Ch. 2

I'm so sorry about the mistaken upload earlier! I blame it on my WSC brain!

This is the next part of Drift. It's Beth's journey.

This story will be three chapters long plus an epilogue.

His mission was simple.

Clear.

That's all he had to do, and he could do that anywhere. It would be even better to clear a path for people to follow—to find sanctuary. He was the shepherd now, and he was clearing a path for the sheep to follow.

It was a pure accident that he stumbled upon the church in the middle of the woods. It was a sign from God that he found the map with Rick's name written on it. It was proof that he was doing what he was called to do.

Now, instead of moving and clearing, he had a destination in mind. He would clear that path all the way to D.C., and God would usher the sheep inside the gates, and he would be redeemed and could finally rest.

He left three gifts on the altar and grinned as he felt a little hope settle into his weary bones.

Once he was outside, he did a quick sweep of the yard. There were plenty of walkers that had already been cleared, their bodies decomposing back into the earth. A car was off to the side of the church, and Morgan walked that way to see if there was anything inside that would help him on his trip.

When he got close enough, he heard the low noises of a walker trapped inside, and he sighed heavily before pulling open the back door. A girl lay across the bench seat, her blonde hair streaked with dried blood. He wondered why that hadn't put her down, before he pulled out his own knife to do the job.

Her head didn't turn toward him like walkers normally would. She didn't gnash her teeth or try and pull herself closer to him. As he watched her, it was like she was in a fevered dream, tossing and turning slightly, mumbling under her breath.

He reached out and placed a cool hand on her forehead. She was burning up, and she flinched from his touch. When he pulled his hand back, he saw the dot of blood on his palm. The girl rolled over and her face became visible.

There were scars on her face with stitches that should have been taken out days ago and a small wound near her hairline.

His grip on his knife tightened, and he knew what he should do, what was the kind thing to do, what he was called to do, but the girl sighed, and in her sleep, whispered, "Don't go, daddy."

He almost dropped his knife as Duane's last words were breathed out through this girl's mouth. After several seconds of shaking and trying to breathe again, Morgan closed his eyes and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered then cleared his throat. "I hear ya, Lord. Okay."

It took him several attempts to get her out of the car and into the church. He found several bottles of water in the floorboard near her, and wandered how she had gotten it, but then decided it didn't matter.

It was a miracle she was alive, and whether she had found the strength to get the water herself or her group had left it in there when they obviously ran from walkers, it didn't matter. There were letters on the bottle caps E, A, G, M, R, T, but that didn't mean anything to him, and he doubted if she lived it would mean anything to her.

Once he laid her in a pew, he looked over her head wound and knew, without a doubt, that they thought she was dead and what was worse, they thought since it was a head shot that she wouldn't turn.

He hit his knees and took a deep breath before he starting praying, asking God to heal this girl before him, allow him to show her the way back to her people, or if they were all dead, deliver her to a safe place with good people.

It was two days of praying and forcing water down her throat before she woke up, briefly, and looked around with blurry eyes. "Daryl?" She had asked quietly.

"Don't know him," Morgan had said. "But if he's alive, we'll find him for ya."

She didn't respond, and he realized she had passed back out.

Morgan spent the next week clearing the general area near the church and taking care of the girl. He found it funny to call her that, seeing as how she was probably nearing twenty, but she seemed so small to him laying there that he couldn't see anything else but a child in need a protection.

She asked for a Maggie a few times, Daryl nearly every time she was awake, sometimes she would call out for her daddy or whisper Judith. The longer she stayed in that in between state, the less confident he felt in her recovery.

Then one morning maybe two weeks after he had found her, she was awake and staring at him as he woke up.

"I'm Morgan," he said quietly and held out his hand for her to shake. She took it gingerly. "Do ya know who ya are? How ya got here?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's on the tip of my tongue," she said quietly, "but I cain't find it."

He nodded and reached for the closest bottle of water. "We'll give it some time."

"What happened?" She asked before she took a drink.

"Found ya like this. I believe your group left ya 'cause they thought you was dead."

"Why would they think that?" She flinched a little and brought her hand to her forehead to where the pain must have radiated from. She froze when her hand touched the healing bullet hole. After a few seconds she gasped, "Oh."

Walking was different, she figured that out quickly. Her equilibrium was off, and her emotions were out of control. She would lash out at Morgan who was trying to help then feel so guilty that she would cry. Crying gave her a fierce headache, so she tried to breath deep and stop from doing it.

"We ain't got much time left to stay here," Morgan had said a couple of days after she woke up for good. He had explained his purpose to her and how he would direct her to a safe area before continuing on. She didn't remember much, but he would talk about Rick and the map, and she would get a tingle of recognition as her mind searched for a face but came up empty.

In her dreams, she would see people that she knew, she would say names, and they would say hers back, but when she woke up, everything stayed beyond her reach.

"We can go," she said and tried to eat some of the canned pears on her plate.

"Ya were sayin' thangs when ya were out," he spoke and nodded to the pew that had been her sick bed. "Ya asked for people, said names. Ya think if I told ya what ya said that ya'd remember?"

She shrugged. "I don't even remember my own name right now. Anythin' would be good."

"There was a Judith that ya mentioned and a Maggie," he said and watched her face intently. Those names danced in her head as she fought to remember the face to match them. "Ya wanted your daddy," he whispered, and a flash of a man kneeling in the grass went through her thoughts, and she gasped. That was followed by the memory of singing to a small baby in a barred in room. "Ya asked for Daryl a lot."

As if on cue, the damn burst and she closed her eyes against the torrent of memories that spilled over her.

The farm.

Her momma and brother.

Trying to kill herself with a shard of glass.

I'm sorry.

The prison.

Her daddy and how Rick pleaded for peace.

We can change. We're not too far gone.

Getting out with Daryl.

We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go.

Somehow, someway falling in love with him.

We should burn it down.

Then the funeral home.

Beth! Beth! Run! Run! Beth, pry open a window. Get your shit.
I'm not gonna leave you.

Being taken.

Grady and all the horrors within.

That stupid, split second decision to stab Dawn with scissors and taking a bullet to the head while Daryl was just a few steps away.

I get it now.

She tried to stop the tears, didn't want the headache that followed, but her heart broke over and over as she relived everything. When the sobs became too much and the pain too great, her body shut down, and she was met with darkness again.

They had been on the road for a couple of hours before she asked for a break. When they sat down side-by-side, she said, "I know Rick."

Morgan nodded. "That's good. Looks like they're headin' for D.C."

When they got up and started walking again, Beth felt a renewed energy with each step she took closer to them. She could only hope and pray that they were still all alive and together still.

Maggie hadn't been in the hallway, so she tried not to think about the bad things that could have happened there. Glenn wasn't there either, so maybe him and Maggie were together and hadn't found the group yet at all.

She hadn't been able to talk to Carol before the exchange because Dawn kept them separated and guarded, so if she knew anything, Beth didn't know it.

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Daryl Dixon was alive, and he had found her. Now, she was going to go and find him.

They had been walking down Route 16 for a while. Snow was falling and gathering on the ground. It wouldn't be too long before they had to stop and find shelter.

Morgan didn't want to stick to the woods anymore because he was afraid that he would get turned around, so they had moved to the road. When Beth asked him why they didn't just stay in the trees in view of the road, he said, "It's time to be out in tha open."

"This road is pretty clear already," she said next.

He paused mid-stride and looked toward her. "I'm not tha first man that's been called to clear, and I won't be tha last."

"This is a good sign, though, right? No walkers tracks in tha snow?"

Morgan nodded and started walking again. Beth followed after him, eying the trees and the surrounding area. She had no weapon of her own, only a borrowed knife from Morgan, but she could handle herself. As she scanned the woods, she got the feeling they were being watched, and she walked a little faster.

Not even an hour later, man stepped from the trees with his hands raised. "I'm Aaron, and I have some good news."

Beth was instantly wary, and Morgan was downright confrontational, telling him to leave and go away.

"I've watched y'all for a few days," Aaron said and that did nothing to gain Morgan's trust. "You're good people, and she could use some medical care it seems. Plus, the snow will keep on, and you'll die out here."

Beth shook her head. "I could've used that a few months ago. I'm as good as I'm gonna get now. What I could use is a hot shower."

"We have those," Aaron said with a smile. "We have all the amenities you've been without. We're self-sustaining and safe."

Beth looked at her boots, Morgan said, "No, we're tryin' to clear. We need to get to D.C."

"D.C. is a lost cause," Aaron said quietly. "It fell a long time ago."

Beth's heart dropped, and she fought the urge to cry. "We're tryin' to find my family," she said finally. "Last we knew, they were headed to D.C."

"When?"

Beth looked at Morgan who sighed. "Probably six months ago. We're from Georgia. It took us a while to get here, and Beth wasn't feelin' too good when I found her."

Aaron looked torn then groaned. "I shouldn't be saying this, but we got a big group a few months ago. They came from Georgia, too."

Beth's heart started racing. "Is Daryl there?" She watched as his eyes widened, and he seemed shocked that she would ask for that particular person. "He's there, isn't he?"

Aaron nodded. "There's a man named Daryl."

"Does he have a crossbow?"

Another nod.

"Is he okay?"

Aaron shook his head. "No, I don't think he is. He keeps to himself, and doesn't seem to be comfortable within our walls."

Tears leaked over her eyes, and she smiled despite the pain. "That's my Daryl."

Morgan wasn't happy to be going to this safe zone, and he told her repeatedly that it could be a lie. That Aaron might have been listening in, but Beth reminded him over and over that she hadn't mentioned Daryl's name since they left the church in Georgia, and she seriously doubted that Aaron had been tracking them that long.

Once they reached the gate to the city, Beth shook her head. "It's safe here."

"Yes," Aaron said as the gate opened.

The first face she saw was Rick's, staring at her like the ghost she was and her sister dropping to her knees on the cold, snowy ground when she met her gaze.

"Beth?" He asked and took a step forward before scrubbing a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god." Then he noticed Morgan and had to turn away completely, raising his hands against his head.

Beth moved to Maggie and kneeled beside her, hugging her tightly. "Hey, it's okay. I'm right here." Beth got pushed away as Maggie leap up and ran to the fence before vomiting all over the ground.

"Carl," Rick said quickly. "Go make sure Daryl's in his apartment. Don't let him out."

"What's goin' on?" Beth asked and looked to where Glenn was comforting Maggie. "I know that y'all thought I was dead, but geez, maybe ya could seem a little bit more excited that I actually didn't die."

"We had to leave ya," Rick said, his voice thick with tears. "There were too many walkers, and we got overrun. Daryl had to leave ya in tha car. We had to drag him away or he woulda just stayed there."

"I'm back," she whispered. "It's okay."

Maggie took off jogging down the street, and Glenn walked to Beth, pulling her in for a hug and whispering, "We're guiltier than they are. I'll calm her down, but once ya know, she doesn't think you'll forgive her."

Beth scrunched up her forehead in confusion. "What?"

"Just let me calm her down first," he said and left her standing beside Rick.

"So, I play a pretty good possum then?"

Rick cleared his throat and looked away. "Beth, I had your blood on my face. Daryl carried ya down five flights of stairs while ya hung like a damn rag doll. How?"

He raked hands through his hair.

"Just wasn't my time," she said quietly.

He looked to Morgan. "How'd ya find her?"

"Have to clear, Rick. Thought she was one of 'em with tha noises comin' from tha car." He looked to Beth and shrugged. "There were a coupla times after that I thought I should just end it for her. She was delirious for a while. It's tha hand of God, Rick. She should've been taken with tha fever."

"Maybe daddy just talked an angel down is all," she mumbled.

"Jesus Christ. Daryl," Rick said quietly.

"What's wrong with Daryl?" Beth asked and walked toward Rick. "He's okay isn't he?"

He nodded. "He's still alive."

After a few seconds, he motioned them forward. "C'mon inside. We need to close tha gate. I'll take ya to Daryl, but I really should talk to him first."

Beth nodded. "I imagine it'll be a big shock."

"Yeah," Rick muttered. "Morgan, I'll be back, and we'll find ya a place to stay."

"Oh, I'm not stayin'. There's too many towns 'round here that need clearin'."

"You'll stay tha night at least. I'd like to catch up with ya."

Beth watched Morgan hesitate then he finally nodded. "Just tha night, though."

Once that was settled, she fell into step beside Rick as they walked down the street.

There were beautiful homes all along the street with manicured lawns and wrap around porches. It looked like a photo spread out of Southern Living.

When they got toward the town center, it changed to more business fronts and a few apartment complexes. Rick led her to one that looked so normal and like before that she couldn't help but laugh. When Rick looked at her, she shrugged. "This is unbelievable."

He nodded then cleared his throat. "Just wait in tha hall while I talk to him, okay?"

"Okay."

She heard Rick's voice from within, but he was speaking so softly that she couldn't make out the words. She took a step forward against her better judgment, the pull to see Daryl just too strong to listen to Rick's warning.

He was sitting on the couch with his back to her. His hair still overly long and his vest covered his jacket. Daryl turned when she took a step further into the hall, almost into the living room, and stared at her for a second.

There was no shock in his eyes, just drinking her in, before he turned back to face Rick.

"Who was it?" He asked Rick. Daryl didn't watch as she walked closer to him to stand beside the couch. Her mind went wild with scenarios as to why he wasn't paying her any attention. Had he forgotten her? Taken a kick to the head or maybe he just thought he was seeing things.

"Did ya hit your head while I was away?" She asked with a bit of a laugh in her voice.

"Daryl?" Rick was staring at him intently and looked a little scared.

Finally, Daryl looked back up at Rick who was staring straight at her, and Daryl turned his head to face her again. This time his eyes widened and he started to breathe hard and fast.

"No," Daryl said and shook his head.

"Daryl," Beth spoke in a soft voice, trying to calm him down.

"What tha fuck is this?" His back hit the wall and Beth rounded the couch. "You're dead. Ya were dead." He started crying uncontrollably and shaking his head. "Am I dead?" He asked, looking between them. "Did I die?"

Beth's heart broke, and even though it hurt so damn much, she didn't even bother to stop the tears from forming in her eyes or the small sobs that were working their way up her throat.

Rick clenched his jaw and tilted his head away. "No. We were wrong."

Daryl hit his knees right as she stood in front of him. This poor man, this sweet, caring, man. He was completely shattered at her feet, and she was so close to being in the same situation.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and said, "It's okay, Daryl. I'm good. Everythin's fine."

He pressed his face into her stomach and cried, and she ran her fingers through his hair. It was dirty and tangled, but she couldn't imagine him any other way. He might have been a mess, but he was her mess.

She thought back to the night at the funeral home, and how he asked her to sing for him. So many days and night had passed since that night, since peanut butter and pig's feet, and candlelit redneck dinners. So much time and so many lives lived and lost since her whispered, "Oh."

With a steadying breath, she held him in her hands while he mourned and celebrated at the same time, and she sung Daryl Dixon another song.