With the passing of the fever, Beth knows that she needs to start preparing to leave. If her family was camped here for a long time then they will have most likely cleared out the town centre, but there may be places they've missed scavenging, houses along the road.
She is cautious; while she becomes stronger day by day, she is still only one person with a hunting knife for protection. There are not only walkers to worry about now but other people as well.
For a week, Beth limits herself to no further than an hour's walk from the church. She is very aware of her vulnerability, that she needs to be able to run for her hideout at a moment's notice if necessary. Whenever there are any more than three walkers she hides or she runs, not wanting to risk her life through overconfidence when there is nobody to watch her back.
The walkers she sees are few and far between, and Beth believes that her family must have cleared the majority from nearby, or that they remain locked in buildings in the town centre.
She goes about her work slowly, carefully, checking each house and car as she comes upon it. She has found a container for petrol and a hose, and she siphons what she can, knowing that she'll need to find a car if she has any hope of catching up to them, any hope of surviving on the road.
There are slim pickings in the houses, but she manages to find a few cans of food, as well as foil preserved packets of snacks. She has to stifle a joyful laugh when she finds a packet of popcorn, storing it at the bottom of the pack to keep it safe. She imagines sharing it with the others when she finds them, roasted over a campfire. The greater miracle is when she finds weapons - a handgun on one walker she finds on the road, five bullets still remaining, and a hunting rifle in an old cabin, two boxes of ammunition alongside it. She finds other knives, and even a machete, she takes them all. She is yet to find a car that she can start, but Beth has faith that somewhere up the road there must be one.
She believes she must be at least a few weeks behind her family, and Beth wonders if they might have reached DC yet, on their mission to save the world. Could there really be a cure? Beth might have once believed it, but looking around at the world as it is, she finds it difficult to believe that everything might ever go back to the way it once was.
They have to try though, they have to try.
Beth is returning from checking her snares when she sees that the wood barricading the church doors has been removed, split open as if by an axe, her sanctuary no longer intact.
She melts back into the foliage surrounding the church, trying to decide what to do. If she just leaves then she will lose most of what she has stockpiled, her food and petrol for the road. How many people are there though, and how much would she risk in confronting them? She has the rifle on her back, the handgun strapped to her hip, if she was to take them by surprise then she might just make it.
Beth stays quiet and hidden, waiting for the intruders within to reveal themselves, to give some hint as to their numbers. She will wait until nightfall if necessary before she makes her decision. Beth has learned the importance of patience, in long lessons spent tracking game, Daryl by her side, mostly silent except when it came to teaching her something new, a gruff pride in his expression when she would make a correct deduction or recognise a trail.
Beth does not have long to wait however, as a man wearing a jacket with the hood up emerges, pausing by the doorway to survey the clearing.
"I know you're there," he calls out, his voice kept low to avoid attracting undue attention, "You can come out, I won't hurt you."
Beth hesitates, wondering whether to trust him. It is so hard to take people at their word these days.
There are still good people, Daryl.
It's funny how now she's the one who doubts it. Beth wonders if he's also lost the faith he gained, after all that happened.
"How many of you are there?" Beth calls out, still not stepping forward from her hiding place and ready to run if necessary.
"Just me," the man replies, "I need to ask you some questions if you'll come out."
Beth takes a deep breath and takes a chance, stepping forward into the clearing, her right hand on the gun holstered to her hip. The man looks at her intently, measuring her, before jumping down to the ground from the porch.
"I'm sorry about your doors," he tells her, "I hadn't realised there was anyone camped out here until I got inside, thought it might need clearing."
"I was moving on soon anyway," Beth tells him, taking a small step forward, "Might just go sooner now. You needed to ask me questions?"
The man nods, and holds up a sheet of folded paper, it takes Beth a moment to realise that it's the map she was planning to follow, the road to her family.
"I need that back." She says quickly, taking another step towards him, her hand still upon her weapon.
"I'm not planning to take it," he replies, "But I saw the name. You know Rick Grimes?"
"Why?" Beth asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, "How do you know him?"
In the precious few hours that she'd had with Carol, holding the other woman's hand and crying happy tears, Carol had told her what had happened to the group while Beth had been separated from them. She knows about the cannibals, had shivered with horror while the story was recounted, and while she knows that Terminus was destroyed, she worries this could be a survivor come to seek revenge on Rick and the rest of their family? Beth knows there and then that if he can't convince her of his intentions, she will do whatever is necessary to stop him.
"My name's Morgan," the man tells her, "Met Rick shortly after the turn, when he'd just woken up."
Beth remembers the story, Rick recounting how he'd first awoken and gone to find his family. She relaxes her posture slightly, but before she trusts him she must first be certain that this man really is who he says he is.
"And what happened when you first met him?" She presses, watching Morgan intently.
"My son Duane thought he was a walker and hit him in the head."
"And who was with Rick when you saw him again?"
"His son Carl, and a lady with a sword. I wasn't ready to join them at that time, but I came looking for Rick later at the prison only to find it fallen. I've been tracking them since then."
Beth removes her hand from the gun holster and steps forward, "I'm Beth," she introduces herself, "Why don't you join me inside?"
They sit on one of the only pews remaining intact and Beth offers Morgan some of the meat left from her dinner the previous night, less wary of him now but still cautious.
"So Rick and his group were here?" Morgan asks, and Beth nods to confirm. "You were with them?"
"I was with them at the prison, we were separated after it fell. I got out with one other person... Daryl, then I lost him when some cops from Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta grabbed me. They came to rescue me there, but..."
Beth trails off, unsure how to phrase the next part in a way he'll believe, when she still doesn't quite believe it herself.
"Then why aren't you with them?" Morgan asks, his eyes suddenly wary, "Why'd they leave you?"
He hasn't seen the message left on the alter table, Beth's pack left on top of it. She gestures to the bandage around her head. "I was shot, they thought I was dead, so they left me to rest in peace."
Morgan takes a sharp intake of breath, regarding her carefully, then gestures for her to unroll the bandage, which she does. He inspects both the entry and exit wounds before nodding.
"It should be stitched to avoid infection," Morgan announces, "And then you and I will find them together, but first... First we need to clear."
Beth has realised that Morgan is a formidable ally to have. He has an arsenal of weapons on hand, but he insists that before they leave to look for her group they need more - for her.
"We'll return to Terminus," he tells her, his tone letting her know that it's not a suggestion, "They will have the supplies we need, and we can clear at the same time."
Rick had told them of the man's obsession, and while he seems to have a greater grasp of his sanity now than he did then, Beth wonders whether his insistence in tackling the walkers rather than avoiding them will end up getting them both killed.
When she suggests that going to Terminus will be too dangerous, Morgan disagrees. "I was there briefly before I came here," he tells her, "Most of the walkers have left now, in search of other prey."
So at dawn the next day, Beth follows him through the woods and down the tracks, to visit the place where her entire family nearly met their end. It is a miracle that they all made it out alive, and she hopes she is not tempting fate by returning there.
They arrive in the afternoon, and Beth is surprised by how few walkers there are between them and the entrance. Morgan is right and they seem to have left in search of fresh meat now that the inhabitants are gone. They dispatch the walkers at the front quickly and efficiently, and Beth feels her confidence rise as they work in tandem. Alone, she could never have done this, but now she has an ally, and her chances of finding her family again have increased ten fold.
Once inside the complex, Morgan insists they stay together, which Beth is more than happy to obey, shivering at the thought of what had once occurred here. They are conducting a thorough survey of the buildings when she has to stifle a cry, dashing forward to where a partially decayed body lies on the ground, seemingly killed by a headshot.
Beth has no idea how the poncho got here, unless one of the others had brought it, Daryl certainly didn't have it while they were on the run. There is no doubt in her mind though that it's his, she would recognise it anywhere, the memory of it fixed firmly in her mind. Lifting the woman's arms and then head, Beth pulls the poncho off her, clutching it to her chest once it's free. However it got here, it is a sign of sorts, a new talisman. If she can find this symbol of him here, safe and unharmed amidst so much death and destruction, then she will find him once again. She rolls up the poncho quickly and puts it inside her pack, before turning around to Morgan's amused expression.
"Like it that much do you?" He asks.
"It belongs to a friend," Beth tells him, the image of Daryl wearing it rising in her mind, shaggy hair falling into his face as he dismounted from his motorcycle, crossbow slung over his back. "I'm going to return it to him."
They settle into an upper room for the night, bedding down on the floor. Beth refuses to use any of the beds available, knowing what she does about the former inhabitants.
They have spent a long day clearing the premises, and dragging the bodies into a large pile that will later be burned. The things that she has seen today have shaken Beth to her core, challenging her faith in the existence of goodness. She remembers the warehouse storing the possessions of all the travellers that Terminus had trapped - so many lives extinguished, and the toys, piles of toys, and who had they belonged to? How many children were killed and eaten, with no more thought for them than if they were calves being led to slaughter?
Beth is glad that all those responsible are now dead, that her family was able to stop them. She wonders if some day someone else will be able to reclaim this property, to make it the true sanctuary that it could have been. She hopes so, but she knows it won't be them - she won't come back here again if she has a choice in it.
They have found a treasure trove in weapons, some salvaged from the bodies strewn around, and some from the armoury. There is more than they can carry, but they take the pistols with silencers, and an automatic weapon each, along with as much ammunition as they can carry, and some flares that could be a valuable distraction.
They find medicine too, which Beth knows will be useful if her fever returns or if either of them are injured on the way. There are few canned goods available, but they found some vegetables from Terminus's garden that they eat that night, and Beth had paused over a collection of seeds found with the gardening equipment, before sewing them up in a small pouch to take with her.
She has to believe that there will be a place to plant them someday.
Tomorrow they will finish clearing, and light a fire large enough that it will probably attract every walker in the area, making it easier for them to be on their way.
For tonight, Beth lies huddled in the poncho, unable to fall asleep as she thinks about her family in those train cars they had seen, awaiting certain death and saved only by a miracle and Carol's intervention.
She could so easily have lost them all.
It has to mean something, that they were saved against all odds, that they have ensured that nobody will be trapped by the same evil in future.
It has to mean something that Beth is now retracing their steps, alive against all hope and making her way back to them.
Beth lies there in the dark, the sound of Morgan's quiet breathing nearby and can't help thinking back to nights in the past, of watching Daryl as he slept while she took watch. He was always a light sleeper, needing no more than a hand on his shoulder to be instantly awake and ready to move. In the first days after the fall of the prison he would lie down at a distance from her, one arm thrown over his eyes, almost instantly asleep as soon as he lay down his head.
It had been later, after they had burned down the shack, that he would allow himself to fall asleep nearer to her, inching closer night by night until finally he was settling right by her, one of his hands often brushing her leg or ankle, as if to reassure himself that she was still there, even in his sleep.
She had never been quite brave enough to do what she truly wanted, which was to reach out and comb her fingers through his hair, smooth away the worries she saw on his face. She had been working her way up to it though, and Beth knows that if she had not been taken it would have happened one day soon. Her dream of him recently had allowed to do what she had so often wished she could, to lay his head in her lap and sing him to sleep.
He had not taken touch easily at first, she had realised when she had hugged him after Zach's death. He had stood there, unsure where to put his hands, his whole body tense and on edge, and yet she had been able to feel even then that he wanted to yield, to go against everything he'd ever known and allow her comfort him.
She hadn't understood why he would not allow it until later, as they sat in the dark trading stories. How could a man who has only ever known touch as pain allow himself to believe that there could be comfort in it, that there could be belonging? It pulls at her even now, to think of him alone for so many years, even when Merle was by his side, without any touch of love or affection, never knowing a friendly hug or a kiss of love.
They had been changing that, step by step. She had felt him slowly unfurling, growing in confidence and able to reach out not only when she needed it, but for himself as well. They had been growing something between them, something precious that only needed time and a safe place to develop.
She had not been able to put a name to it, not until that night in the funeral home's kitchen, and then she had only had time for a fleeting realisation before everything went to hell. How could she have recognised it when she had never known it before, never known that you could feel such for another person?
She is not like Maggie to throw herself head long into relationships, to give herself over to feelings and decide what to define them as later. She never had the chance to truly fall in love before, a luxury in a time when everything is uncertain. Jimmy had been her boyfriend for only a month before the turn, and suddenly they had been thrown together, the stakes higher, no guarantee that there was anyone else remaining for either of them. Jimmy had been sweet but Beth had grown to resent that lack of choice, the expectation from Maggie and her father that from then on in they would be JimmyandBeth, that it was only a matter of time before it was made official.
She hadn't loved him, had never taken their relationship further than stolen kisses and hand holding, her father's watchful eye on her at all times in those days.
Zach had been a distraction, a chance to be something more to someone, a sense of normality, and yet she had not been able to give herself over wholly to the relationship, a feeling of doubt always at the back of her mind. She had not wanted to admit it even to herself, but she had known that it was unlikely Zach would survive long. He was too soft, too much belonging to the old world. So she had allowed him to kiss her, and spent afternoons pretending that they were a normal boy and girl, getting to know one another as if they were on a date. She had not allowed herself to love him, had never allowed herself the confidence to fall fully, always keeping some part of herself back while he gave of himself wholeheartedly. There will be time later, she had told herself, even while a part of her whispered that time was what they didn't have.
How could she have recognised what she felt for Daryl during those days on the run, constantly moving from one place to the next? There was never time to reflect upon it, never time to acknowledge it. She hadn't understood the way her stomach would flutter when he would put a gentle hand upon her to guide her, the warmth that would rise within her at his pride when she gained a new skill, or long nights spent glancing down at his face while he slept and wishing she could take all his worries away. She hadn't understood the happiness that bubbled up inside her when he would share something new of himself, something she knew he had never told a living soul.
How could she have known that this was what it felt like to fall in love, when she had never truly known love before?
She wonders if he had known it, if he had been able to give a name to what he felt when he looked across the table to her that night, uncertain and awkward and seeming to dread that she might know what there was in his heart.
It had needed time still, the feeling that was developing between them. Separated first by distance and then by apparent death, Beth has come to know her own heart, and she wonders if Daryl might know his too. She almost hopes that he doesn't, that he might not feel the same tearing pull inside of him that she does, worse for believing her to be dead.
Beth closes her eyes and tries to sleep, the same song from her dream playing once again in her mind.
There was a time when you let me know,
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
A/N: A big thank you once again to those who have faved, followed or reviewed. If you are enjoying it then please do leave a review, they make my day :)