A/N: I decided to continue this little fic idea I had on my tumblr. Thank you all for your follows, favorites, and reviews!

I listened to Wye Oak's Civilian and People in Plane's Last Man Standing while writing this chapter. You can find links to my tumblr and my fic writing playlist on my profile. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 -

Dark blue eyes stared at baby blue, staring and moving over her face as if making sure she was as okay as she said she was. The petite blonde did her best to look confident and strong on the outside, but on the inside she was still shaken. What would have happened if I hadn't escaped? What would Daryl do if I had been taken? Would he have been alright on his own? Of course he'd be okay physically, but what about mentally? The man already blames himself for the attempted kidnapping, what would he do if they had been successful and I was gone? Her thoughts asked, her stomach sinking at the thought of leaving him. They had opened up to each other over the months they had been together, him telling her more about him than he had ever told anyone in their family before. Beth felt safe, comfortable, cared for with the silent hunter.

She shook her head, they didn't have time to think on any of that right now, and squeezed the hunter's arm. His eyes darted to her hand, a brief look of surprise crossing his features as if he had forgotten she was touching him. Daryl's eyes moved to look around them and Beth could hear walkers in the trees beside the road.

"Come on," his voice was rough and Beth could tell he wanted to say more but couldn't. The hunter bent down and removed the bolt from her kidnapper's head and Beth looked away. "We'll take the car for a while." Beth's eyes moved to the car, namely the trunk, and she frowned. She had no desire to get back inside that vehicle, but she nodded and limped to the trunk, closing it with a thunk. A growl from Daryl made her turn to face him again, jumping slightly when she noticed he was standing directly behind her. He turned her body roughly so that he was staring at the back of her head.

"Jesus, Beth, you said 'just a bump,'" he snarled and Beth could feel his presence walk away from her quickly. She turned her head and watched as he kicked and stomped on her kidnapper's body, his rage showing in his clenched jaw and fists. She reached a shaky hand the back of her head and felt a sticky mass of hair. She was bleeding. Had she been bleeding this whole time? Her mind whirled as she remembered feeling the knot forming while she had been in the trunk but she didn't remember feeling any blood. Then again, she had been panicking inside the trunk; perhaps her brain just hadn't registered the sticky feeling. Her eyes moved to her hand, the one she had used to originally feel the back of her head and sure enough, there was dried blood on it.

"Daryl," her voice was soft and it trembled. Now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping quickly through her veins, she noticed her head was throbbing. She felt nauseous. "Daryl," she said loudly before hobbling to the roadside and vomiting. She heard a curse from behind her before one of Daryl's strong arms wrapped around her, the other helping keep her hair back as her stomach emptied violently. Beth straightened, her balance teetering slightly as she wiped her mouth on her coat sleeve, her ears ringing and the throbbing in her head worse.

"Beth, look at me," his voice seemed distant but Beth turned to face him carefully, feeling dizzy with every movement. "Fuck, I think you've got a concussion." His eyes left hers for a moment, taking in the still approaching walkers. "Alrigh', we need ta go…I'll try to find us a place to rest but I need you to stay awake for a bit. Come on," Daryl bent down to pick her up and carry her but Beth's hand stopped him. Nausea rolled in Beth's stomach as she shook her head and hobbled to the passenger side of the car and dropped herself carelessly into the passenger seat.

Concern filled Daryl but he forced himself to climb in to the car and drive off. He drove for a while, the sun coming up then moving across the sky above them slowly as his eyes moved from Beth to the road and the area around them in hopes of seeing a place they could stop to rest. Beth would probably need a couple of days to recover from her ankle injury and now the head injury. His eyes moved back to Beth, who was still awake and talking to him softly about nothing in particular, her speech slurring every once in a while showing him how bad her concussion truly was. It made him want to kill her kidnapper again, but slower this time. The asshole didn't deserve the quick death he had gotten but Daryl's concern had been solely focused on saving Beth as his eyes took in the gun her kidnapper had in his hands. The bolt had flown as soon as Beth was safe behind him, his only thoughts being ones of relief at the feel of Beth clutching his vest and coat tightly.

"What 'bout there?" Beth's hazy voice cut through Daryl's thoughts and his eyes followed her finger to a warehouse hidden down by the train tracks they were driving beside and he nodded, slowing the car down and parking it around the trees. The car was low on gas but they'd be able to get further in it with the little bit of gas it had left then they would on foot, so he wanted to hide it as best as he could. His eyes moved quickly over their surroundings. He didn't see any walkers in their immediate area so he turned to Beth.

"Stay here, I'll clear it out. Stay awake just a bit longer, alrigh?" Beth's eyes met his and she smiled slightly.

"I don't have our bag…I lost it at the funeral home," she replied, making Daryl blink in surprise at the subject change. His eyes moved to her knife on her hip and he nodded, glad to see she could still defend herself and that she hadn't put the knife in the bag he had left behind in his hurry to save her. "Yea, be safe," she said in answer to his original question. Daryl's eyes narrowed, concern filling his stomach with lead. He climbed quietly from the car, shutting the door softly behind him before making his way to the warehouse across the train tracks from the car, his crossbow knocked and in place at his shoulder, his eyes glancing around him for a walker.

The warehouse's door was open and Daryl paused in midstep when he heard voices, roughly six male voices coming from the inside of the warehouse. He immediately back-pedaled, intending on returning to the car and leaving when a gun cocked behind him.

"I'm claimin' the vest. I like them wings," one of the male voices said behind him. Daryl spun, focusing his aim on the man in the center of the group of six. The man was older, with grey hair and a beard.

"Now, hold on there, Len," the older man said as he took in the crossbow and hunter holding it. "A bowman. I respect that. See a man with a rifle coulda been some kinda photographer or soccer coach back in the day. A bowman's a bowman, through and through. You pull that trigger, these men are gonna drop you again and again. Why hurt yourself when you can hurt others? Name's Joe." Daryl eyed the man in front of him, his thoughts whirling. Concern for Beth, what he could do to get back to her without giving away that he wasn't alone, without leading these men straight to her. He knew men like this. Had dealt with them through Merle often enough that he knew what to expect, what they were like but Beth? She would be like dangling a steak in front of a pack of starving lions. Joe's eyes moved over Daryl's shoulder and Daryl saw smirks appear on the six men's faces. His ears picked up the soft sound of Beth's limping footstep and he closed his eyes tightly, a breath rushing out of him. He backed up a couple of steps, keeping his crossbow aimed at Joe.

"Daryl?" Beth's voice was heavy with concern and something else. She sounded sick and Daryl turned his head to look at her. She was shaking slightly and she looked like she was going to throw up again. Her knife was clutched loosely in her hand and Daryl could feel his anger at the situation growing. One of the men, the one who wanted his vest and had a bow aimed at them leered at Beth.

"I claim the girl," he said. Daryl stiffened, instantly moving in front of Beth. He felt her hands grab his coat tightly and felt a small sense of comfort from the gesture. She was safe and he was going to keep it that way.

"You ain't fuckin' touchin' 'er," he told the man. Joe glared at the man before turning back to Daryl and raising his hands in surrender.

"Hold up, Len. You've got a claim on her, Daryl was it?" Joe asked and Daryl quirked an eyebrow in confusion but he nodded, having a feeling that answering yes to the question would save her, at least temporarily, from the harm Len would cause her. "Alrigh' then, we respect that. We won't touch her. She don' look too good, she bit?"

"No," he answered simply. Joe eyed him, clearly wanting more information but Daryl wasn't particularly feeling up to chatting. "She just needs rest."

"Alrigh' then, we're bunking inside for the night," Joe told him before turning and walking inside. The men stared at Daryl and Beth for a moment before following the older man. Daryl finally lowered the crossbow and turned to Beth.

"I told you to stay in the car, Beth," he chided but his voice was too heavy with relief, even if it was just temporary, to sound angry.

"I could see those men from the car, I was concerned they were gonna hurt you," she told him honestly, her hand finding his and squeezing it lightly. He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes meeting hers.

"Next time, do as I say, no matter what." Beth nodded slightly against his head and he huffed out a breath. "Come on, let's see if we can get your wound cleaned up and rest a little. I'll have to wake you up frequently but rest is the only thing that will really help. See if we can't find something to prop your foot up on too; get fresh blood flow to that ankle." He turned and then stopped, facing her again as he tightened his hold on her hand.

"These men…they're not good men, Beth. Stay close to me at all times, we'll see if we can split from them soon." Beth lowered her eyes briefly before raising them to meet his again, her eyes were sad.

"I'm starting to think maybe you were right, Daryl." He eyed her in confusion for a moment before she continued, "bout there not being any good people left in the world…" Her words unsettled Daryl. Concussions could result in personality changes and he found himself hoping that the concussion was to blame for her sudden lack of faith in the world around them.

"Nah," he told her quickly, "you were right. We just…have terrible luck. We'll find them soon 'nough." Daryl didn't agree with his words but he could see them help Beth as her eyes brightened slightly and her smile return. He also didn't know who he meant by them. Did he mean good people or their family? Her hope that they would find them had needled its way into his brain and he often found himself looking for their footprints or some proof that their family had been there as they walked.

"Come on," he told her before gently pulling the hand he still held tightly in his towards the warehouse.