Warning: This chapter has a lot of violence in it and is brutal. It gives answers to what happened to Beth, and it may be a trigger for some people. If you don't want to read such things, just skip the section in italics, the rest is safe to read.

Ch.7

Maggie had finally left her alone, and she knew that she had Daryl to thank for that. She was finally able to just be alone and not have to worry about Maggie constantly asking her questions or pushing her to eat something or drink a few more sips of water. She could just be alone, just her; no questions, expectant stares, just her and her thoughts. But her thoughts often times led to dark places.

Dark places. That was her mind now. Dark places with dark thoughts. But her thoughts just weren't thoughts, the majority of them were memories. She tried not to let her mind wander to such dark places when people were around her, but the darkness always crept forward, slowly inching its way out. And she was afraid that one day they would all see it.

"Washington. We're heading to Washington."

A deep, male voice, which she had recently come to familiarize with the tall, burly man named Abraham, interrupted her thoughts. All of her attention was now on the current conversation taking place across the room, the conversation that included everyone but her.

"How long until we leave?"

"I'd say maybe a week."

A week. A week until they were to set off on the road to Washington, D.C. A week until she would be forced to converse, live side-by-side, and survive on the road with these people, the people she had considered her family. But so much had changed since the farm and the prison, and while she may recognize each them, she knew that in time they wouldn't recognize her. She knew that in time they would realize that she had changed. The darkness that she had been holding back, trying to keep at bay locked up inside of her would slowly seep out, baring its ugly teeth at the people she had considered family.

She remembered back to the time between fleeing the farm and finding the prison. The long months when they were on the road. Everyday was a fight for survival. And everyday they had gotten to know more and more about each other. They had to. They had to know everything about each other in order to survive. They had to understand how each member of their group worked.

And she knew that being on the road meant there would be know way of escaping Maggie's questions. No way of escaping the lingering stares that would surely grow more intense as the darkness seeped out of her. She knew that with every mile closer they got to Washington, more of her secrets would be revealed. And she desperately wanted to keep her secrets a secret. She didn't want anyone to know. Her secrets were hers, and only hers. Nobody else needed to know. She wanted to keep her secrets and her darkness to herself.

So Beth made a decision, then and there. She wasn't going to Washington, D.C. She wasn't going to travel with these people. She was going to leave. She was going to fend for herself. And she knew that it would break her heart just as much as it would probably break their's, but she needed to do this to protect them. She didn't want to see their faces when her secrets came out, and leaving them, walking away from them, meant that she wouldn't have to. Leaving meant that nobody else would have to get hurt.

She looked at her knife, which was held tightly in her hand, and slowly put it back in its sheath. It felt weird. The weight of her knife resting against her thigh had become unfamiliar over the past week. The absence of her knife in her hand felt even stranger. She had become so accustomed to keeping her knife out, in her hand, ready to use it if need be. But for now, it had to be in its sheath. She knew that she would be using it plenty when she was back to being on her own.

Reaching over and grabbing her bag, she quickly opened it. There wasn't much in there. Not enough to survive for long. She looked around her, surveying the supplies she had close to her. Matches; she knew that she would need those until she could figure out how to make a fire or get the supplies she needed to make a proper fire. She quickly snatched the first aid kit that Bob had left sitting beside her. Her wrists were still tender and raw, so she knew she would have to keep cleaning them so they didn't get infected. And God only knew what other injuries she could get when it was only a girl against a whole world of walkers…and worse, people.

Then she began to put the obvious items in her bag. Food. She put plenty of food in her bag. Canned food. Granola bars. She didn't want to run out of food. She wanted enough to last her for a little while. And she made sure to put a can opener in her bag so she could open any cans.

She folded up the smallest blanket she had and stuffed it in her bag. She knew that colder months were approaching. If she wasn't able to find suitable shelter, shelter that would keep her warm during the winter, she at least wanted a blanket to keep her warm. She fished the flashlight out of Maggie's bag and put it in her bag. She knew that the rest of the group had plenty of flashlights, so Maggie wouldn't miss hers.

Beth reached next to her and grabbed her boots, quickly putting them on. Maggie had made her take them off. She hadn't wanted to, but she listened to Maggie just to make her stop nagging her. She had wanted to keep them on, just incase she had to get up and run, but she had known Maggie would keep insisting she take them off until Beth listened to her.

Beth zipped her bag and buttoned the buttons. She didn't look at the group across the room, but from the sounds of it, they were still deep in discussion over the trip to Washington. She figured nobody would notice her, that it would be easy for her to slip out without any trouble. They may miss her for a little bit, but they'd get use to not having her there.

She stood up and tossed her bag onto her back, taking a moment to adjust it so that it was comfortable. Then she walked towards the stairs. As she started to descend the stairs she heard the footsteps. It was just one set of footsteps at first. She knew that those would be Daryl's, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. But then she heard a stampede of footsteps following behind him, following behind her as they all made their way down the stairs.

"Where are you going, Beth?" Daryl's voice called from behind her.

Wasn't it obvious what she was doing? Her bag was packed. Her shoes were on. She was headed for the door. Headed outside.

"I'm leaving," Beth said, rounding the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

The door was in sight. It was just feet from her. She was feet from freedom, feet from being able to relax. She could feel the tension beginning to leave her body just at the thought of not having to fight off the darkness anymore, of being able to be alone to her secrets and her memories. But that freedom and that relaxation was ripped from her when Daryl pushed in front of her and stood in the doorway. And then the onslaught of questions began.

"Leaving? Why?"

"I can take care of myself."

She'd done it before. Yeah, it may not have been pretty, and she may have been close to death's doorstep when she had found Daryl and Maggie and the rest of them, but she had been surviving. And she had been weak then. She was stronger now. She wasn't exhausted. She wasn't injured. She had food and matches and a flashlight. She could make it on her own.

Beth walked to the door, trying to walk past Daryl, but he pushed her back. And then the questions ended. But they were replaced by Rick urging her to stay. Maggie urging her to stay. Everyone was urging her to stay. Did they not understand that they wouldn't want her to stay? Did they not understand that they would hate the person she had become? They all thought that she was the same, but they were all wrong. Did they not see that she was trying to protect them, trying to save them from seeing who she was now?

And the urging continued, the persuasions. But they weren't working. She wasn't going to stay. She tried to walk past Daryl again, and again he pushed her back. She tried to plead her case without giving too much away. She told them that they wouldn't want her here. And she walked to the door again, only to be pushed back by Daryl.

Her eyes shot to his, glaring at him angrily. She was trying to protect them, but they were making it so hard. If she stayed it would just cause a world of hurt for them, and the wounds that were still fresh in her mind would reopen, bigger and more lethal; lethal to everyone around her.

She held his stare for what seemed like hours, maybe even days, but she knew it was only minutes, seconds. And she saw the determination in them. He wasn't going to give in. He wasn't going to just let her leave. She had to get them to understand. So she did the only thing she could think of, the only thing she thought would give them the idea that they wouldn't want here there, but would allow her to keep most of her secrets to herself.

"You need to ask me the questions," Beth said, taking a step away from Daryl.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"The three questions. You need to ask me them."

"Beth, you're already a part of this group. We know you. You don't need to answer those questions."

Beth shook her head. "You knew me, but you don't know me; not anymore. I'm not the same, Daryl. I've changed."

Daryl sighed softly, finally giving in. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Too many to count."

Daryl nodded and continued with the questions, his tone making it seem like he thought this was stupid and a waste of time. "How many people have you killed?"

"Five. I've killed five people," she said, her voice staying even.

And Beth saw the change in his features. She saw his eyes widen slightly. She noticed how his body went rigid, his fists clenching slightly before relaxing. But the worst was the sadness in his eyes. This is the reaction she didn't want to see, the reaction she knew was being spread across the room. And she knew that the reactions would only get worse if more of her secrets were revealed.

"Why?"

The door opened, casting a shallow light into the otherwise dimly lit room. She moved her hands to cover her eyes, the chains shackling her to the pipe, weaving its way into the wall, clanking and clattering together, the rope, which was meant to secure her wrists further, biting deeper into her raw, bloody skin.

She could make out the silhouette of a tall man, his shoulders broad, his arms muscular. She immediately knew who it was. Martin. "Marty Boy," as she had learned the other men called him. She didn't know where the nickname came from, because nothing about Martin was boy-like. He was man. Tough. Muscular. Brutal. She feared him. She feared all of them. But Martin was one of the worse. There was only one man she dreaded seeing in the doorway more than Martin.

He slowly strolled over to her, his walk triumphant, and she knew why he was here. He wasn't there to give her food, which happened once a day and usually consisted of half a can of uncooked beans, maybe a full can of fruit if the day had been particularly rough on her or they felt she needed the extra energy to keep up with their needs.

"You know why I'm here?" he asked, standing over her, gazing down at her.

Beth didn't say anything, only turned her head away from him, her body leaning against the wall.

"I won the poker game," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You're my prize. Connor deiced to have you be his bet, but Connor lost. Now I have you for the whole night."

Beth fought off the urge to vomit. She had to remind herself that to them she was nothing more than a toy. She was just an object. Something to be used as they saw fit. Something for them to use to relieve their needs, their urges.

"Look at me."

Beth ignored him, her eyes closing.

"I said look at me!" Martin ordered, roughly grabbing ahold of her chin and jerking her head to face him.

Beth's eyes immediately opened, a tear slipping from one of her eyes and rolling down her cheek.

"Don't cry," Martin said softly, using his thumb to gently brush away the tear.

His touch was soft, his thumb was careful. And the fingers that had roughly grabbed her chin relaxed, loosening softly as he continued to caress her cheek with his thumb.

It was times like this that reminded Beth of how dangerous Martin was. He could be gentle, really gentle. And in a strange way he could be loving. He could praise her, hold her as she cried, try his best to comfort her. To anyone looking in on the outside, overlooking the chains and rope and the bruises and cuts, they would probably think that Martin was a loving man in this moment.

But Beth knew Martin. She had figured out how he worked. One moment he would be caring, and almost seem as if he regretted what he was doing to Beth, what all of these men were doing to Beth. But in the next moment his whole demeanor would change and the brutality that had been kept at bay would explode, being released onto Beth.

Right now Beth was only hoping that she would get the caring, gentle side of Martin. She needed that side tonight. She needed it, because if she didn't get that side of him, if she ended up getting the side of him that was brutal, her plan would never work. And she desperately needed this plan to work because she didn't know how much more of this she could take.

Martin kneeled down beside her and gingerly undid the chains and cut the rope from her hands. He frowned when he looked at her wrists. He took one of her hands in his and gently ran his thumb over the marred and raw skin, causing Beth to gasp in pain.

"I'll have to talk to the others about loosening your bindings. You haven't tried to run since we brought you here, so I think we can assume you'd be fine without being chained up," he said, releasing her hand.

Beth nodded once, her eyes looking down, more tears falling from her eyes. He took his fingers and brushed the tears away again.

"You know I don't like it when you cry."

Beth nodded.

"You understand that we're just doing what we have to. It's a part of nature. Men have needs. Women are here to please men. And nowadays it's hard to come across women, especially women as pretty as you," he said, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Now undress," he said, his tone becoming a little harsher and more demanding.

Beth nodded once again and slowly stood up, having to use the wall for support. She was weak. Really weak. And Martin's tone had changed. She was praying that her plan would work, but she was starting to doubt it. She was dreading what would happen to her if her plan didn't work. She was hoping they would just kill her, but she knew that they wouldn't it…these men would never show that much mercy on her.

"You're beautiful," Martin said.

Beth felt his eyes roaming over her body, her body which was now naked, her clothes sitting in a pile by her feet. Looking down at the ground she saw that he had relieved himself of his pants, leaving him in just his shirt.

Martin closed the distance between them and roughly grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her head back. His mouth was on hers in an instant, and he used his strength to force her body to the ground, slamming her down a little hard, causing her to gasp in pain.

And then it started. She had become used to it, though. It had become routine. The hands roaming her body, groping her breasts, squeezing, grabbing, pulling. Teeth nipping at her skin, occasionally nipping too hard, leaving bite marks. And the feeling of a man inside of her.

She had become compliant. She had yielded to them. She had decided that it would just be easier to let them do to her what they wanted to and not fight back. And she was right. For the most part, it was easier. She'd turn her mind off and try to go somewhere else. And soon enough it would be over.

And her submissiveness had started to work. They no longer kept her chained when they came to her. Her submissiveness had allowed her to come up with a plan. And that's why tonight she couldn't turn her mind off. She had to be here. She had to know what was happening to her. She had to be attuned to Martin's actions.

And she was. She kept her full attention on him. She watched as he lost himself to her, becoming less and less aware of his surroundings. And that's when she acted. Her hand inched its way over to his pants laying beside her, slowly pulling his knife from its sheath.

He kept her eyes on his face, and when she was positive he wasn't paying attention to her hand, only to what he was doing to her, she brought the knife up in one swift motion and jarred it into his throat. Martin instantly stopped what he was doing, his eyes popping open in shock and pain. But his misery only lasted a second. Beth pulled his knife from his neck, causing blood to pour from the wound, and Martin collapsed on top of her, dead.

His blood spilled from his throat onto her naked body, pooling in the hollow of her neck, running down her throat and coating her hair. By the time she managed to push his body off of her, her body was covered in his blood, but she didn't pay any attention to it. She quickly pulled her clothes back on and grabbed the gun from the pocket in Martin's jeans.

Beth walked to the door and slowly opened it, her heart racing. Connor was sitting outside, looking sullen, and she could only guess it was because he had lost Beth for the night. He immediately looked up when he heard the door open, and Beth didn't hesitate to shoot him, causing blood to spatter against the wall.

She heard footsteps running to the room. The gunshot had drawn the attention of the other men. Before she knew it a man was rushing towards her. Beth raised the gun and shot him in the chest; his body sunk to the floor in a bloody heap.

She looked up when she saw a figure in the doorway. Without thinking she pointed the gun at him and shot him dead, immediately followed by another man, who she put a bullet through the head. A man was right behind him, and Beth went to shoot him, but the gun was empty. It was out of bullets.

Beth dropped the gun and sprinted in the opposite direction. Her plan had been going smooth until this. She hadn't anticipated the gun running out of bullets. She wasn't planning on having someone chasing her. But she was determined to escape. She couldn't go back there. She was either going to escape or she would die right now. She refused to go back.

Suddenly her running stopped as large arms circled around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest. There was laughing in her ear as she was being pulled backwards, back towards the house. She raised her arm slightly, her hand still holding Martin's knife, and quickly brought it back, stabbing the man in the gut.

Warmth instantly invaded her senses. Warmth on her back. Warmth from his blood, stickiness from his blood soaking through her shirt, starting to run down her jeans.

Beth pulled her knife from him and he fell to the ground, nearly taking her down with him. Her hands were covered in crimson red liquid, her clothes were soaked in the same liquid. It was blood. Blood from the men she had just killed. Five men. Five lives she had taken. But there were more than five of them, and she knew that they would be coming after her.

So she ran. She ran as fast as she could. She was getting away. So far her plan had worked. Nobody was chasing her. But they would be. She knew that they wouldn't let her go that easily. So she ran, ran away from that house, those men, the memories she hoped would stay there.

Beth shook her head slightly, snapping herself from her horrific reverie. Her eyes found Daryl's again. She had to answer his question. She'd answer the question and then they would know and she would be free to leave.

"I wish I could say it was to survive. It was to survive, I killed them to survive," she said slowly, quietly. "But there was a part of me that wanted them dead."

And the room was silent, still. She could hear the low, guttural moan of a lone walker ambling down the street. And that was her answer. Nobody was talking. A walker was outside. She had been right. They didn't want her here anymore. They had finally saw that she had changed.

Taking her knife from its sheath, Martin's knife, she walked towards the door. Daryl moved out of the way, letting her pass. She was finally going to be free. They had all gotten a glimpse of her darkness, a small glimpse that didn't even begin to describe how messed up she really was, and now she could be left to wallow in her darkness by herself. Her darkness and memories wouldn't have to taint anyone else.

Beth's hand reached for the door and she slowly opened it. The creak echoed throughout the room. And she could feel their eyes on her. Everyone was looking at her. But Daryl's eyes were burning a hole through her. Beth moved to step forward but froze when a voice finally broke the silence.

"You're not leaving, Beth."

It was Daryl. His voice was low, barely audible even in the complete silence. His voice was shaking, too. She had known that he would take it hard, probably harder than Maggie. But she was still determined to leave.

"So you killed someone, a few someones..it doesn't make you a bad person."

Beth turned and looked at him. "Did you not hear what I just said?" she whispered. "I killed five people, Daryl. I wanted to kill them…I wanted them dead."

"Yeah. I heard ya' loud and clear. Five people. Five lives that can never be brought back. But I know that if you wanted to kill them, that if you didn't just kill them for survival, that if there was a small part of you that wanted to see them dead…" he trailed off, taking a shaky breath. "If anyone could bring you to feel that way, Beth, then I know that they did something horrible to you. I don't know what it is. I have my guesses, I'm sure we all have our guesses about what happened to you, but I don't know for sure. But if they did something to you, anything to you, even if they just laid a single finger on you, they deserved to die. Hell, I'd kill them myself just for taking you. So you're not leaving, Beth. You're staying here. With us. You're family."

"Why don't you understand," Beth said, her words coming out in an aggravated sigh. "Me staying here, staying with this group, it's going to ruin things, ruin people. I'm messed up, Daryl. I'm not that girl you remember from the prison, or even the girl that you chased after at the funeral home. I'm different. I've changed. And the fucked up part of me is just going to ruin it for everyone, because I know that you're all going to ask questions, and one of these days I'll break and the darkness will come spewing out of me and ruining everything for everyone else," Beth said, her voice breaking as tears started to fall from her eyes.

Daryl looked at her for a moment, not saying anything. He just looked at her. His eyes sad and gentle and longing. Longing to rush to her side and comfort her. Beth was praying that he wouldn't do that, though. She was praying he would just let her leave.

"We're all a little fucked up, Beth. It's just the way things are now."

"I'm more than just a little fucked up," she said, quickly wiping the tears from her face.

"Nobody cares that you're fucked up. And we've all killed people. Michonne. She killed The Governor. Think she feels bad about that? And I've killed plenty of people in the last few weeks that I wanted to kill. They deserved to die. The people that you killed, they deserved to die, too, didn't they."

Beth didn't answer him, just continued to look at him.

"So come back upstairs, Beth. You're part of this fucked up family. Whatever happened to you, maybe it has changed you. But that doesn't mean that we won't want you here. "

Daryl reached out his hand and took the knife from Beth's hand. He slowly put it back in Beth's sheath, his eyes staying on hers. He brought one thumb up to her cheek and wiped the tears away and then repeated the motion on the other. She closed her eyes. Martin had done that. But this wasn't Martin. This was Daryl. And she knew that Daryl would never hurt her.

"Will you come back upstairs now? All of this commotion is drawing walkers."

Beth nodded slowly. She wasn't sure if this is what she wanted. She still dreaded the day they found out the truth. She knew that her secrets would revealed, that Maggie would find a way to pull them out of her. But maybe they would let her leave then, after they truly realized how messed up she was and she had ruined everything.

Author's Note: So we finally got some answers as to what happened to Beth. I was hesitant to reveal so much in this chapter, but as I wrote it I felt that I had to. Now we understand what happened to her and why she wants to leave. But she's staying...for now.

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