The format of this next chapter is a little different than previous ones. I received some constructive criticism from a reader that suggested that I start a new paragraph when someone starts talking. I have been reading some fan fictions where people do this and think I have gotten the hang of it. Please let me know if you find this easier to read. And a special thanks to the guest who suggested the it. Also, apologies for the next chapter coming out so late, things have been crazy.

Daryl's POV

Daryl sat beside Rick, watching as the sky slowly turned from black to blue to purple to pink and then to blue again. It was a beautiful sunrise, the kind that Beth would have appreciated. Nature's beauty was in stark contrast to the horrific events that laid heavily on the small group. No one but Carl had managed to get any sleep the previous night. Daryl didn't know if any of them would ever be able to sleep again without nightmares.

The redneck took a deep breath of the the cool morning air, which hurt his aching lungs but made him feel more awake. The Marauders had worked him over good, but luckily he didn't have any broken bones. Other than himself, none of the others were physically hurt, but the mental scars would always be there, especially on Carl. Daryl glanced over at Rick, who still had blood splatters on his face and in his beard. Rick hadn't talked since he had slaughtered the man who had tried to hurt Carl. The whole night, Rick had just stared into the empty space in front of him. Daryl was worried that he was losing it just like the time Lori had died. The redneck reached into his pocket and pulled out his bandanna. After pouring water on it, he offered it to Rick.

"You should have saved that to drink," Rick stated gruffly, his voice rough from the long silence.

Daryl was relieved to hear Rick talk.

"You can't see yourself, he can," Daryl replied, indicating towards Carl, who was still in the van with Michonne.

Rick took the bandanna and started wiping his face. Daryl fidgeted with the water bottle, trying to come up with a way to explain to Rick how he had ended up with the Marauders. No one had asked him about it or accused him of running with a bunch of violent murderers, but Daryl still felt responsible.

"I didn't know what they were," the redneck said, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. His statement sounded pitiful, even to himself. However, Rick didn't call him out on it or start blaming him.

"How did you end up with them," Rick asked.

Daryl's mind spun as for the first time he truly looked back on the events of the past few weeks and allowed himself to process them. It had all started after the prison, after he had escaped with her.

"I was with Beth," Daryl replied, her very name causing him pain and guilt, "we got out together." The redneck paused, not sure how to explain Beth and his' relationship, or lack of one.

"I was with her for a while," he continued, not wanting to go into detail. Daryl needed to tell Rick what had happened to Beth, he had been carrying the weight for so long and needed to get it off his back. However, Daryl just couldn't make himself admit how he had been stupid enough to make a deadly mistake just because a pair of big blue eyes had been staring into what seemed like his very soul. He didn't want to see the disappointment in Rick's eyes when he told him how after defending Beth from walkers, he had let her get kidnapped by some unknown humans. Daryl opened his mouth but no words would come out.

"She dead," Rick finally asked, as if he was expecting the worst.

Daryl raised his eyes from the ground and looked straight at Rick for the first time during their whole conversation. An image of Beth sitting on a porch talking flashed through Daryl's mind.

"She's just gone," the redneck echoed, remembering Beth's own words.

Daryl could almost see the questions building in his friend's head, but Rick seemed to sense that now was not the time to ask them and Daryl appreciated that. After a moment of silence for Beth's loss, Daryl resumed his story.

"After that," the redneck explained, "that's when they found me."

Daryl hung his head at the memory of how he had so many chances to walk away from the Marauders and yet he hadn't.

"I mean, I knew they were bad," Daryl defended himself, "but they had a code. It was simple. Stupid, but it was somethin. It was enough."

"And you were alone," said Rick, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Knowing that his friend understood, the rest of the story spilled out.

"Said they were looking for some guy," Daryl said in the most detached voice possible, "Last night they said they spotted him. I was hanging back, I was gonna leave. But I stayed. That's when I saw that it was y'all."

Daryl took a deep breath of air as his own self-loathing threatened to choke him.

"I didn't know what they could do," he whispered, as if his ignorance would make up for what had happened.

"It's not on you Daryl," Rick said.

Daryl looked up to find the leader staring straight at him. There wasn't an ounce of hatred or blame in Rick's face, only acceptance.

"It's not on you," Rick repeated, "You being back with us here, now, that's everything."

While Daryl knew Rick was being honest, the more cynical part of him couldn't believe that after everything he had done, that he didn't deserve to be yelled at and beaten up. Too often as a kid, he had been punished for things that weren't even his fault. It didn't make sense to him that he could just be forgiven, that all of his mistakes could just be brushed away like they had never happened.

"Hey," Rick said, demanding his attention. Daryl looked up to find Rick giving him an intense look. "You are my brother," Rick stated with a confidence that Daryl had always wished he'd had.

The statement shocked Daryl more than anything else. He had been more ready to hear Rick yell at him about what a screw-up he was than accept him as family. Daryl had never had anyone other than Merle to depend on and Merle had often been less than comforting. Rick was the kind of guy that Daryl had always dreamed of having as a brother. However, he used to figure that men of any good character would never bother talking to him, much less accepting him. Yet, here was Rick staring him down as if daring him to say he wasn't good enough to be his brother. The gesture meant so much to Daryl that he didn't even know how to respond. Luckily, Rick was used to Daryl's taciturn nature. They exchanged a nod and went back to staring at the sky.

The sky looked prettier now that all the guilt had been lifted off of Daryl's shoulders. The only thing that could make the moment better was Beth. The redneck let himself think about how right the bubbly little blonde had been. First, there was good people. Second, his group had still been out there. Third, he missed her like hell. For the first time since she had been taken, Daryl allowed himself to truly believe that she was still out there and that he would see her again. After all, it was her who had taught him to believe in the first place.

Beth's POV

Beth flipped the pages of the rugged New International Version Bible, which Gareth had ordered brought to her at Beth's own request. The pages crinkled familiarly underneath her fingers. The blonde found the passage she was looking for and paused to read it out loud.

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me," Beth whispered to the quiet room.

No profound miracle happened, but Beth felt a sense of peace come over her. During the apocalypse, everything had become darker and without her group, things often seemed so dark that they were blinding. However, even after all she had lost, Beth hadn't stopped believing. As a matter of a fact, the apocalypse made her believe even harder. God had a plan for everyone, or in her father's terms, a job for everyone.

Amidst all the death and destruction, there was amazing things happening. If the apocalypse had never happened, Maggie would probably have never meet Glenn. Beth smiled at the thought of Glenn cracking jokes around a campfire while holding her older sister in his arms. If the apocalypse had never happened, Beth would have never gotten to know Daryl. The thought of never knowing Daryl Dixon was a dark one indeed, far darker than her current predicament. The blonde remembered when the strange group had come running into her house with a dying boy bleeding all over the floor. It was impossible for her to know then how much all of those people would come to mean to her.

Beth hadn't noticed Daryl at first, since he tended to fade into the background, away from all the people. Once she did, it hadn't been much of an impression. One morning, Beth had been taking breakfast to all of the guests staying at her father's place. The blonde had introduced herself to almost all of members of the group when she noticed a rugged man sitting off closer to the woods than the camp. On a whim, she decided to go up and say hello. As Beth had walked closer, she could see that the stranger was picking his nails with a large skinning knife. The blonde had stopped a few feet away, but the rough man hadn't even looked up. She had stood there trying to decide what the best conversation starter was when his coarse voice interrupted her thoughts.

"What are you standin there staring for," he had demanded.

"I just wanted to say hello. My name is Beth," she had managed to squeak out before extending her hand.

The redneck had raised his head and Beth could remember being startled by his bright blue eyes, which seemed in direct contrast with the rest of his dark shaggy appearance. After an awkward pause, he had taken her hand into his calloused one and given it firm shake before withdrawing like a snake had bitten him.

"Name's Daryl," he had growled, looking annoyed at being forced to interact, "you one of Hershel's daughters?"

"Yup," Beth had replied, "I'm the youngest, Maggie is my older sister."

The information hadn't seemed to interest Daryl much, who just nodded. Seeing that she wasn't going to get any more out of him, Beth had ended the conversation.

"Well, it was nice to meet you," she had said, giving Daryl one of her biggest smiles, which he had raised an eyebrow at.

Beth smirked a little bit at her initial meeting with Daryl. Now that she knew him, she wasn't at all surprised that he had treated her the way he had. It was so Darylish of him, there was no other word that could better describe his attitude.

It hadn't taken long for Beth to realize that although Daryl often lashed out at people verbally or didn't talk to them at all, his actions spoke his real feelings. He might yell and cuss someone out when they messed up, but he would also help show them the mistake they made and how to fix it. The redneck often acted like he couldn't stand the sight of everyone and yet he risked his life every day to provide them with fresh meat. The more Beth had watched Daryl, the more her opinion of him had risen. By the time the group had taken over the prison, Beth had begun to admire the redneck and she knew Hershel did too.

Although Daryl had had so much to do, he had always made time to stop by and see Beth while she was taking care of Judith. Watching how gentle he could be with the baby was fascinating. The almost constant scowl on Daryl's face would drop away and his blue eyes would sparkle every time Judith cooed at him. Seeing Daryl like that had made Beth want to see more.

Often, she would visit Daryl when he was on watch and tell him a joke or some funny story about high school. At first, the redneck would just listen stoically, but as time passed, he would occasionally smirk or his eyes would twinkle just enough for Beth to know that he was amused. Without any other kids her age, Beth had enjoyed talking to Daryl, although it was usually a one-sided conversation. She had never imagined though that it meant much to him.

Sometimes, she had found herself blushing while talking to Daryl. She had assumed that it was just because she wasn't used to being friends with many adult males, but now Beth thought it might have been something else. At some point during their time together, she had realized that she had developed a crush on the rough redneck, but it never occurred to her that Daryl might even possibly return the feeling until that final night.

The memory of those sea-blue eyes staring into hers that last time across the dinner table flashed into Beth's mind. Beth growled at her past self. She should have done more than just say "Oh" and stare at him like an idiot. Why hadn't she told him how much he meant to her right then and there? Sure there was a good chance that he would have just turned her down and things would have become really awkward, but now it was killing her that she might never know. Beth was usually pretty open about her feelings and the one time it really mattered, she had stayed quiet. The blonde made a promise to herself that if she ever managed to get out of the mess she was in and find Daryl, she would finish that conversation.

Daryl's POV

Daryl checked that the coast was clear before he motioned for the others to follow him. Rick, Michonne, and Carl climbed through the metal fence, which they had cut to gain entrance, and joined him besides the brick building. Then, Rick took the lead with Daryl covering their backs. They moved throughout the railroad station without seeing a single person. It didn't feel right, everything looked too perfect. There were flowers growing out of pots, who had time to plant and care for something that couldn't even be eaten? Daryl's finger wrapped protectively around the trigger on his crossbow as he waited to be attacked, but nothing happened.

"This way," Rick whispered, heading for the tallest building.

Daryl's eyes scanned the rooftops as they walked, but he didn't catch any heads ducking out of view. The next place he looked was the ground, but the asphalt wasn't the kind of medium to find footprints in. Wanting to growl with frustration, Daryl swung his crossbow from left to right, trying to figure out what it was that was making him feel so jumpy. Terminus had been Rick's idea, but honestly they all needed it. Their little group was too broken to keep toughing it out on the road. They needed a roof over their heads and a few nights of being free from the worry of walkers. However, that didn't mean they weren't walking into a trap, it just meant they didn't have any other choice.

"In here," Rick said, as he opened a door to the building.

Everyone filed in and Daryl closed the metal door softly so that it didn't alert anyone to their presence. Then, Rick headed towards the right like he knew the place, his confidence never failing even in unfamiliar territory. The redneck could make out faint murmurs coming from the hall beside him.

"Hey," he called gently. The others turned to him and the order was reversed, with him in front and Rick in back. They crept toward an open door.

"….those who arrive survive," came an unknown female voice, "follow the tracks to where they intersect." Daryl peeked his head in. Sitting at an office table was an older woman with white hair who was talking into a broadcasting device. The room had a high ceiling and was mostly empty. At the other end of the room, several other people milled around a few tables and boards covered with maps. "There are maps at the crossing," the woman informed listeners, "to help guide you on your journey. Sanctuary for all. Community for all."

The redneck hesitated in the shadow, not quite ready to be seen. Behind him, the others shuffled as they prepared to enter. Without a word, Daryl took a step into the room. At first, no one even looked up because they were so preoccupied with their work. This action alone rubbed Daryl wrong. No one could survive this long without learning to always be on the lookout for danger. He took a few more steps, the others following his lead. The woman broadcasting a few feet away didn't even glance up. The redneck was tempted to just turn around and lead the group back out before they had been noticed. However, Rick had other plans.

"Hello," Rick announced as he walked past Daryl and right up to the broadcasting woman. She stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open in shock at the sight of their rag-tag group. "Hello," Rick said, louder this time so that the people on the other end of the room could hear. Daryl sighed; there was no going back now. He watched as a hush fell over the strangers. For a few seconds, no one made a move, both groups just stared at each other across the empty concrete floor.

"Well, I bet Albert is on perimeter watch," commented one man as he set his pencil down on the map.

Daryl turned his eyes on the speaker, who was a young man with brown hair. Unlike Rick or the Governor, he wasn't intimidating and he didn't have a commanding air about him. Unless he had spoken up, Daryl might have barely even noticed him. However, Daryl caught the small glances towards him by the people throughout the room. They were looking to this man for an indication of what to do. This stranger might not appear to be much, but he commanded the loyalty and obedience of those around him, which meant that he was more than he appeared. The man slowly made his way onto the center of the floor.

"Are you here to rob us," the man asked.

"No," Rick responded as he seized up the other leader, "we just wanted to see you before you saw us."

"Makes sense," the unknown man casually replied, "we usually do this were the tracks meet, but welcome to Terminus." With that last statement, the stranger gave a big smile and raised his arms in a welcoming gesture. Daryl could feel his eyes narrow. This stranger was acting too inviting and naïve to be the leader of a post-apocalyptic group of survivors. "I'm Gareth," the man said as way of introduction. When no one replied, Gareth continued. "Looks like you've been on the road for a good bit," he observed.

"We have," Rick answered. "Rick, Carl, Michonne, Daryl," Rick said as he indicated towards each of them. Gareth gave them a smile and waved but none of them responded. Daryl was content to let Rick do the talking, he himself hated such formality and niceties.

"Your nervous," Gareth declared, coming closer, which made their group shift back, "I get it, we were all the same way. We came here for sanctuary. That what you're here for?"

"Yes," Rick answered in a whisper. Daryl could sense the hope in their group, their desperation for safe walls and protection from the outside world.

"Good, ya found it," Gareth said. The redneck shifted, he didn't trust someone who so easily took strangers into their midst, however, there wasn't many other options.

"Hey Alex," Gareth called, which caused another man with thick curly hair to come forward, "This isn't as pretty as the front. We got nothing to hide but the welcome wagon is a whole lot nicer. Alex will take you, ask you a few questions….ah, but first, we need to see everyone's weapons. If you could just lay them down in front of you."

The whole group tensed at the last request. Oftentimes, it felt like having a gun or a knife at your waist was too far away to keep you safe, much less setting it on the floor. They all turned to Rick for guidance. Their leader gave them a nod.

"All right," Rick said, taking his gun out and setting it down on the concrete.

"I'm sure you understand," Gareth commented.

"Yes I do," Rick replied, causing the rest of the group to think back to other times they had stripped newcomers of weapons at the prison.

Daryl slowly lowered his crossbow to the ground. The last time he had put it on the ground; he had gotten the hell beaten out of him by two men. However, he trusted Rick and so if Rick thought they should put their weapons down, then he would put his weapon down. That didn't mean he would lower his guard though. Alex came over and began patting Daryl down for hidden weapons. Looking at the bruises and scrapes on Daryl's face, the stranger couldn't help but comment.

"I'd hate to see the other guy," Alex remarked. Daryl didn't reply, still leaving the talking to Rick.

"You would," Rick answered, his voice suddenly twice as harsh.

Alex moved onto Carl. "They deserve it," Alex asked the young boy.

"Yes," Carl replied without hesitation. Daryl could see how much that answer affected Carl's father, but that is what happened in this world, you become harsh or you don't make it.

"Just so you know," Gareth informed them, "we aren't those kind of people, but we aren't stupid either. And you shouldn't be stupid enough to try anything stupid. As long is everyone is clear on that, we shouldn't have any problems. Just solutions." Rick nodded. "Okay," Gareth said, giving a gesture to Alex, who returned Michonne's katana to her. He went to pick up Daryl's crossbow next, but the redneck beat him to it. He wasn't about to let some stranger touch his weapon.

"Follow me," Alex said once everyone had their weapons again. Daryl followed, but noticed Gareth slipping out the door they had entered from. Gareth was not the kind of leader he had expected. Unlike Rick, he didn't have an aura of confidence surrounding him. Unlike the Governor, he didn't have the stature of importance or use eloquent speeches to entrance people. Unlike Joe, Gareth didn't have pure strength and seniority. He appeared to be a fairly young average man, but Daryl was sure that he was anything but. Daryl had seen the way the people had looked to him. It was the same way he looked to Rick. People only looked to a man that way if he had proven himself. How Gareth had proven himself had yet to be determined though.

Thanks for reading. I hope to get the next chapter out fairly soon to make up for this one taking so long. I am planning on trying something new for this next chapter so depending on how that works out, ya'll might be in for a surprise. Beth hasn't really been getting much action lately, she is mostly stuck with her thoughts, I hope to change that soon but I can only make the story logically flow so fast. Thanks again for the support!