, no matter how many times I'd told myself it was better this way, better to not have a baby in this awful world, I still wish I hadn't lost them. You showed up and it was just…" She looked across the room and shook her head before looking at Kate and shrugging. "...hard. It was just hard."

She stopped for a second and stared into space, a rueful chuckle erupting from her pretty mouth, before turning her attention back to Kate.

"Are you still having cramps?"

"Yes. But nothing like last night. I keep wondering what happened, if I did something wrong. I tried not to push myself too hard the past several days. Thanks to you and Josh, we've had food and water. It just doesn't make any sense. Why now?"

"It doesn't happen right away. The bleeding. Not in my experience anyway. Your body doesn't realize, not until your hormones start going down, that you aren't pregnant. You could've lost the baby weeks ago."

Kate thought of the flu. The fever, the horrible coughing and dehydration, how she'd lost consciousness and how close she'd come to dying and she knew, she knew without a doubt that it was then that she'd lost her baby.

- DARYL -

The group made their way through the woods. They were joined now by the newcomers: Tara, who Glenn said he found near the prison where he awoke alone after the attack, and a group of three led by Abraham the big red head, his woman, Rosita and the mulleted-man, Eugene, who claimed he had a cure. They'd all been on the road, helping Glenn to find Maggie, following her signs to Terminus just as Daryl had.

Abraham and Rosita had taken it upon themselves to be Eugene's protector. The chubby man, who looked more like an overgrown Boy Scout than a human-kind saving scientist, was apparently incapable of staying alive on his own. Abraham and Rosita had been escorting him from Texas to DC, where he could share the supposed cure, when they came across Tara and a passed out Glenn on the side of the road.

Now they were all together, at least temporarily, and wandering through the woods once again looking for food, shelter and of course keeping their eyes open for any sign of the missing.

After Rick killed those men, they had fought their way out, armed with butchering tools they'd gathered in a room filled with humans body parts, skinned and hung to dry. The courtyard was crawling with walkers, some covered in flames and the people of Terminus screaming as they died painfully on the ground where they'd killed so many themselves. There were still those fighting and gunshots rang out as they had made their way back to the train car where the rest of their group waited. Rick flung the door open and they all escaped, fighting against the hoards of walkers that emerged endlessly from the smoking yard. They ran for the fence and one by one, Abraham had helped them over as Rick returned fire from Gareth's group with a gun he took from a man he killed.

They'd returned to the spot they'd buried the weapons and the remainder of their supplies. Rick had begun shouting out plans to finish the job, to kill Gareth and any of his remaining people. He was met with protests. They were exhausted and traumatized and they tried to convince Rick there was no point. That they needed to move on, to get as far away as possible from this place. The newcomers were particularly against the idea, or at least more forceful in their response to Rick, a man they didn't know. Out of everything they'd been through since the start of this whole thing, Daryl found Terminus the most disturbing. He knew Rick would look to him for support, to back him up in his determination to kill the people who committed such atrocities. Of course the new people didn't see what they saw, but Bob and Glenn did and they were among those urging Rick to move on. Daryl hated these people, he did, but he wanted to go. He had nothing else, at that moment, to give. But he knew if Rick wanted him to, he would stay and he would help fight. He was about to give in, he may have even nodded, but something caught the corner of his eye.

Out of the woods, Carol emerged. The last time he saw her they had been in the courtyard of the prison and Daryl was begging her to help Kate. To keep an eye on her while he went to find medicine for her and the others who had the flu. He was too wrapped up in his own desperate worry to find out what was troubling her, although he knew there was something wrong. After the fall of the prison, on the many nights he'd spent alone in the woods, he'd revisited that moment and wondered if he should've done things differently, if he could've done something that would have prevented Rick from exiling her. He was sure he'd never see her again, but here she was, standing there like comfort embodied and he ran to her, like a child seeking comfort from his mother. The relief and joy that he felt as he wrapped his arms around her came as a surprise, he thought he may never feel either again. But it was short lived, as he pulled away and looked at her face everything else came crashing down on him: the heartbreak of losing Kate, the exhaustion from searching for her and the physical toll the beating from Joe's men was still taking on him. He hadn't had time to begin dealing with the unspeakable things he'd witnessed at Terminus and the narrow escape from a grisly death had left him traumatized. Completely deflated his head dropped to her shoulder and he cried.

It had been Carol who saved them. She'd admitted as much to a shocked Rick. Daryl watched their awkward exchange, comprised of gratitude and shame. It was only the three of them that knew that Carol had left the prison before the Governor attacked and none of them let on otherwise to the group who all greeted her warmly.

Rick was overruled. They decided not to fight and immediately headed north, but there was no real destination in mind. Just the need for shelter, a place they could recuperate. Carol and Daryl brought up the rear, talking in hushed tones.

"I can't find Kate." Daryl said, guilt in his eyes. He noticed Mika and Lizzie weren't with Carol and he guessed they were dead. He didn't want her assuming the same about Kate, not when he wasn't sure.

"When I didn't see her here…" Carol said, shaking her head. "I just assumed."

"We were seperated when the Governor attacked the prison."

"I thought it might be him." She said. "I saw the smoke, saw the downed fences and the walkers. You know I wasn't at the prison when it happened."

"I know." He said, his voice troubled. "Rick told me that mornin'. I didn't know what to do, I was tryin' to figure it out when the attack happened. I can't believe Rick did that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be angry at Rick. He was trying to protect the group."

"I know. But so were you." Carol nodded and they walked a few more paces in silence.

"Tyreese is dead." Daryl started again. "Governor captured him and Michonne, rode up to our gates. Rick tried to negotiate, but he killed Tyreese and all hell broke loose."

"Poor Sasha." She said with a sad sigh. "What about the bus? That was the plan, maybe Kate got on it?"

"She did. I saw her get on it. She was with Beth and Judith. I watched it drive away and followed it when there was no one left to kill. I found it in the middle of the road. Everyone inside had turned and had been put down, but I checked the bodies. She wasn't there. Neither was Beth or Judith. Hershel's missin' too. I got out alone, I searched for days with no sign of her or anyone else. I saw the signs for Terminus and hoped she'd gone there. On my way I ran into Rick, Carl and Michonne. We didn't know everyone else had been captured until we were thrown into a train car with them."

"I was following the signs too. To Terminus."

"We should be dead. Another minute and we would have been. How'd you do it? How'd you know?"

"I was close. I was walking along the rails and up ahead was an old, abandoned shack. There was a car parked there and I could hear this man talking on a walkie. When he mentioned a chick with a sword and a kid with a hat I figured I knew who he meant, I mean, how many sword-wielding women are wandering around these parts. He tried to feed me some bullshit line about sanctuary, but he wasn't talking about sanctuary when I was listening in. So I shot him, took his weapons and his fireworks."

"Fireworks?"

"Ya. He said he had to set them off to distract the walkers that were approaching. He was right about the walkers. When I got there, a whole herd was nearing the fence line and all the people inside went screaming."

"I don't know how people willin' to slaughter and eat other humans are so cowardly when it comes to fightin' off the dead." Daryl said, still in disbelief about what he saw in that terrible place.

"I saw you four too, I saw them drag you into a building. That's when I knew it wasn't just Michonne and Carl. "

"And the explosion?"

"Propane tank. I shot it and then launched a firework into it."

Daryl shook his head. "You sure ain't that timid woman I met back at the quarry camp."

Carol's face darkened. "I haven't been that woman for a long time."