Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

Ch.1

She was running, but she didn't know how long she had been running. Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Time was irrelevant; it just seemed to pass without her really knowing. All she knew is that she had to run, and she couldn't stop. She had to run as fast and as far as her weak legs would carry her. She had to get away.

Her knife was tightly clutched in her hand. It was her lifeline, the only defense she had left. The blade bloody, just like her hands. It was the only thing keeping her safe from the walkers, the only reason she wasn't back in that room.

The low, guttural growls had grown silent, but still she kept running. It wasn't the walkers she was afraid of anymore; it was the people. Walkers were predictable. They only wanted one thing: your flesh. You could outrun walkers, hide from them, and easily kill them. But people were different. They had hidden agendas. You couldn't trust them. They were dark, more monstrous than the dead that roamed the earth.

She suddenly became aware of the fading daylight and the cramping of her legs. Every muscle in her body ached. She didn't want to, but she knew that she needed to stop; she needed to rest. So reluctantly she slowed her pace until she was walking.

She didn't know what to do. She was alone. There was nobody here to protect her or guide her through things. Daryl wasn't there to coach her through making a fire or finding a safe place to sleep. Maggie wasn't there to tell her that everything was going to be alright. It was just her, and all she wanted to do was curl into herself and cry. She wanted to cry for everything she'd been through, for everything that had been done to her, for everything and everyone she'd lost. But she didn't get to cry anymore. There was no time for crying; there was only time for surviving. She took a few deep breaths and collected herself, giving her a moment to organize her thoughts and priorities.

Fire. She needed to make a small fire. It would help keep her warm throughout the night and allow her to see any approaching danger. The only problem was that she didn't know how to make a fire without a mirror and glass. She had watched Daryl do it dozens of times, and so she tried to remember everything he did.

Beth walked around the area looking for anything dry that she could use for tinder. She found dry leaves and sticks, but there wasn't much else. She arranged the tinder into a nest. She took the largest stick she had and used her knife to carve a small notch in it. Next she took another stick and placed it in the notch, and holding the stick between her two palms, she began to roll it back and forth.

She was mimicking Daryl's every move, but her hands were shaking and she was already exhausted. Her eyes were searching for a spark, for the smoke that would tell her that she had been successful, but it never came. She couldn't start the fire, and suddenly the reality of her situation came crashing down on her.

Without a fire she couldn't cook any food she was able to catch, if she could even hunt anything with just a knife. She could already feel the temperature dropping, and it was only going to get colder. She could barely see anything around her as the sun continued to set. All she had was a knife to protect her, and she could only depend on herself.

Beth leaned back against a tree and pulled her knees to her chest, tightly holding her knife in her hand. She needed to stay awake. She couldn't fall asleep. Her heart was racing and her body was still running on adrenaline, but she could feel the rush fading, and as it faded her eyes started to droop until they were too heavy to keep open any longer and sleep won over.

She woke with a start, a scream strangled in her throat, but she wouldn't let it escape. She looked around her, taking in her surroundings. She was safe, she wasn't in that room, and despite her falling asleep, no walkers had stumbled upon her makeshift camp.

One look at the sky told her that she had slept through the night. The sun was just beginning to peak through the leaves over her head, but the sky was still dim. She knew that she couldn't stay here all day, but she desperately wanted to. The grumble of her stomach coaxed her into moving. She couldn't remember the last time she had had anything to eat, and her body was craving for food, for water; it was slowly running out of energy to keep her moving.

Beth slowly stood up, her legs aching from running for so long. She still didn't know how long she had been out here, but she knew that it had at least been one day. She knew that she wouldn't be able to kill anything with just her knife, and Daryl had never gotten around to showing her how to set snares, but there were edible plants out here.

She continued walking further into the woods. She wouldn't go back in the direction that she had come from. The only way she could move was forward, away from the horror story that she had left behind. She walked until her ears heard the faint sound of trickling of water. She followed the sound until she found the source; a small stream.

Beth fell to her knees, her throat on fire. She knew it was probably a bad idea to drink straight from the stream. Daryl's voice was in the back of her head telling her that she needed to boil the water first, but she couldn't get a fire started. She placed her hands in the stream, the water turning red from the blood on her hands. She quickly washed the blood away and then stood up, Daryl's voice winning her internal battle. She would walk a little further and try to find food. If she couldn't get a fire started she would come back to the stream and get a drink.

She didn't have to walk far to find what she was looking for. Grapes. The same kind that she had found with Daryl shortly after escaping the prison. She had grabbed them back then, saying that whenever they found who they were tracking they would need food, but in reality she had been trying focus her mind somewhere else than on Daryl's words about faith and her father. Now she was in desperate need for them, her stomach painful from its lack of food.

She hastily started to pick them off of their vines, popping a few in her mouth as she went. She didn't have a bag to put them in, and if she put them in her pockets they would only get smashed. She ate as many as she could, which wasn't many. She had been starving, but as soon as she started eating the fruit, her hunger had been replaced with a heavy sinking feeling in her stomach.

After she decided that she couldn't eat anymore she began to walk again. By now the sun was high in the sky, and she guessed that it was noon. She noticed that the trees around her were starting to thin, and she could make out something in the distance.

Coming out of the woods she saw railroad tracks. She looked them up and down and noticed a sign. She cautiously moved closer to read it. "Sanctuary for all, community for all." There was also a map with an area circled in the middle of it. Terminus. But that wasn't what had caught her attention. Scrawled in red walker blood was another message. "Glenn, go to Terminus. –Maggie, Sasha, Bob."

* * *

_ "Got her chained up nice and good. She ain't going nowhere."_

_ She heard her captor's voices from behind the closed door as she struggled against the rope on her wrists. She was in a room, but it was almost pitch black. The light the man had turned on when he had walked in was now off. Not that the light would have helped any; her eyes were blindfolded, making it impossible to see._

_ She was desperately pulling against the rope, but it was tied to something. She couldn't move far from where she was. Her head hurt; every inch of her hurt. She had been here for a while, probably two or three days, but she couldn't be sure know how long, and she didn't know what the man wanted from her. She was waiting; waiting for Daryl. She wasn't going to give up her hope. She stopped struggling when she heard more of the conversation taking place in a room just a few feet from where she was._

_ "So, you think the two of 'em were playin' house there?" a gruff voice asked. She didn't recognize it, but she had a feeling she would grow accustomed to it._

_ "Maybe. That man was probably just pickin' a spot to get some tail for the night," another man responded._

_ "Think he made it?"_

_ Beth heard a man's low chuckle and a glass slam onto a hard surface. "Nah. You see all those biters?"_

_ Biters? Is that what they called walkers? Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard something that immediately caught her attention. _

_ "We know he made it out of the house. He was chasin' after the car."_

_ "She must be good then if he was that determined."_

_ All of the men laughed at that, and Beth should have felt sick to her stomach at what they were implying, but she wasn't. Her mind was elsewhere. Daryl had made it out. He had chased after the car they had put her in; he had been chasing after her. He was looking for her. She knew that he wouldn't be able to catch up to a car, but he could track. He could track the car to wherever she was. She just had to wait. She had to hold on a little while longer. Daryl was coming for her. He would find her. She knew it._

_ Beth leaned back against the wall and continued listening to their conversation. They were still laughing, but the laughter was dying out. They were talking about Daryl still._

_ "They were probably headin' to Terminus."_

_ "Well, if that's where he's going he might as well be dead," a man scoffed._

_ Terminus? They hadn't heard of it. She had no idea what they were talking about. They hadn't been going there. They had been trying to find someplace to stay._

_ "Probably saw the signs on the tracks. 'Terminus. Sanctuary for all, community for all,'" the man said mockingly. "That's just a bunch a bullshit."_

_ "Those people there are a bunch of psychopathic lunatics. Offerin' sanctuary and then chompin' down on the people that go there."_

_ "Gotta eat somehow," a man laughed._

_ "Yeah, well, that's not exactly my idea of a five star meal."_

* * *

She looked at the sign again, her mind finally clearing from the memory of those men and their conversation. Maggie had made it out of the prison, and so had Sasha and Bob. She knew that she was nowhere near the prison, so they had traveled far, which meant that they had been able to survive; they had enough supplies to keep them going, and they had a destination.

She prayed to a god that she no longer believed in that they hadn't gone there, but if they had she knew that they would never make it out. They were as good as dead. She knew they were dead. And even if they were alive, she would never want to meet up with her family from the prison ever again. They wouldn't accept her anymore, and she knew it. She had changed. She wasn't the girl they had known, and she would never be that person again. So instead of following the tracks and making her way to Terminus with the hopes of reuniting with her sister, she crossed the tracks and disappeared back into the woods, hoping that nobody would ever find her.

**Author's Note: So here is the first chapter of my newest story, "Changed." The title is just a working title...it may change if I find I'm not happy with it.**

**Anyway, this story is a bit different than my other two, "A Fighting Chance" and "Ruined." "Changed" will have flashbacks. You may be asking why? Well, I don't want you to know exactly what has happened to Beth or exactly how she has escaped; I want it to remain a sort of mystery. As the story goes on, there will be more flashbacks, and more will be revealed about her abduction, captivity, and escape. All flashbacks will in in italics.**

**Please let me know what you think. Do you like it? Should I continue writing it?**

**Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Ch.2

She had been walking through the woods when she had first seen it through the trees. At first she didn't know what it was, but as she got closer she realized that it was a cabin, probably a hunters cabin. The weeds were growing wild, climbing up to reach the windows, and loose boards hung from the frame.

She approached the cabin cautiously. She didn't think that anyone was staying there, but you could never be certain. She peaked through one of the windows and saw that the small, one-roomed cabin was empty. The door creaked as she opened it, and she cringed at the noise, hoping that it wasn't loud enough to draw any walkers to her.

Standing in the doorway as her eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light, she began scanning the room. There was a twin-sized bed in the corner, a small table, a stove, a refrigerator, and dozens of taxidermied animals, most likely the previous owner's trophies. Beth slowly walked in, closing and locking the door behind her.

She walked over and laid down on the bed, planning on just resting for a few minutes, but before she knew it, she was opening her eyes to the dusky morning light streaming in through the windows. She wasn't scared, she wasn't afraid, and other than the aches in her body, everything seemed alright. She could stay here for a little while; she could make this work. She would be alone, nobody would ever have to find her, and the cabin offered a safety that she thought she would never feel again.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling sounds coming from her stomach. She had only had a few berries, and her body was craving more. Walking over to the refrigerator she opened it to find it empty; not that it would have mattered, the generator that had once provided electricity for this cabin had quit working long ago, and she would have no idea how to fix it. She began opening the cabinets and almost cried when she found a box of granola bars. She didn't hesitate to rip the box open and grab the last remaining granola bar, eating it in a manner of seconds. But still her body was needing more; she desperately needed water.

She walked back outside, knowing that there had to be a water source nearby if someone had been staying here for any amount of time. It didn't take her long to find it. It was a water pump, like the one they had back at the farm. She cranked the rusted handle a few times, getting nothing, but after a few minutes of pumping, water started to spurt out. She quickly grabbed the bucket sitting on the ground and filled it up. Once gain she went back inside, carrying the bucket full of water with her. She grabbed a glass and greedily drank the water. Her throat had been dry, but the water instantly eased it.

She decided that it would be best to look around the cabin again to see what supplies the owner had left. There was a half empty box of matches on the counter. But the thing that made her the most excited and gave her hope that she could make it was the book on how to set snares. If she could figure out how to set a snare, she would be able to eat meat.

Feeling her eyes starting to get heavy again, she grabbed the chair and pushed it under the doorknob. If anyone came across the cabin she wanted to make sure that they couldn't get in. She went back over to the bed and drifted off into a deep sleep.

She didn't know how long she had been sleeping, but she woke up to her own screams echoing through the room. Her heart was racing and her skin was broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly this cabin, which had felt safe and secure, now felt dangerous. It felt like that room they had kept her in. She was suffocating in it. She couldn't stay in here. She knew it was stupid, and she could practically hear Daryl screaming at her to suck it up and stay, but she couldn't do it. Every second she stayed in here was a second too long.

She shot up out of the bed in a panic. If she was going to leave she could at least be smart enough to bring supplies with her. She grabbed a bag in the corner that had long since been forgotten and began throwing things into it. She grabbed the matches, a pot so she could boil water, and before she ran out of the door, she grabbed the book on how to set snares.

She flung the chair holding the door closed to the side, making a loud clatter that rang through the room, and darted. It was starting to get dark out. She thought about going back and staying until it was morning, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around. She had to get away.

Eventually she stopped running. She still had no idea where she was, and she didn't know how far she had run. No longer tired, she sat down on the ground, deciding it best to stay in one place for the night. She would start moving again in the morning.

It didn't take her long to realize her mistake. The cabin had offered her safety; four walls to keep the walkers out, and four walls that would hide her from human contact. The cabin had offered her a place to sleep and a source of water. Out here, out in the middle of nowhere, she had nothing.

She had been out here for another three days, and things weren't good. She only had one match left, and while she had been able to boil some water, she didn't have anything to put it in to save it for later. She'd barely been sleeping, too afraid that the moment she fell asleep walkers would find her or her dreams would haunt her.

She was studying the book on how to set snares. She had read through it at least twice, and she was coming to the realization that there was no way she could set a snare. She didn't have the supplies. She needed wire to make the noose, or something similar to wire. She was thinking about what she could use when a thought hit her. She looked over at the bag she had grabbed. It was an outdoor bag, made to last. The stitching was strong, strong enough to keep the bag together through the elements and the wear and tare.

Grabbing her bag, she emptied it, the matchbox, pot, and the berries she had been picking along the way falling out of it. She took her knife and carefully began to unstitch the materials, being careful not to cut it and ruin the only thing she could use. Once she had unstitched it and had a long, thick string, she looked at the book again. It took her a few tries, but she eventually was able to make the overhead knot the book described.

She found two hard sticks that branched off, like the ones shown in the pictures. She tied the noose to the stick labeled engine and stuck the stick labeled base into the ground. Then she used the sections of the sticks that branched off to make them interlock.

She tied the stitching to a nearby sapling. The other end of the stitching was carefully tied to the base, causing the sapling to bend like the ones in the book. She arranged the noose on the ground. She stood back and looked at her snare, a smile forming on her face. Looking at the berries on the ground from her bag, she grabbed a few and set them in the noose, hoping it would draw the attention of an animal. Now she just had to wait.

She picked her knife up again and grabbed the pot. An animal wasn't going to come around if she was here, so she might as well do something productive. She knew that there was a stream nearby. She had been following it the last few days, making sure to always keep it to her left. She'd fill the pot with water and come back and check the snare before boiling the water. Maybe she could go to sleep with a full stomach tonight.

As she walked she started to believe that maybe she could make it out here. She had a pot to boil water and she was confident in the snare she had just set. Her next challenge would be starting a fire after she used her last match. But right now she wasn't going to worry about that; her mind kept returning to the thought of eating an actual meal, something that would give her energy.

Returning to her makeshift camp for the night, she set the pot down and went to check the snare. Her heart sank when she saw it. The berries were gone and the snare hadn't fired, the noose still sitting loosely on the ground. She could see the small prints of a rabbit, more evidence that an animal had in fact been there. Her snare hadn't worked. She'd done something wrong.

She went back over to the pot of water and grabbed the book. She looked it over again, studying the pictures and every step. She'd done exactly what it'd said to do, but it hadn't worked, and she had no idea why.

If she couldn't have a meal tonight she could at least have some water. She gathered a few twigs and dry leaves and grass and took the last match, striking it against the matchbox. The flame went out almost as quickly as it had lit. She stared at the match in disbelief, unable to move or do anything. She started striking against the matchbox over and over again in a futile attempt to get it to light again, even though she knew it wouldn't.

And suddenly any hope she had was drained out of her. Her last match was gone. Her only hope at eating something decent had failed her. She had a pot but no way of boiling water. She didn't have anywhere safe to sleep. She mentally cursed herself for not staying at the cabin.

Sighing angrily she took the snare book and threw it as far from her as possible. She put her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to keep herself from crying. She couldn't fall apart, not now. Even if everything seemed hopeless she couldn't just give up.

Once again she grabbed her knife and stood up. There was no point staying here anymore. She could at least keep moving. As she walked, her stomach started to growl and she picked some berries, popping them into her mouth absentmindedly, attempting to fill the void.

This is how it went for the next two days. She was relying on berries, not having any water to drink, and her body was finally reacting to her lack of nutrition and water. She was eating another handful of berries when the wave of nausea swept over her. She doubled over, emptying what little was left in her stomach. She couldn't keep the berries down anymore.

She walked for a few more hours before she was too exhausted to continue. She felt dizzy, and she knew it was because she was dehydrated. She sat down, leaning against a tree, struggling to keep her eyes open. Eventually she lost the fight to stay awake and drifted off to sleep.

She probably wouldn't have woken up if it weren't for the snapping of a branch too close for her liking. The steady shuffling of feet over the grass and fallen leaves alerted her that the noise had come from a walker. And the steady moans growing louder told her that it was more than one.

She shot up into a standing position, checking to make sure that her knife was still in her hand. She took a moment to look around and allow the dizziness to fade from her head. She could already see five walkers shuffling towards her, and that was enough to get her moving. There was no way she could take on five walkers by herself, not in the condition she was in.

As she ran it became apparent that the five walkers weren't alone. They started appearing on all sides of her. She was in the middle of a herd and the only thing she had to protect herself was her knife.

She quickly tried to dodge a walker that lunged at her, but her lack of water was making her movements sluggish and it managed to grab her arm and knock her to the ground. The walker fell on top of her, pinning her legs beneath it as its hands grabbed at her shit, trying to pull itself up to the exposed flesh of her neck. She tried to kick it off of her, but it was too heavy and too determined to get a meal.

Just as it was about to bite into her neck she took her knife and stabbed it in its head with all of her strength, the blade pushing through its fragile skull and piercing the brain. Its warm, thick blood dripped from its head and onto Beth. Pulling the knife from the walker and forcefully pushing it away from her, she stood up and started running. The noise from the struggle had drawn the attention of the other walkers, and they were now moving towards her.

She was running as fast as she could, but the walkers just kept appearing. She did her best to stay out of their way, but it was unavoidable. She didn't know how many she had killed, but it was a lot, and her arm was burning from the constant thrusting of her blade into decaying skulls.

She kept running, the herd slowly thinning out until it was just her and the woods. But still she kept running. She couldn't bring herself to stop. The herd had come in the dark, but now the sun was shining bright. She could feel the tears rolling down her face, and her lungs were burning, struggling to get air.

She broke through the trees. The rough, uneven ground covered in grass and fallen branches became hard, grey pavement. She collapsed to her knees, her body exhausted. She couldn't run anymore. She couldn't fight. She was perfectly content dying right where she was if another herd came through, knowing that her body was too exhausted to move anymore.

**Author's Note: So you're probably thinking to yourself "Beth, why in the world would you leave that cabin?!" Yeah, I don't blame you for thinking that. But, you have absolutely no idea what happened to her. As the story goes on you will find out. She is traumatized, and being in that cabin became too much for her, and even though she knew it was a reckless decision to leave, she just had to get out of there.**

**Also, this chapter had a lot of up and downs...a lot of hope followed by a lot of despair. It started on a high note. She found a cabin, someplace safe, someplace she could stay. And then this safe place wasn't safe for her anymore and she left. She had matches, a pot, a knife, a bag, and a book to teach her how to set snares. She was feeling hopeful and she actually believed that she could survive. And then that snare just couldn't work and the match had to go out before she got the fire started. To top it all off she ran into a huge herd of walkers. Now she is on a road and is ready to give up. She's exhausted and her body can't take much more. **

**Let me just say, I am extremely excited for the next chapter. I have it all planned out and have already started to write it. I think you will like it, too!**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**

**Oh, and thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows for Ch.1!**


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.3

It had been three weeks since they had gotten out of the train car and nearly four weeks since he had lost Beth. As soon as they had escaped Terminus, Daryl was on a mission to find Beth. It was his fault that she was missing, and now it was his responsibility to find her.

He had retraced his steps back to the funeral home, hoping against hope that she would be there, or that there would be some sign of where she had been taken. His mind had been racing when he had first ran from the house and saw the car screeching away, taking Beth with it, but now he had had time to clear his thoughts, to think things through. He followed the path of the car to the fork in the road, and again he discovered that he was lost. There was no sign anywhere, no tracks that he could follow. He wanted to collapse to the ground again, but he couldn't give up. He decided to lead the group down the road he hadn't been down.

And that's how they were where they were now, still following the road. Any house or building they came upon they would search, looking for any sign of Beth; a lock of her blond hair, a boot print, a piece of clothing, a drop of blood. But they never found anything, and it had been days since they had last come across a building to search; the woods now lined the road.

He had thought of every possible situation that Beth could be in, and each one was worse than the last. This world caused some people to lose their humanity, and there was no telling what they were capable of. Every morning he sent a prayer up to a god he wasn't sure he believed in, and every night he did the same. He prayed that he would find Beth. He prayed that she wasn't hurt, and that he would get to her before anything happened to her. He also prayed that if he was too late, that if whoever had taken her had hurt her in any way, that if she was suffering, that God would end her pain, that he would let her be at peace. He hated himself for asking for that, but he didn't want Beth to suffer.

They were taking a break. Everyone was tired, so they stopped in the middle of the road. Daryl sat down, setting his crossbow beside him. Maggie took a seat next to him. She hadn't left his side since he had told her about Beth. She had been angry with him, furious even, but she had forgiven him. She told him that it wasn't his fault, that there was nothing he could do. But he knew that she was wrong. It was all his fault. He had promised her that he would get her back, that she would see her sister again, and he was determined to keep that promise.

Most everyone was quiet. As the days dragged on, their hopes in finding Beth had dwindled. He could see it in their faces, in the looks they gave him, but they never said anything. Abraham was rambling on about needing to get Eugene to Washington, D.C. At first he hadn't protested looking for Beth; in fact he had been a willing participant in the search for her. He had said that he owed them for getting Rosita, Eugene, and him out of Terminus. Now he was getting anxious. He wanted to get a move on, and he was starting to doubt that Beth was still alive. Daryl overheard him telling Rick that he was only going to stay a few more days, and if they didn't find the girl he was leaving.

Daryl was broken from his thoughts when he heard a rustling in the woods. Everyone turned to where the noise was coming from. On instinct, Daryl stood, picking up his crossbow and aiming it in the direction of the noise. His finger was on the trigger, about to pull it to kill the approaching walker, but he hesitated when it came out of the woods.

The figure fell to its knees, hitting the ground hard, using it's arms to hold itself up. Daryl dropped his crossbow, running as fast as he could to the figure. It wasn't a walker, it was a girl, it was Beth. He dropped to his knees in front of her. She was barely recognizable. Every inch of her skin was covered in dirt and blood, the ends of her hair stained red. The only visible skin was where the tears were falling from her eyes. Her shirt was ripped and tattered, barely staying on her shoulders, and her jeans were loosely clinging to her jutting hipbones, the button missing.

She was clutching a knife in her hand, the same knife he had given to her after the prison, her knuckles white. Daryl raised his hand to her chin, gently tilting her face to look at him. Her eyes were blank and unfocused; she wasn't really seeing him. Carefully he removed the knife from her hand and scooped her up, carrying her over to the rest of the group, sitting down with her in his lap.

"Someone warm up water and bring me a rag," he yelled, never taking his eyes off of Beth.

He barely registered Maggie rushing over to him and kneeling down beside him. Her hand reached out to brush the hair out of Beth's face, but she immediately stopped her movements when she saw Beth flinch away from her touch, trying to push herself as close to Daryl as possible. Daryl looked at Maggie and he saw the worry written all over her face.

Looking back down at Beth, he studied her face. Her eyes were still blank and she was looking straight ahead. A steady stream of tears was rolling down her face, but she wasn't making a sound or moving.

Daryl looked around at the rest of the group. Most of them were staring in disbelief, which only confirmed his suspicions that most of them thought Beth was dead. Carol was building a fire and starting to warm up a pot of water. The group had found Carol, Tyreese, and Judith two days after they had made it out of Terminus. They had vaguely told them what had happened to Lizzie and Mika, and nobody questioned the actions they took to protect Judith. Rick welcomed Carol back into the group, never mentioning that she had been the one to kill Karen and David. The past was the past. They needed to move on and forget what had happened.

As soon as Carol brought the pot of warm water over to Daryl and handed him a rag he began to clean Beth as best he could. He hadn't noticed at first; perhaps he had been too caught up in the moment, maybe his emotions had been clouding his thoughts and had caused his mind to overlook the blood coating Beth's skin. Beth wasn't covered in just walker blood, but also human blood. In fact, it was mostly human blood that stained her clothes and had congealed on her skin.

Every wipe of the cloth over her skin revealed a new horror. Bruises littered her body. Some of them were in the shape of a hand, the fingers wrapping around her arms, leaving marks behind from where she had been grabbed too hard. He was hoping that it was a walker's hand that had left those marks. She had too many cuts and scrapes to count, but none of them would have been cause for the amount of blood on her.

He moved from cleaning her arms to cleaning her face. He delicately wiped the blood and dirt from her cheeks, erasing the trails her tears had left. He noticed that she had a busted lip that was almost done healing. Her right eye had a light bruise just underneath it.

When he was finally done cleaning her, he placed the rag back into the water that was now a deep shade of dirty red. He looked at her skin and was pleased that he had been able to get most of the blood and dirt off of her, but the water had gotten so dirty so fast that it was impossible to completely clean her.

Looking at her shirt again, Daryl removed his angel wing vest. He unbuttoned the flannel shirt he had been wearing since before they had found the funeral home. It was dirty, but it was better than the shirt she had on. He carefully put in on her, leaving her ratted yellow polo underneath it. She was swimming in the new shirt, but it covered her.

He was wracking his brain for what to do next. His thoughts were going a million miles an hour, and he was having a hard time organizing them. He had cleaned her, but what next? Food. She must be hungry. He reached over to his bag that was sitting beside him and grabbed a granola bar out of it. He opened it and handed it to her. When she didn't take it he set it on her stomach, figuring she'd eat when she got hungry.

"I can't keep anything down," she said just above a whisper, causing Daryl to strain his ears to hear her.

Daryl nodded slowly and reached back into his bag. He pulled out his bottle of water. If she couldn't eat, maybe she could still keep down a little water. He unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to her lips. He slowly titled it back. He could tell that she was thirsty. She brought a weak hand to the bottle and tried to tip it back more, but Daryl kept the bottle firmly in place pressed against her lips. He didn't want her to drink it too fast and make herself sick.

"Take it slow," he said calmly. "Just take small sips."

When she started to cough he took the bottle back and set it aside. They could try again later. He looked over at Maggie again, whose watery eyes were glued to her younger sister. She hadn't said a word, and he assumed she was still in shock.

Bob made his way over to them and kneeled down in front of him and Beth. He had the most medical experience in the group, and Daryl trusted him with Beth and her injuries. He reached a hand out to her, but Beth flinched away from him just as she had with Maggie.

"Beth, it's me; it's Bob," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I just need to look at your injuries, okay? We need to get them cleaned, make sure they aren't too serious."

Beth didn't say anything, but when Bob gently grabbed her left arm she didn't pull it back. Daryl watched as Bob looked at her arm, inspecting every inch of it. He saw the concern on his face when he looked at her raw and bloodied wrist; her right wrist looked the same way. Daryl wasn't stupid; he knew what they were. They were ligature marks. Her wrists had been tied tightly; she had been restrained.

Bob looked over at the first aid kit he had brought with him and picked up an alcohol swab. Daryl held onto Beth a little tighter, knowing that this was going to hurt her. Bob began to methodically clean the wound, holding tight to Beth's arm when she tensed and made to move it away from him. Tears began to fall from her eyes again, but she still didn't say anything. When Bob had finished cleaning her wrist, he grabbed the roll of gauze and began to wrap her wrist. He moved on to her right wrist and did the same, wordlessly cleaning and bandaging it, completely focused on his task.

After Bob had checked Beth over, cleaning all of her cuts and scrapes that weren't hiding beneath clothing, he stood up. He looked down at Beth sadly and walked away.

Daryl returned his attention to Beth. Her eyelids were heavy, slowly drooping closed. She was struggling to stay awake, but she was doing her best to fight sleep.

"Sleep," he said to her.

Beth ignored him and continued her battle with her exhaustion.

"You can sleep now. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you now. I have you, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe. Sleep."

Beth slowly nodded and her eyes almost immediately closed. He watched as her chest slowly rose and fell, her breathing regulating. Her face relaxed and the tension in her body eased. Daryl wiped at his face, wiping away a single tear that had managed to escape. He had found her; or rather she had found him.

**Author's Note: I know that a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter, waiting for the Beth and Daryl reunion. And I know that it may not be what you were expecting. There was know big hug and neither of them confessed their love for the other. All I can say is all well.**

**This chapter finally gave us a time line. It has been four weeks since Daryl and Beth were at the funeral home and it got overrun. That's a long time to be separated from the group. If you do the math, Beth has been on her own for a few days, about a week. We know what happened during that week she was on her own, but the other three weeks are still a complete mystery. **

**Also, Daryl never gave up looking for her. One of my favorite parts of this chapter is when it talks about Daryl praying. He desperately wanted to find her, and he was praying that he would. But he was also being realistic about things. He knows what kind of people the world they live in creates, and he knew that Beth could be suffering. So he prays that if she is suffering that God ends her pain...he prays that she dies. I think that's a very powerful thing for him to do. Yes, it's very sad, and some may think it's a little weird. But to me, I kind of see it as Daryl showing how much he cares for Beth, wether that be romantically or just as really really close friends.**

**I'm already working on the next chapter, and so far it is from Daryl's POV. So expect an update relatively soon.**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think. And thank you so much for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites! My readers are the best!**


	4. Chapter 4

Ch.4

"We can't stay here. We have to find someplace to stay for a little while," Daryl said, glancing over at Beth.

Maggie had laid out a blanket just after Beth had fallen asleep, and Daryl had laid her on it after holding her for a few more hours. Maggie had stayed by her side the whole time, but she had gotten up when the group had begun discussing what they were going to do now. They had found Beth, but nobody was sure what kind of state she was in or how weak she was.

"We need someplace that we can stay just until she's better," Maggie said. "After that we can head to Washington, I guess."

Rick nodded and looked at Abraham. "I'm not saying that we're giving up going to D.C. We'll still go. But that girl, Beth, we found her, and now we have to do whatever it takes to make her better. I owe that to her…I owe that to Maggie…I owe that to her father," he said quietly but forcefully.

Abraham looked at him for a moment. "Fine. Rosita, Eugene, and I will stay with you. We'll do whatever needs to be done to keep everyone safe and get the girl healed. But once she's up and moving again and able to travel, we're going to Washington."

Rosita placed a hand on Abraham's shoulder and smiled weakly. "Thank you," she said.

Daryl wasn't sure why, and he really didn't understand it, but Rosita had wanted to find Beth just as badly as everyone else in the group who had known Beth from the prison. When Abraham had stated that they needed to keep moving, that they couldn't waste anymore time, Rosita had begun arguing with him. She wanted to stay with the group and do whatever she could to help Beth and the others. For that Daryl was thankful.

Once it was decided that everyone was staying and that they would try to find someplace to stay, they began the discussion on Beth.

"She didn't say much, but she told me that she can't keep any food down," Daryl offered.

"She probably hasn't eaten in days. She's severely dehydrated. We need to start slow. She can't eat any solid foods; they'll be too much for her, she won't be able to keep them down. We need to find soups and broths. We'll keep her on that for a little while and gradually move her into solid foods," Bob said.

"I don't think we have any soups or broths," Sasha said. "I think we only have a few cans of beans and the rest is fruit and vegetables."

"Then we'll have to find some," Rick said. "We can find a small town or something, hole up in a building there until she's better. If we find a town there has to be a grocery store. We'll get her what she needs."

Everyone remained silent for a moment, nobody wanting to be the one to bring up the inevitable. They all had seen what Beth looked like before Daryl had cleaned her. There was no way to overlook the bandages on her wrists or the bruises and cuts so clearly visible against her pale skin. Nobody knew what happened to her, Beth hadn't said anything, they could only speculate.

"That blood that was on her, that's on her clothes and dried in her hair, it's not hers," Daryl said.

"Walker blood?" Maggie asked.

Daryl shook his head. "Some of it, but most of it was human blood."

Maggie nodded solemnly, taking in a deep breath.

"And her wrists…those are ligature marks," Bob said sadly. "They're pretty bad, too. There are some deep cuts, and her wrists are raw and bloody. We're going to have to keep an eye on them, keep cleaning them so they don't get infected."

They all knew what ligature marks meant. The air around them suddenly felt ten times heavier.

"She was held against her will," Maggie said quietly, her voice shaking as she tried to hold back tears.

Glenn wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close. "Hey, don't let your mind go there. We don't know what happened yet. Don't go around speculating things. Alright?"

Maggie nodded.

"We have her back now. We just need to be there for her," Glenn said softly into Maggie's ear.

There was another moment of silence. Everyone just seemed to stare into nothingness.

Michonne was the one to break the silence. "We need to find her new clothes. Daryl's shirt will do for now, but she's going to need her own shirt. And her jeans…they're covered in blood and missing the button."

Carol looked over at Michonne. "When we find someplace to stay I can go looking for clothes. I know her sizes from doing laundry."

"I can go with you," Michonne said.

Carol nodded slowly, looking at the ground. "Thank you."

Daryl knew that Carol was taking this hard. After the farm Carol and Beth had grown close. Carol became the mother figure that Beth no longer had, and Carol happily filled that role for her, looking after Beth as she would her own daughter. Their time at the prison had only strengthened their relationship.

"We should get going soon," Abraham said, looking up at the sky. "We want to find someplace before it's dark, and the way it's been these past few days the nearest town could be miles away."

"But she's sleeping," Maggie said quietly. "Shouldn't we let her sleep? She needs to sleep."

"She needs to be someplace safe. She can sleep when we get there," Abraham said.

Maggie opened her mouth to say something, but Daryl cut her off.

"I can carry her," he said, glancing over at Beth again. "I'll carry her. That way she can still sleep."

"Are you sure?" Rick asked. "We could be walking for a while. We don't know when we'll come across another town."

"I said I'm carrying her," Daryl said defensively.

Rick nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder, offering him a weak smile.

Everyone began packing up their things. There wasn't much to pack up so it didn't take long. Daryl went over to Beth. She was sleeping, the slow rise and fall of her chest was evidence of that. He reached down and gently scooped her into his arms, careful not to wake her. Her head lulled to rest against his chest.

He hadn't noticed it when he had first carried her back to camp, but she had lost weight. She had to have. He remembered carrying her when she hurt her ankle. He remembered making a comment about her being heavier than she looked. He was joking a little when he had said that. But now, carrying Beth in his arms, he knew that she was lighter. He could feel the bones under her skin.

Daryl kept looking at her as they walked. He was studying her. Once again his mind was being filled with all of the scenarios she could have been in. He was trying to make sense of all of the blood. He was trying to figure out how long she had been out there by herself.

"We need shampoo," he said quietly, not even sure if anyone could hear him.

"Um, I think-I think I may have some in my bag. I-I don't really know, though," Maggie said.

He hadn't even noticed that she was walking beside him. He looked over at her. She was doing the same thing he had been doing. She was studying her. She wanted to know what had happened. He could only imagine the scenarios that were going through her head.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Maggie shook her head. "I don't know. I'm happy that she's back…but look at her, Daryl. What happened to her?"

Daryl nodded slowly, looking back at Beth. "We don't know yet, Maggie. We just have to wait. It might not be bad…" he said, his voice trailing off.

He wanted to believe himself. He wanted to believe that nothing bad had happened to her. But the more he thought about it, the worse it became. Eventually his thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Rick suddenly stopped, pointing ahead of them.

"There's a town," he said. "It doesn't look big…only a few buildings. We chose one and clear it and settle down for the night."

The group began to walk faster, the sun starting to set. They needed to clear a building before it was dark. They chose the first building they saw. It wasn't big. It was only two stories, brick, and didn't have many windows. The few windows that it did have weren't broken, which was a good sign.

"Daryl, Maggie, stay out here with Beth. The rest of us will clear it and come back out to get you," Glenn said before giving Maggie a quick kiss. "Everything's going to be alright," he whispered into Maggie's ear.

Daryl sighed and leaned against the building, still holding onto Beth tightly, watching as the rest of the group went inside. It didn't take long before they came back out, dragging the rotting bodies of two walkers with them.

Carol looked at him. "It's clear. I laid down a few blankets for her on the top floor."

Daryl nodded and walked inside. It was dark, but he vaguely remembered Rosita grabbing a few candles in one of the houses they had raided looking for Beth. He slowly made his way up the stairs to the second floor. It was one big open room, no walls separating it. He spotted the mound of blankets Carol had assembled for Beth and carefully set her down.

Michonne came up the stairs, the rest of the group following behind her. "Carol and I are gonna go look for some clothes for her. We'll try to find some food, too. Sasha checked…we have one can of chicken broth," Michonne said quietly.

Daryl sat down a few feet away from Beth. Everyone started to settle into what would be their new home until they got back on the road. As he suspected, Rosita grabbed a few candles from her bag, lighting them and placing them throughout the room.

"You should get some sleep," Rosita said when she sat a candle near him. "You've been carrying her all day. You have to be exhausted."

Daryl grunted in response and Rosita walked away. He wasn't going to sleep until Beth woke up and he had a chance to talk to her. He needed to know that she was okay, that she would get better.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He was afraid that the moment he looked away she would disappear. But as he watched her he saw the way her face changed. It went from being relaxed to tensing, and soon enough a strangled scream was escaping her mouth, echoing throughout the room.

He was confused at first, not knowing what was going on. When it finally clicked in his head that she was having a nightmare he rushed to her side, Maggie reaching her at the same time. He gently shook her shoulders.

"Beth. Beth, wake up," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Her eyes popped open and he breathed a sigh of relief. He helped her sit up and lean back against the wall. Her breathing was ragged and she placed her head in her hands, trying to calm herself.

"It was just a dream," she mumbled. "Just a dream."

"Are you alright?" Maggie asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Beth whispered weakly, not looking up.

"I'm going to get you something to eat, okay? Daryl will stay with you."

Beth gave a barely noticeable nod and Maggie left to go get Beth the can of broth they had. Daryl continued looking at Beth, watching as her breathing slowly returned to normal. He wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth no words came out. He was never good with words, but he had absolutely no idea what to say to her.

When Beth finally looked up, she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't actually looking at anything. She still had dark circles under her eyes.

He saw her look down at her wrists, frowning slightly when she noticed the bandages. Then her hands went to the knife sheath resting against her thigh. Her eyes widened when her knife wasn't there. She was starting to panic. Daryl quickly grabbed his bag and rummaged through it, finding her knife.

"Here, here," he said calmly, handing her knife to her. "I put it in my bag, It's right here."

Beth's shaky hand reached out and took it from him, clutching it as tightly as she was when he had first seen her. She immediately calmed down, but her body was still stiff, rigid.

He was still thinking of what to say to her, and before he even realized it, words were coming out of his mouth. "You were right. I did miss you so bad when you were gone, Beth Greene."

Beth finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his and actually seeing him, not just looking through him. "You were right, too," she said, her voice raw, probably from lack of water.

"About what?" He asked, not knowing what she was talking about.

"The good ones don't survive."

Daryl looked down. He remembered telling her that. It was when they were at the cemetery. _"I don't think the good ones survive anymore." _He'd told her that and she had swore to him that there were still good people. He was skeptical at first, but she had changed his mind. And now he knew that she what she was saying was wrong. The good ones do survive. She was here, and she was good, and she had survived.

He leaned back against the wall next to her. There were so many things that he wanted to ask, but he didn't know where to start. He didn't want to say something wrong. Would she even want to talk about what had happened? Maybe she would be too tired to talk. After a few minutes of tense silence he finally spoke.

"What happened to yah Beth?" Daryl asked, looking at her carefully.

Beth looked him directly in the eye, and spoke with a voice that was eerily calm. "I took care of myself."

**Author's Note: So there's chapter 4. They've found someplace to ****stay and now they can focus on Beth. My favorite part of this chapter is the ending. Daryl tells Beth that he missed her and Beth tells Daryl that he was right when he said that the good ones don't survive anymore, but she never went into any explanation. All she tells him is that she took care of herself.**

**The next update probably won't before for another two weeks or so...my life got really hectic really quick, but I am going to do my best to update as soon as possible.**

**Please review and tell me what you think!**


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