= :: CHAPTER SEVEN ::=

"Oh my god…" Beth's hand shook as she traced the letters a second time. When she backed away, her fingers were stained the color of rust- the color of dried blood. It was real; she wasn't hallucinating.

GLENN, GO TO TERMINUS – MAGGIE, SASHA, BOB

Tears welled in Beth's eyes and the ground beneath her feet started to sway. Fortunately, Daryl was standing close by and lunged forward to catch her just as her knees gave. She collapsed against him, sobs wracking her body.

"Steady, now," he huffed into her hair, locking his free arm around her waist. Daryl kept an anchoring hold on her as the fears she had been harboring since the prison poured out. He was just grateful she had something good to cry about for once.

They had been walking the railroad for days, taking time aside to hunt, collect water and make camp, but otherwise "tracking" survivors. Daryl had allowed this messed up little game go on mostly for Beth's sake- letting her believe that maybe they weren't just following ghosts. But now he saw with his own eyes, that Beth had been right all along.

Beth's breathing finally steadied and her sobs turned to sniffling. Wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her sweater, she turned her head to look back at the sign. "What a bitch…" she whispered.

Daryl took a step back, dumbfounded. "What did you say?"

She turned her red, puffy eyes on his, swiping at her nose again. "I said, what a BITCH."

Daryl stared her down for several moments, his confusion plain to see.

"GLENN… go to Terminus…" Beth emphasized, her tone shifting an octave. "There's not one damn thing on that sign about me, her own sister…. just wrote me off for dead, didn't she?"

Beth's jaw was set in such a way, that Daryl thought it best to proceed with caution. "Beth, I don't think-"

But his words fell short as her hard expression melted into a huge grin. "Daryl… my sister is ALIVE."

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief, affording Beth a small smile. "Yeah she is. And so are Sasha and Bob, and who knows else." Daryl said, squinting at the sign. "Could be some of the others made it and went this way too."

Beth stepped back up to the sign. "Do you think it's safe?"

"Terminus?"

"Yeah."

His first instinct was no, but his instincts had already been proven wrong once today. "What do you think?" Daryl asked instead.

Beth cocked her head at him, a slow smile pulling at her lips. "You want to know what I think?"

"Asked, dinn'I?"

Her eyes sparkled sweetly for a moment, before the smile faded. "I don't like it."

"You don't? Daryl asked, surprised.

"No. I mean, the name alone is forbodin' ain't it? Terminus… sounds like terminate. Like puttin' cheese in a trap to draw in a hungry mouse."

"Well, that's a happy picture." Daryl snorted. "You been drinkin' again?"

Beth rolled her eyes at him. "I'm serious, Daryl. I don't like it, and I really don't like that my sister and our friends are headed that direction."

"Yeah, me neither." Daryl stepped up to the sign. "Blood's pretty dry... they may've passed through here three or four days ago, by my guess."

"We've gotta go after 'em, Daryl."

Daryl grunted his consent. "We gotta be careful, though. If we pick up the pace, we might make it by nightfall."

"I can, if you can."

"That a challenge, Blondie?" Daryl shot back.

"Maybe." Beth said with a smirk.

"Good thing I ain't the gimp, then."

Beth slung her pack back on her shoulders, flipping Daryl a bird. Her ponytail whipped him in the face as she spun on her heel and set off at a fast, if uneven, pace. "Try to keep up, Dixon," she called over her shoulder.

Despite their initial enthusiasm, six straight hours of walking left them trudging along at a snail's pace. Daryl could've kept going, but Beth wasn't looking too hot and her limp had gotten worse. He watched her carefully as she wove a stumbling path along the tracks- not very unlike the gait of a Walker, singing bits of some disconcerting song under her breath with a weary, glazed-over look in her eyes.

"he shot me down…. bang bang… I hit the ground… bang bang… that awful sound… bang bang… my baby shot me down."

"Think I mighta misjudged the distance…" Daryl called out to her as they came to another railroad crossing. Beth slowed, turning her weary eyes to road on their left.

"Wanna stop?"

"Prolly best," Daryl said, trying to hide his concern. She looked dead on her feet.

Daryl led them carefully down the street, taking down any Walkers that cropped up as they went.

"Looks vacant," he said when they had reached a small suburban neighborhood. "Maybe we scavenge for supplies and hole up in one of these places…"

"Sounds fine." Beth mumbled, her tones dulled by exhaustion.

Daryl knew he needed to get a good meal into her tonight. They had done far too much walking and not hardly enough eating. Most of the houses had the tell-tale signs of being ransacked. Doors stood open, windows were broken- but one of the smaller homes, a cozy, unassuming, single story still looked okay.

"Here," Daryl said, pointing with his crossbow. He let Beth walk ahead of him up the front steps so he could keep an eye on her. They both pressed an ear to the front door and Daryl rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Nothin'" he said a moment later. All had been silent inside.

Within a few minutes they had pried open the door and done a quick sweep of the house.

"All clear," Beth announced, finishing her sweep of the bedrooms.

"Yeah mine too," Daryl said, meeting her in the living room. "No bodies, no nothin'… they're just gone. Whoever they were."

They both moved in to examine a framed collage of photos- the memories of the happy family who'd once dwelled there. Two young boys, a pretty, petite woman and her presumed husband all smiled out of the frames in various poses and from various places.

"They look well traveled…" Beth said. "Maybe they were out of town when it all started."

"Safe assumption," Daryl agreed. "Lucky for us, I guess."

"Yeah," Beth answered sadly. She never enjoyed reminders that children were going through all of this, too. "I miss Judith," she murmured.

"Me too. Bet the little ass-kicker made it, though." Daryl nudged Beth playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Saw some food in the kitchen…"

"No way!" Beth lit up at the news.

"Yes way. And I might share if you're nice to me…."

Beth smiled shyly. Daryl had been increasingly flirty with her since they left the funeral home and she was glad for it because every time he even looked at her for too long, something swelled in her chest and her tongue seemed to go numb. She had started this thing between them, but Daryl had been propelling it forward ever since. Hopefully he didn't see her as the silly, swooning schoolgirl that she felt like around him.

Willing herself a burst of confidence, Beth stepped in to brush his lips with her own. "Is that nice enough?" She asked a moment later, staring up at him with those wide, blue eyes.

"I'd say you just earned yourself some supper." Daryl answered appreciatively, pulling her back in for a second sampling.

An hour later they were both sitting on the floor, backs against a couch and legs splayed out in front of them.

"We shouldn'tve done that," Beth groaned after a time. "Should've saved more than half of what we ate."

Daryl grunted contentedly. "I ain't apologizin'. 'Sides, there's plenty more- we hit the jackpot here."

"Yeah we did." Beth smiled sleepily. "Speakin' of jackpot, I'm gonna fish some water out of the toilet and wash up." Daryl threw her a disgusted look and she swatted at his arm. "The BACK of the toilet, Daryl."

"So you claim…" he smirked, throwing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

Beth found some clean washcloths in the bathroom cupboard and scrubbed every inch of herself mercilessly. When she was done she felt raw and all the dust they had picked up from the road had turned the cloth an unsightly shade of brown.

Ick.

She also found a comb alongside the sink and let her ponytail down, hair spilling over her bare shoulders. The reflection in the mirror was a different person from the Beth she had left back on the farm- scared and unable to cope with the world around her- different, too from the Beth she had left at the prison, the one who kept a diary and sang songs around a campfire. Like everything's fun.

She dropped her eyes and began running the comb through her hair. It took five minutes before the teeth stopped getting snagged on tangles, but her hair shone for the effort. She quickly wove a new braid on the side, and pulled the rest up into a fresh ponytail. She longed to sleep with it down for once, but they never knew when they'd need to run or fight, so up it was.

Beth sighed, eying her filthy clothes. Surely the woman who'd lived here had left some stuff behind. She dumped her jeans, socks, shirt and sweater into the tub, grabbing only her boots and belt.

Peeking out into the hall, all was quiet. It was only a quick dash to the master bedroom, so Beth didn't bother wrapping up in a towel. She streaked across the hallway and shut the door quietly behind her. The bedroom was neat, tidy and untouched. Dumping her boots and belt at the foot of the bed, she went to explore the closet. Inside she found a wide array of clothing, from beat-up overalls to fancy dinner dresses. It was hard not to feel guilty, sifting through another person's wardrobe, but she put the feeling aside. They weren't here anymore, she was.

Beth pieced together an outfit for herself, thrilled to be rid of her usual, bloodstained garb. First she selected a pair of dark grey leggings. They were pocket-less, unfortunately, but the material was thick and lined with wool, which would keep her warm on the nights they had to sleep outdoors. Not to mention, the tight-fitting, stretchy material would give her a better range of motion than her jeans had ever allowed. Next she pulled out an army green tunic top and a black cargo-style vest which made up for the leggings with its bountiful pockets.

Her next exploration, a small chest of drawers, felt the most invasive, and she didn't spend much time with the selection. She grabbed a few pairs of sensible, boy-short style panties and a couple of sport bras. She slipped into one of each before continuing her search for socks. At the bottom of the lowest drawer, she struck gold- two pairs of thick, cream colored socks.

After she had dressed, Beth meandered back towards the living room to find Daryl sitting on the couch, flipping through a parenting magazine. "Find anything good in there?" she asked, flopping down next to him.

"Nah. Think maybe my folks went about the whole parentin' thing wrong, though."

Beth frowned. "They're dust now, Daryl. It's just you and me and the end of the world. At least until we find the others…"

Daryl threw her a sideways glance. "Ain't so bad, is it?"

"Ain't so bad at all." She agreed with a small smile.

"You get some sleep," Daryl said after a moment. "Go climb in one of them beds and have a proper rest. I'll keep watch out here."

Beth studied him with soft eyes. "If you don't mind, I think I'd rather stay."

"Stay?"

"Here on the couch, with you."

"Don't bother me none," Daryl said with a shrug, but she could tell he was pleased. It wasn't often they got an opportunity to sleep in a proper bed, and she was turning it down to be nearer to him.

Daryl shifted to the far end of the couch and Beth stretched out over the rest of it, laying her head on his thigh. She held her breath for a moment, expecting him to tense up, but to her surprise his hand traveled down her arm in an easy, natural gesture, and came to a rest on her hip.

"Nice threads," Daryl said, eyeing her new outfit.

"Thanks," Beth murmured in return.

Beth awoke in the early morning hours to give Daryl a turn at some shut-eye before they set back out. She lit a candle and grabbed a bottle of water before settling back onto the couch.

"Which end you want?"

"Excuse me?" Beth asked, choking on her water.

"Which end?" Daryl was standing over her waiting for an answer.

"Oh… well- I know I don't want your smelly feet."

"Fair 'nough." Daryl dropped onto the couch like a sack of bricks, laying his head in her lap and throwing one leg over the back of the couch.

"Classy…" Beth teased, poking him in the ribs.

"If it gets you too hot and bothered, I can take it to the bedroom."

Or you could take me to the bedroom... Beth felt color flood her cheeks at the thought, and when she chanced a glance down, she found that Daryl was watching her closely.

"I think I'll manage," she said with a roll of her eyes, hoping her internal monologue hadn't read too plain upon her face.

Beth hummed some old Creedence tunes and ran her fingers through Daryl's hair until he fell asleep. Once he had drifted off, she stared at the wall ahead, wondering if her sister was still safe and if Glenn had found his way back to her.

**lyrics are from the song 'Bang Bang' by Nancy Sinatra. **