Before

"Let me GO!"

She struggled against the strong arms that held her back from rushing to the nearest vehicle and following the map she stole from the returning scouts. She used every bit of strength in her tiny body to shove them off but the grip was too powerful. She flailed like a wild beast, near rabid. If she were a dog they'd put her down.

They were so close.

A day, maybe two. Her family was right there and it was all she could do to get to them. If Okafor would just let her go. "Greene, listen," he ordered, though she continued to fight him. "STOP!" She calmed for a moment, catching her breath before trying again. He was just so strong. "Just listen to me!"

Her chest was heaving as tears started falling down her cheeks. As much as she promised herself she wouldn't cry, she couldn't help herself this time. They were right there.

"You can't go. They can't know you're alive."

She wailed, unable to hold it in any longer. "Why? They–"

He gripped her tighter though this time it felt more like an embrace rather than constraint. "If you go back they'll learn about this," he said, tapping the bite mark on her arm with one finger. "And they'll have to come here. The Republic won't let you leave." He was right of course, they wouldn't. "If they're here they can be used against you, and you know they would be. You'd be putting them at risk."

What he said made sense, "But–"

"You're a danger to them, Beth. If anyone knew what they meant to you, it would put a target on their back. And if they knew you were here they'd do whatever it took to get you back." Her family were no stranger to rescue missions; they always saved someone. But someone else always died in the process.

Last time it was her.

Now

She came back into herself just in time for a walker to get a little too close. It startled her back into motion to move out of its reach and pull her knife, stabbing it in the side of the head. With it not taking up her attention she finally noticed the ten or so others that had come crawling out of the foliage, likely drawn by the shouting. She dispatched a few more close to her, realizing that the throbbing sensation in her arm had expanded to her head, a migraine forming. Perfect timing as always.

The walkers she took down were soon replaced by others to the point where it would be better to run than fight, so she did. Dodging trees and more moving corpses, she broke through the trees and into the rear of the village. She could hear an argument in the direction of where the truck was parked, which would only attract more of the dead than the ones already chasing her.

She rounded the corner of a house to see Daryl and Rick standing only feet from each other, but it might as well have been 20 miles. From the look on the former sheriff's face, he was expecting a reunion much more amiable than it was turning out to be, and he was confused why it wasn't. Daryl looked like he was about to bite his head off.

"Relax," she ordered, announcing herself as she tried to fall back into the guise of the Councilor. It was easier with more people around, not focusing on him. "That's my fault too. We need to move, there's walkers behind me," she said pointing with her thumb over her shoulder. She pointedly ignored everyone to rush into the home they'd stayed in the night before and walked to where she'd thrown her damaged clothes, only to find them missing.

She panicked exiting the building in a huff to see that no one had really moved from where she'd left them moments before. "Where are my clothes? My coat?"

The French woman lifted her head from where she rested it on her nephew as she hugged him. "I burned them, it's the best way–"

"Did you empty the pockets first?" she interrupted.

The woman furrowed her brows. "No, they were covered in the blood from the burner. I–"

Beth squeezed her eyes shut and held back a screech of frustration. "Where's the med kit?" she bit out, walking towards the truck that still held most of the bag they'd collected the day before. She was already starting to feel dizzy from the run through the woods, and now there was this on top of all the other shit going on to make her head throb with pain. She hadn't been without something for her migraines in years.

She threw open one of the back doors and started rooting through the packs on the floorboards. "What's wrong?" the young French boy asked.

She grimaced. "What's wrong is that I was shot in the head." The quickly forming blurry vision stopped her from seeing the looks on their faces as she said this, but she could imagine the shock. "And now she burned the only pain pills I had with me." She closed the eyes that could no longer see anything but blobs of color and leaned against the cold metal of the truck, breathing heavy. The cool temperature helped a minuscule amount.

"I'm sorry," Isabelle's voice tried to soothe from much closer than she'd expected. "What can we do–"

"Don't touch me!" the young blonde spit out as she felt a hand move across her shoulder. It removed itself quickly.

From the other side of the vehicle Rick shouted. "Walkers!" Well obviously. She did tell them.

The hand that reached out to her before came back and gently nudged her into the vehicle. "Children, you too. Inside," the woman instructed.

Her head pounded with the slamming of the car door as the car jostled more than it should. "Judith, what–" She couldn't stand opening her eyes but she had to know what was going on.

"We climbed over the seat into the back. Isabelle's trying to get to the driver's door, mom and dad are fighting them off." She paused. "I can't see Uncle Daryl." Her heart plummeted. She couldn't lose him seconds after finding him. "Um.."

"Laurent," the boy answered.

The girl must have been looking at him. "Hand me that bag, I'll see if there's any medicine in it we can use."

A door in the front of the truck opened before shutting just as fast. "Mon Dieu, il y en a tellement," (God, there are so many) the woman whispered, starting up the engine so that they could flee as soon as they were able. Something slammed against the side of the vehicle and she jumped, peaking her eyes open for just a moment, not able to focus on anything.

One after another the doors on either side of her opened and she was jostled around as bodies fell into her, a hand clamping down on her thigh. She made to scream before Daryl's gruff voice came from her left. "Just us. Get outta here!" he yelled at the driver.

The truck sped off over bumps she assumed to be bodies, making a sharp turn that had her halfway in Daryl's lap. They both made a noise at the contact before being jerked the other direction as Isabelle made another turn. The French lady really knew how to drive.

A hand came up from behind her as she heard pills jumbled against plastic. "Tylenol, I think? It's in French. Will that work?" Judith offered.

She lifted her hand to attempt grabbing at the bottle when her knuckles met another, warmer pair doing the same. He took the offering and she heard him shake out a few into his hand before finding hers again and depositing the medicine in her grip. "Got some water in–"

She lifted her hand and dry-swallowed the tablets in one go. "I'm good."

The truck fell silent, and stayed that way until hours later when they reached wherever it was they were going. Whether that was for her benefit or because no one wanted to argue in such tight quarters, it allowed her to keep her eyes closed and doze as her migraine required.

When they finally rolled to a stop, the worst of her headaches had calmed but she was still a awhile away from feeling completely functional again. She opened her eyes when she hear the first door open. "Where's this?" Rick asked.

"Le Nid, The Nest. Home," Isabelle answered. "We have to leave the truck here and walk the rest."

More doors opened including the back hatch as they let the children out and grabbed whatever bags were stored there. She stayed seated blinking away what she could of the fuzzy vision and adjusting to the light. To her right, Michonne leaned down into the open doorway. "You coming?" Beth turned to look at her before nodding, and climbed from the truck.

All around her was sand and sky. She spun around to take in the view and saw a fortress in the distance that must be the home mentioned. She sighed and saw Daryl staring at her from the corner of her eye. She looked down and tried to muster some of the person she'd been living as for the past ten years. She wasn't as successful as she'd like.

While the others all moved towards the castle, the two of them stood still. She saw the others turn back as if to wait for them, Isabelle rushed them along with something she said. They were too far away for her to hear.

He waited until the others were a good length away before he asked. "How long?" She kept her body facing away but turned her gaze on him, head skewed in a question. "How long've you known where we were? That we were alive?" His voice was soft like he was looking for something reasonable, but it held a bite as well.

She swallowed and stayed silent, turning back away from him. It was answer enough. He took in her lack of response and she could feel his eyes examining her, piercing her skin like a laser.

"Why?"

He stared as he waited for her to answer, eyes boring into her to where she felt like she was on fire. He seemed to give up when none came, turning his head towards the direction the others had left in, turning his back to her.

It was the first time in what felt like hours that he removed his eyes from her and she instantly relaxed, exhaling with a loud sigh. She hadn't realized she'd been holding herself so tightly. "You killed for me," she whispered to the waves. "I was worried you'd die for me too."