Yay, I was able to get this chapter out on time! This is the first chapter that is completely my own and it was very exciting to write. I hope you enjoy.

Daryl's POV

Daryl stood in the corner of the boxcar, watching everyone but not saying a word. He needed to do it and get it over with, but he just couldn't force himself to stand up and walk those few feet. The redneck stared at Maggie in the dim lighting. The two sisters were complete opposites, but he could still detect some of the same mannerisms, such as the defiant crossing of the arms and the steely look in Maggie's eyes. Daryl had run the conversation over and over again in his head, trying to find the right words. That was the problem though, none of the words were right. He didn't know how to explain to Maggie that he had lost Beth, how she had been there eating dinner with him one second and gone the next. Maggie deserved to know though, even if Daryl would have to finally admit how badly he had failed, he had to tell her what had happened.

"Have any of ya'll seen Judith," asked Rick in a hopeful whisper.

"No," Maggie replied, causing the whole group to cringe at the thought of what had happened to the baby.

"All right," said Rick, bobbing his head and looking off into space, although he certainly wasn't all right.

"We don't know for sure what happened," Daryl chimed in, wanting to support Rick.

Rick looked up absently at him and nodded before starting to mutter to himself. Everyone moved away to give the leader some time to take in the information. Daryl watched Maggie approach Michonne. The two women hugged, squishing Carl between them. Glenn came over and pulled Daryl into a quick hug. The redneck stiffened at the contact, but didn't pull away. The two men nodded at each other in comradeship before Maggie joined them.

"Maggie," Daryl croaked out, "there is something I gotta tell you."

The woman looked at him in surprise. She knew that Daryl wasn't much of one for words and if he wanted to talk at a time like this, it would have to be pretty important.

"Okay," Maggie said hesitently.

The redneck looked anywhere but her eyes, but finally he couldn't keep it in.

"It's about Beth," he whispered before falling silent. Glenn stepped by his fiancée's side and took her hand. Maggie's face show both fear and curiosity for what he was about to say. Finally, she couldn't wait any longer.

"Well, spit it out," Maggie demanded, "what happened to her, what do you know Daryl? Please tell me!"

"Well….I, got out of the prison with Beth," Daryl began, his stomach sinking as he remembered grabbing Beth's hand and telling her that it was time to go. He wanted to stop telling the story, but he had already begun. "We both ran into the forest and lived in the outdoors for a while, always running from walkers. Then, after a while, we ended up at a house….I thought it was safe." Daryl fists clenched at his own stupidity. "We lived in the house until one night we were overrun by walkers. I had Beth escape out a window while I fended off the walkers. The plan was to meet at the road. However, when I got there, she was…. gone." Daryl stopped, not knowing how to continue.

"Gone," Maggie asked in frustration, "what do you mean gone? Daryl? What happened to her?"

Daryl hated having to tell Maggie this, he hated even remembering it. "I got to the road and saw her backpack lying on the ground. Then, I looked up and saw a car speeding off down the road. I chased it, I chased it for so long but there was no way I could keep up…." With that last sentence, Daryl banged his fist against the metal wall. "Maggie, I couldn't….I tried….," Daryl muttered incoherently, trying to explain how hard he had tried to save her.

Beth's older sister was now sobbing into Glenn's arms.

"It's okay," Glenn kept saying as Maggie's body was heaving in sobs.

Everyone in the boxcar had turned towards them, including Rick who had come back to reality. Daryl had never been so mad at himself. Beth should be here right now to see Maggie, almost everyone was being reunited but because he had failed Beth hadn't gotten the chance to see all the people she had believed were still alive. Rick walked over and put his hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"It's not on you Daryl," Rick said softly, "You are not to blame, we all know you did your best."

Daryl yanked his arm away from Rick. "Well an awful lot of good my best did," he shouted, angry more at himself than his friend, "couldn't even protect one girl." The redneck kicked the side of the metal boxcar, causing the others to flinch as a loud bang resonated in the enclosed space.

However, Rick wouldn't let Daryl drown in his own self-hate. "Daryl, no one here blames you, I don't, Maggie doesn't, and I am sure as hell that Beth wouldn't," Rick promised, "the only one blaming you is yourself. The people to blame are the ones who took Beth, not you."

Daryl managed to nod at Rick, his friend always knew what to say to him.

"Now," Rick stated, going into full-fledged leader mode, "We are going to find a way out of here and once we do, we are going to find our people. We are not going to stop until we know what happened to every last one of them."

The whole group stared at Rick, ready to jump off a cliff if he commanded it.

"But first," Rick began, "we have to get ourselves out of this mess before we can help anyone else. So, I am calling a meeting right here, right now. We are going to come up with a plan."

Everyone gathered around in the dim lighting and began discussing possibilities for escape.

Beth's POV

Beth stared at the silky white dress that was being held before her. She hadn't seen something so white and pure since before the outbreak. It was a fairly plain dress, but that just added to its elegance. It had a V-neck and white lace around the shoulders. The blonde slipped the delicate fabric on, amazed by how smooth the satin felt against her skin. The dress ended right above her ankles as if it had been made for her. Beth opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out into the room.

"Oh, its perfect," Mary exclaimed, clasping her hands together with a grin, "now spin around, let us see the back."

Beth did as she was instructed and felt the cool fabric flutter around her legs. She waited as Mary took her apparel in.

"You won't need many alterations," the brunette observed, "we could take in a little here and there but otherwise it is good."

"What is this for," Beth asked, although she didn't really expect an answer.

"Don't want to ruin the surprise dear," Mary replied, "now go ahead and change back so I can get the alterations done."

Beth rolled her eyes and returned to the bathroom. She wondered what would happen if she pretended to accidentally rip the dress. However, Beth didn't really think that would save her from whatever Mary had in mind for her, so she didn't. Instead, the blonde just put on her athletic shorts and yellow T-shirt before returning to the room.

She handed the dress over to Mary who then hurried out of the room with it. Alone again, Beth couldn't help but ponder what was in store for her. From the hints Gareth had dropped, it couldn't be good.

The young girl picked up a couple of books that had been left by her bedside. Gareth had given orders to Mitch to bring her whatever books she requested. It helped her past the time, but usually Beth was too nervous or preoccupied to read very long.

Sitting on her bed, Beth opened a new book. The very first page held a poem:

Man's life is laid in the loom of time

To a pattern he does not see,

While the weavers work and the shuttles fly

Till the dawn of eternity.

Some shuttles are filled with silver threads

And some with threads of gold,

While often but the darker hues

Are all that they may hold.

But the weaver watches with skillful eye

Each shuttle fly to and fro,

And sees the pattern so deftly wrought

As the loom moves sure and slow.

God surely planned the pattern:

Each thread, the dark and fair,

Is chosen by His master skill

And placed in the web with care.

He only knows its beauty,

And guides the shuttles which hold

The threads so unattractive,

As well as the threads of gold.

Not till each loom is silent,

And the shuttles cease to fly,

Shall God reveal the pattern

And explain the reason why

The dark threads were as needful

In the weaver's skillful hand

As the threads of gold and silver

For the pattern which He planned.

Author Unknown

Beth found comfort in the words. She hoped that all of the dark times she had gone through would someday make sense to her. Among all of the dark threads that made up her life recently, Beth had some threads of gold too. Her threads of gold were the times when she would hold Judith in her arms and watch the precious baby babble to her. They were the times when her and Maggie would sit on the roof of the prison and watch the sunset. They were the times when everyone farmed outside in the sun, not worrying about walkers but just enjoying each other's company. They were the times when Glenn would talk about all of the weird people he had delivered pizza to during his last job. They were the times at the house, where she and Daryl had stayed. Secretly, Beth hoped that a few bright indigo strands were woven into the pattern that made up her life, the same color blue as Daryl's eyes.

Daryl's POV

Rick had been talking to the mustache man, whose name was Abraham, about the times when they would be feed and how many people were often on watch. Apparently, there was no one guarding their boxcar, because it was essentially impossible to get out of. There had been a few other people in the boxcar when Maggie, Glenn, and the others had first been put in. However, they had been taken out one by one and never returned.

Daryl walked along the train car, inspecting the boards, looking for any signs of weakness. There were holes here and there that let in light, but none big enough to be of any help. He peered through one of the holes and saw Gareth and Mary walking towards the train car with several men holding guns.

"Hey," he whispered towards the group, "they are coming."

Everyone fell silent, worry spreading like wildfire. A plan hadn't been made yet, no one had expected Gareth to come back so soon.

"Hey," called Gareth's voice from outside, "I know you all can hear me, so pay attention. We are going to open the door and you are going to file out one by one. I don't want any funny business. I have people all around the area just waiting for my command to shoot."

"Alright," Rick called, speaking for the entire group. An uneasiness settled in the air, they didn't know what Gareth wanted from them but were certain that it couldn't be good.

The metal door screeched as it was forced open and sunlight blinded everyone.

"Come on, hold your hands up and walk out," Gareth ordered.

Rick held up his hands and walked out. Daryl followed behind his friend and everyone else filed in after. They were lined up in front of the train car and forced to face forward. The redneck eyed the guns held by Gareth's companions. Were they going to kill them on the spot?

Mary stood beside Gareth and began inspecting all of the captives. Finally, she stopped in front of the girl who had once fought with the Governor, Daryl couldn't remember her name. The young woman shifted on her hurt leg, staring right back Mary.

"This one will last us for tonight," Mary said, indicating towards the young woman.

A couple of men moved forward, but Rick snarled at them.

"Where are you taking her," he demanded, fury in his eyes.

Gareth slowly walked a few feet closer to Rick.

"That is none of your concern," Gareth coolly told their leader, "just be happy we aren't taking your boy."

Daryl could tell Rick wanted to strangle the man, but he somehow managed to keep his emotions in check. Out of the blue, Gareth punched Rick in the stomach, causing him to reel back and fall to the ground. Daryl's hand reached for where his crossbow usually was, but his hand only grasped air.

"Stand up and don't talk back again," ordered Gareth as Rick picked himself up off the pavement.

In the meantime, the men dragged the girl off, causing the whole group to shift uneasily.

"Now," said Gareth, walking in front of them. Daryl noticed that he stopped longer in front of the women and he didn't like it. The redneck swore that if he ever got the chance, Gareth wouldn't die quickly. The whole group's breath hung in the air when Gareth stopped in front of Maggie. He gave her a one-over, causing Glenn to step in front of her.

"Don't you touch her," Glenn threatened.

Gareth smiled, amused by Glenn's resistence.

"I suggest that you step away if you ever want to see her again," Gareth said calmly.

The muscles in Glenn's neck moved as his jaw clenched tight, but he slowly stepped away. Every inch apart from his lover was too far, the few feet between them might as well have been an ocean.

Gareth took Maggie's face in his hand and forced her to look up at him. Daryl had to admit, Maggie had guts. She stared back defiantly at the man who had complete power over her without even flinching.

"What is your name," Gareth demanded. Maggie tried to pull her face away but Gareth wasn't going to let her. After a slight struggle of wills, Maggie gave in.

"Name's Maggie," Maggie replied tersely.

"This one," he ordered, "She is not to be taken. If Mary chooses her, tell her I have a different plan for her."

The guards nodded at Gareth's command, but Glenn wasn't about to let the leader's comment go without argument. He ran straight at Gareth, his hands in fists, but two guards quickly intervened. If looks could kill, Gareth would already be dead, but instead the leader smirked, as if amused by the Korean's attempts to end his life.

"Didn't I already warn you once not to cause trouble," Gareth asked.

Glenn didn't answer nor did he step back into line.

"Glenn," Maggie loudly whispered, obviously concerned about what would happen to Glenn if he continued to defy.

"Yes," Glenn spat out before taking his place again besides Maggie. Daryl wondered if it would be necessary for him to kill Gareth, it looked like Glenn was going to take care of that if chance ever arose.

The leader moved on down the line, stopping again in front of Daryl. The two men stared at each other. The redneck put all possibly hostility into his glare, but sensed no hatred in return. Gareth was evaluating him like an item, something not human, but an object that was very detached from himself.

"This one should work for the ceremony," Gareth told the guards, who moved towards him. Daryl growled at them, causing the men to stop in their tracks.

"Well go on," Gareth insisted. The men started moving again, but hesitantly.

When the first one got within range, Daryl punched him right in the face. The man reeled back with a cry while the other one pounced on him. Daryl swung around, trying to cast the attacker off, but he was weak from being on the road for days and his beating by the Marauders. The man he had punched joined the fight again and the two guards soon had his hands tied behind his back. Yanking the redneck roughly, they dragged him away from the others.

Daryl looked back to see Rick watching him. Silent communication passed between the two men. Neither could do anything, but they both were equally angry. Then, the moment was gone and Daryl was pushed further, losing his sight of them as he rounded the street. The men kept their guns trained on his back, prodding him every few feet. Daryl's head spun from the lack of food and exhaustion. He was led past the train car he had seen earlier, but this time no cries for help came from it.

"This way," called a female voice, who turned out to be Mary. The men pushed Daryl in her direction. The redneck followed her into the building that held all the candles. It was the same as before, except that a large stone alter had been placed in the middle. Daryl was led to the center and pushed roughly onto his knees.

"Let me see his face," ordered Mary. One of the guards yanked at Daryl's long hair, causing him to look up at the woman.

"Yes," Mary commented, more to herself than anyone else, "he will do quite nicely. Bring me a bowl."

A young child brought a bowl to Mary before leaving the room. The older woman walked over to one of the shelves and began searching for something.

"You know," she began, "we have lost a lot."

Daryl didn't reply, he didn't feel like it would do any good, besides he wasn't the type to beg for his life anyway.

"But we have grown stronger because of it," Mary continued as she dug around in basket that had been placed by the shelf, "the pain has made us stronger, the loss has made us stronger. Now, you will help make us stronger."

The redneck growled at the woman's statement, he could only imagine that she must be crazy, but why would the guards obey a crazy woman?

"You have been given a very special honor," Mary explained, pulling a knife out of the basket, "You have been chosen to help complete the requirements for the Ceremony."

Daryl didn't like the sound of that at all, he pulled against the bonds that tied his wrists together, but they were firm. The woman stepped closer to him.

"Untie him," she ordered. When the guards hesitated, Mary smiled.

"I see," she said, "precautionary measures must be taken."

Putting the knife down, Mary pulled out a small vial full of a clear liquid. The woman twisted the stopper off and held it out to one of her guards. The man took it and then grabbed Daryl's face. The redneck tried to pull away, but a blow landed on the back of his head, dazing him. In an instant, his nose was pinched closed and a horrible liquid forced into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but his lungs were burning for air. Sputtering, Daryl ingested some of the liquid, which burned like a fire down his throat.

The hands holding him disappeared and Daryl fell to the ground choking. Slowly his breath cleared, but he felt too groggy to get up. The redneck could feel his hands being untied, but he couldn't lift them to fight. His vision began blinking in and out. Mary stood over him with a sharp knife in one hand and a book in the other. Sometimes there was only one of her and sometimes there was two. Then, she turned into Beth. Beth's laughter filled the air and seemed to float around the room.

Daryl tried to get up, Beth was somewhere nearby and he needed to find her, but his body wouldn't move. Then, a voice cut through the laughter, causing it to disappear completely.

"The blood of a strong enemy, which will be mixed with our blood, making us stronger," read Mary. Suddenly, a cold steel cut across Daryl's hand. He gasped in shock as the blade cut deeper.

"Here," ordered Mary, "catch his blood in the bowl."

The guards picked up Daryl's wounded hand and squeezed it, causing more blood to drip out. The redneck tried to focus on what was happening, but his brain was getting fuzzy. Suddenly, a beaten-up tabby cat appeared beside him. The cat was gray with white streaks and a part of its ear was missing. The cat turned around and looked at Daryl with light brown eyes, the exact same color as Joe's eyes. Then, the cat leaped into the air, disappearing mid-jump.

Daryl blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of the images before him. A coldness took over his body as the warmth flowed out of his hand. Then, darkness overtook him and Daryl passed out.

Beth's POV

Beth stared at the wall while a woman ran a brush through her hair.

"Tonight is your big night," Mary said with excitement.

"Yay," Beth replied unenthusiastically.

"All done," the woman replied, putting the brush down.

"Thank you, you can go back," Mary told the stranger.

Butterflies tickled Beth's stomach, after all the boredom of being stuck in a room, the time had come. She wondered if she would see Maggie before the Ceremony happened. However, she also didn't want her sister to witness whatever fate awaited her.

"Alright Beth, go put on the dress," Mary ordered.

Beth nodded, feeling defeated. She knew that refusing would only cause Mitch to come in and hold a gun to her head until she did as she was asked. Picking up the beautiful garment, Beth made her way to the bathroom on shaky feet. Taking as long as possible, she changed into what might be her funeral clothes. The blonde had considered the possibility that she might die, she didn't understand why or how, but knew it was very likely. Smoothing out the folds in the dress, Beth put her hand on the door. There was no lock to the bathroom, probably to keep her from locking herself in. The young girl turned the knob as if she were already being given her death sentence. She walked out of the bathroom and over to Mary, who beamed at the sight of her.

"Perfect, you are just perfect," Mary complimented.

Beth didn't reply, there was no point. Instead, she stood there like a dress up doll, waiting for her owner to give the next command.

"Alright, Mitch," Mary said, "I have to go make a few last minute preparations and gather everyone. Keep an eye on her until I get back."

Mitch nodded silently as Mary left the room. Beth's hand made its way to her heart necklace, clutching it tightly for comfort. A knock came from the door, causing Beth's heart to stop. Things were moving quicker than she had thought they would. However, it wasn't Mary but Gareth.

"Can I have a moment," Gareth asked, indicating that Mitch step out.

"Mary gave me strict orders to watch her," Mitch replied hesitantly.

"I see," Gareth said in a deadly calm tone, "well now I am giving you new ones, out now!"

The guard left, leaving the two of them alone.

Gareth walked over to Beth and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry this has to happen," he apologized, his eyes showing genuine regret.

"Why does it have to happen," Beth pleaded, looking up at the leader.

"It just does," Gareth replied harshly, but then his tone softened, "Look, I just want to make it clear to you, we don't do this because we want to. It's important to me that you know that. What we have done to some people, we did because of necessity, because we had no other option. Mary seems to think that this Ceremony is necessary to give the people of Terminus a sense of strength, a reason to carry on. No one in this world is innocent anymore, so what we do to them doesn't matter. If it was the other way around, people would be hurting us, so we hurt them first."

"No," Beth said quietly, "You think there isn't a choice, but I am sure that there is. And yes, you may have been hurt, but that doesn't mean that every person is out to hurt you. It doesn't mean you have to hurt others. There are still good people."

Gareth stared at Beth as she tried to will him to believe in what she said. If there was any hope of escaping her fate, it was at this moment, by convincing the leader of Terminus of the same thing that she had convinced Daryl. Beth felt like she was just about to reach through to him when the door slammed open and Mary stood in the doorway.

"It's time," she announced and Gareth didn't say a word otherwise.

Two strangers came in and took Beth by the arms. She struggled more out of instinct than any real expectation of escape.

"What is this," Mary asked, catching sight of Beth's necklace, "we can't have you wearing anything but what is required for the ceremony."

In a swift motion, Mary yanked the necklace from Beth's neck, causing the chain to break.

"NOOO," Beth yelled, as Mary tossed her mother's precious gift onto a nearby chair, "that was from my mother, give it BACK!"

The blonde continued yelling as she was hauled out of the room. She had promised herself that she would be strong and calm in her last moments, but the suddenly disappearance of her last comfort cracked that façade. Tears streamed down her face and she called one last time to Gareth, who just stared as she was dragged down the hall towards her fate.

Well that is it for this week. I hope to have the next chapter out next weekend, but I will be traveling and don't know if I will have an internet connection, but I will get it out as soon as possible. I know I was a bit dramatic with this chapter, especially having Daryl's blood drawn. While writing that scene, I kept envisioning the part in Harry Potter where Wormtail cuts Harry's hand and says "blood of the enemy, forcibly taken" and that was my inspiration for this chapter. A thanks to all my readers for your support, your kind words and critiques keep me motivated to continue the story.