Author's Note: Hey guys! Shit is getting intense! I hope you enjoy. Btw if any of my lovely readers have Tumblr, you can follow my purely bethyl blog which is ohbethyl. I mean that'd be awesome if you did! And lemme me know on there what you think of my story. If you already follow me, woah, hey!

The car eventually slowed to a halt as they entered a small town and passed a pokey, hidden corner shop.
"Man I am starved and it's another thirty minutes back to the prison," the driver complained, his hand hung lazily through the window and he signalled to the other car to stop. His fingers bent into an arrow as he wordlessly instructed his friends to enter the shop.

Another thirty minutes to the prison? Beth gaped at Daryl who was now slouched against the window, awake, but in pain.
"We ran so far, Daryl," Beth whispered, remembering the agonising journey from the battlefield their home had become to the farmhouse they'd set up in.

"What was that?" The cruel man in the passenger seat asked with faux interest intonating his tone, a hand raised dramatically to his ear as if he was a star in a Broadway show.

"Nothing."

All but one of the men headed into the shop to scavenge, each of them vocalising what it was they hoped was inside: beer, cigarettes, Cheetos, Fruit Loops. Fat chance, Beth smirked. She rolled her eyes when she heard their childish laughs as one man exclaimed he had his hopes set on a porno mag, left behind in the abandoned store as an unnecessary waste of backpack space for the people this World had born.

"Girls nowadays, they're alright for a good fuck but they ain't clean or sexy like in the magazines, you get me? I just like to look, what!" He snorted, much to the amusement of the other's.

The man that had knocked Daryl out had stayed behind and was now leaned against the hood of the SUV, occasionally turning around to smile cruelly at Beth, his unnerving grin holding a thousand promises he was making to her, to himself, promises that she couldn't bear thinking about. He was that type of guy, she could tell. Slimey, creepy. She didn't want to imagine what would happen to her in a camp full of murderous men, a camp full of men like him. She softly began to cry, tears trickling silently down her cheeks for a while before Daryl even noticed, and when he did he was unsure of what to say.

"Beth?" He whispered, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it. She looked at him, her watery eyes connecting with his, his that were clear as the sky above and a very similar colour.
"Shhh, it's okay," he cooed, his words stuttered and awkward. She laughed breathily through her tears at his unexpectedly sweet voice. But then her expression changed. Her face scrunched up as she stifled a louder cry, her shoulders heaving now as the tears rained harder.

"I'm... I'm sorry. This is all my fault, if I hadn't ta', if I wasn't so stupid, never have gone out..." She stammered and it took Daryl a moment to understand her point.

"Nah, nah. Don't blame yerself, this ain't your fault." Daryl mumbled, offering the blonde a small smile of reassurance. "You remember what you told me that first night at that farmhouse? When you were trashed on one glass of wine?" Daryl smirked, his grin unusually chirpy for the situation they found themselves in.

"Don't remind me," Beth smiled tightly in response, the memory of Daryl Dixon's taste and touch buzzing across her brain.

"Well, you told me you have a dream, yeah? That we'll find somewhere safe and we'd have farm animals and crops and comfy beds and music?"
Beth stared at him blankly, all the emotion that usually coloured her face drained from her body. She felt too guilty at this point to confess to the man before her that she didn't believe in that dream at that moment in time. She was the hopeful one out of the two, she knew that sometimes her faith was Daryl's lifeline. How could she take that from him when it was her fault they were here? They were staring death in the face, threatened by the Governor's men, the people that had killed and displaced her family. She had to pretend, for Daryl.

"Yeah, I remember, Daryl. We'll get out of here and we'll start looking," she smiled tightly, her eyelashes blinking rapidly to hold back the flood behind. But Daryl could see through her like glass. His eyebrows knitted and his face contorted into obvious discomfort as he sat up slowly and nodded towards a knife one of the men had left on the seat.
"No, we will get out of here. C'mon," he whispered.

The greasy man still stood at the hood of the car, whistling to himself as he lit a cigarette. He was whistling so loudly Beth was sure all the walkers near by were headed straight for them, but at least the noise was useful to mask the sound of Daryl's car door open. Beth stayed where she was, knife in hand, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Daryl to creep up behind the guy and tackle him. Her hand rested on the door handle and her foot was poised ready to kick it open. Daryl met her eyes briefly and she could see him counting down in his head.

1...2...3... Go!

He stuffed one hand over the man's mouth and cursed internally as he felt the cigarette burn his hand before it felt to the floor. His arm was still wrapped up in a sling so he had difficulty holding the man back with one arm, but Beth was there too now. She raised a finger to her lip to quiet him. If the situation had been slightly less urgent Daryl might've fantasised about she looked with her finger pressed to her mouth, her lips parted slightly as she made a "shush" sound.

"Keep your mouth shut and we won't kill you," her eyebrow quirked in surprise to her own dominating voice.

"Hey, Beth, pass me that smoke," Daryl motioned to the still burning cigarette on the ground. She flashed him a look that said seriously as she reluctantly retrieved it from the floor and passed it to him. He raised it to his mouth as it he was going to take a drag but took it away at the last second and stabbed it into the man's cheek.

"That's for cracking me over the head, you dumb fuck," Daryl growled into his ear. Sensing the man was about to blow, Beth grabbed the gun from the holster on his hip and kicked him straight in the groin. Daryl let him go and the man fell to the floor, groaning in pain.

"That's for destroying my family."

"Beth, c'mon we gotta run," Daryl grabbed her arm but she stayed rooted to the spot, staring down at the man that writhed on the ground at her feet. She froze. Her eyebrows furrowed intensely, madness swirling in her blue eyes. a sheen of sweat swept across her face; her own words had tipped her over the edge. He destroyed my family.

"Fuck's sake, girl. Come on!" He tugged her harder. The next thing he realised was Beth had reached down and stuck the knife she was holding into the man's skull. Tears were streaming down her face but her eyes were still ice cold somehow.

Daryl was speechless as the girl wordlessly took his free hand and pulled him down the road. But they ran merely 20 metres before the rest of the men came running out of the store, guns blazing and yelling voices. Bullets bounced at Beth and Daryl's feet as they zig-zagged down the road, narrowly avoiding the walkers who had been drawn to the commotion. Daryl heard an engine roar behind them and instantly knew it was over. The car zoomed past them and swerved to a halt to block them in. They tried to dive into the trees but a small herd of walkers blocked them at every turn.

"YOU FUCKER, YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!" The driver bellowed as he kicked Daryl to the ground. He let out a groan as he landed on his broken arm.

"He didn't kill him! It was me!" Beth screamed when the man didn't cease his attack on Daryl. The man kicked him again in the ribs before turning to face Beth, a humourless grin on his face.

"You? A scrawny little bitch like you killed my brother? Girl, you're a streak of piss," the man spat. "I don't believe you. Liar."

The way he uttered that word transported her right back to the moment her daddy was killed, and adrenaline mixed with rage deluged her every nerve ending, giving her the strength to punch the guy straight in the nose. He stumbled backwards, gripping his face as blood began to pour down his chin.

"You fucking whore, just you fucking wait!" He growled, a cruel smile grew on his red-stained lips as he reached out and yanked her close to him by her hair.

Author's Note: Oh no! One day, perhaps something good will happen for our babies. Today is not that day! And I am cruel. I'm sorry.