Author's Note: And... I'm back.

I know, I know. There are no good enough excuses for my long absence. My life is simply too busy, that's it. But I promise to try and do better, just don't kill me.

I want you guys to know that I'm not abandoning this story, ever. This is my baby, and I'll finish it, it just might take a little while.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews, you are amazing.

Trigger Warning: Mention of torture. (No rape)

Disclaimer: I don't own TWD. Life is just unfair, I know.

How many days must one spend in a room before he/she became strangely familiar with it?

Beth knew the answer to that question by now.

Two weeks.

That was all it took for her to know every little detail about the space she was occupying.

The room had a graded window, an unused table, a chair — to which she was tied — and a bucket. That's all. Beth would know.

After all, she spent the past two weeks in that old, smelly room. Never leaving it, only sitting there, in a very uncomfortable chair, waiting for Jonathan to come back every day.

By now, she was familiar with the 157 bricks covering the left wall, the small spider on the bottom corner of the said wall, the crack on the floor by the door... She knew it all.

She also gained, in those two weeks, a whole new body awareness. All her muscles and bones that she somehow skillfully ignored all her life — like most people — were making themselves known in the worst way possible.

Every inch of her not bleeding was aching.

Never in her life had she needed God more, but paradoxically, Beth never felt more skeptical. If her father heard half of the thoughts running through her mind lately, he would be horrified. But, such was life. If God were real, he wouldn't have allowed things to go the way they did. No dead would be rising; no unnecessary deaths would be happening, no kidnapping and torture every day...

The reality was the room Beth was occupying on the fourth floor of an old building. The real world was Georgia, infested with people trying to kill each other — dead or living.

Beth hated the real world. She hated that Merle was being kept in a place far away from her, probably being tortured as well. She hated that Daryl was dead. She hated that she wasn't capable of being strong.

Life was unfair, and Beth had a lot of time to come to terms with it. She accepted the truth now, and that made all the difference.

She had been lying to herself all the time, since her mother's and Shawn's death. Beth clung to the past like a child clings to a stuffed animal, not really accepting the facts that were happening, only reacting to the actions around her. Not actively adapting.

Beth lived a pretty lie and paid the price for it — was still paying at all seconds in that room.

Daryl's death was a constant proof of her naivety. No wonder he had always hated her. He must have sensed her weakness, her illusions. He probably knew she would only be a liability and he had been right.

Merle tried to shape her into someone worth living, someone who could survive and help them. And she repaid him how? By getting his brother killed and by sentencing him to a long, terrible death. And she never even thanked them for saving her life.

Now, as a punishment, she was tied to a chair. Her constantly bruised body proved that she was paying for it.

The sun was almost gone, she noted. Almost time for Jonathan's visits, if one could call his time with her a visit. She wondered what was going to happen this time, would he be angry, finally?

Every day was the same, in a way. Every day Beth woke up knowing that she wasn't going to make it, that that would be the day her body was going to crumble under pressure. Every new day was her last.

However, she was still breathing. Somehow she survived. When was this going to end?

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by Jonathan's arrival. He entered the room like he always did, smiling. He was always happy, no matter what. She screamed, tried to hit him, cursed his existence... Beth tried it all.

But no, his ridiculous smile remained there, taunting her with its permanence. And she hated it — hated him — with all she had. Beth never imagined she could hate a person so much. She wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for all he'd done... She wanted to kill him with her bare hands and watch as his blood left his miserable body.

Jonathan took his gun and knife out and softly put them on the table. Beth didn't know if he did that to make her fear her possible death or to taunt her with the sweet possibility of his.

"Lovely Beth, how are you on this fine day?" He asked, knowing she could never answer.

The real problem of the apocalypse, Beth realized, wasn't the walkers, it was the people. It was what individuals were led to do when pushed to their limits. The question that plagued all of them: What were you willing to do to save yourself and those you love?

Beth never thought about it before; she never had to. And if a month ago someone asked her that, she was sure her answer would be vastly different. Pain changes you in a way nothing else can.

So Beth just sat there, planning a thousand ways to kill him.

XxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXx

When it came, it wasn't like in the movies; there were no explosions, no gunshots, no desperate screams. In fact, Beth didn't realize anything was happening, and, thankfully, neither did Jonathan. He was still going on and on about how great he was and how lucky she was to have him. She stopped paying attention to his monologs after the first five days, honestly.

Beth was sitting, face inevitably turning purple from the last slap he delivered to her face, wondering when Jonathan was going to shut up. He said it was to make her understand how much he was willing to teach her. Beth was still uncertain of what he meant by that. However, Jonathan was a very disturbed human being, so she considered her ignorance of his mind a small blessing.

But the point was, she heard nothing. She was trying to ignore the reality until people started running. People were running on the stairs. And then she heard it, Merle's voice! There was no mistaking it; he was escaping.

Beth hadn't realized how much the thought of being alone terrified her, until that moment. No matter where he was, knowing that Merle was alive and in the same building as she was, kept her sane. Even if he hated her, even if he wanted to kill her himself, she wanted to be near him, not with these disgusting men. Dying somewhere far away from this building would be better than staying where she was.

She needed a plan, fast. Beth was lucky, in his confidence Jonathan got careless. He hadn't checked the rope on her wrists since he tied her up. Every day she managed to tear it a little bit, and it was almost loose. If she put enough force behind it, she could snap it with a single push. It would hurt, but she was beyond caring about pain. She needed to find Merle before he got away.

Jonathan turned to look out the window to see what was happening and it was the chance she had been waiting. She snapped her hands-free, putting all her remaining force behind the movement, and reached forward to grab the gun in front of her. Without hesitation, she turned to him and fired. It was impossible to miss it, being as close as she was, and she didn't.

She could see his surprised face as he turned to face her, trying to grab the gun out of her hands even after being shot. His other hand came to his chest, pressing the wound there. He growled, angry and in pain. Beth didn't care, she felt a numbness spreading all through her body, leaving her feeling nothing but determination. She needed to kill Jonathan to escape and she wouldn't fail this time.

Beth shot him in the chest time after time until there weren't any bullets left. Jonathan fell on the floor, bleeding from seven different places at the same time. He wasn't going to recover from that, ever, and if that made Beth that much happier, so be it.

There was no time to feel relieved for the end of her imprisonment or avenged by his death. The satisfaction was there, dark and terrible, but it would have to be revisited later.

She quickly took the knife on top of the table and ran, going after the voices she was hearing. Merle screamed something and footsteps echoed from the stairway — two sets of legs. There was someone following Merle! She positioned herself right next to the end of the stairs, waiting. She would surprise whoever was following Merle and kill him, although she was intrigued by Merle's lack of action.

The adrenaline was rushing through her veins, her heart beating fast, her palms sweaty. She was finally going to be free of this nightmare.

The rushed steps were getting closer; they were almost there. Beth was ready, the knife firm in her hand. Suddenly Merle was right in front of her, but there was no time to be happy or relieved because the second man came right after him. He was wearing all black and held a crossbow in his hands, looking sharp as ever.

A crossbow. A very familiar crossbow.

The knife fell from her hands at the same time she took a step back.

"Daryl?" She whispered, incredulously.

He turned to her and Beth could see his face clearly, it was Daryl. She saw him, but couldn't believe what her eyes were showing her. Daryl was dead; she had seen him die, right in front of her.

"Beth, are you okay? We have to go, can you walk?" Merle was speaking fast, and all she could do was nod. Yes, she could walk.

"Are you really alive?" Beth asked Daryl, reaching out to touch the body in front of her. Maybe she was hallucinating, maybe she died.

"Yes, I'm alive. However, if we don't run now, we soon won't be," He reassured her and pushed her forward.

"Wait! This way is the roof, how are we going to escape?" She hoped they had a better plan other than jumping. Maybe they had some crazy parkour tricks, but she sure as hell didn't.

They didn't answer her, just opened the door and showed her the great escape plan they had.

"Are you kidding? We'll fall and die!" Okay, so maybe it was better to die here than with Jonathan, but still... It was some big fall from the roof to the floor.

The slim wood that connected where they were to the next building didn't look like it would hold her weight. Not at all.

"Just go, dammit," Daryl was bruised, covered in blood and limping from his left leg, but it was so fucking good to see him. Beth couldn't hold herself back, she reached forward and hugged him.

"I thought you were dead," She whispered.

He didn't hug her back, but Daryl didn't pull back from her, and that was enough.

The emotional moment was cut short by Merle. He grabbed her and pushed her to the wood on the edge of the roof.

"Walk, kiddo; we have to go." He went after her, keeping her from going back. Which was ridiculous and unnecessary, Beth wouldn't go back. No fucking way.

There were men after them; she could hear the screaming. They needed to run. Beth jumped forward and landed on the concrete. She turned to see Merle breaking the wood in half.

"Let's go, the building is clear. There's a car nearby," Daryl said and went ahead, leading the way. They rushed down the stairs of the building until they reached the kitchen. Daryl opened the door, and they ran towards the trees, gunshots echoing behind them; How close was this car?

Suddenly an old red pickup appeared, parked behind a big tree.

"Get in," Daryl said, reaching inside to grab a gun.

Merle got in the driver's seat, and Beth went in the back. Five men came into view, shooting their way. Daryl shot back.

"Daryl, we need to go!" Merle screamed.

What was Daryl doing? They couldn't wait.

Beth then opened her door and grabbed Daryl, pushing him in. He landed half on the floor of the car and half on the seat, but that was good enough for Beth.

She closed the door and took the gun from Daryl's hand. While Merle drove away, Beth shot the guys she could see. She probably didn't hit any of them, but knowing that she was escaping and shooting their way out was sufficient for her to smile.

Daryl was alive, and she was free, she would worry about anything else later.

AN2: Daryl's alive!

I'm so excited about what's next...