Hershel Greene was a reasonable man. He had had a modest upbringing in a religious home and had learned a good trade from his daddy before him that he had enjoyed teaching to his own children; farming had been good, hard work, they turned a nice profit that could keep up the farmhouse he loved whilst maintaining his modest lifestyle. He had loved both his wives - god rest their souls - and each child respectively and even after his modest lifestyle, his wives, his home and his farm had been torn out from under him, Hershel Greene had remained a reasonable man.

But when his eldest daughter had returned from her routine perimeter patrol sans his youngest daughter, Hershel found it difficult to remain reasonable. Maggie Greene had always been a fiery, stubborn, hard-headed young girl; he had loved that about her. He and she had fought mightily, especially after the death of her mother and her daddy's marriage to Annette, but despite her bravado and her temper tantrums, Maggie had never stopped respecting her daddy, and in turn Hershel had respected Maggie. He had come to expect trouble from his eldest daughter, even now in the turn of the world, he still expected trouble. There was no way he could have ever stopped her from going out and helping, hunting, fighting. She was strong and she was wise and Hershel was proud of her.

Beth Greene, on the other hand, had been a quiet, shy little girl, who loved deeply and dearly and never once disobeyed her daddy. Hershel loved his daughters equally but Beth was his baby, his last, so perhaps he had taken to wrapping her up in cotton wool a little during her short life. But she had begun to shed that cotton wool, shed her father, and Hershel watched as she grew fiercer, stronger, older. He was proud of her, proud of the young woman she was becoming, but it worried him. She would always be his baby, his Beth, and Hershel had never thought he would have the same fears and worries over her as he did with Maggie.

But now Maggie stood before him, worrying at her lower lip in a curious imitation of her little sister, telling him Beth had gone. And worse still, Maggie had let her.

Hershel had no real qualms with Daryl Dixon. He was a smart man, a trustworthy man of his word, a loyal man – or so he had thought. Hershel's emotions had been run to ruin in the last week – the last few years – as he had looked into those deep blue eyes of his baby daughter and listened to her confirm that yes, she had been involved with a man twice her age and yes, that man was in fact Daryl Dixon.

And now her sister had allowed her to leave the prison, head off into the danger of the forest, with none other that Daryl Dixon.

Back in Hershel's drinking days, it had not been unusual for his world to be shrouded by a thin, red mist. It often waned, thinning out and thickening, between a rosy tint and a deep, scarlet blood red, but it was almost always there, waiting to be noticed. As he stood talking to Rick in the wake of his eldest daughter's revelations, taking in all of the information afforded him, he felt that same, old friend of red mist begin to descend over him.

'We just can't spare the people to go out and look for them,' Rick said. His tone held an honest edge of apology, but it did nothing to appease Hershel. 'Michonne is out looking for the governor and without Daryl, Glen and Maggie are going to have to go out to find food, and neither of them can hunt or track like Daryl can - and that takes the number of people on guard even lower, which is even more of a risk now with the east wing still down. Tyreese and Karen are working to get it back up and secure but we just can't afford to send more people out. Not now.'

'What about Carol? Or Sasha?' Hershel pushed.

'They're too valuable, I need them here, guarding. And Carol has her classes with the children – she thinks we may have a problem with young Lizzie, she seems to have developed a strange attachment to the walkers. We can't risk jeopardising her well-being or safety and right now Carol is the string holding her back, holding her together. I'm sorry.'

'What about yourself?' Hershel said, knowing his fight was lost. Rick was suffering; had been for some time. It wasn't good for him to keep leaving the prison, keep leaving his boy, who Hershel knew he was losing to the darkness of the new world.

Rick shook his head.

'I can't, Hershel, you know that. I can't leave Carl, he needs me here. And...' Rick rubbed his beard as he glanced around. His face was worn and tired.

'What is it?' Hershel narrowed his eyes.

'Carl confessed it was him who set Daryl up. He planted that bolt.'

Hershel's temper flared.

'You mean to tell me it is because of your boy that my baby girl is out there? In harm's way?' He growled.

'I don't see how-'

'He backed Daryl into a corner and forced him to leave. Beth went after him. That's on Carl, Rick. That's on you.'

Rick sighed and ran his hand down his face.

'Hershel I'm sorry, I really am, I don't know why Carl did it, I don't understand him anymore.' Rick laughed, but it was a hollow sound full of nothing but pain, 'I don't even understand my own son.'

Feeling his anger seep out of him, Hershel was instead filled with a deep sense of regret.

'No,' he sighed, 'I suppose I don't know my own daughter as well as I thought I did, either.'

Rick caught Hershel's eye and the two men looked at each other for a moment before Rick sighed again.

'She'll be back, they both will. And she's in no danger, no more danger than she is in here. I know you're not happy with the choices she's made, but she's made them and she's old enough to make them now.'

Hershel nodded.

'And whatever your opinion is on Daryl, he won't let any harm come to her. I can promise you that.' Rick leant forward and placed one strong hand on the older man's shoulder.

Hershel nodded; Rick was right. Hershel was so often the moral compass of the group, so often there to provide answers or shed light on the difficult situations Rick found himself in, but he was grateful to Rick as he instead helped him now. He feared for Beth's safety, feared for the route she was taking, but she was a smart girl and Daryl was a good man. He shook his whitened head; she would come back.

'Now,' Hershel said, taking in the soft look on Rick's face, 'what are you going to do with that boy of yours?'

. . .

The morning brought rain; Beth woke to the sound of it hitting the tarp above her head, the tarp she had fallen asleep under with surprising ease. Upon waking she realised Daryl was not beside her, so she sat up to look around, noticing his jacket was over her as it slipped from her shoulders and down to her waist as she sat.

'Daryl?' she called softly.

'M here,' he said back, stepping into view. His hair was damp and partly clinging to his face as he looked down at her, his crossbow leisurely balanced over his shoulder.

'What're you doing?' Beth asked.

'Sortin' shit,' he shrugged, 'packin' up.'

'We moving on?' Beth asked, cocking her head as she looked at him.

'Y'wanna sit out here in the rain instead?' Daryl asked dubiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

'No,' Beth shook her head and got to feet, handing Daryl his jacket back to him.

'Keep it,' he said, 'I'm tougher than you.'

'Is that what you think?' Beth laughed, 'I could take you on any day, Daryl Dixon.'

'Maybe later,' he said with a slight smirk as Beth took the jacket from him anyway and shrugged it on, appreciating the extra warmth it generated as well as the layer against the rain.

With the remains of the deer carcass carefully flung over Daryl's shoulder, the two of them set off through the forest and out towards the main road.

As they walked, they came across a small wooden shack just off the side of the dirt trail road, with a little wooden porch. Beth looked across to Daryl who nodded his approval; they could sit out the rain inside.

Daryl left what was left of the deer outside the door on the wooden porch protected by the overhang of the roof and pushed open the door; beyond was one single small room, the walls covered with cardboard and the light filtering in through the two front windows which were flanked by tattered old curtains, fluttering lightly in a breeze that broke in through the thin windows. It was dingy and dusty but it was as good a place to hold up as any.

Beth dropped her bag in the far corner and, after kicking away some of the surface dirt from the floor, sat down in the middle of the cabin. She watched Daryl as he looked through both windows then paced the small floor space, checking the walls around them.

'Sit with me, Daryl?' Beth said, her eyes following him.

Daryl just shook his head. Understanding, Beth let her eyes drop to the floor, her fingers trailing patterns in the dust on the floor.

'I miss Judith,' Beth said, mainly to herself, 'they grow so quickly when they're this little.'

Drawn by the silence, Beth glanced up to see Daryl had stopped pacing and was watching her, a light frown on his face.

'What?' Beth asked, a smile playing on her lips.

'Y'wanna go back t'the prison?' Daryl said.

'Well, yeah,' Beth tilted her head, 'I never meant to leave forever.'

'Y'wanna go back now?' Daryl asked.

Beth shrugged.

'Y'miss the kid?' Daryl said as he wandered over to the window.

Beth watched him, her eyes drawing over his back.

'Don't you?' She asked.

'No'really,' Beth saw Daryl shrug, the wings on his back shifting with his body.

'Oh come on, you're soft on her, I've seen you with her, your lil' asskicker.'

Daryl turned around to look at Beth, offering her a soft smile through his hair.

He shrugged one shoulder up.

'How come y'got dumped wi' baby sittin' duty anyway?' He asked, his eyes on her face.

'I didn't get dumped with it,' Beth chuckled as she shook her head, 'I like doing it, I like Judith and I'm happy to help out. Give Rick a break.'

'She's probably not even his kid,' Daryl grumbled.

'Don't be cruel!' Beth chided, then added, 'besides, it's good practice.'

Beth couldn't help but laugh as Daryl bulked, his eyebrows raising.

'For if Maggie and Glen ever have a baby,' she laughed.

'They'd be stupid to,' Daryl said, his eyebrows lowering back until he was frowning at her.

'Why? Don't you think children are the future?' Beth titled her head as she spoke to him, her full lips curved up in a playful, teasing smile. Daryl shifted from foot to foot, his gaze dropping from hers.

'Nah,'

'You never wanted children?' Beth asked softly.

Daryl scoffed.

'World's always been shit,' he said, as though that was an answer. Beth regarded him for a moment.

'I think you'd make a lovely father,' Beth grinned.

'Stop,' Daryl growled, turning to look out of the window behind him. 'C'mon, rain's let up. Let's go.'

Chuckling to herself, Beth hoisted herself up from the floor and followed him out into the now chilly forest.

Daryl was even quieter than usual as they walked, and Beth received a very guarded aura from him. She walked along beside him, sparing him glances every so often, but she could see from his face he was lost in his own thoughts.

The forest began to thin again and Beth recognised elements of civilisation, discarded cars and left over camps. None of these things turned up anything useful, so the two of them pushed on.

'Daryl,' Beth said after a while. As they walked, something had been coming into view through the trees. Something big.

'Yeah,' Daryl said, knowing where Beth had been looking, 'looks like a store.'

'Should we check it out?' Beth asked as they climbed up a small grassy verge.

Daryl paused atop of it, reaching out a hand to help Beth up, pulling her up after him as he kept his eyes fixed on the building growing in size through the trees.

'Might be too much f'us t'tackle,' he said, rubbing a hand over his chin in thought.

'We could look from the side and see?' Beth said. It seemed like a good thing to check out, there could be endless supplies within, both food and survival. It seemed silly not to check it out at all.

'Mm,' Daryl nodded. Beth could feel the uncertainty radiating from his body as he stood there, looking out.

After a moment's contemplation, they continued walking until they broke through the trees and the store came into view. Ahead of them was a large retail store, cordoned off by chain fences. The front car park was full of green tents and trucks.

'What is this?' Beth asked, confused. The scene before did not match her expectations.

'Looks like army,' Daryl said, one hand over his eyes to shield from the sun as he looked out over the view, 'they pro'a'ly set up a camp fo' the people here.'

'Is it safe? Should we check it out?' Beth asked, glancing to Daryl. His face was grim set.

'Maybe,' Daryl mused.

Slowly, they edged closer to the perimeter, where Beth began to get a clearer view of the set up through the fence; there were several large tents and awnings around the carpark, holding host to a various assortment of things -foldaway tables, trunks and gurneys all around, punctuated by several large vehicles. As for walkers, there were none that Beth could see.

'It looks okay,' Beth said hopefully, looking to Daryl.

Daryl jerked his chin up to the rooftop, barely visible from where Beth stood.

'Walkers – on th' roof.' he said.

Beth followed his line of sight and bit her lip.

'Is that a problem?' she asked.

'Could be. Depends on th' structural integrity o' the roof. Don't think th' two of us should risk it, maybe come back wi' more people.'

Slowly, Beth nodded. Careful not to stray too far, she walked a little ways around the fencing, taking in the sight – maybe there were some first aid supplies they could take from the abandoned army base. She could not help but wonder what had happened here, what had happened to the army or the people who had set up here. Where were they now?

'Daryl,' she called, coming to a stop.

She heard Daryl cross the gravel to reach her. Without tuning to look at him, she pointed across to three cars parked a little ways from them.

Daryl took off from her then, running to the cars. Beth knew nothing about cars, but she was able to recognise the ones always parked out the front of the prison.

'Are they ours?' she asked once she had caught up with Daryl over by the parked cars as he walked around them, inspecting them.

He nodded.

'Are our people inside?'

Daryl looked at her across the bonnet of one of the cars.

'Maybe,' he said.

Suddenly, whilst the two of them looked at one another over the car, there was an almighty crash from somewhere deep within the store. They stared at each other for another second before Daryl took off in a sprint, running for the fence and clambering in through a slash in the wire, pausing only to hold it open for Beth to follow. They headed for the doors, weaving their way through the army set up, Beth trying to ignore the bodies that still littered the floor – the burnt up bodies.

Daryl pushed the doors open to the dark store and Beth followed him just as the ceiling began to give way.

'Jesus christ,' Daryl breathed as he paused to take in the sight of the store. Pools of light were beginning to erupt in the ceiling as sections of the roof gave way, caving in under the weight of the walkers who had gathered together in one spot after the initial loud noise, their pressure proving too much for the weakened roof.

'That's Glen!' Beth cried, spotting her brother in law.

'No! Wait!' Daryl yelled, grabbing Beth's arm and pulling her to him to stop her from running off.

'Daryl!' Beth cried, pulling herself free.

'Stay by me!' he shouted.

Reluctantly Beth nodded, eager to move on and help their friends. She allowed Daryl to run ahead, following him down the aisle, keeping her eyes up on the roof which was dropping more and more walkers down onto them as they went.

The walkers had overrun Glen before they got there, knocking him to the floor and crawling all over him as he struggled to keep control. As Daryl and Beth ran to him, Glen grabbed his gun from the floor beside him and shot his bullet through the head of the walker that was crawling up his legs.

Daryl reached out and pulled the younger man to his feet as Glen threw off the walker.

'Daryl,' he gasped as Daryl clapped him on the shoulder.

But there was no time for greetings or thanks as the panicked cries of their fellow camp mates filled the air. Gunshots perforated the air as the three of them honed in on where the noise was coming from, trying to figure out who needed help the most.

As they moved through the mess, the throng of walkers, Beth spotted Michonne and Sasha, Sasha having followed Michonne's suit and picked up a pole, which she was using to cave in the heads of the approaching walkers beside Michonne and her sword as Sasha's brother, Tyreese, shot wildly into the crowd of walkers who were knocking him back into a wall.

'Daryl!' Glen called breathlessly over the sound of gunfire and shouts, 'Bob! He's stuck!'

They ran to the middle of the aisle where several walkers were beginning to crawl across the floor amid broken glass and spilt liquid to a fallen cabinet – a cabinet from which the shouts of a trapped and injured Bob were coming.

'Beth!'

Beth spun around, her gun raised, to see Zach standing a little way from her, ashen faced and panting.

'Zach!' Beth cried, surprise intermingled with shock at the sight of him.

'Careful!' he yelled, shooting a walker just past Beth's shoulder. Beth screamed and ducked. Zach ran to her and grabbed her forearm, yanking her around to face him.

'What're you doing here!' He shouted to her.

Beth looked around herself – she couldn't see Daryl.

'We – we saw the cars!' she said.

Zach nodded.

'Help me get Bob!' He said.

Beth nodded back, her heart firmly lodged in her throat, as Zach pulled her over to the cabinet in time to see Bob peeling back to rotting scalp of a walker that was wildly gnashing its teeth at him, desperately trying to bite him. Bob plunged his hand into its brain until it stopped moving.

Zach grabbed the edge of the cabinet and with a grunt, pulled it up, sweat rapidly beading on his forehead.

Beth grabbed Bob's shoulders and pulled him, trying to tear him free from the debris.

Then Zach's scream drew her away from it, causing her to let go of Bob.

Dropping Bob who screamed for her as a walker approached them, Beth turned to Zach, her eyes wide as they fell to his ankle – an ankle a walker had sunk its teeth in to.

'It's a'right!' Suddenly Daryl was there, his boot crashing down onto the walker's head so that he released Zach, 'we get yer back we cut it off!'

Pale and sweating, Zach collapsed onto Beth, who tried to keep him upright but her knees buckled slightly.

'It's okay!' she cried, 'you're okay!' She looked to Daryl, her eyes wide and desperate.

Only it was not okay, and Beth suddenly realised that as a painfully loud creaking drew her attention up to the ceiling where – to her utter horror and dismay – an army helicopter was balancing precariously on top of a sodden ceiling, saturated with rain water and the weight of the many walkers. The creak grew as flecks of dust and debris began to fall down, filtering down through the intruding light and scattering across the floor and the cabinet. Beth stared up, mouth agape, as the horror of the situation drew on her, turning her blood to ice.

'Beth move!' Daryl screamed, grabbing her shoulder and tearing her back, her boots skidding across the spilled liquid that covered the linoleum.

The entire scenario could not have lasted more than thirty seconds, but Beth watched it all as if time had slowed down as Daryl pulled her backwards, his hands strong and firm on her shoulders.

Zach fell from her grip, his ankle bleeding profusely and unable to maintain his own weight as he stumbled down onto the floor, inches from Bob who was desperately trying to crawl out from underneath the cabinet, his fingertips grasping on the floor as his lower body remained steadfast beneath the cabinet. Bob's eyes locked on Beth's as the helicopter broke through; first the lights fell down, swinging from their wires and crashing down onto the cabinet, then the helicopter itself came down, falling down in a plume of thick smoke that covered the store around them, hiding both Zach and Bob, but not their desperate screams.

Daryl tore her away.

They broke through the front of the store in a daze, knocking back and firing at the walkers that converged on them as the whole roof fell in.

Daryl dragged her back through the chain link fence and towards the cars.

'Are y'okay?' He asked once they had stopped, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

'I-' she gulped, her eyes darting from each of his, her breath hitching. She looked down and swallowed, calming her heart.

'Zach,' she breathed.

'I know,' Daryl said softly.

'Beth,' Glen was there then, beside Daryl. Daryl stepped aside to allow him to see her. Beth glanced at Glen for a moment before he pulled her into a tight embrace.

'Wha' th'hell happened in there?' Daryl growled as Glen let Beth go. Beth pushed her hair back from her face and glanced around at the others.

'Bob – Bob knocked the wine display over,' Sasha croaked, she was holding a bleeding shoulder, leaning against her brother who was covered in blood splatters and sweat.

'We tried to grab him when all the walker's started falling.' Glen said.

'We need to get out of here.' Michonne said, looking from Glen to the others, 'before they come out.'

'Are you – are you coming with us?' Glen asked Beth.

Beth looked over to Daryl, who nodded.

'Y'didn't see the walkers on the roof?' Daryl asked Glen over Beth's head as he held one of the car doors open for her.

Glen shook his head.

'Where's Rick?' Daryl asked, his eyes narrowed on Glen as he started up the car and pulled away from the building, 'why isn't Rick here?'

'He's – he was needed at the prison.' Glen swallowed.

Beth frowned at the back of Glen's head. Something was wrong.

'Why?' Daryl asked quietly.

'There's – there's something else.' He said.

'What?' Beth said, leaning forward so she was between the two front seats. 'What is it?'

'Don't panic,' Glen said, 'but your dad had an accident.'

'What?' Beth's heart fell to the floor of the car.

'He went – he was out and – well – a walker got to him -'

'No!' Beth cried as a multitude of acidic saliva rushed to her mouth.

'He's okay – he's okay.' Glen assured her, turning around in his seat to make eye contact with her for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

'How can he be okay!' Beth cried.

'Rick had to – he's fine.' Glen shook his head.

'Glen what's happened?' Beth demanded.

Glen swallowed.

'You should see for yourself.' He said.