Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

THANK YOU TO Nicole137137 for taking the time to send me edits for this chapter! You're awesome!

...

Beth squinted. Her eyes were so tired. She fought against the double vision creeping in from overuse; forcing herself to stay focused in the dark environment. Everyone else was either asleep or resting their eyes. Daryl was still stabbing away at the floorboard, Rick keeping him company.

Beth rubbed her eyes. Her head was beginning to throb either from the strain she was putting on her sight or the concussion making its presence known, that it wasn't gone and therefore couldn't allow her a moment of respite.

"Motherfucker, how much longer is this gonna' take," Daryl hissed through grit teeth.

"You're almost through," Rick replied in a quiet tone, "You see anything Beth?"

Beth shook her head, but then realized they might not be able to see her in the dark, "No."

Daryl's stamina was waning. The rhythm of his movements had slowed, become inconsistent, and Beth knew that if he didn't get the last bit of wood cut away soon, someone was going to have to take over for him.

"You alright?" Rick asked in her direction.

Beth wasn't sure if he could see her or not. She assumed he could view her more easily than she could them, only being able to make out their outline in the dark, with glimpses of their faces from the streaming moonlight that filtered in through the cracks. Where she stood, at the boxcar's door, there was a decent amount of moonlight illuminating her.

"Mm hmm," Beth half-heartedly hummed. When she realized Daryl had stopped carving away at the floor and was looking at her she amended her reply, "I'm fine."

The hacking resumed and Beth fought with her restlessness. She knew it was impractical, no impossible, to take Terminus on her own, but that didn't stop her mind from wondering. She had already played over a hundred different scenarios of how she would attempt to save the poor souls trapped in the rail cars they had come across earlier. Each of them ended with her becoming a martyr and dying or her becoming superhuman and leveling the place. Neither endings were realistic, but each gave her mind solace while she waited for Daryl to finish with the floorboard.

Daryl fell back, landing unceremoniously in a heap, flat on his back. Beth jumped at the sudden movement then panicked when Daryl didn't move.

"He's through," Rick answered Beth's unvoiced concerns.

"Really?" Beth perked up, pushing off from where she had been leaning to peek out of the doorway.

"Really," Daryl echoed wearily.

Beth took one last scan through the gap of the door. Satisfied that no one was coming she rushed over to where Daryl lay on the wooden floor. Rick was rousing everyone from their sleep and Beth took the opportunity to marvel at the work put into getting the floorboard off. There were chips of corroded wood everywhere, dust that had long since filled the air when they began putting their escape plan in motion now started to settle back on the floor, and Beth looked to Abraham, Rick, Bob, and Daryl with a new sense of appreciation.

"You did good," Beth reached down and ruffled Daryl's sweat drenched hair.

"I ain't no pet," breathing heavily, Daryl swatted her hand away; his forearm hiding most of his face from where he covered his eyes.

Beth smiled, knowing Daryl was embarrassed by the praise, "Think we'll run into trouble outside the fence?"

"I'd imagine they got patrols goin'. Can't be more than ah' few," Daryl peeked at her from under his arm, "We'll be alright."

"Guess we'll find out," Beth sighed.

"Alright," Rick announced to everyone as they gathered around, "this is going to take everyone's help. We've got one board pliable. Once we manage to get it up, we can focus on the others."

"Just tell us what we need to do," Glenn volunteered.

"Tara's got a hurt ankle so she can take over lookout for Beth. Beth-"

"I'm fine," she interrupted Rick.

"Beth, you've got a concussion," Maggie broached.

"I said I'm fine. I need to help…I am going to help," Beth was resolute.

Rick gave her a nod of acknowledgement, "Then it'll work like this. Michonne will get her sheath under the board and lift. Daryl, Glenn, an' myself will pry up the board. Abraham, Eugene, and Bob get on the backside and start helping us pull up as soon as we get it goin'. Maggie, Rosita, Beth, Carl, and Sasha; you guys stand side by side a few feet down the board to help keep it in place. Your weight should be enough to act as ah' counterweight. That way we won't end up having to pull up the whole board. With enough force and with how weak the wood is here at the end, we should be able to get at least three boards up. Once the first one's up, we'll have room to break the others away from the bolts without usin' the knife."

The plan was sound. Beth knew this would work. It had to work. Everyone else seemed to be in agreement as well.

"Alright. Everybody ready?" Rick looked around.

Tara, still having a slight limp, took her place at the door. Beth moved to stand between Sasha and Rosita. Michonne was already working to wedge her leather sheath in between the boards. Beth watched expectantly as Michonne got it into position. After a couple of pushes on the sheath, the leather itself bending under the force Michonne was exerting, Beth realized their first flaw.

"I can't get enough leverage. The wood here at the edge is rotted, but the rest of it is still in decent condition," Michonne sighed in frustration.

"Damn," Rick cursed, "Okay. Everyone step off. See if that allows you more give."

Michonne tried again, but the board only lifted a few inches from the iron beam it had been bolted to. Daryl stepped forward, trying to get his hands under the board. Beth assessed her hands, looking between the opening and at the size of her fingers, before nudging Daryl to move out of her way.

"My hands are smaller," she explained as she took the same position Daryl had just been in.

Her petite, strong hands, thanks to her trusty crossbow, wiggled into the space that Michonne's sheath allowed on either side of the board. She squatted down and took a deep breath. Then, using her legs to lift, she pulled as if she were nocking her crossbow. She managed to lift the board enough that the sheath was no longer necessary.

While she had pried the board up a small margin, she had exhausted all of her strength. She could hold her ground, but she wouldn't be able to lift it any higher. Her head was beginning to throb in full force from her exertion while her sides ached from the tension. Just as she felt her body starting to give out on her, she felt a strong, sturdy warmth envelope her.

Daryl had reached around her, lacing his fingers in between hers, around the board. His chest flush against her back and cheek hovering inches from her own, she heard the board creak as they lifted it even higher. Rick and Bob soon found a place to grab as well.

"Tryin'ah give yourself an aneurysm?" Daryl groaned in her ear as he struggled to lift the board.

Beth felt a sort of…strange sensation from the vibration of Daryl's voice against her back as his words filled her ear. His breath was warm against her cheek and the only feeling that kept her from getting lost in this new euphoria was the pain in her hands as Daryl's crushed hers into the wooden plank.

"I got it started didn't I?" Beth huffed.

"Stubborn ass," Daryl exhaled amusedly.

"Between you and Maggie, I had no hope to be otherwise," Beth smiled despite her discomfort.

Michonne stepped around Rick and squeezed under the bowing wood to brace herself against the wall. Glenn followed suit and found a handle at the end of the beam to help Michonne support the weight. The wood protested, creaking loudly, but it wouldn't splinter.

"Abraham," Rick called out, "Kick the board where it's bowin' up."

"You guys got a good hold?" Abraham asked before motioning to Maggie, Sasha, Rosita, and Carl to once again step off the board.

"As good as we're gonna' get," Daryl answered through clenched teeth.

"Alright. Here goes…" Abraham stated as he inspected the most appropriate place to kick.

Beth tightened her grip, readying herself for the jarring force Abraham would inflict. When the blow finally came, Beth bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out. The wood around Beth's hands went from a white-gray to a rusted color. Her hands ached, a sharp pain emanating from her palms, but she refused to move until the board broke.

She felt Daryl drop his forehead to her shoulder. She could see his arms shaking from exhaustion. The hour or so he spent chiseling away at the wood had sapped most of this upper body strength. Hardening her resolve, Beth focused on holding onto the board. As long as Daryl held on, so would she.

By the fifth kick, Abraham successfully caused the board to splinter. The lack of resistance caused them to stumble in place. Everyone froze, listening intently for any signs that their ruckus had been heard by anyone nearby. When roughly five minutes had passed and no one had come to check on them, smiles covered everyone's faces. Daryl removed his hands from the detached wood, allowing Beth to do the same, and Bob took it from them to place in the corner of the rail car.

"What tha'…shit," Daryl looked at the blood covering his fingers to Beth's hands, "Why didn't you say somethin'?"

Beth couldn't open her hands. They were locked in the position they'd been in while she had held the board up. There was a sort of burn mark in her palm from where the floorboard had rubbed the skin off with each jarring kick Abraham had landed.

"It's not that bad," Beth tried to open and close her hands a bit, scrunching her face to keep from voicing her pain, and looking to see if Rick or anyone else had burns.

"It's 'cause I held yer' hands in place," Daryl stated quietly. He then pulled a red rag out of his back pocket. She watched him curiously while he bent down and scooped up the water bottle they had been sharing. He poured some water onto the rag and held it out to her.

"To clean 'em up," he explained.

"Thanks," she took the rag, glancing up to give him a shy grin. Daryl gave her a shrug and went back to help with the next board.

Rick and Abraham began stamping their feet on the weakest part of the second board, forcing the wood to split from the bolts. Maggie and Sasha stepped in and the group repeated the same process to break the second board, creating a decent sized hole in the floor.

"I can fit through," Michonne announced, "I'll go ahead and scout the fence line while you guys get the last board up."

"You be careful," Rick leaned forward and spoke in a serious tone.

"If you recall, I tend to work better alone," Michonne brushed off Rick's concern.

"Michonne," Carl caught her attention before she jumped to the ground, "don't take too long."

"I'll make you a bet," Michonne smirked, "I make it back in less than ten minutes; I get our last Cruncho bar. If not, it's all yours. No sharing this time."

"You better get goin' then. I'm already counting," Carl smiled in return.

Beth wasn't exactly sure what the exchange meant, but she had taken notice as to how close Rick, Michonne, and Carl had become. They were an unorthodox trio, but Beth was happy they had each other. Family was a rare commodity nowadays.

Michonne ducked down through the floor, silently landing on the ground, before disappearing from their sight. Rick and the rest began working on the last board, but all Beth could do was listen for signs that Michonne had run into trouble. She didn't have her sword and while Beth didn't doubt her abilities, Michonne against several men with guns didn't present the greatest odds.

"We all have jobs to do…"

She had said those words to Maggie during the epidemic and then Maggie had repeated them to her in front of the bus when the prison was under attack. This was Michonne's job. Beth would have to trust that Michonne could handle herself.

…

"…fifty-six…fifty-seven…fifty-eight…fifty-nine…sixty."

Beth had counted to sixty at least fifteen times. Though she couldn't be sure whether she was counting too fast or too slow in her anxiety ridden state, she knew Michonne had been gone over ten minutes. They had managed to get the third board off, making sure Eugene fit through in case they needed to take off a fourth, and then Beth began counting.

"She's been gone too long," Carl muttered from where he paced back and forth.

"Tara, any sign that someone was alerted by the fence?" Sasha asked.

"Don't think so. Can't see anyone. It's quiet," Tara shook her head, but didn't take her eyes off the space in the doorway.

"We'll give her five more minutes. If she hasn't shown up by then, we'll send someone out to see if she ran into trouble," Rick looked to each member of their group.

"If she's in trouble, five minutes could be too late," Carl rounded on Rick.

"Carl, Michonne has been in tighter situations than this. She'll be fine," Rick sounded more like he was convincing himself than consoling his son.

"Someone talkin' about me?" A voice came from under the boxcar.

Beth heaved a sigh of relief. Michonne looked a little rumbled, some grass sticking to her back and in her hair, but she was otherwise unscathed. Rick helped her back into the car and Beth realized Michonne wasn't without a weapon.

"Where'd ya' find that?" Rick inquired with a pleased smile.

"I borrowed it from the guy patrolling the fence line. He's got a buddy a couple of yards down. That'll give us two extra guns on top of what you have buried," Michonne replied, examining the automatic weapon slung across her chest.

"What happened to the guy you took the gun from?" Abraham asked what Beth had been thinking.

"I tied him to a tree. As long as walkers don't get him, we should be able to get intel on where they took our stuff," Michonne answered pointedly.

It was then that Beth realized Michonne's belt was missing. At least someone else found good use for the accessory.

"So minus the other guy behind the fence, we're good?" Rosita ask, standing next to Abraham.

"Yes," Michonne nodded, "We'll go in groups of two. We'll draw less attention that way and have someone to watch our backs. I'll go first, make sure it's still clear, and signal for the first group to run."

"Alright. Everyone grab a partner. We're gettin' outta' here," Rick rested his hand on Carl's shoulder.

Relief filled their confined space. As long as no one approached the boxcar in the next ten to fifteen minutes, they'd be golden. Beth glanced around as everyone migrated to their partner. Michonne had already jumped out of the car, not waiting around to see who paired off with whom.

"Eugene is the most important person to mankind's survival. I've made it my life's mission to ensure he is safely delivered to Washington. So I'm gonna' have to ask that we go first. He has to escape or all hopes of findin' a cure for this damned apocalypse will be lost," Abraham announced.

Beth wasn't sure what the deal with Eugene was, but she found the idea of there being a cure comical. She wanted to believe that someday, in the future, a cure would be found. However, scientists and biochemists would have needed to survive the breakout in order for that to be possible. So maybe Eugene was some sort of scientist? He'd sounded smart when he spoke, very educated, and he had the whole awkward social interaction down perfectly.

"Go on ahead," Glenn motioned with his hand.

Glenn stood next to Maggie. Beth had already paired them together in her head, but the way Glenn was glancing over to Tara made her question whether they'd actually end up running together. Tara had a hurt ankle and Beth wasn't sure she'd be able to scale the fence without help.

Eugene squeezed through the boards, Abraham doing the same, and it was only a moment before their clunky footsteps through the gravel announced their departure. Glenn then whispered something to Maggie, who looked at him thoughtfully, before nodding.

Glenn approached Tara, who was still keeping watch, and Beth barely caught their quiet conversation, "You want me to go with you? Help you get over the fence?"

"No way. We went through hell to make sure you found your wife…found Maggie. You two go together," Tara looked at Glenn as if he'd lost his mind.

"I'll go with her," Rosita moved to stand beside Tara, "I'll make sure she gets over."

"You sure?" Glenn glanced between the two girls.

"Positive," Rosita nudged Tara, earning a huge smile from the girl they were both fussing over.

Glenn nodded and went back to Maggie. Maggie rose on her toes and planted a quick kiss on Glenn's cheek. They exchanged a look, both smiling, and then clasped hands. Beth felt a twinge of happiness and sadness all at the same time.

"Beth, you want me to go with you?" Maggie asked her across the opening in the floor.

"I got'er," Daryl answered.

Beth hadn't even heard him move to stand behind her. It wasn't until he spoke that she felt his presence radiating on her back.

"Alright then. We'll go next," Sasha looked to Bob.

"After you," Bob made a gesture with his arms for Sasha to exit first.

Maggie and Glenn followed after, Glenn insisting they go before Tara and Rosita just in case Tara needed extra help getting over the fence. That left Rick, Carl, Daryl, and herself.

"You two go on ahead," Daryl spoke to Rick, "We'll bring up the rear."

"You guys be careful," Beth implored.

"Same to you," Carl replied with equal sincerity, and then they ducked down into the hole.

Beth felt Daryl place his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the opening. As quietly as possible she hopped down onto the gravel, sliding over so that Daryl could follow behind her. They could see Rick and Carl running a few feet ahead and Beth's stomach twisted into knots.

"You run to that fence and don't stop for nothin'. I'll be right behind ya' the whole way," Daryl ordered.

Beth nodded. She didn't trust her voice to reply. Rick and Carl were now scaling the fence and soon their figures disappeared completely; safe behind the cover of the woods.

"I'll be right behind ya'," Daryl repeated.

They waited a few seconds, listening in case anyone had seen Rick and Carl, and then Daryl told her to run. So she did. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She was tired, weak, sore, and scared. She felt an invisible monster chasing her, closing in on her, and it made her run that much harder.

She barreled into the fence, not slowing down, and risked a glance beside her. Daryl had just reached the fence and the two of them climbed over. She ignored the pain in her palms as the metal dug into her tender skin. When she was close enough to the ground on the other side, she jumped, waiting for Daryl, before they took off further into the woods to meet up with everyone else.

As soon as Maggie was within sight, Beth knew they had made it. They were all safe. They had escaped without incident and they were all okay.

"We're all here then," Rick sighed with relief.

Beth bent over to place her raw hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her blond, messy hair, spilled around her, creating a sort of curtain. Feeling concealed behind her hair and in the cover of darkness, Beth let a few tears slip from her eyes. The overwhelming feeling from their liberation and immense joy of escaping unscathed was too much for Beth to push down.

Wiping her eyes under the guise of wiping the sweat from her face, Beth righted herself. She could feel Daryl's eyes on her, but refused to look at him. If she did she was afraid he would see the emotions she was trying to hide. Instead she moved towards everyone huddled around Rick and readied herself for whatever they decided to do next.

Beth noticed that Abraham now had a gun similar to Michonne's. Beth assumed that he and Michonne must have taken it upon themselves to relieve the second guard of his weapon while everyone else was fleeing the rail car.

"So what's the plan?" Glenn quietly spoke.

"They don't know we've escaped yet. When they do, they'll probably scour the woods. I don't know that they'll put much effort into trying t'find us, but we can't stay here just in case," Rick replied solemnly.

"So we're just gonna' run? What about all those people?" Sasha's voice filled with disbelief.

"We can't do anything while they've got their guard up," Rick quickly answered.

"So what? We go back up the track a ways. Warn people off? Wait a few days?" Bob inquired.

"That's exactly what we do. We wait until they think we've made a run for it. We'll find a decent spot to make camp, take the guy Michonne secured, and find out as much as we can from 'em. We'll come up with a plan and we'll get those people out," Rick declared.

"Sounds good t'me," Daryl agreed.

"I see no problems," Bob nodded, agreeing more for Sasha's sake than his own.

"Then it's decided," Glenn stood, wrapping an arm around Maggie.

"I'll dig up the guns I buried and we'll get on our way. Don't wanna' stay here too long," Rick dusted the dirt from his jeans and moved to the freshly covered dirt mound hiding their weapons.

"I'll take Mr. Unconscious," Daryl stated as he walked to the tree Michonne had tied the stranger to.

"I'll help," Glenn went with Daryl.

Beth suddenly felt a wave of nausea. Her head throbbed horribly. The exertion after having only a little bread and a few sips of water did nothing to aid the effects of her concussion. She must have looked ill because Maggie grabbed her hand.

"Beth…you alright?" Her sister's voice wavered.

"Yeah," Beth took a deep breath, "Just a little dizzy."

"We're all dehydrated. With some water and rest everyone should feel better," Bob said while assessing her.

Beth nodded, squeezing Maggie's hand, and released their grasp.

"Everyone ready?" Rick asked while tossing the bag of guns over his shoulder.

Daryl and Glenn had unstrapped the man from the tree and each of them had an arm over their shoulder. She knew they couldn't risk waking the man, as he could have easily began screaming bloody murder and gave them all away, but Beth didn't like Daryl making himself so vulnerable to the man's grasp. Daryl had a firm hold of the man's wrist, but there were other parts of the body that could inflict damage.

"We're ready," Glenn replied.

"Alright," Rick turned his back to everyone, "let's go."

…

Beth followed closely beside Maggie, lost in her own thoughts, at the end of their troop. Daryl and Glenn were closer to the front, in between Rick and Michonne. Carl was talking quietly with Sasha and Bob. Tara followed awkwardly in the middle next to Rosita, Eugene, and Abraham.

"You wanna' tell me what you're thinkin' about?" Maggie broke through her thoughts.

Beth cast her eyes over their group. She wasn't really sure what she was thinking about specifically. She was working through the array of emotions she had felt the past hour or so. Thinking about how far she had come from her days at the prison. Thinking about Judith. How she hoped that whatever had happened to her, that it had been quick. She couldn't bear the thought of her sweet Jude suffering. She wanted to believe others had made it, but even if they had, she knew they'd probably never see them again.

"Just thinkin'," Beth replied.

Maggie stayed quiet for a while. Beth knew she had more to say, she could feel Maggie working over how to word whatever her real concerns were. Maggie wasn't one to let things go unsaid and her question had been an ice breaker.

"You've changed…so much. I'm finding it a lil' hard to recognize you," Maggie turned her head to give Beth an unsure smile.

"How so?" Beth was genuinely curious.

"It's hard t'say. You don't seem as…fragile," Maggie answered honestly.

"Is that supposed to be a nice way of saying I was weak before?" Beth cut her eyes to Maggie in annoyance.

"You've never been weak. I jus' mean that you're more confident in yourself. Like you've figured yourself out. Doesn't seem forced like when we were at the prison," Maggie mulled over her explanation, "It's like you've finally grown into your own. That make sense?"

Beth smiled, "Yeah. I had to do some growing up when I was alone."

Maggie glanced at her, "You've always been stubborn, opinionated, strong-willed-"

"I got it Mags," Beth interrupted.

Maggie smiled, laughing softly, "I just mean…you've always been strong Beth. Only a strong person would have lasted as long as we have."

"Yeah," Beth agreed.

"You're not a little girl anymore," Maggie finally articulated her thoughts, "I don't see the little sister I was separated from at tha' prison. I see a grown woman who can take care of herself."

Beth didn't reply. Doing so would have tarnished the moment. To hear Maggie acknowledge that she no longer viewed Beth as someone who needed protecting, someone who couldn't contribute, meant more than Beth had envisioned. She'd always been treated like glass and it was thanks to Daryl that she'd been able to grow out of that stigma.

"I owe Daryl more than I can ever repay," Maggie whispered softly.

"Me too," Beth replied, staring at the set of angel wings in front of her.

He must have felt her eyes on him because it was at that exact moment that Daryl chose to glance over his shoulder at her. She gave him a smile and his eyes travelled from hers, down to her lips, before turning his attention back to the front.

"Things aren't ever going to be the same…are they?" Maggie's weary question made Beth look away from Daryl's leather vest.

"No…no they're not," Beth shook her head.

Beth herself wasn't sure if she was talking about the world in general or her immediate vicinity. All Beth knew, in that moment, was that she needed rest, water, and she wanted her crossbow back. She felt naked without it. The most pertinent issue on Beth's mind was those helpless people still trapped in Terminus. She felt guilty leaving like they were, but knew they wouldn't be able to help without having the element of surprise on their side.

In a few days' time they would have the information they needed, a plan to follow, and they would bring down the sick community that was Terminus. Beth just needed a little time to recuperate and she would be ready to go.

She furrowed her brows and said a silent prayer to the people trapped in the boxcars.

"Just hang on…we're coming."