Chapter Eighteen

Beth stares down at the discarded foot, watching the blood pour out from one limb and another, soaking into the ground to be joined by the blood dripping from her ax. Her own breathing ragged as the world dims around her. The faint smell of copper being swept into the wind and into Beth's senses, reminding her of days when she would scrub her mama's pots.

The moment blurred, causing her to lose focus. That voice in the back of her head saying, "you can't fix this. It's done. He's gone."

Beth squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears back as she took in a deep breath. Internally screaming "No!" as she tried to bring herself back. An unfamiliar voice shouted at her. Demanding her attention, and Beth forced herself to listen to the voice. Finally understanding Allen as he said, "you hear me? He's going unconscious."

"Shit," Beth says, just under her breath as she launches herself into action. Kneeling down next to her father and finally taking in his pale features, and rolling eyes. The stump is still bleeding out, and beyond the voice that is screaming at her to give in and curl up, she's remembering another voice. Asking her what she does to stop a wound from bleeding out.

"Pressure," she mumbles, rushing over to the stump while undoing her belt buckle. Was it the best solution? No. Should she have done this first? Probably. She didn't have time to think though. Pure instinct took over as she wrapped the buckle a bit of the stump, and pulled the pants from the discarded leg. Hoping to apply enough pressure to stop the bleed. "We've got to stop the bleeding," she explains, glancing up at the two guys that are staring, just as lost and confused as she feels in the moment.

"Got to stop the bleeding," she repeats, nearly panicked as she watches Hershel go unconscious. His features getting whiter by the moment, and tears slowly slip down her cheeks. The idea of losing her father, after everything, almost unbearable and she fought the fear away. Ignored the sound of Maggie's screams when she finds out and Daryl's words from, what felt like a lifetime ago, echoing in her head.

"Sister's screamin, Daddy's dead…. Don't lie there like some dead girl!"

"Don't leave me," Beth whispers, almost sobbing as she rips the bottom of her shirt, using to tie the filthy pants against his wound and praying it was enough to get them back to the cabin. Moving up so that she's next to her father's head, she places a hand against his neck. Looking for that the tattle-tale pulse that said she did something right. When she feels it, she lets another tear slip out saying, "You can't leave yet."

Looking up, the men are still staring at her she nods her head toward their camp. "Get a blanket, or something. We got to carry him back to camp."

Allen looks at his son, brows furrowing as he looks back at her. "Thought you said…" he starts shaking his head.

Beth's head snaps up, her eyes going wide as she stares at him in disbelief. "Just get the damn blanket."

Ben doesn't hesitate. He jumps from his spot next to his father and returns a moment later with a sleeping bag. Beth gives a silent thanks to above and helps roll her father, doing her best to ignore how heavy he is. Telling herself between the three of them they can make it.

"We're not that far," she whispers, brushing her fingers across her father's forehead. More to reassure herself then anything as she nods her head. "Not that far."

With a heave, the three of them manage to lift him up. Two men at the head and her at the feet. Watching as his head rolls from one direction to the next. Basically lifeless before her, and she does her best not to cry. Not to fall apart here, when he needs her the most. Reminding herself that he was one that demanded she get the ax. That she should take charge. He must have known he would go cold. That he wouldn't be here to walk her through this. The faith her father had in her is what kept her moving. Pushing the two men to continue. Even as they looked ready to collapse, and the sound of walkers moving toward them made them freeze she kept up an ever steady "keep moving. We got to keep moving. "

The adrenaline pushing her muscles to go just that bit farther. To move a bit faster through the woods Tripping over branches and leaves as she gripped the sleeping bag tighter. Knowing she couldn't drop him, knowing that every moment was precious and if they stopped for even a moment it could be lost. Could already be lost, but still she pushed them on. Her own breathing becoming ragged as she glances behind her to see a walker stumbling along. Quickly catching up to them, snarling and reaching for something she wasn't willing to leave behind.

"It's pointless," Ben says, his shoulders dropping like he was ready to let go.

Beth glares at him, her hands turning white. "Don't you dare. He tried to help you." Beth looks to Allen for confirmation and the man takes a deep breath. Nodding as he heaves the man between them up and nods at his son. "We gotta try."

Together they push through, keeping their focus on the walker that's steadily growing closer. Between the walker's noises, and their own rush through the forest, Beth is shocked there isn't more walkers stumbling toward them. Still, she doesn't question her luck as they stop at the top of a steep hill. Their arms aching and out of breath. The sound of water coming closer, and Beth knew they weren't far off. Couldn't be another ten minutes, and she clutches the blanket, pulling it up and waiting for the others to follow suite when she hears running.

Several footsteps coming closer to them, and she holds her breath. Waiting to catch sight of whomever it maybe when Glenn comes into view. Stopping long enough to take in the sight of Beth with two strangers and a heavy sleeping bag between them before he hollers, "over here" behind him and Rick and Merle appear along him.

"What happened?" Rick asks the moment he is close enough to shove Allen out of the way, Glenn taking up Ben's place and Merle coming around to grab an end from Beth.

"There was a walker in the bush," she says, out of breath as Rick and Glenn pull them along. The pace much faster now that they were there to help. Allen and Ben hesitate for only a moment, looking at each other in question before taking out the walker stalker, and following along.

Rick just stares at her. The weight of his eyes bringing the guilt up even more, and she forces herself to shove it down. To shut that voice up that says, "he's blaming you cause this is your fault"

Beth ignores it just as she ignores him, and tells herself it's circumstances. It's the world they live in but it doesn't make the weight go away. Doesn't wash away the fear that builds up as the fences come into view, and the gate is whipped open at the sound of Glenn's whistle. The startled look on Carl's face and the way Maggie's hands go up to cover her mouth. The blood draining from her flushed face, making her look as pale and lifeless as their father who is being placed on a bed.

Carol's gasp tightens the knot in her stomach, but she doesn't comment as she rushes forward. Removing Beth's makeshift wrap to get a better look at the wound. "I need supplies," she says to no one in particular and only looks up when she realizes no one has moved.

"Beth," she shouts, catching her attention, and the young girl looks to her. Her eyes wide and scared, and says. "Get the supplies."

Beth nods, vaguely aware that the motions are automatic. Any control she had over her bottom is gone at the sight of her families own reactions. Her hands finding the bag full of medical supplies easy enough, it's the moment she looks into the mirror to find herself covered in blood. Most of it had to be walker blood, but there are those bright red spots, still warm and fresh on her skin that tells her know it's her father's blood. The reflection practically begs her to come closer. To let out the fear and frustration and utter disbelief out there and then. Instead she clutches the bag and runs back into the guest room where Carol is pressing against Hershel's leg with all her might. Lori sits at the front, her finger pressed to his neck to check his pulse, and the wide eyed stare she shares with Carol doesn't look good.

"Here," Carl says, handing more towels over to Beth, and she takes them, throwing them on the bed and kneeling next to Carol. Holding up a fresh towel for Carol as the woman hands over the bloody towel to her. The red soaked thing gets thrown to the floor with another pile of bloodied clothes.

"It's not stopping," she says, looking to Carol with a silent plea. The older woman shakes her head, giving her a barley there smile as she looks back at the open wound.

"It will. You could have hit an artery, but it is slowing," she says, give Beth another long look.

"I didn't mean," Beth starts, gripping the towel in her hand. "He begged me too." She looks up to Maggie, who is coming around to stand next to her, her hand reaching out to give her little sister's shoulder a hard squeeze. Beth gives her a quick glance, doing her best to stuff the tears that are threatening to spill out only to see that Maggie is doing the same thing. Her eyes swimming with unshed tears as they both look back at their father, and the blood continuing to seep out of him.

"You saved him, Beth," Maggie whispers, her nails digging into her skin, almost painfully if not for the relief she feels at the sting. Barely there, but there all the same and Beth reaches her own hand up to give Maggie's a quick squeeze. Relief that she's not the only one standing here, feeling this fear with her as she repeats. "You saved him."

Minutes pass, a possibly. Beth couldn't tell anymore until Carol reaches out and grabs her hand. Squeezing it slightly as she pulls Beth closer to the Hershel's stump. "You know how to wrap this." It isn't a question, and Beth only responds with a quick nod as moves closer. Taking the gauze that is handed to her and begins to work. Remaining silent as Carol moves to the bed of medical supplies. Searching for something that she doesn't say until she looks to Maggie and Beth.

"Either one of you know what his blood type is?"

Maggie is the one that nods, biting her lip as her gaze goes over first Hershel and then her sister. "We're all the same blood type."

Carol gives her a searching gaze and Maggie's nod turns vigorous. "Promise. Mama always said so." Beth nods in agreement at her words, and Carol lets out a heavy sigh.

"Then sit. He's going to need some blood and soon."

Maggie follows her orders, sitting in the small recliner in the corner of the room as Beth finishes up with his leg. Moving up to his side so that she can grab his hand, and squeeze it. Bowing her head so that to pray for that miracle that they'd been holding out for since her mother was bit. Praying for some kind of sign that this is all worth it.

The first time Daryl wakes up he feels nothing but pain ringing through his body. The chill he feels from the inside-out shakes his body again and again. Attempting to sit up doesn't help, but he has to move. Can't stand the idea of just lying down. Being still for too long was never a good thing for him, only he is pushed back down by a blonde at the edge of his vision. Her whispered words of, "just relax. You need to stay still a little while longer."

Daryl doesn't argue. He does narrow his eyes, trying to focus on the woman only to give up a moment later and collapse back down. The pain taking over, forcing his body to shut back down despite his protests. When he wakes up again, his vision's clearer and he can focus on a blonde woman making her way into the tent. Her backs to him, though the curls look all too familiar and he can't help but breath out, "Andrea?"

The woman turns, her green eyes focusing on him and he lays his head back. Thankful that it's a familiar face until his muscles tense up the moment he tries to relax. A groan escapes his lips making him regret the movement instantly as he takes in a deep breath, noting the pain in his lungs, before releasing it to ask. "Where am I?" His voice is raspy from non-use and he swallows a bit to moisten his mouth.

"In a small camp," Andrea replies, moving closer to hand him a small cup of water before resting the back of her hand on his forehead. Daryl swallows slowly, feeling the relief pour through him as Andrea continues placing her hand around his face for a moment before removing it, and giving him a slight smile. "You're not sweating bullets, and you got my name right for a change. I'd say that's an improvement."

Daryl's brows come together, head almost cocking to the side as Andrea nods in understanding. "You've been calling me Beth since we found you. I'm assuming you're still in the same camp."

Daryl nods. "Most of the of us are still together." He meets her gaze, noting the sad look that appears in her eyes. Looking around the space, he notices the red canvas surrounding him, and the shadows that appear outside of them. Three people, that he could see and he looks to Andrea, who follows his gaze.

"I have to get back to them," Daryl whispers, attempting to sit up only to have the pain lance through his body again, causing him to curse as he squeezes his eyes shut and attempt to breathe through it.

"You're not going anywhere in your state," Andrea starts, glaring at him when he lets out a short "psh."

"I'm serious, Daryl. Your fever is just going down, and you've got bruised, if not cracked, ribs. Moving anywhere right now is suicide." She gives him a pointed look, and Daryl glares back, already attempting to sit up again as he mumbles, "you know I've had worse."

"I know, but Daryl, you're not doing anybody any favors trying to head out like this. If the group is still together then that means Rick is still in charge, right?" she asks, her head bowing down as their eyes make contact. Daryl attempts to glower even more at the woman. Hoping to scare her before remembering this is Andrea he is staring down and he nods in response.

"Then that means, they're fine. Rick can take care of Beth, and everyone else." Andrea pushes him back down. Her hand resting on his shoulder as she kneels back. Satisfied that he is no longer fighting her. "I promise. Just another day or two and we'll help you get back."

Daryl keeps eye contact with her. Looking for the lie in her gaze before exhaustion wins out. His body already telling him that she is right. Heading out now would only cause him to pass out god knows where, and that would only make things worse. Look how close he came to being walker chow the last time he passed out in the woods.

Turning his head toward the red canvas, Daryl closes his eyes. Hoping that the others okay and wondering just how long he'd been unconscious for. Hopefully not all that long. Lord knew he was going to hear a lecture or two from the people back home, though maybe showing up with Andrea in tow would lighten the weight. Maybe. There was still the nagging feeling a certain blonde wouldn't let him off so easily.

By the next morning, Daryl is already sitting up in bed. His muscles protesting as much as Andrea, though Daryl curses them both in to submission. Reminding them that they had a home and family to get back to.

"You're a stubborn ass, you know that?" Andrea glares at him, hoping her hard gaze will change his mind, and Daryl meets her with his own hard stare. The idea of lying here another day already making him twitch. "But the others agreed to help you get home so…" Andrea holds her hands out in front of her, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal to begin with.

"Others?" Daryl asks, looking at the tent again, and remembering the shadows that appeared outside of it the day before. Squinting at the woman sitting across from him, Andrea eventually nods.

"My group," she says, smiling at him like it's supposed to reassure him. It does. A little. Only because Andrea is sitting in front of him, and he knows her. Or knew her. The Andrea he remembered all those months ago was always trying to play the peacekeeper. Trying to help people through anything. He looks her up and down. Curious if this is the same Andrea, or if something made her change. Maybe something snapped, but he doesn't see a difference. Not right off the bat, so he nods in understanding and looks away. Swallowing what bile he can without causing too much pain. "Good. We're just about packed, so when you're ready, point us in the right direction."

Andrea leaves him after that, giving him a moment to take a few deep breaths before looking around the room. Noting for the first time that his bow and bag are missing. Gaze narrowing, he looks out the flap. Seeing a few people moving about and he forces himself up. Grabbing at his ribs as they protest the movement as he forces himself to duck and exit the tent. The bright sun hitting him harder the expected, and there's spots in his eyes for a moment before they adjust and he's able to breathe in a deep breath. Taking a look at the small camp that's being packed away. Andrea and three other people working fast. Precise even. Like they'd done this a million times, and he makes something in him ache. Makes him want to be with his own group. His own family.

"He lives," a woman says, catching Daryl's attention. He takes in the way her hair is pull back, and the machete in her hands. Though it's the strap around her that catches his attention, and he steps forward. Hand coming up to point at his bow. "Hand me my bow."

The woman shakes her head. "Nope, I get to carry your weapon while, my brother, Tyresse takes the bag." She nods toward a bigger man with a beanie on top of his head and small dagger in the other. Daryl stared at him a moment, taking in his large frame and having no doubt the man could do a lot of a damage with that small knife. Still.

He takes another step forward and motions for her to hand it over again. "I ain't goin anywhere without my bow."

"Andrea said you have to go light. Now, you can trust us. We'll help you." The woman says, nodding behind him toward Andrea. Daryl looks at his friend for a moment, then back at the woman in front of him before heading over to Andrea. She stands at the edge of the camp, another woman with a head full of dread locks that are being held back by a bandana or scarf and a katana strapped around her. Together the two women are holding a map between them and when Andrea heard Daryl's approach she looks up to meet his gaze.

"We're ready to go, just need a direction," Andrea says, stepping closer to the other woman to allow Daryl to look at the map.

"I want my bow," he says, not even bothering with glancing at the map. Opting instead to stare Andrea down when she starts in with a "Daryl-" Only to be cut off by him as he continues. "Andrea, we both know I can handle my own. Especially after you shot me in the head while I had an arrow wound in my side."

"I didn't shoot you in the head, it barely grazed you," Andrea starts, exasperation clear in her tone.

"You shot him in the head?" The woman next to them asks, an eyebrow rising up at Andrea as Daryl leans forward.

"You were aiming for my head."

"Either way, you are not exerting yourself more than necessary." Andrea deadpans. Giving him a hard glare that says she intends to win this battle and the man, Tyresse, walks over.

"Here," he says, handing over the knife in his hand. It's bigger then Daryl first thought, a good ten-inch blade that is sharp even at a glance and he watches as the man walks over to his sister. "I'll take the bow, Sasha takes the bag and he can take the knife."

Daryl's jaw locks together. His muscles tensing because he doesn't like this arrangement any better. Andrea holds her hands up, shrugging at him. "See, everyone happy?"

Daryl glares at her, their eyes locking for only a minute before she nods at Tyresse. The big man hands over the bow, and Daryl hands him back his knife. Wincing with every move while pulling the strap at him. Andrea stands there glaring at him. Eyes practically boring into him until he's settled and she's able to hold the map up to get his detention.

"Now, that we are ALL happy. Where we going?"

Daryl steps forward. Gazing at the map and then around him before he asks, "Where's the river."

"That way," The woman with dread says, pointing to their right. Daryl takes a step back, looking around at the sky before motioning to the direction in front of them. "We should head that way. The cabin is attached to a wheel well, can't miss it."

Okay, my apologizes on taking so long for posting this. The whole family got sick, and there just wasn't a moment to really sit and write anything out.

Thanks again for the all reviews and follows, and thank you for being patient with me.