The gravel crunched beneath her carefully measured steps. Every time she lifted her feet, pebbles skittered across – bouncing off the metal of the railroad tracks. Between the five of them, they sounded like a line of marching soldiers. Or prisoners.

Bella and Carl brought up the rear of the group. As soon as they started walking, Bella made it physically clear she wasn't in the mood to talk. She fell back and dutifully scanned the sides for any walkers or wayward people. And it wasn't long till Carl joined her.

He didn't appear to be in particularly chatty mood either. If it was anyone else, she would've felt annoyed or suffocated. The amount of times Daryl had glanced back at her was ridiculous. She was pretty sure if he were to try to talk to her now, he would respond with a curt "fuck off." It would be unfair, but she wasn't in the mood to particularly care.

But Carl was different. In the foster system, the older kids tended to be the role models, whether good or bad. Growing up, they made her feel some semblance of safety and family. And then it was her turn to take up the pedestal for the younger kids. Bella had always felt strangely protective over them. She always thought that kids were more forthcoming. They hardly ever lied about their opinions and were never manipulative – never like adults.

And Bella cared for Carl. When she and June first joined the group, he was there. Unafraid and trusting. Innocent. He was supportive when June was lost in the forest, and she was there for him when Lori died. At the prison, she was one of the figures there for him to made sure he ate his vegetables, did his laundry, and went to bed at a reasonable time.

This wasn't the reunion she was expecting, if she ever saw him again. And the circumstances weighed heavily on them.

"How did June die?"

When she turned to look at him, there was only a sort of sad acceptance on his face. The tension had long faded from her body, and she had looked deep in thought. Their pace never faltered.

She breathed out softly, focusing on the sound of crunching gravel. "Got shot by the son of the woman she had shot. June-" Her voice faltered. "June shot herself."

She didn't feel grief. She just felt sad. And lonely.

"Those men-" started Carl, his face withdrawn yet thoughtful. "Did they hurt you? Like how they would've hurt me?"

The boy's eyes were pensive. Troubled. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she nodded. "Yeah."

There was no anger or bitterness. It just was.

Bella tapped the rim of his hat. She managed a smile. It was barely there, but it was real and that was enough. "I'm glad you're here."

His smile was bigger. "Same with you." He nodded down the tracks. When Bella glanced up, Daryl had quickly turned around. "You think Terminus will be what we're looking for?"

"It has to. It just has to."

It wasn't. Far, far from it.

Just when Bella thought she's seen the worst, the world always manages to shut her up. Like Daryl says: sometimes, she doesn't know what the hell to think.

The only good thing that came out of Terminus was the rest of her family. Knowing that all the others were alive gave her a sense of peace.

But when the people who she trusts with her lives tried to do something as simple as a hug, Bella shuts down. When Glenn stepped forward with his arms open, his eyes wide with relief for his close friend, she took a step back. It was small enough for him not to notice, and it was large enough for her to steel herself. She felt like a machine – stiff and unyielding, when really all she wanted to do was scratch her skin off.

Fuck. She used to laughand joke with him all the time. She was the first Glenn and Maggie told about their impromptu marriage, and she could still remember the sheer joy and excitement that propelled her into hugging them.

Glenn noticed when he pulled back – she saw the confusion in his eyes, but she quickly moved on to Maggie before he could ask.

Her greetings were lukewarm at best. She could see the realization and sadness in everybody's eyes, and she was once again reminded of the loss of her daughter.

But goddamn it. They didn't know. They couldn't possibly understand.

The only person who could know was Carol. This was how everything started, wasn't it? Their two daughters getting lost in the woods.

When Carol had first appeared outside of Terminus covered in guts, Bella watched as Daryl staggered forward in shock and embraced her. And she felt a selfish sense of relief – like a burden being lifted from her shoulders. That somebody could be here for Daryl when she couldn't.

When the sky had fallen dark, the group were scattered about the fire in the clearing. Trees gave them coverage, and they all relished in being in each other's company once more.

Bella sat against a rock with Judith's head resting on her chest. She had just managed to rock the baby to sleep. Typically, a song knocked Judith out within minutes, but Bella simply didn't have it within her. She had taken Judith from Carl, ordering him to go to sleep. Half of the others were already lying strewn on the leaves.

She closed her eyes, Judith's snoring head tucked underneath her chin.

She only opened them when someone settled lightly beside her, mildly surprised to see Carol.

Bella saw Carol and Daryl on guard together, and she knew it was likely that Carol knew everything.
"Losing Sophia-" Carol shook her head, eyes never wavering from the fire. "That felt like the end of everything. And it was the end of that woman I once was. She died along with her. Now, I'm a better version of myself. I had to be. But I haven't -" The older woman's voice wavered, just barely. "I've been trying to cut away that part of my past. I've been trying to forget. All because I'm afraid that I'll become that person again."

Bella felt impossibly tired. She shook her head slowly, remembering that night out on the balcony with Daryl. "When June died, I didn't know what I'd become. Everything good I did was because of her. But I had Daryl. I had help. And I felt like, eventually, everything was going to be okay."

Her shoulders slumped forward, but her quiet voice remained empty and dispassionate. "Two nights. It took only two nights."

Two nights she still had bruises from. The reasons why she kept wearing long sleeves despite the humidity and heat.

"You hadn't been with us early enough to have met my husband," sighed Carol. "But you saw what I was like. The kind of person I was – meek, timid, quiet. And when Sophia had first disappeared, I felt lost."

"And then you found your way," said Bella, not unkindly.

"Yes, but you want to know how?" Carol didn't wait for her to answer. "I had someone who I had just met to look up to. Someone who had grown up in a life of struggles and came out to be an incredible and strong person. Not just a good mother, but an amazing person."

Carol gave her a small smile. "You have been through more than most even before the outbreak. And do not downplay your own strength. You've always had it within you, and nothing will change that."

The older woman stood up, resting her hand on Bella's shoulder. "Don't forget you have a family here too."

Bella cracked her neck and stretched out her arms as everybody else shook off their sleep. People were packing and relieving themselves in shuffled movements while she unwrapped the bandages around her wrists and inspected the raw skin. The bleeding had stopped, but the dried blood cracked with every movement she made. It had only been less than four days, and she could still remember the feeling of rope rubbing away layers of skin.

It was risky leaving it unwrapped but using the same gauze for days would just allow it to fester. She tugged her sleeves down and covered them up from the stars.

Bella felt a stare and raised her head – meeting Daryl's eyes from across camp. Originally staring at her wrists, he quickly looked back down when caught. Like a satellite, the two hardly ever separated from each other even now. But both unsure and recovering, they also maintain a bit of distance. Always around but never suffocating. She needed space, and – well – Daryl was never the one to cling.

Ever since they had reunited with Rick and the others, the two haven't had a moment alone together. They hardly spoken a conversation in fact. It was a relief having about a dozen others for her to hide behind. To just settle back and not think, so that's what she's been doing. Guilt tugged the back of her mind, knowing that it probably seemed like she was avoiding him.

She breathed out, grabbed a rifle, and made his way over. Daryl didn't look up, even as she silently propped herself on a rock next to him, her rifle on her lap.

Daryl was gazing out into the woods, his chin resting on the butt of his rifle. With all the times the two took guard shifts together, she had always found it rather endearing. Daryl was always so focused and ready. Seeing him in a rather carefree, relaxed position would make her smile.

"Have you slept?"

Daryl glanced over, simply raising an eyebrow. His mouth was soft, and his eyes were almost black in the night.

Bella pursed her lips. "You should've rested."

"Ain't tired."

"Right."

The two lapsed into a mutual silence as they waited for everyone to finish up. It wasn't long until Rick strolled up with Judith on his hip, his hand patting her back as he gently bounced her.

"Anything happened last night?" Rick directed at Daryl.

Daryl hesitated, his eyes flickering to Bella's. "Saw somethin' with Carol. A person, maybe. Or an animal. But no tracks. Could've been nothin' but can't be too safe."

Rick grimaced, his steel eyes scanning the trees. "We'll head south for a bit. Follow the river. There's a town not far off where we can settle down for a bit. We're gonna need some food."

"I got it." Daryl stood up, reaching for his crossbow.

"I'll go too."

The two men and baby looked at her. The former two with hesitation, and Judith with contentment as saliva dribbled down her chin.

Daryl was the one to brave out a "You sure?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'll try to keep up."

And with those words – for a split second – they were back when the outbreak had just started. Dale was perched on top of his beloved RV as the sun began to rose, and the untrusting Daryl was sizing up the wild woman from the water tower.

He cracked a smile as recognition lit up his eyes.

For the next few hours, the two trailed around the group, eyes scanning the ground for any tracks or signs. It felt like the old times, when they would leave the prison fences to hunt for venison. Although they were much more subdued than the usually were, it was a comforting familiarity that made Bella feel more like herself than anything. But unlike that day so many months ago, the two weren't lucky enough to catch a deer.

They joined the group around noon with about a dozen of squirrels. Revealing themselves through the trees, about a dozen of guns and knives were aimed at their faces.

Daryl held up his hands up with the limp squirrels threaded through a line. With a straight face, he said, "We surrender."

His response managed to bring a smile to most of the groups faces, even Bella's. She took the time to remember that they're all alive and together. And for now, it's enough.

But a scream quickly wiped away the smiles. A sharp frown on her face, Bella cocked her bow up as the group followed Carl to the source.

It wasn't long until they broke through the trees, revealing a man on top of a large boulder. Walkers were reaching up at him, desperately trying to reach their next meal.

Bella easily shot one down, with Carl and the others managing the rest within seconds. Daryl's green bolt embedded itself in a walker that was reaching for her

The man scrambled down, sweat beading down his face as he tried to control his breathing. He landed on unsteady legs beside her. Bella scanned him warily, undeterred by the man's priest garb and overall harmless appearance. Not a knife or weapon in sight on the man made her warier.

Rick stepped up, jaw clenched and eyes trained on the man. "You okay?"

The man had the decency to raise a finger before doubling over and vomiting in front of Bella's feet. Scowling, she stepped back against Daryl's chest. Surprised, she shifted forward closer to the vomit.

"Sorry," the man wheezed, wincing as he met Bella's less than thrilled expression. "Yes, thank you. I'm Gabriel."
"You got any weapons on you?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "I don't have any weapons. The word of God is all I need."

Rick matched Bella's scowl as he stepped up and patted down the priest.

"Sure didn't look like it," muttered Daryl.

"I shouted for help. Help came." Gabriel shifted uneasily under Rick's hard stare. His dark eyes flickered around the group with a mix of hope and unease. "D-do you have any food?"

Bella narrowed her eyes disapprovingly when Carl stepped up, her crossed arms. Carl stretched out his hands. "Just some pecans."

The priest accepted them graciously. "I have a church five minutes away from here. You all are more than welcome to take shelter should you need it."

She didn't trail far behind the stranger as they followed him, one hand on Carl's shoulder. Rick never ceased his interrogation.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Walkers? Not – not many actually. As you can probably tell."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None." The timidness changed into genuine shock.

"Why?"

Gabriel slowed down, a streak of true fear in his eyes. When they briefly met Bella's, she could tell he was beginning to wonder what kind of people they really were.

"Because the lord abhors violence."

Rick shook his head, unsatisfied. "We've all done something."

"I commit sins every day, but I confess only to God – not strangers."

A small, white church came into view. It was modest with white steps leading to a wraparound porch. A cross was erected on the top of the roof. Surrounded by the woods with sun streaming through, it looked almost untouched – like a monument.

Without a word given, the group instinctively separated. One half fell back – Carl, Judith, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, and the priest – and the rest went forward behind Rick as they approached the front red doors.

Across from Rick, she met his eyes, and he gave her a nod. One hand on her bow, she kicked the door open, falling behind Rick as they filed into the room with weapons raised.

Rays of color streamed through the stained windows, revealing the aisles and pews that filled up the modest sized church. Dust swirled through the air – over the empty cans that littered the side of room and under cross at the front of the aisle.

The rest of the group clambered in once Daryl gave them the okay.

"You-" Rick pointed at the priest with his gun. "Has this area been picked off? Any food, water, supplies for us to find?"

Bella could physically see the man shaking in his white collar. "There's a river a mile off the town. The only place I haven't scavenged is the elementary school. The rest of the cans from this food drive should be there, but it's full of the dead."

"How much?"

"Too much. Ten or so."

The group shared a glance, and she swore Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Right. Daryl, you head on to the river with a few of us. I'll take couple more – and the priest – with us to the school."

Glenn stepped up. "I'll head to the town – see if there is anything left worth scavenging."

"I'll go with." She could feel Daryl's gaze, but she refused to glance over.

"Everyone be back an hour before dark. We're not taking chances anymore."

A large crash emitted from behind her, and in a heartbeat, Bella had her arrow notched into her bow.

There was no snarls or scuffling. She squinted into the dark corner from across the room as Maggie called out from outside, "Everything alright in there?"

Glenn's form popped up, and Bella relaxed her position. She crept forward and glanced down at the scattered boxes and a broom that was splayed across the floor and then to Glenn's sheepish expression.

"Please don't tell the others."

The corner of her mouth just barely quirked up, and she nodded for him to continue moving on.

When they covered every inch of the empty shelves and empty cartridge and ammunition boxes, they went back outside. The sun momentarily blinded her, and she raised a hand to cover her eyes.

"Found anything?" The new girl – Tara – asked.

Glenn held up the items in his hands. "Two silencers hidden in the back mini fridge."

Tara chuckled in disbelief. "I'm amazed there's still anything in a gun store."

"Rule number one of scavenging: there's nothing in this world that isn't hidden."

Agreeing that the most they'd get out of this trek into town was two silencers, a couple of shirts for the others, and a pocket knife, they headed back towards the church. The sky was just beginning to obtain streaks of a burnt orange, like the beginnings of a fire.

Maggie and Tara led them back, Tara talking animatedly about some story about her niece, while Glenn fell back to walk besides Bella.

Ever since they all reunited, she felt strangely disconnected. Not just with them, but with the world around her. She felt like a spectator – impassionate and uncaring, no matter how much she didn't want to. While everyone spoke and reconnected, it was easy to fall back.

Even with Glenn beside her – her friend, probably the first one she's made out of everybody excluding Carl – she was lost for words. The prison was a time when she and Glenn had shared many laughs and teasing, and now she hardly could bare to look at him.

"I know nothing is going to be the same, not like how it was before. I know you want to forget whatever happened since the prison. Or maybe you want to forget about the prison itself. Sometimes I do too. So I could forget all that we had lost." Bella glanced at him as he continued. "And that's okay. You don't have to say or do anything. But just know, whenever you need me, I'm here for you."

When he put his hand on her shoulder, she didn't flinch. And that was something.

But that night, when the candles flickered, and smoke gathered from the flames and the hot food. When the shadows flashed across the walls and the floor, and the fire was too bright, too quick. When the laughter became too loud, too rambunctious – too much like them– Bella felt the air get trapped in her chest. Her breathing became sharp and rapid, and it was easy to slip through the heavy wooden doors as everyone celebrated and drank.

The sharp smell of wine still lingered in her nose as she dropped down to the stairs. She rested her forehead on top of her knees, arms wrapped around her legs as she steadied her breathing.

This is just all so fucked up.

That one sentence was all that popped up in her head to summarize every shitty feeling and thought.

She lifted her head up, her chin resting on her knees as she stared out into the pitch-black shadows within the woods. It would be so easy – to just get up and walk forward. One foot in front of the other, gone without a trace.

As if her thoughts were heard, she heard the door behind her swing open – and with that, the sounds of the chattering voices from inside getting louder. She recognized the steady, familiar steps. The way his feet began to scuffle and drag on the wood as he slowed down beside her, before settling himself on the stairs. The clunk of his crossbow as he placed it on the ground.

While everyone else smiled and laughed, the two of them stuck out like a sore thumb. Daryl hardly smiled – hardly reacted - to anything these days, and the amount of words he spoke was next to nothing. She noticed the change, and the guilt stung insider h

Surprisingly, she was the first to break the silence. "There isn't going to be shit in Washington."

Daryl grunted in agreement. "All of 'em there – most of 'em already know that. But we sure as hell ain't gonna be sittin' on our asses here after all this shit that went down. Gotta go somewhere."

"But leaving Georgia?" She shifted. "Doesn't that feel weird to you?"

"Georgia hasn't done shit for either of us growin' up. Nothin' good left for us here anyways. Movin' around – maybe even findin' another home. That's the smart play."

It sounded utterly naïve to her. Especially just a month after the prison where they lost over half of their people. If anything, it showed her that that place was just a couple of walls and a roof. There was no guarantee and it simply offered an illusion of safety. It grated her – imagining a sunny sky and open fields - with Daryl grinning at her as they all cooked up the latest caught venison. It made her skin crawl.

"You thinkin' of leavin'?"

Bella's gaze never wavered from the forest. But her knuckles turned white as she fell silent.

"I'll go with you."

At that, her eyes snapped to his – a mix of agitation and anger. "Stop."

He was already gazing at her. She felt a sudden wave of deja-vu to that night where they got shit-faced drunk at the camp. They sat on the wooden patio beside each other, much like they were now. Before, the moon had lit them and their surroundings up clearly, but now she could barely see his eyes in the darkness.

"You ain't gonna go out there alone."

"You do not get to tell me what to do. And even ifI decide on that, you sure as hell are not going to come with me."

Her voice was sharp and flat, but she felt her hands tremble on her lap. She shut them into fists as he rebutted, "I don't give a shit on what you think of me. Not when you're gonna run out there when there's people out there. People like Terminus. Like them."

This wasn't the two same people from back at the beginning. Back when they were on Hershel's farm, and when the two would lash out at each other with heated words and storm away only to clash again later. Now, they spoke abruptly and almost quietly, which contradicted against the intensity and force behind each word. She welcomed this – anything was better than him treating her like a porcelain doll the way he had been for weeks.

"Don't patronize me. I am wellaware about what kind of people are around. But I'm not ready to leave this behind."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Because this place has been full of sunshine and rainbows. Nothin' left here for us but graves."

They both have grown up in this state and lived there for their whole lives. Hell, Daryl's never even left once his own life. It felt wrong to leave. This is where she's from as far as she knows. June was born here. And June was buried here. She wasn't ready to let that go.

Daryl studied her when she didn't respond, and it was as if he plucked that thought from her head. "Stayin' here ain't gonna make things the way they were. And leavin' Georgia doesn't mean leavin' the past behind. By movin' forward – for ourselves, for those kids in there – that's how we honor your daughter, and everyone else we lost."

She rubbed her temples, attempting to relieve the sudden pounding within her head. Her shoulders visibly deflated, as she forced herself to take an even breath before calmly responding, "I know that. I do. But I'm not right right now. That's not good for the others, and it's not good for me. I just don't want to focus on another mission, another goal. Not right now."

Daryl rubbed his jaw with his knuckles, squinting at her before looking back towards the church. Through the small glass windows, he could see the orange glow from the candles inside. A swell of laughter briefly washed over the both of them before dying down.

"My old man wasn't like your girl. He didn't deserve anyone's tears, and it wasn't like he had anyone to give 'em to him. Still, when the whole world was goin' to shit, I was by his side. First time I found out about the dead ones, and first time I ever saw anyone die because of 'em."

"I couldn't even put him down myself. I thought he was the toughest son of a bitch I had ever known, and there he was – bleedin' at my feet. My ol' Uncle Jess had to do the honors, right before he himself got nipped. My first thought alone was to get Merle, who was doin' another stint for drug charge. After hallin' his ass out, I wanted to go back into the woods. Focus on ourselves and not the shit that was goin' on.

"It was Merle's idea to head to Atlanta, if you could believe it. The asshole who brags about not needin' anybody practically dragged my ass to the city. He had a funny way of showin' it, but I know now that Merle was scared as shit about bein' alone. It's why he joined the Governor, and then us. If I had it my way, I would still probably be holed up in the mountains somewhere, if not dead."

Bella lifted her head up from gazing at the top of her boots, but saw that Daryl was still looking towards the church, away from her. "Sorry about your dad. Even if he was a shitty person."

At that, he snapped his attention to her. "Don't be. I meant it when I said he didn't deserve anyone's tears – and most definitely not yours."

Daryl stood up and offered a hand to her. As he pulled her up, he gave a small chuckle. "I know now that the toughest son of a bitch is you. But even you can't go at this alone."

His skin felt hot and rough in her hands, and the heat lingered even when his hands slipped out from hers. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. His expression turned serious and his voice became lower. "Promise me you'll stay. At least for a couple more weeks. Give this a chance. And then if you decide to, promise to tell me first. Or Rick. Or Carol. Glenn. Carl. Anybody. Don't just disappear – they deserve more than that."

She gazed at him, and for a brief moment, she could see the shadow of a young boy. A boy who grew up alone, watching as his mother and then his brother disappears from his life without a trace. A boy who had to witness his father bleeding out at his feet. Daryl deserved more than that.

"I promise."