** HAPPY Chapter 15 and 50,000 WORDS! **
Extra-long chapter today, roughly over 4000. Does that mean I get extra reviews? :P Purty Please?
Anyway, thanks for the support everyone! I appreciate all the reviews and feedback I get! Thank you so much for everyone's kind words and support!

Enjoy!

Take Me as I Am
Chapter 15
[Back to Square One]

Michonne and Carl were shocked to see him. Well, Carl was. Michonne… not so much. Maybe she knew he could take care of his own ass. What she didn't know, and what Daryl wasn't going to disclose was that Beth was in a coma. Knowing how badass this woman can be only serves to prove that she could be a danger to Beth if she doesn't realize that Beth isn't going to turn into a walker. You know, having been bit and all.

Despite his greatest relief, he thought it was odd that Beth didn't turn into a walker, even if the undead's blood or saliva infecting her arm. That is why her arm looked infected and sore, right? He was no expert in medicine, but damn… if Beth survives this and comes out of her coma, doesn't it mean she has some kind of defense against this damn virus or whatever the fuck is making them corpses rise?

"Shit," Daryl muttered under his breath, a dawn of new worries washed over him. People will want to hunt her down… wouldn't they? To find a cure.

In the process, they might even kill her… Hell be damned, he wasn't going to let that shit happen to her. No, he was going to protect her. No one else can know about her situation, no one but him, her and Rick. Rick won't bring harm to Hershel's youngest, there's no way.

"You okay?" Rick questioned as the group of four walked towards the funeral home.

Daryl nodded as nonchalantly as possible, brushing Rick's concern as if nothing. "Yeah… yeah. Why?" He knew he could trust Rick, but just… how much when it comes to Beth's safety?

Rick shrugged, "You look like you're banging your head against a rock there with all your thinking. Something bothering you?"

"Nah, just stuff. Nothing serious or nothin'," Daryl readjusted his crossbow over his shoulder before taking in their current location.

"Daryl, how much longer are we going to need to travel?" Michonne's voice was firm, but not harsh.

Daryl turned around, ready to give her crap about not being able to take a few hours of walking until he noticed in the dark, her deep brown eyes darting between him and Carl. An intentional gesture. He looked over Carl, his eyes were dark—not of the color, but as if something dark and low-spirited enveloped his growing body.

Carl was… not Carl.

The mere thought of Carl being so gravely affected stunned him to a short moment of silence. If those damn marauders weren't dead, he'd hunt them down just to wring their necks with his bare hands for hurting Carl and Michonne in that way. Certainly, they never did get the chance to make true of their promise, but damned be… that threat was just as bad as the action itself.

"Daryl?" Rick drew him out of his thoughts.

"Not far, about ten minute walk from here if we speed it up," Daryl replied, swiftly turning on his heels. He was unable to stare at Carl's injured soul any longer.

What the fuck is with this world? The world goes to Hell and everyone loses their morals. Damn, yeah he was no saint. Though it would be a damn fucking, icy cold day in Hell before he would lay a hand on a woman and child like that. His life, his world before walkers were filled with Merle, riding, endless destinations and drunken bars—never once did he force a woman to do what she didn't want to do. They were all willing, and that was fine by him.

Something about the apocalypse drawing the worse out of people, and shit—it should be bringing the best out of men. You would think mankind would band together and try to save as many people as possible—like what Rick did. Because of some people's greed and anger… it wouldn't be possible to save everyone. Not anymore.

"Whoa… you did this?" Carl jogged in front of them to examine Daryl's handiwork of the speared fence surrounding the funeral home.

"You knew Morgan?" Rick's voice chipped in, and followed his son, checking the sturdiness of the spears.

"Who?" Who the hell is Morgan? "Naw, basic trapping skills I learned from a long time ago. Sturdy, should keep us safe for now. Come on," he nodded his head at a gap between the wooden spears that was barred with a horizontal piece of wood. He made short work of moving it aside to let Rick, Carl and Michonne through before barring the gap once more.

"There shouldn't be any walkers in here, but be on your guard, just in case," Daryl suggested and stepped through the front door of the funeral home, then lit a propane lantern he hung on the wall. He found at one of the hunting shops in a town nearby on one of his material runs.

The soft white light illuminated the foyer, it wasn't much but it was clean. He had cleaned up the dismembered walkers from the basement and wiped off all the blood. He didn't want to leave this place dirty if the owner came home eventually. Beth mentioned something about the owner… he couldn't remember much now. It had been three long weeks since she was able to speak to him.

"Kitchen's right here," he gestured to his left, "spare bedroom upstairs… coffin room, storage." He was about to lead the three into the kitchen until a loud thud echoed from upstairs, then came Dooley's incisive barking.

Beth.

"BETH!" Daryl shoved past Rick and Michonne and raced up the stairs. He heard their footsteps hot on his heels, but he didn't care. Something was wrong.

There would be no reason for Dooley to be barking like he was. Daryl feared the worse—Beth finally turning into a walker.

Daryl propelled the chair that prevented the door from opening or closing, just in case if walkers did manage to break through the front door. Barging into the dark room without any concern for his own safety, he scanned the bed for Beth.

Empty.

His heart hammered in his chest, his ears throbbed from the pressure of his blood. He took his eyes off of the bed for the briefest of seconds to scan the windows, until a body from inside the room, launched at him.

"Daryl!" Rick called out behind him, carrying the gas lantern up the stairs with him.

Daryl fought with the creature, not knowing if it was walker Beth or something else. Whoever, whatever it was, it was weak. He tossed the assaulter over to the side, making it fall onto the wooden floor, kneeling. One hand gripped at its neck, his other hand held onto a wrist that had a bloodied knife on it.

"The hell?" The blade… the hand. It was familiar. Then, the throbbing pain of a fresh wound made itself known on his left bicep. "You fucking cut me?" he said, incredulously.

"Let go of me! What did you do with my Daddy?! Shawn! Maggie! Mama!"

Beth.

His assaulter is Beth… but Beth was different… changed.

She struggled against his hold on her, trashing with her knife raised and ready to attack again.

"Damn it, Beth! It's me! Put the fucking knife down!" Daryl, unwilling to pin her down like a criminal any longer, released his grip and jumped back, leaving her breathless on the floor.

"Who… who," she pulled the nightgown she wore closer to her chest, fearing for her life. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" she asked, unshed tears filled her eyes, her knife pointed at him, Rick and Michonne.

-0-

She woke up to feeling so empty… so cold, alone and in throbbing pain. Then a strange white dog jumped on top of her, scaring her senseless before she shoved it off of her and onto the floor.

What was this dog doing in her room? Did her family get a new pet?

Then came the banging, the stomping… and the strange men and woman in the doorway.

Now, she clutched onto her knife for dear life, confused and frightened beyond belief. "Where's my dad?"

Daddy will know what to do with these people.

The three strange people looked at her, shock written all over their faces. Why were they so surprised? And blood… they had blood all over them. Murders.

"You better leave now or I'll call the sheriff! My daddy's good friends with him," she tried to make her voice brave, firm and unafraid, but how wrong she was. She sounded as threatening as a week old kitten.

"Beth… honey," the man with the lantern stepped past the solemn looking man with the long chestnut brown hair. "Look, I'm going to hold my hand up and show you I ain't going to hurt you. We're not gonna hurt you. Okay? We're friends with your daddy too."

"I—I don't believe you! You have blood all over you, like some sick psychopathic serial killers… you better leave, now!" Beth took steps behind her until her bottom fell against the top of the mattress. She spotted the closed window from the corner of her eyes.

If they weren't going to leave, she wasn't going to stay here and let them have their way with her. She'll run to her neighbor's and get help. Yeah, that's a good idea.

"We're not going to hurt you, Beth. You're safe here," the man took another step towards her.

Beth felt her blood run cold. The sudden image of an unrecognizable man tearing at her clothes in the dark ran through her eyes. Her heart sped up as the few seconds of whatever it was danced before her eyes. "No, no! Stay away from me!" She jumped over to the other edge of the bed and threw open the window.

"Beth, NO!"

All three of them ran towards her, she panicked. She used the windowsill as her lever and pushed herself off and tucked her body into a roll. In a mind numbing second, she felt her body crush against the cold, dead plant matter covered ground. Her vision went black, a shrill ring echoed through her ears as she tried to breathe through her mouth.

She didn't expect that room to be on the second level. She didn't know what she expected. She just knew that those people… with the blood… they were dangerous. The room wasn't hers. The scene that played through her head before she jumped, she thought they kept her hostage for that purpose.

Where was daddy?

"Daddy," she whispered hoarsely, her body still numb from the fall. She had to get help. There was no telling what those strangers did to her family. She must get up. Now. She gasped at the pain that numbed all her limbs when she tried to push herself up. Gripping a handful of leaves and dirt in both hands, she pulled her knees towards her stomach. The simple action along rendered her weak and breathless.

"Beth!" She heard them call out for her from around the building.

How did they even know her name? Did she tell them… or was it possible they really knew her daddy?

No. Her daddy wouldn't be friends with psychopaths. No way. For all she knew, the blood on them could be from her family. She had to leave. Now.

Beth pulled herself onto her feet despite the gripping pain in her arms and legs. Step by step, she limped towards the dark forest; she had to find someone to get help.

Just a few steps later, Beth saw a shadow in front of her. A woman's figure. Help.

"Help! Help me please! I, I think I've been kidnapped! Ma'am, help me please!" Beth limped after the figure as quickly as she could.

Not too far behind her, she could her them shouting for her to stay where she is. Why? So they can kidnap her again? Not likely.

"Ma'am! Help me!" she screamed at the shadow figure. Beth let out a relieved laugh when the figure stopped, turned and started to saunter towards her. "Do you have a cellphone on you? I need to call the Sheriff!"

Beth stopped walking, out of breath and exhausted. Her gaze never left the woman who walked towards her. It was weird to her… the woman looked as if she was limping too.

"Are you hurt ma'am?" She called out to her. No answer and still she continued to walk towards her. Second instinct began to kick in when Beth felt her knees grow shaky as adrenaline pumped through her. Something told her to run.

Something wasn't right.

"Hello?" Beth called again, her voice shaky and uncertain. She took a weary step towards the sauntering female, who was only two yards from her. Under the canopy of the trees, not much moonlight was able to penetrate through.

As the figure got closer, Beth heard an animalistic growl around her.

"What… what is that? Hello?" She called out again, her head inclined forward as the woman got closer. A stream of moonlight illuminated the top of the woman's head and her face.

Beth screamed.

"Oh my god!" Beth stumbled back out of sheer terror.

The flesh on the woman's skin had been decayed off, with exposed, black teeth from the lack of flesh covering it. The animalistic sound was coming from her… it. It snarled at Beth as it got closer. Beth scooted back on her legs and hands, frozen to the ground but her body told her to run.

"Beth!" The three were only seconds away from reaching her. Still, Beth didn't know what to do but to stare at the approaching creature with frozen fear.

"Get… get away from me!" She shouted at the corpse like creature, pushing herself backwards, not caring the twigs and branches on the ground scraped at her soft skin. She just wanted to get away from this… this thing.

The creature snarled at her in response, and when it finally got close, it toppled over her, snapping its rotting teeth at her neck.

Beth shrieked and attempted to shove it off of her with her hands gripping at its shoulders. The sensation was nauseating. The flesh fell off as she pushed at it, making it impossible for her to hold back the creature.

"Oh my god! Someone help me!" she cried in desperation.

"Beth!"

She didn't know who helped her, nor did she really care at this point, the corpse was thrown off her and onto her left side. She had only but a second to see one of the men from before plunge a knife through the head of the creature that attacked her.

She began hyperventilating, too stunned to even scream as black blood oozed out of the creature's head. Her lip trembled, her body shivered in both fear and the cold.

"Incoming," the dark female with a long sword spoke up. "We better get in the house Daryl."

Daryl, the solemn looking man with the long chestnut colored hair, the one who apparently plunged the knife through that thing's head, picked her in his arms and ran towards the house without hesitation.

She didn't know what was happening… she was unable to refuse, unable to push herself out of his arms. The last thing she remembered, before darkness swallowed her, was looking over his broad shoulder as more figures from the forest heading towards their way.

-0-

She heard voices whispering around her and drew her out of her restless slumber

"How much do you think she remembers?" she heard the woman say.

"Considering how she thinks mama's still alive… probably back before we left the farm."

Beth's eyes snapped open.

"What did you say?" she whispered harshly, her eyes focused on the man who previously held the lantern.

They looked at her, stunned for the second time that night. Or, it must be the same night considering they were in the same clothes and it was still dark out.

"What did you say?" she asked again, it was almost mind numbing that they thought her mama was dead. "My mama's not dead. We were baking cookies just yesterday. Shawn, Maggie, Daddy and Jimmy… they all loved my cookies."

The grim looks on their faces made her heart race in panic. What was going on? Who were they? Where is her family?

"Where is my family? What did you do with them?" She demanded hotly, pulling herself up into a seated position. "Tell me or I'm gonna call the Sheriff!"

"Honey, I am a Sheriff. Rick Grimes," the man, standing next to the woman spoke up. "Now I know there's a lot running through your head right now, but we need you to remain calm. We can't have you alerting the walkers towards us again."

"Walkers? What are you talking about?" A body wracking chill shook her body as she recalled the decayed face of the creature that attacked her. Walker. That must be what they're talking about.

"Yeah, we call them walkers, but they're like zombies… you know, like from the movies," a young teenage spoke up from the other corner of the room. She hadn't noticed him before. "What year is this?"

"2010… Spring… of course… what kind of question is that?"

She saw the man who saved her, Daryl, chew at his bottom lip with his arms tucked under one another with a grim expression in his steel blue eyes. There was something about him that was so familiar, she wondered what it was. As if he knew she was thinking of him, his eyes connected with hers—her heart fluttered in her chest.

There was something strange about the flutter in her chest when he looked at her… it wasn't of fear. It could be anything, though fear… she knew for sure it was not.

"It ain't 2010 no more," he muttered under his breath, she heard it though.

She looked up at him, confused. "How… how is it 2012? That means I would've graduated already… I… was in class yesterday…"

"You better fucking believe it, girl. Go look in the mirror and see if that's the same you that went to bed all happy last night. There ain't no more schools. No more baking. No more parties for you young folks to run around doing crazy shit while shit faced drunk. The world ended, Beth," Daryl's demeanor changed. Fury raged in his eyes as he scowled and ranted on. "This world ain't what it used to be no more. Those things you saw out there—they'll kill you, bite your head off without a fucking moment of hesitation. Why? Fuck if we know! That 'woman' you were asking for help from, that's a fucking walker. They don't think. They don't speak. They don't do nothing but chase whoever the hell is surviving this shit and tear the bloody flesh off.

And your family? Your Daddy? They're all gone. Dead as a fucking door nail. Why? They were fucking good people and they died under the hands of psychopathic assholes that wants to control the fucking end of the world," his chest was heaving by the time he stopped. His eyes continued to rage fire within; it didn't seem as if he was done.

"That's enough Daryl," Rick, the so called sheriff spoke.

She didn't care though. The two men argued with each other—she didn't register any of their words after Daryl's rant. Dead. Could he be really telling the truth? Daddy… Mama… Shawn… Maggie… were they all really gone?

Her eyes casted down to her right forearm—a dirty bandage covered her soft flesh. A dull ache throbbed beneath it. With her fingers shaking, body trembling, she unwrapped the first layer, then exposed the clean white layers underneath. Slowly, her skin was revealed to her.

A large fresh blood scab, the size of a golfball marred her skin. She choked back a sob, confused. Tears splattered over her forearm as she was no longer able hold back. This was not here yesterday. She didn't get hurt yesterday.

She baked… then went straight to bed… unharmed. And yet… yet, this wound of hers… it was not fresh. It had to be at least a week or two old. And her clothes, she went to bed in a tank top and her favorite cotton pajama bottoms—not this oversized nightgown that covered her from neck to toe.

Numbly, she pushed herself off of the bed and limped across the unfamiliar room, to the unfamiliar vanity. In the dimly lit room, she stared at her reflection.

Blond hair frayed about untied, dark hues surrounded her blue eyes, her face—it looked worn… tired… older. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, but it remained there still, unmoving. Who was this person that was staring right back at her in the mirror?

It wasn't the 16 year old Beth that she thought she was yesterday.

Who was she? Where is she? Most importantly… just exactly how much did she forget?

"You should get some rest," the woman suggested gently.

Beth stared at the reflection of the woman in the mirror. She had dark creamy skin with large dark eyes that bore right into her soul. She wasn't smiling, but she didn't sound hostile either.

She noticed then, that the men had left the room. It was just this strange woman and her… alone. There was something about her that was strangely familiar as well. Like, some part of her knew that this woman won't hurt her.

"Where am I?"

"This is 2012… in five days, it'll be Thanksgiving."

2 years—over 2 years of her life she had forgotten. A storm raged underneath, but her reflection showed only her calm almost stoic face. She wasn't always like this… Mama always said 'don't let your emotions rule your actions, baby.' Mama would scold her with that when she threw a fit about something. Come to think of it, she was the baby of the family, always got what she wanted. And now… what about now?

In the two years that she had forgotten, could she have actually managed to grow up and control her emotions?

"I know it's a lot to handle right now, Beth. I know you don't remember me… you're not at your family farm anymore. My name's Michonne and I've been with the group for a while now… these guys… they're good people, and so are you."

Beth stared at Michonne's reflection in the mirror—she couldn't find the means to respond.

With a teary, bitter laugh Beth slumped onto the floor. Heaving sobs racked her fragile frame as the weight of the world had suddenly been dropped onto her shoulders. There was so much gone—so much lost—so much she didn't remember.

Everything around her didn't make sense. She remembered going to bed last night after kissing her family good night and now… Daryl said they were dead. Gone.

She felt Michonne's arms wrap around her shoulders in a comforting embrace, then eased her head onto the older woman's lap. Such a simple gesture only made Beth cry harder. Her mama had done this for her countless times when she cried. Her mama… gone… with the rest of her family.

Never had she felt so cold and empty… so alone. Nothing made sense. She didn't want to believe any of whatever they told her. If she wanted to live… no… she must live.

Taking the easy way out… that's not what her daddy taught her. If he is truly dead… she must go on. For him, for Shawn, Maggie and Mama.

/

JR- Wow 10 pages in Word. I'm happy! Beth loses her memory I know. Sucks. I had to show her character development somehow!

Daryl freaked out on her… Hmm… I wonder why?

And yes, I do promise this won't be permanent. Oops I mean, I don't not promise this won't be permanent..? Lol.

Thanks for reading everyone! Please review if you get the chance!