AN: To those reading Paying the Price, don't worry that story is not abandoned. I know I haven't updated it in a while, for which I apologize. Now I'll just have two WIPs to keep up with, lol. Anyway, I don't really know where this came from. The angst bug hit me I guess. I hope you enjoy! :)

He couldn't put it off any longer. He had to tell her. He hadn't really had time to dread the moment up until now, and now that he did, he was nearly panicked at the prospect. But it had to be done. He knew it did. It was going to wreck her, and no doubt she'd blame him. He did. But he couldn't keep it to himself. Maggie deserved to know what had happened to her sister.

Daryl let his gaze linger on the trees from where he stood on the porch, putting off the inevitable just a little while longer. The cabin they'd found was in disrepair, but it was big enough for all of them, boasting the extravagance of four bedrooms. And above all, it was shelter, thank god. After the trials of escaping Terminus, and the cold that now constantly permeated the air, they damn well needed it. They were still deciding if it was worth the risk to hole up there for a few days, or if it'd be their home for tonight and tonight only.

Getting out of Terminus hadn't been easy, they were all bruised and battered, a few of them injured. Michonne had gotten shot in the arm. That hulking brick-house of a man; what was his name? Abraham. He'd taken a knife wound, stabbed right through his hand. And Daryl, himself, had been grazed by a bullet on his left calf. But they'd all made it. And that had to count for something, right? He figured it should. But he couldn't bring himself to feel any emotion. Just this numbing coldness and an ever deepening sense of guilt that seemed to arise from his very soul, crushing his chest and leaving him breathless.

There'd been no casualties on their side, and of course, he was glad of that. They'd actually managed to take out several of the Termites before fleeing into the woods, only stopping long enough to retrieve the duffel of weapons Rick had buried. Then it was just running and running and running. All through the night, into the next day. Reminding him too much of another time he'd run like that not so many days ago. Only this time instead of chasing he was being chased. They had to assume they'd be pursued, so when they finally did stop it was only for two hours, then they were off again; this time walking with bursts of jogging throughout, trying to put as much distance between them and that place of horror as quickly as they could.

Time blurred and smeared together. Daryl couldn't keep track of the days they went on like that. Three, four… seven? Hell, he didn't have a clue. Just trying to stay alive coupled with wounds he had no time to properly tend, and dealing with his inner turmoil had left him reeling and blind to all else but their desperate flight. Giving him too much time to think. Launching his mind back to everything, back to her.

And then, all at once, they'd stepped out into a small clearing revealing a cabin settled in the middle of the woods, the tree line encroaching on it from all sides giving no more than twenty yards of unobscured visibility in all directions, punching him back to the here and now.

That was an hour ago at least, and now that they'd gotten settled in for the night, Daryl found himself outside, lingering, distracting himself with thoughts of how overcast the day was even though it was only barely noon, how the charge in the air and the scent of ozone promised rain in the near future, and trying to work out how in the hell he was going to tell Maggie he'd fucked up once again. That he'd gone and lost her little sister. Resigning himself to his fate, he heaved a weary sigh and turned to enter the house. Standing outside the bedroom Glenn and Maggie occupied, he faltered, thinking maybe he should wait until morning. Let them rest before he threw this particular bombshell at them.

No.

It had to be now. Tomorrow was uncertain, hell the next minute was uncertain. He'd learned that lesson the hard way more than once. He didn't know if he'd get another chance to tell her. So before he could pussy out and change his mind, he quickly rapped on the door and waited, fidgeting nervously.

The door opened to reveal the couple looking tired and anxious, thinking trouble had befallen them again no doubt. Well, they may have preferred that once he was done with them.

"Daryl? What is it?" Glenn's voice reflected the worry in Maggie's face. The guilt pressed down on him a little harder.

"I… uh," He was fumbling for words, shifting from foot to foot. Not exactly surprising, he'd never been one for eloquent speeches. Something important, something heavy, needing said never failed to turn him into a bumbling idiot. And he could tell he was starting to freak them out. They knew his little visit heralded nothing pleasant.

"Why don't you come on in?" Maggie said stepping back from the door as Glenn opened it wider allowing him entrance and shutting it behind him once he'd stepped past them. He kept his back to them, could feel the heat of their combined stare bore into him, could feel their concern like it was a tangible thing. He wondered if normal people felt comforted by inciting the concern of others, he felt only shame. Overwhelming shame. When he finally turned to face them, he couldn't meet their eyes at first, his gaze flickering about the room uneasily.

"It's just that…" God. How was he supposed to say this? Looking past Glenn, he locked eyes with Maggie. "I gotta tell ya something. About Beth."

Maggie's eyes widened in blatant fear. Before this moment, there was no certainty of Beth's fate. Not for Maggie anyway. Surely she knew Beth may not have escaped the Governor's attack, but she may have. Not knowing was a double edged sword, agonizing in its uncertainty, yet comforting for that exact same reason. And he'd just taken that from her.

"Beth?" Her voice sounded strangled, her eyes filling with tears, and Daryl looked down at the floor. This was his fault. If he'd just checked the door, if he'd been faster, if he'd done something… anything different, Maggie wouldn't be feeling this pain right now.

Suddenly Maggie was directly in front of him, clutching at his arms desperately, shaking him. "Daryl? Daryl! What happened? Where's Beth?"

Taking a steadying breath, he looked up at her and he could see her breaking a little more inside throughout his story. "We got out together. Just me and her. It was like that for a while. And then… we were holed up in this funeral home. She'd hurt her ankle earlier in the day that we found it, and it was secure enough, it had food, so we'd stayed a couple days. Letting her heal up. But a herd got in. She was still limping and there was too many, so I told her to run, that I'd meet her at the road and I led 'em off. When I got to the road our bag was there, but she wasn't."

Before he had the chance to finish, Glenn broke in, voice hushed and cracked in grief. "Walkers got her?"

Daryl closed his eyes in remorse. He really didn't know which was a bigger failure, letting her get grabbed by walkers, or by living assailants. It really didn't change anything. Either way, she was gone. He had failed them, Beth most of all. Sweet, shining Beth. Lost and at the mercy of god-only-knows what kind of deranged fucks. Yeah, letting the living take her, that was worse.

"No." He whispered, his throat constricting so tightly it threatened to cut off his air supply. "I didn't see who it was, just the car. They already had her when I got there. I ran after it, but… I couldn't keep up. I… I lost her."

There was shocked silence for several beats. Without warning, but not without merit, Maggie slapped him hard across the face. The force of it was enough to snap his head to the side, yet he barely felt the sting in his cheek.

"Maggie!" Glenn shouted appalled, and grabbed her hands, unnecessarily stilling any other attempts at her assault. She didn't appear like she planned on hitting him again, not that he didn't deserve it. Her eyes were cold and hard on his.

"Get. Out." Daryl had heard her speak with that kind of venom in her voice before, but it'd never been directed at him. He was almost surprised that it didn't even hurt. Not the slap, not her words, not the poison in her stare. He was too numb for it to hurt.

He was aware of Glenn clutching Maggie to his chest as she dissolved into sobs, staring at him apologetically over her head as he slowly trudged to the door, shoulders bowed in defeat. But it didn't matter. Maggie was right to blame him. Glenn would see that soon enough.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, kept his face toward the door. "I'm sorry, Maggie." Her cries grew louder at his words, and he left the room quickly after that, leaving her to her misery.

Once in the hallway, he leaned against the wall heavily. He felt like he was suffocating, choking on the guilt and shame. He couldn't stay here. He had to get out. Out into the open where the walls weren't closing in around him. With an abruptness that belied the lethargy he could feel consuming him, he'd pushed himself away from the wall before he even knew what he was doing, and made his way outside. And damn-it all, he should have known it was just too easy as Rick's voice stopped him on the threshold of his escape.

"What are you doing?" The worry in Rick's voice made him feel sick. He didn't deserve Rick's concern, or anyone else's for that matter.

"Going hunting." He'd hoped Rick would let the issue drop, but the man just followed him outside.

"Right now? It can wait, come back inside."

"It can't wait. People gotta eat."

"Daryl, you haven't slept in days!" Rick called to his retreating back. "And you're injured."

"Ain't tired. And my leg's fine."

Lie.

He was utterly exhausted. Both physically and mentally. But he couldn't stop, not now. Not ever. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd find the strength to ever move again, and then where would they be? He may be a sorry piece of shit, but the group depended on him. He could provide food. At least he could still do that much. He wouldn't go so far as to say he could keep the safe. Obviously he couldn't. He'd let the Governor stroll right up to their doors and tear their lives to shreds. He'd let Beth…

There was so much blood was on his hands, they might as well have been stained red. Tyreese, Lizzie, Mika, and all the others they'd saved from Woodbury. Hershel, Judith… Beth. So he ignored Rick's calls and faded into the woods.