It had been three months. Three months since she last saw him. Three months since she had been taken – no, saved (as she had to constantly remind herself) – by Father Gabriel as Walkers descended upon her. Three months. And while she knew she should be grateful - knew she probably would have never survived the horde of Walkers that invaded the funeral home and grounds that night had Father Gabriel not grabbed her and threw her in his car - a part of her wished he had left her there waiting for Daryl. It was the part of her that missed Daryl so much her heart actually ached when she thought about him and that last night together; the part of her that remembered what his rough and calloused hand felt like in hers as they stood in the graveyard the day they found the funeral home; the part of her that remembered the look in his eyes as he gazed at her by candlelight before everything went to shit that night.

Beth turned over in the little twin bed she was sleeping in. She and Father Gabriel had taken up refuge in an old plantation home on a tract of land in a town called Taccoa in Northern Georgia. Beth had given up hope of ever seeing Daryl again. After begging Father Gabriel to return to the funeral home the day after she and Daryl were separated, he relented. But all they found there were Walkers. There was no sign of Daryl, but no sign that he was dead either. And Beth knew he wasn't. She knew Daryl was alive. She had meant it when she told him he was meant for the way the world was now; that he would be the last man standing. She had no doubt he got out and that certainty gave her some comfort even in knowing that the odds of them finding each other again were non-existent.

Beth did her best to swallow the bitterness she felt toward Father Gabriel and remember that he had saved her life. They had been doing well on their own the last three months as well – scavenging for food in empty houses and grocery stores as well as hunting and gathering. Father Gabriel, as it turned out, was something of an expert when it came to identifying edible wild plants and mushrooms, as well as setting up snares to catch small prey. Beth helped by using the tracking skills Daryl had taught her to look for game tracks, as well as fresh Walker tracks so they could avoid any hordes. They made a good survival team. But it wasn't the same as when she was with Daryl. Father Gabriel was quite a bit older than Daryl, quiet and kind, but indifferent as well and after three months, Beth still felt like she barely knew him.

Beth heard her door creak open a touch and she closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She knew that Father Gabriel was an insomniac and he would often check on her when he was unable to sleep. She knew it was sweet of him to be concerned, but she could not help feel a tug of annoyance and she knew it was because she did not like being interrupted when she was thinking about Daryl.

When the door closed and she heard Gabriel's footsteps creak down the hall, Beth opened her eyes and sat up. She felt like crying. She was doing that a lot lately. She wondered what Daryl was doing, if he was alone or if he'd found another group. She wondered if he thought of her, missed her like she missed him.

Beth stifled a sob, buried her head in her knees and let her tears flow silently down her cheeks.

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Daryl hated the night. Not just because of the added danger of walkers creeping up on the group when they were trying to sleep, but because nights when he was on watch duty – like tonight – he could not keep his mind from drifting to memories of Beth.

Daryl sat stoically against the trunk of a tree, peering out into the darkness as Rick, Maggie, Glenn and the rest of the Terminus survivors slept in the makeshift camp around him. They had been heading North for the last couple of weeks, deciding that they would make a go for Washington D.C. Tonight, they were staying along the shores of Lake Keowee in South Carolina hoping the body of water would provide them some extra protection from Walkers sneaking up on them. It seemed to be working as the group had not had any encounters since they had made camp there earlier that day.

It was going to be a long journey to D.C. and Daryl doubted it would do any damn good anyway. Sure, Dr. P might have all this shit figured out, but what did it matter if there was no one to report it to? For all anyone knew, the President, Congress, everyone who once mattered to the country were dead, so what was the point of trekking hundreds of miles, putting themselves in harms way as they confronted hordes of walkers, when it could all be for nothin'?

Daryl sighed and spit on the ground next to him. He knew the real reason he was so bitter about the journey North – leaving Georgia. He knew that the closer they got to Washington, the farther he got from ever finding Beth again.

Daryl clutched his fists and ground his teeth to try to distract himself from the ache he felt in his chest whenever he thought of Beth – her radiant smile, her soft hands playing the piano, the way she could light up a room just by being in it with him. She had awaken something in him – something he had kept buried for most of his life - Happiness, hope… love.

Daryl swallowed the lump he felt forming in his throat and cursed at himself inwardly. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about her, wondering where the hell she was and if she was ok. He prayed – actually prayed to God if God was actually out there – that whoever took Beth that night didn't hurt her. That whoever it was, was kind. The world was so damn ugly now, but there were still good people out there. Beth had convinced him of that. He just hoped that it was good people in that car that drove Beth out of his life that night. He knew it was his fault she had been taken; knew he had been stupid to just assume that it was that old mangy dog at the door before he opened it. It wasn't like him to let his guard down like that. But, the feelings that were stirring in him when he was with Beth just moments before it all went to shit threw him for a loop. He had wanted to kiss her; wanted to take her in his arms and hold her; wanted to bask in her warmth and forget that the world outside was cold and mean and dangerous. He had forgotten, for a few seconds, the reality of the world they lived in and because of that, he had opened the door and let that evil come spilling in. And, because of his stupidity, his carelessness, he lost Beth.

Daryl hastily wiped an errant tear off his cheek and looked around to make sure no one saw. He wondered if Beth had shed any tears over him – if she were still alive. He shook the thought out of his head. She had to be alive. That was the only thing keeping him going now – the fools hope that somehow, someway, he would see her again.

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Beth heard a knock at her bedroom door and heard it creak open.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought we should try to get an early start today." Father Gabriel said. Beth nodded. They were going to drive further North today, cross into South Carolina in search of provisions and maybe some sort of survivor's refuge.

Beth sat up. Her head hurt and she was tired. She had been up most of the night crying.

"Are you alright, Beth?" Father Gabriel asked, kindly.

Beth nodded. She was sure she looked like hell – she could feel the puffiness in her eyes.

Father Gabriel looked doubtful but didn't press.

"Well, when you are able, please pack up your belongings and come downstairs and we will see about getting on the road." Father Gabriel said.

Beth nodded again. As soon as Father Gabriel closed the door, she laid back down in bed, put the pillow over her head, and went back to sleep.

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"So what do you think? One more night here so we can hunt up some game for the journey?" Rick asked Daryl and Abraham. They had been discussing plans for getting back on the road that day. But, their provisions were alarmingly low and they were in a location that was rich with natural resources – water, edible flora, and ample game to hunt.

Daryl nodded and Abraham reluctantly agreed.

"Only one more night though, Rick. We gotta get moving." Abraham said.

"I understand." Rick replied. Abraham nodded and departed.

Rick turned to Daryl.

"I'll go out huntin'. I should be able to get a couple of hares. If we cook 'em tonight and keep the meat dry, it'll keep for a couple of days." Daryl said. He picked up the crossbow at his feet and turned to leave.

"Hold up a sec." Rick said. Daryl turned back to Rick. "You took watch duty all night and I know you didn't sleep the night before that either 'cause Glenn told me is saw you sitting up all night when he was on watch duty."

Daryl shrugged.

"You look like hell, Daryl, and you need to get some rest."

Daryl shrugged again.

"I'll rest when I'm dead." He said darkly before walking away.

He knew Rick was right. He also knew that Rick didn't know just how little sleep he was actually getting. But every time Daryl slept, dreams of Beth haunted him. Sometimes they were good dreams – erotic dreams that would cause him to wake with an aching erection and he would have to sneak off into the woods to take care of himself. But, most nights, the dreams were bad. He'd dream of Beth taken and tortured by some faceless stranger, or he'd have terrible visions that he found her, but she had been turned to a walker, and he'd have to put a bolt through her head. Those dreams caused him to wake with a start, drenched in cold sweat, scared to fall back asleep. So he avoided sleep as much as he could, keeping awake by sitting against cold, jagged rocks, staring out into the darkness hoping something would come by that he could kill just so he could stop thinking about her for a little while.

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Beth and Gabriel sat in silence as he drove them North. This was common. They rarely spoke when they traveled.

They had been on the road for little more than a half hour and had only just passed into South Carolina when the right front tire suddenly blew on Father Gabriel's car. The automobile jerked to the left and Father Gabriel tried his best to right it, but the car veered out of control and ended up in a ditch on the side of the road.

"Are you alright?" Father Gabriel asked Beth shakily when the careening car finally came to a stop and he had cut the engine.

Beth exhaled in relief and took a quick inventory of her body. "Ye… yeah." She replied, panting a little.

Father Gabriel unholstered the pistol he always carried around his waist and opened his car door. Beth unsheathed her knife and did the same.

The car was lodged in a ditch about three feet deep, sunken into about a foot of mud. Beth could see right away that there was no way they would be able to get it out. She looked at Gabriel who was walking around the vehicle with a desperate expression on his face. In the distance, they heard groans. Beth looked and could see Walkers heading their direction, no doubt brought by the sound of the tire blowing and the subsequent crash. Beth gripped the hilt of her knife a little tighter.

"We gotta get out of here." She said urgently to Father Gabriel. Gabriel nodded and the two took off running to the North-East into the dense brush of the South Carolinian forest.

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As Daryl had said, he'd been able to hunt up some rabbits. He had killed four and a squirrel in just over two hours. He figured those, plus the edible plants they had been scavenging, would be enough to hold everyone over for few days as they traveled North. With any luck, they'd come across some grocery stores that hadn't been picked completely clean or overrun by walkers.

Daryl was tired. His bones ached. Rick was right – he needed rest. While he hated to close his eyes for fear that Beth would haunt his dreams, he hoped that if he were tired enough, he wouldn't dream at all. He was about a mile east of camp and knew that the walk back would probably be enough to push him to that point. So, he began a slow march back to the lake, his crossbow in his hands, loaded and ready to shoot at any moment should it be needed.

Daryl had been walking for about ten minutes, when he heard a strange rustling coming from the West. It didn't sound like walkers – it was too fast. But, whatever it was was big. Daryl immediately thought of deer or wild boar and what a treat it would be for everyone if he could bring a catch like that back to camp. Daryl slid behind a large tree and raised his crossbow. He could hear the rustling getting closer. He keened his ears toward the direction of the noise and put his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. Any moment, he would see the animal and he wasn't about to miss his opportunity to take it down. He exhaled slowly and waited.

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Beth and Father Gabriel ran until their legs ached and they could hardly breathe. When they could run no longer, they slowed their pace to a rapid walk. Beth knew they were making a lot of noise, crashing through the brush around them and she could only imagine what Daryl would say if he were there. Thinking of him, imagining his voice in her head, chastising her for making such a racket, made her smile a little. She slowed her pace even more to quiet her footsteps. She thought about calling out to Gabriel, who was still foraging ahead, but she decided to let him gain distance on her. She craved some solitude and she knew he would shout if he encountered any walkers.

Beth stopped for a minute and closed her eyes remembering the last time she had run through the woods, Walkers on her tail. It had been with Daryl. They had ran until they both collapsed, panting and exhausted, in a patch of grass, their heads only inches from each other's. Beth had thought Daryl was a jerk back then. She had yet to see the sweet, vulnerable side of him. She felt a pang of longing tug at her stomach at the thought. Not wanting to start crying again, Beth opened her eyes, and followed Gabriel's tracks forward.

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When the tall black man emerged from the brush, Daryl quickly slid back behind the tree and lowered his crossbow. He knew better than to trust any stranger out here right away and he had noticed that the man had a pistol in his hand.

Daryl heard the man breathing heavily, as if he had been running. That unnerved Daryl. There was only one thing anybody ever ran from anymore these days. And if this man had been running through the brush making all that noise, he knew walkers couldn't be far behind.

Daryl carefully turned his body so he could peek out from behind the tree and get a better view of the man. The man was tall and thin. He was wearing worn jeans and a dirty black collared shirt. His hair was cropped short and he had a thin mustache and beard. He did not look menacing but Daryl knew that looks could be deceiving.

The man turned toward the brush and shook his head a little. He seemed like he was waiting for something and his body language made Daryl think he was annoyed. Had he been traveling with someone and got separated? Keening his ears, Daryl heard a gentle rustle of soft footsteps coming from the direction the man had just come. He backed against the tree again. He didn't want to risk being seen – not yet – not until he knew just how many people he was dealing with. A second later, he heard the man's voice.

"Are you ok?" The man said to the person who Daryl assumed had just emerged from the wood.

"Yeah." Said a soft female voice. Daryl keened his ears. He heard the man sigh.

"We should make more of an effort to stay together. It isn't safe to be on our own in these times, as you know." The man said. His voice was calm and steady, but Daryl detected a hint of annoyance in it.

"Sorry. I just wanted to slow down a little. We were making a lot of noise running together."

Daryl froze and his eyes grew wide. He knew that voice - that sweet honey voice that had comforted him one night on the porch of a rundown shack; the voice that had convinced him there were still good people in the world; the voice that always had a song in it, even when she wasn't singin'.

Daryl peeked out from behind the tree, and his crossbow tumbled from his arms.

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Beth and Father Gabriel turned sharply at the sound of the fallen crossbow, the latter raising his pistol and Beth unsheathing her knife. Then, he emerged.

His hair was a little longer, his beard a little thicker, but his eyes were the exact same - those dark, intense, midnight eyes that caused her heart to stop as he stared at her in shock.

Beth's knife slid from her hand and she covered her mouth in shock, her eyes instantly welling with tears. She wondered if she were dreaming, if she was still back in that little twin bed in that big house she and Gabriel had spent the last two weeks in.

"Beth?" He said in a deep, gravelly voice full of awe. And Beth knew she was awake and that Daryl – her Daryl – was standing there before her.

"Oh my God!" Beth exclaimed, dropping her hands and she sprinted full speed into Daryl's arms.

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"I don't believe it… I don't believe it." Daryl kept repeating over and over as he held Beth in his arms. She was sobbing and he was trying very hard to keep the lump in his throat at bay. She looked the same – maybe a little thinner but her hair still shone like gold and she still smelled so sweet to him. Daryl pulled back a little so he could look at Beth's tear-streaked face. He put his hands on either side of her neck, leaned in and kissed her with abandon. Even though he had never kissed her before, it felt familiar, like her lips were meant for his.

When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, closed his eyes, and drank in her closeness.

"Where the hell have you been, girl?" He whispered gravelly. Beth let out a small laugh and pulled back so she could look at Daryl's face.

"Lost… Without you I was lost." Beth said. Daryl smiled. He knew the feeling. He had been lost without her too.

He leaned in and kissed her again, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

The sound of a throat clearing a few feet away is what finally drew them apart.

"I'm sorry to interrupt…" The man said softly. "But would someone please tell me what is going on?"

Beth took Daryl's hand and led him over to the tall, thin black man who had apparently been her traveling companion.

"Daryl Dixon, this is Father Gabriel Stokes." She said.

The man held out a hand to Daryl, but Daryl did not take it.

"He the one that took ya?" Daryl asked Beth, not taking his eyes from this Father Gabriel.

"Yes… but, Daryl…" Beth started, but Daryl didn't hear anything after Beth's 'yes'. He grabbed the man by the shirt and backed him hard against the nearest tree.

"Daryl!" Beth exclaimed. Daryl looked the man in his dark eyes. He saw only fear in them.

"He hurt you?" He asked Beth, anger welling in him like lava.

"No! NO!" Beth cried. "Daryl, please! He thought he was helping me that night! There were walkers everywhere and I couldn't run 'cause of my ankle. He saw me and grabbed me so the walkers wouldn't get me!"

"She's telling the truth. I meant no harm!" Father Gabriel said shakily. Daryl loosened his grip on the man's shirt and backed away. He could feel Beth's hands on his arms, steadying him.

"She didn't tell ya I was in there too?" Daryl asked Father Gabriel, and for a moment, he felt a flash of anger at Beth.

"She did. In fact, she screamed for me to stop and go back but I refused. I'm sorry, son, but I thought for sure you were dead." Father Gabriel replied quietly.

"I made him go back the next morning." Beth said quickly, coming up besides Daryl and taking his hand again. "There was no sign of you though, only walkers everywhere. But I knew, Daryl, I knew you had gotten out."

Daryl let out a small sigh. "Jesus Beth… I spent the entire rest of the night chasin' that car."

"You did?" Beth asked and Daryl could hear surprise in her voice. Daryl put a hand on her cheek.

"I ran 'til I couldn't run no more." Daryl said. He felt like he had to justify himself to her – explain why he hadn't found her earlier. "Then I ended up with this group of thugs, and I found Rick and Michonne and Maggie…"

"Maggie! She's alive!?" Beth exclaimed. Daryl smiled and nodded.

"Where!? Do you know where?" Beth asked desperately.

"We got us a camp along the river, 'bout a mile to the East." Daryl said.

Just then, they heard groans coming from the bush and Daryl knew that Walkers were on their way – brought, no doubt, by the noise they were making.

"Shit…" Daryl said. "We gotta go."

He grabbed Beth's knife from the ground and handed it to her before taking her hand and grabbing his crossbow from the ground where it had been dropped. Hand in hand, they ran to the East, Father Gabriel following close behind.