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 Nicole137137 for editing this so quickly for me today!

Sorry for the late night update! Had a busy day today! : )

...

Beth pressed her back further against the trio of metal exhaust pipes on the roof of the building she had hunkered down on. Bullets were flying, people were screaming, and it was utter chaos. She had gotten separated from Daryl in the midst of the fight. They had been providing cover while Rick and the others worked on getting everyone out of the boxcar.

She and Daryl had been crouched on the roof when the first bullets sped past them. She felt herself being shoved to the ground, Daryl yelling at her to find cover, and then shots began firing beside her. In a brief moment of panic she had laid frozen, eyes desperately scanning for Daryl. She spotted him a few feet away, firing the gun he had taken from a deceased Terminus resident. He was attracting their attention, Beth had realized, by propelling her out of sight and opening fire upon the men who had rushed them on the roof.

Another bullet whizzed beside her, penetrating the metal cylinders, and exiting beside her head. Beth's hands instinctively went to shield her head as she ducked her chin into her chest. She had no idea whether everyone was under attack or if they had managed to get the captives out. A more pressing concern was the fact that she couldn't find Daryl in any direction she looked. Most of the men firing had indeed chased after him, but there were still a handful opening fire upon her.

"Get it together Greene," Beth whispered to herself.

She ripped her crossbow off of her shoulders, careful not to expose her arms past the exhaust piping that acted as her shield, and dropped it at her feet in a loud clatter. She then pulled the gun that had been resting against her back around and flicked the safety off with her thumb. Another bullet flew through the metal behind her and Beth winced at how close their aim had been to hitting her. Pulling the bolt back, she loaded a round in the chamber, and gathered the courage to peer around the cylinder to the shooters behind her.

"One…two…three…," Beth counted to herself before forcing her body to do as she commanded.

Two men ducked down behind a vent while a third was standing in the open, but she couldn't risk revealing herself long enough to make sure there weren't more lurking. She pressed herself against the conduit once more, sliding over to examine the other side.

"Come out, come out…we know where you are," one of the men taunted.

"Didn't yer' momma ever teach ya' not t'play with yer' food Jonas?" Another voice jeered.

Beth cringed. Her body ached from the exertion she had put forth in the last several hours, she was mentally and emotionally drained, and she just wanted everything to be done. Taking a deep breath, she peeked around the pipe, counting another man and a woman with their sights trained in her direction. Beth jerked herself away in time for another round of projectiles to fly past her.

"Quit screwin' around over there," the female yelled over the chaos.

Beth heard the men to her left yelling back and knew she had to take the small window of opportunity she had. She double-checked that the safety was off, took a deep breath, and slung herself around the conduits. She fired two short bursts, the first missing the man standing out in the open completely, while the second set of bullets hit him squarely in his bicep. The man was turned, only giving Beth his profile while he yelled at the women across from him, and fell limply to the ground; the bullet having travelled through his arm and exiting out the other side of his torso. Beth's aim wasn't as accurate, not being accustomed to the gun in her hands, but she hoped that she had pierced his heart. Mentally taking note of how off the gun's sights were, Beth took cover, and waited for her next opportunity.

Beth tried to ignore the earsplitting scream that erupted from the woman, but Beth felt it vibrate through her. Then the sounds she heard were reminiscent of rain bouncing off the tin roof of the barn when she would help her father clean the stables. Beth dropped onto her hands and knees, realizing that the four remaining attackers were spraying bullets and praying they hit her.

She could hear gunshots in the distance. She knew that loved ones were beneath her fighting for their lives. She had lost sight of Daryl and was outnumbered. Beth tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. She refused to give up; however, she knew the odds were not in her favor. She was on her own.

Daryl isn't coming.

The phrase echoed in her. Flashes of being locked in the trunk of a black car, fighting for her life on a run gone wrong, and surviving all winter long by herself filtered through her mind. She was on her own and that was okay. She likely wouldn't make it out of this alive, but she had to keep fighting. She couldn't give up. Giving up meant you were dead and Beth was not dead yet.

She crouched down, resting her weight on the ball of her heels, and peered around the metal piping once more. They were still firing bullets at random, aiming higher, where she had been standing. Taking into consideration how off the sights of the gun were, Beth leaned out from behind her shield and fired several quick rounds, taking out the man with a clean shot to the head and wounding the woman. She didn't wait to see how badly injured the woman was before she hid behind the exhaust conduit again to take cover from the remaining gunman.

Pulling the now empty clip from her gun, Beth reloaded the gun and pulled the bolt back to once again load a bullet in the chamber. It had gotten eerily quiet behind her and Beth felt her skin crawl. The chaos reigning on the ground was deafening, but not being able to hear anyone behind her drowned out everything else. She knew there was one more man. She had counted two men on one side as well as a man and woman on the other. She was positive of this.

Easing her way away from the piping, Beth aimed her gun in front of her. She slowly stepped away from her makeshift and battered shield, careful not to trip over her crossbow, with her sights trained forward. Her eyes scanned the rooftop for the fourth man. Two lay dead and the moans of pain from the woman were easily recognizable, but the fourth gunman eluded her.

Movement to her left had her turning and firing before she had time to process her own reaction. Dark burgundy seeped through the man's gray cotton shirt. Three perfect circles formed on his torso and bled into a giant stain that covered his stomach. The man fell to his knees, gun clattering on the concrete roof. Beth wasted no time in checking their clips and relieving them of any spare ammunition.

Now having two full clips in her back pockets, Beth was faced with a dilemma worse than being outnumbered four to one. She had to decide whether to kill these two injured people or leave them. There was a chance that their injuries wouldn't kill them, or not the woman, for she was certain the man had already lost too much blood. The woman had only sustained a gunshot wound that pierced straight through her shoulder.

Beth stood over the man. Blood pooled around him from where he lay on his stomach. She knew it had to be done, she knew she had to kill him, but her hands trembled around the gun she held. Every other life she had ever extinguished had been in an act of self-defense.

"Shoot me," the man wheezed out, "I don't wanna' turn into one of those bastards."

This was murdering an innocent man.

"Hurry and kill me while I'm still me," the man begged.

She was letting yet another person suffer; unable to commit the final act.

"Please," he whispered.

Beth raised her gun and aimed at the man's head. She would not repeat what had happened earlier on the roof with Daryl when she had lost herself in the grief of her actions. This time she would finish what she started.

"Forgive me," Beth whispered and then she pulled the trigger.

This was showing mercy.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Beth closed her eyes and tried to block the sight at her feet from her mind. She'd added yet another person to the list of lives she'd taken. Turning around, she opened her eyes once more, and moved to collect her crossbow. Securing her weapons, she glanced over the edge and felt relief that all of the railcar's doors were now open, but the mass of bodies that littered the ground made the small victory taste bitter. Praying that Maggie, Glenn, and the rest of the group that had been on the ground were safe, she adjusted the strap of her crossbow, and took off in the direction she had last seen Daryl.

…

Several bodies lined the roof, almost creating a trail of breadcrumbs, and she followed them in the hopes that they would lead her to Daryl. After she came across the fourth body, she could hear heavy gunfire, but the various levels of the buildings created walls and barriers that obstructed her sight. She could hear people yelling, their voices becoming more articulate as she crept closer, but she still had not seen anyone.

"Just come out and we'll make this quick!" Beth heard a man yell ahead of her.

She knew right then and there that she had found Daryl. She approached the ledge of the building she was on and looked down. There was an "L" shaped access around the building below here where the third story didn't cover the expanse of the entire roof. Sitting on the ledge, Beth pushed off and landed with a thud on the roof below.

She crept to the end of the brick wall, passing a rusted ladder, and waited. Several shots caused Beth to jump and step back around the wall. Looking around, Beth saw nothing that would help her identify the number of men waiting around the corner. She pressed her lips into a thin line and looped the strap of her gun around her neck, letting the weapon hang loosely against her chest. She then removed her crossbow and nocked one of her two remaining bolts.

Leaning her head back against the brick wall, Beth took a moment to collect herself. Breathing in deeply, she held onto her crossbow as if it were her lifeline. Sadly, from where she stood, her crossbow would in fact be her lifeline. She had the rifle as well, but the moment she fired it, her position would be disclosed.

Then a thought struck her. She snuck away from the edge of the wall and rushed back to the ladder she had passed by. She placed her foot on one of the steps, testing her weight on the rusted metal. Satisfied that it seemed sturdy enough, she grabbed the railing with her free hand and awkwardly climbed up. The ladder creaked and moaned under the stress she applied with each step, but Beth didn't stop. She kept climbing until she reached high enough to peer over the top of the third story roof.

The roof was vacant, but Beth soon understood why. The concrete was cracked and crumbling. Holes big enough for her to fall through were scattered across the surface. Beth let out an exasperated sigh. As if their situation weren't difficult enough, she now had to navigate a minefield.

Easing her way onto the roof, Beth gently placed her feet onto the concrete. Slowly standing, she applied pressure to the rooftop, and tiptoed around any cracks she saw. Ambling carefully to the edge, she could see three men hunkered down behind the building's air conditioning unit. Her eyes continued scanning until she found Daryl.

She couldn't make out his exact condition in the dark, but he didn't look healthy. He was sitting on the ground, slouched against a ventilation duct with his crossbow on the ground and gun in hand, but he wasn't making much effort to move. Beth immediately knew something was wrong. Quickly looking over the roof once more, she drew her crossbow, took a deep breath, and impaled the man farthest from her straight through the head.

Any concerns of killing a human being were forgotten the moment she saw Daryl. He could be bleeding out, dying, and she needed to get to him quickly. It was only when the men began shouting about Beth's bolt sticking out of their friends skull did she see Daryl react. Beth didn't have time to see if he would notice her. She ducked back away from the ledge, reloaded her crossbow, and took aim at whichever man made an easier target. The both of them were rushing over towards their dead comrade. She didn't have a clear shot.

She risked a glance at Daryl, finding him moving, favoring his left side. He was looking for her and she knew he would eventually locate her, the fact that he hadn't already confirmed he wasn't in the best shape, thus she turned her attention back to her two targets. They too were searching the rooftops with their eyes. When her eyes locked with one of the gunmen, Beth fired her last bolt, and bullets soon followed.

She threw herself against the concrete roof, the shots fired at her imbedding into the lip of the brick building. She then crawled away from the edge, knowing she had lost the advantage of being a story above them, and eased herself far enough away to get on her hands and knees. Her crossbow scraped against the roof and she cursed at the noise. The bullets behind her had finally stopped taking chunks out of the brick building, but she had never heard a second set of shots fired. She could only assume that meant that Daryl was out of ammo. Had she been given the chance, she would have thrown him one of the spare clips she had taken, but she couldn't guarantee she would have thrown it far enough to reach him or that he would have been able to get to it if she had.

When she felt a safe distance away from the edge she stood and carefully hopped over the holes in the roof back to the ladder. She didn't bother checking to make sure the area was clear before she began descending the ladder. She knew it would only be a matter of time before the shooter appeared from around the corner and she needed to be on the ground when that happened.

Once her feet hit the ground she pulled her gun and focused on the corner in front of her. She waited. She knew she needed to be moving forward, moving to Daryl, but she knew the moment she started the man would appear and catch her of off-guard. She could do nothing for Daryl if she got herself shot or killed.

Sweat trickled down her brow and into her eye. She blinked several times, but refused to remove her hands from the gun. Her racing heart thrummed in her ears and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She could hear shuffling in front of her and pressed the gun harder to her shoulder. She focused down the sights of the gun, clenching her finger tighter around the trigger.

She was beginning to pull the trigger when a familiar figure rounded the corner. He was drenched in sweat and there was blood covering his left pant leg just above his knee; saturating the material all the way to his boot. He stopped when he saw her and Beth realized his pant leg wasn't the only thing covered in blood. Specks of it dotted his face and various areas of his flannel shirt were adorned with fresh blood.

Beth dropped her gun, looped her crossbow around to her back, and ran to him. The relief she felt seeing him now was so overwhelming that if she had had the energy to cry, she might have. She threw her arms around his neck, her chest heaving in dry sobs, and took comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. Where he would have normally tensed at her physical contact, he was lax, a testament to how tired he truly must have been.

"I told you I'd find ya'," Beth whispered into his neck.

She felt a light pressure on her lower back and smiled. It wasn't a grand gesture, but Daryl was finally returning an embrace. She didn't push the limits, pulling back after a few moments, and squatted down to look at his leg.

"Through and through?" Beth asked as she scrutinized the small hole in his pants over the wound.

"Yeah," Daryl grunted.

Ripping off the already loose material that hung from the hem of her shirt, Beth tied it around his thigh, applying pressure to the wound. She stood, wiping her hands on her shirt to remove the fresh blood from her hands, and turned back to pick up her gun.

"You think you can walk on your own?" Beth inquired over her shoulder.

Daryl didn't dignify her question with a response and instead limped toward her.

"Yeah. That's not gonna' work," Beth sighed at his stubbornness.

Adjusting her crossbow so that it wouldn't catch on his, she situated herself under his left side and looped his arm around her shoulder. Daryl didn't put up a fight and instead leaned his weight against her.

"We should catch up with the others. I've got a few clips of ammo left," Beth stated as they slowly walked to the building's fire escape.

"Sounds like things have quieted down some," Daryl acknowledged from the lack of gunfire in the background.

"They're all fine. They must have taken care of everythin' already. Gotten' things sorted out," Beth tried to cover for the anxiety she felt.

Daryl didn't immediately reply. Beth focused on helping him down the steps, ignoring his curse words, and stabilizing his left side as much as she could. When they finally reached the ground he pulled his arm away from her, shifting his weapons around to his front, and leaned against the wall.

"Beth," Daryl got her attention, "If things ain't right. If it's just me an' you again…"

"They're going to be fine Daryl," Beth didn't let him finish. She refused to think of any alternate explanations as to why things had settled down.

Daryl stared at her and dropped his gaze to his feet. She knew he was right and she knew that he was aware as well, but she had just gotten Maggie back. She couldn't allow herself to think that all of this was for naught.

She heard him moving beside her and looked to make sure he wasn't trying to walk. He was pulling two bolts from his crossbow's quiver and she recognized the neon orange fletching.

"Here," Daryl extended his hand toward her.

Beth took her bolts from his grasp and went about nocking her crossbow. She saw that Daryl had none left for his crossbow and gave one of her bolts back.

"In case you need one," she said flicking her wrist towards him a few times.

Daryl nodded his head once and took the ammunition she offered.

"If…" she began, causing him to look up at her, "If things aren't right. If it's just you and me. We go straight to the Blazer and meet back up with Carol and everyone else there."

The look in Daryl's eyes expressed the understanding that he had tried to get across to her earlier. She didn't want to believe that things could have gone wrong, but she wasn't disillusioned to the reality of their world. They had seen so many of their friends die at the hands of men and walkers alike.

Their goal had been accomplished. They had freed the people held captive in the boxcars. Their secondary objective had been to take Terminus down, to keep them from doing these heinous crimes to other human beings, and she just prayed that even though she and Daryl hadn't been able to provide them with the cover they had needed they had at least kept the gunmen on the roofs from adding to the gunfire.

"Let's go find 'em," Daryl finally spoke up.

Beth smiled at his attempt at optimism, and reclaimed her place under his left side.

…

"Alright. This is what we're going to do," a familiar voice filled Beth's ears.

She looked up at Daryl with a smile so big that her cheeks hurt. He in turn gave her a half smile and Beth's smile widened even further. They came out of the alleyway, into the courtyard, to see a large group of men and women on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They were surrounded by a few familiar faces, but the majority of people pointing a gun were strangers. Beth assumed them to be the once captives of Terminus. She smirked at the irony of the situation. They froze when several guns pointed their direction and it was Abraham that came to their defense.

"Whoa now! These guys are with us," he moved between the pointed weapons and the two of them.

The guns immediately fell back to the tied Terminus residents. Beth let out a sigh of relief and felt the hold around her shoulders loosen. She hadn't even realized Daryl had pulled her closer until he had relaxed his grip.

"You guys alright? Thought for sure you'd been offed when we lost cover from the roof," Abraham's brash comment came as no surprise. Beth had already pegged him for the blunt, straightforward type.

"We ran inta' some trouble," Daryl replied flatly.

"You guys alright?" Rick approached from behind Abraham.

"For tha' most part," Daryl reached out and accepted Ricks hand, clasping around his forearm and holding firmly.

"Bob's in that building over there," Rick gestured, "Had a few residents kind enough to show us where they kept their medical supplies. Go get yer'self patched up."

"Hey Rick," Beth stopped him, "There's a woman on the roof."

Rick's eyes followed the direction Beth pointed, "Alright. I'll send someone up to get her. You get him taken care of."

Beth glanced up at Daryl, knowing he wasn't too fond of their resident medic, but to her relief he nodded and began moving in the direction Rick had indicated.

He was slowing down and looked paler than usual. Beth felt him putting more weight on her than he had before. As soon as they reached the building she helped him sit on one of the cots in the room. Bob, with Maggie close behind, came over to them as soon as they recognized them.

"What happened?" Bob bent down to look at Daryl's leg.

Daryl made a move to stand and Beth put her hand on his shoulder, "He got shot."

"It's a through and through. Doesn't look like it hit anything inside. How long ago were you shot?" Bob asked in an all-business tone.

"Couple'ah hours maybe?" Daryl replied.

Beth wasn't sure how long they had been on the roofs. She knew it had seemed like a blur, but she had no realistic concept for a timeline.

"It's drained quite a bit, but he'll need stitches on the exit wound. We can just bandage the back of his leg. Let me get the stuff," Bob finished.

"Hell if you do," Daryl hissed.

"Look man. I know you and I aren't on the greatest of terms, but you've gotta' get that sewn up," Bob tried to persuade Daryl.

"I don't need no stitches. Just bring me some bandages," Daryl argued.

"Beth," Bob turned to her, "His wounds have to be closed to prevent infection. He won't listen to me."

Beth looked down to Daryl who was glaring up at her, daring her to try and get him to trust Bob, and she sighed, "Bob get the stuff-"

"He ain't stitchin' me up," Daryl snarled.

"I'll do it," Beth continued, ignoring Daryl's interruption.

"You can't just stitch someone up Beth," Bob began.

"She can," Maggie announced, "Beth's helped daddy mend animals on the farm plenty of times. She can do it."

With Maggie's declaration, Bob didn't bother pushing the issue and left them to get the materials she would need. He returned a moment later and Beth got straight to work. She first removed her makeshift bandage that had once been a part of her shirt. She then cut a hole in both sides of his jeans where the bullet had entered and exited, having to bend awkwardly to get the backside. She then sterilized his wounds with alcohol, forcing a steady stream of curses from Daryl's lips, and placed a clean bandage over the back of his leg. She then cleaned the needle and hesitated.

"This is gonna' hurt," Beth looked up at him apologetically, "There's nothin' to numb the pain."

"Jus' get on with it," Daryl grit out.

"Alright," Beth gave him a weak smile, "Lay on your back."

Daryl followed her request and laid down on the cot. She looked around for anything he could bite down on and Bob, seemingly reading her mind, handed her a wad of gauze.

"Best I could find," Bob explained.

"It'll have to do," Beth acknowledged, "Daryl. Bite down on this."

He took the gauze from her, but didn't place it between his teeth. Shaking her head at his obstinacy, she sat on her knees and inserted the needed into his skin. She met with resistance and had to force the needle through, the coarse string following behind, and Daryl groaned. She found purchase on the other side of the wound and pulled the skin together with her fingers. Daryl's next sound was muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

She worked quickly placing three neat stitches in his skin and effectively closing the wound. She glanced up at him and saw that he was sweating, chest heaving, and his forearm covered his eyes.

"All done," Beth said gently.

Daryl removed his arm and mumbled, "Thanks."

With Daryl taken care of, Beth's mind immediately jumped to Judith and the group waiting for them back at the Blazer.

"We need to let Carol and everyone know we're okay," Beth said aloud.

"Rick and everyone else are taking care of the Terminus residents and I've got a lot of people here that need taking care of," Bob replied.

"I'll go," Beth volunteered.

"The hell you will," Daryl tried to sit up.

"I'll be fine," Beth pressed him back down on the cot.

"She's right. They'd be safer here than they are in that Blazer," Maggie agreed, "I'll go with you."

Beth turned and smiled to her sister, immensely grateful that she understood and shared Beth's concerns, "Okay. We need to go now. The sun should be up soon."

Maggie nodded, leaving to gather her things.

Beth looked back down to Daryl who held a scowl, "We'll be gone and back before you know it."

"You watch yourselves," Daryl's glare remained.

"I've had a good teacher. I made it an entire winter on my own, remember?" Beth asked with a smile, trying to ease his anxiety.

Daryl exhaled through his nose and reached for his discarded crossbow, "Take your other bolt. In case you need it."

She smiled at his quoting of her words to him and took the bolt from his quiver. She could see that Maggie was finishing up and would be ready to go any second. She bit the inside of her cheek. She felt like she needed to do something. She wasn't sure what, and the air between them wasn't clear, so she did the only thing that felt natural.

Bending down, she brushed some of his bangs away from his forehead, and pressed her lips softly to his skin. When she pulled back, Daryl's eyes were closed, and her hand lingered. Wiping some of the blood from his face, her eyes admired his features until they met sharp blue.

"You get some rest," she said softly.

Daryl didn't reply. He continued to stare at her with a look that Beth wasn't sure she understood and she gave him another weak smile.

"You ready?" Maggie asked as she approached.

Beth kept her gaze on Daryl a moment longer before standing and answering her sister, "Yeah. Let's go."

As she began following Maggie out of the room, she heard Daryl call to her.

"You'd better be back before sundown or I'm comin' to get ya'."

Beth smiled a true smile, nodded her head, and followed after Maggie. While she knew Daryl's threat was real, she couldn't help but be amused by the idea of him hobbling down the miles of road they had to travel to reach everyone waiting for them.

Daryl...wait for me.

A/N: So the battle for Terminus has finally come to an end! Details of what happened will be revealed in later chapters, but Daryl and Beth both survived! Give me some feedback! XOXO