Daryl felt stupid, like he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. After the prison fell, he escaped with Beth intending to find Parker, but she wasn't there. He hated himself for sending her off on her own, wishing he had told her to stay. He tried to track her down, but there wasn't even a trail for him to follow. He had lost her. He promised her he would find her, but he had lost her. He felt like he'd let her down. Daryl didn't know where Rick, Carl, Michonne, Maggie, or Glenn were. For all he knew they could all be dead. The walkers were chasing them, and the two had to keep running. All they could do was run, and with the number of walkers following them, his heart sank at the thought of Parker facing a herd alone. He knew she wasn't stupid, and that she wouldn't try to take a herd on, but he was scared that they would trap her and tear her apart. 

Daryl ran across a field with Beth, before they collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. He hadn't realized that he had been crying until he felt a tear fall down the side of his face. He felt completely lost without her, the not knowing was eating him alive. She was gone. Missing. Dead. The one person he promised to protect was gone, and he had no idea if he would ever find her again. Every time he thought of her, he felt a pain in his heart. He had a photo of her in his pocket but he didn't dare take it out. If he did, it would be admitting defeat. He had been telling himself that the photo was the last thing he had left of the woman he loved. So Daryl kept it in his pocket and he swore to never look at it until he had completely given up. He had to find her. He and Beth set up a little camp that night, sitting around the fire in silence. Daryl was still thinking about Parker, about her smile and the way she had always looked at him with love in her eyes. He missed her sarcastic comments, that stupid hat she always wore, how she would always say she was bulletproof when she wore the damn police vest.. except this time she wasn't.

"We should do something," Beth finally spoke, breaking the silence and breaking Daryl out of his thoughts. Her voice was raspy, exhausted, they were both dehydrated and this was the only break they had taken since they got split from the rest of the group. When her words were met with nothing but silence she repeated herself. "We should do somethin'." Daryl just looked up at her through the flames of the fire, his arms propped on his knees as he kept to himself. "We aren't the only survivors. We can't be. Rick, Michonne, they could be out here. Maggie and Glenn could have made it out of A block. They could've." She insisted when Daryl didn't say anything. "Parker could be out here too, she could have escaped." Daryl ignored her, so Beth stood up. "You're a tracker. You can track. Come on. The sun will be up soon, we can..." Beth ranted, giving up on trying to convince him once she realized she wasn't getting anywhere. "Fine! If you won't track, I will." She grabbed her knife and left.

 Daryl would have been perfectly content to stay where he was if it weren't for the fact that he could almost hear Parker scolding him for letting Beth go alone. He could see her face in his mind, and he heard her telling him to follow Beth, so he stood up and stomped out the small fire. Following after Beth, and after scaring her when he walked up behind her silently, they continued walking for the night. Beth was relieved to have him there and although she and Daryl never got along. Mainly due to their age difference and the fact that they came from two different backgrounds, she was grateful to be stuck in this with him. As the sun rose, Daryl finally saw something, discovering a set of footprints. Beth stood on her toes to see over his shoulder. "Could be Luke's... or Molly's. Whoever they are, it means they're alive."

"No," Daryl replied, not trying to get his or her hopes up on actually finding anyone. "This means they were alive four or five hours ago."

"They're alive." Beth insisted, not letting him get the last word. As they walked, Daryl couldn't help but think about Parker. He still couldn't wrap his mind around her being dead. And every time Beth looked at him, he knew by the look in her eyes that she was showing sympathy. She felt the exact same way. She had lost Maggie and Glenn, she didn't know if they were dead or alive and it was eating her up inside.

"They picked up the pace right here," Daryl told her, pointing to the footprints they'd been following. "Got out in a hurry. Things went bad."

"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith," Beth commented.

"Yeah, faith," He repeated bitterly. "Faith ain't done shit for us. Sure as hell didn't do nothin' for your father." Beth turned to him with a hurt expression. She looked like she was going to say something, but she thought better of it and walked away, picking berries from a bush.

"They'll be hungry when we find them." Daryl handed her his handkerchief to store the berries before leaving, as a small gesture of a peace offering. Knowing that what he said was terrible, he walked away, glancing back hoping Beth would follow him. She did, and they were off again, walking through the trees. They came across two dead walkers and Daryl spotted the blood on the leaves. "What?" Beth asked nervously.

"That ain't walker blood," Daryl responded.

"The trail keeps goin'," Beth stated, already walking ahead. "They fought them off."

"No," Daryl stopped her, scanning the ground and the bush around them. "Got walker tracks all up and down here. At least a dozen of 'em." A walker jumped out of the bushes next to Beth, grabbing her arm as she screamed trying to get away. Daryl was about to shoot it with his crossbow before realizing he couldn't, not wanting to accidentally hit Beth, he dropped his crossbow on the ground, grabbing the walker and pinning it to the ground. He looked back at her giving her a nod before rolling over with the walker on top of him to allow Beth to drive her knife into its skull. He tossed the corpse to the side, bending down to grab his crossbow, and then continued walking. "Come on." They stumbled upon some more walkers by the train tracks, feasting on two of the three bodies, Daryl didn't hesitate to kill them. He didn't pay attention to the bodies lying on the ground, because after a quick once over, he knew none of them were Parker. 

Looking around to make sure there weren't any more walkers, they decided to walk on the tracks for a bit until he hit something with his foot. There lying on the tracks, was Parker's hat. He looked around and saw at least eight walkers, with stab wounds in their heads. He bent down, picked it up, and shook the dirt off it, staring at it in his hands. He still wasn't close to finding her. But, her hat was a start to a trail he didn't have before, her hat that she liked more than him, gave Daryl a small glimmer of hope that she was still out there. Looking at the hat made him remember when Parker had found it, joking around about finding him a matching one, and Daryl realized he missed her more than anything. More than the fear of not knowing, more than the anger and frustration he felt for himself. And when he felt a tear roll down his cheek, he wiped it away to pretend it wasn't there.

"What's that?" Beth asked, walking up behind him. Daryl handed it to her, and when Beth realized who it belonged to, she gasped. "Daryl.."

"We should keep moving," Daryl stated, taking the hat from her and using some string and tying it to the strap on his crossbow. "Gotta keep movin'. She could still be alive."

"If she is, we will find her," Beth promised, walking alongside him. When they camped that night, Daryl kept staring at the hat, wanting more than anything for her to be there. It wasn't the photo, it wasn't admitting defeat. "She loved that hat," Beth said quietly, staring at the fire. "I don't think I've ever seen her without it."

"Yeah. It's ugly, but she loved it."

"I think she only liked it so much because you hated it," Beth laughed quietly because that's exactly how Parker was when it came to people. If they hated it, she loved it.

"Sounds about right," Daryl agreed, letting out a quiet laugh.

"I miss her too," Beth whispered, looking over at him. "I miss all of them. But I still believe they're out there and, if they are, we'll find them."

"I know," Daryl nodded, finally agreeing with her. "I know we will." He didn't sleep that night, still wondering if Parker was alive. Little did he know that she was and that she was looking for him just like he was looking for her. Beth was strange company to keep because despite knowing each other for a year, they had never been alone or shared any time with each other, apart from what came after the end of the world. She came from a sheltered background, she had everything. Daryl on the other hand had to fight and earn everything he ever had. She still clung to the hope that they would reunite with everyone from their group, that they had all made it out alive. Daryl knew that it would probably never happen and that Parker was probably dead, along with everyone else he had known and cared about. But Beth had hope. She wasn't the type of person Daryl would necessarily call a friend, and with the considerable age gap between them, their interests were completely different. 

He tried to be strong and pretend that life wasn't constantly beating him up, but like everything else, the cracks were starting to show over time. Beth had it in her head that she needed to get drunk at least once before she died, so they set out to try and find some alcohol. Daryl wanted to continue searching for Parker, but after finding her hat on the ground, surrounded by walkers, he wasn't sure if she was alive, but he knew that if she was, he had to keep going. He had to find her. He would never forgive himself if he stopped looking for her while she was out there. Alone. 

An old golf country club they'd managed to find had failed to give Beth the drink she so desperately wanted, and all they managed to find there was a bottle of peach schnapps. When Daryl saw her tears as she stared at the bottle, he threw the last of his darts at the photos on the walls before grabbing it from her hands and smashing it. "Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damned Peach Schnapps." He grabbed his crossbow while pushing open the door. "Come on." He led her through the forest, following the familiar path he had traveled with Parker not too long ago. They were out hunting and Daryl had been teaching her how to use his crossbow like he'd promised almost a year before. They had accidentally stumbled upon the cabin, hidden in the trees, abandoned and rundown. But the reward on the inside was enough to cover the damage. It was a moonshine shack, and while Parker and Daryl spent the afternoon getting drunk, they had also confessed things to each other. Daryl had told her about his childhood, his regrets, his dreams of a better future, the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father, and how he never thought he would find someone who loved him. She had been just as drunk, exposing secrets about not only herself but also her brother. She had told him one thing that night that kept replaying through his head, that she trusted him with her life and that she would never find anyone to love more than him. When they stumbled back through the forest, they could barely see clearly. Even Daryl who drank more often than he liked to admit had trouble seeing straight. And now as he looked at the cabin stood in front of him, he could hear Parker's laughter in his head, followed by her voice.

"I think we are lost." He smiled slightly at the thought of her then, happy, content, and full of life, and he hoped that when he found her she would still be the same. He looked over at Beth who was trying to understand how he'd found this place, confusion washing over her face.

"I found this place with Parker."

"I was expecting a liquor store," Beth replied, slightly shrugging her shoulders.

"Nah, this is better," Daryl said, heading toward the shed at the back of the cabin. He looked through the broken windows to see if there were any walkers before opening the door. He filled a box with jars of alcohol and Beth studied him curiously.

"What's that?"

"Moonshine" Daryl answered, lifting the box into his arms and handing it off to her. "Come on." The cabin was empty and clearly hadn't been cared for even before it was abandoned, but when Daryl entered he vividly remembered his childhood. He checked the room next to the kitchen before pouring Beth a small amount of alcohol into a dusty plastic cup. "That's a real first drink right there," Daryl commented, pushing it towards her and she just stared at the cup nervously. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Beth mumbled, shaking her head. "It's just... my dad always said bad Moonshine could make you go blind."

"Ain't nothing worth seein' out there anymore anyways," Daryl said, trying not to remember Hershel's death. "Besides, it ain't bad. Me and Parker got drunk together when we found this place."

"This is where y'all went?" She laughed, her eyes roaming the cabin. "I remember now, you came back and Rick yelled at you two for being four hours late." She smiled, still laughing at the memory.

"It was worth it," Daryl murmured, looking at the blankets he and Parker had left on the floor that were still there. Beth took a sip and her face scrunched up in disgust.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted." Still, she finished the rest and laughed. "Second round's better." She placed the cup down on the counter, Daryl stopped her when she reached for the jar.

"Slow down." He pushed it away from her and she leaned over the counter, grabbing it from him.

"This one's for you."

"No," He tried to stop her again. "I'm good."

"Why?" Beth asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Someone gotta keep watch," He told her to which she rolled her eyes.

"So what? You're like my chaperone now?" Beth asked, suspicion laced in her voice.

"Just drink lots of water," Daryl stated, walking away.

"Yes, Mr. Dixon," Beth answered back sarcastically. Daryl started securing the cabin for the night, making sure it was safe while Beth increasingly got drunk. It didn't take her much considering she was young and hadn't had a chance to drink before the world had ended. She looked around the cabin, rummaging through the mess while Daryl took care of the broken window. Beth laughed as she stared at a bright pink pot that had been used as an ashtray, shaped like a bra. "Who'd go into a store and walk out with this?"

"My dad, that's who," Daryl responded, and when Beth looked at him with an expression that demanded answers, he sighed. "Oh, he's a dumbass. He'd set those up on top of the TV set, use them as target practice."

"He shot things inside your house?" She questioned, not realizing until now how completely different they had been raised.

"It was just a bunch of junk anyway." Daryl muttered, "That's how I knew what this place was. That shed out there? My dad had a place just like this. You got your dumpster chair. That's for sittin' in and your drawers all summer drinkin'. Got your fancy buckets. That's for spittin' chaw in. After your old lady tells you to stop smoking." Daryl reached for a newspaper and held it up for Beth to see. "You got your... Internet." A walker groaned from outside and Daryl leaned back to check out the window. "It's just one of 'em."

"Should we get it?" Beth asked with wide eyes.

"If he keeps makin' too much noise, yeah." Daryl nodded and she seemed okay with that answer.

"Well, if we're going to be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it." Beth picked up the jar of moonshine and offered it to Daryl. "Unless you're too busy chaperoning, Mr. Dixon."

"Hell, might as well make the best of it," Daryl gave in, taking the bottle and plopping down into the recliner. "Home, sweet home." As the night progressed, Beth got bored of the mindless drinking and asked Daryl to play 'Never Have I Ever' with her. She explained the rules to him, and for a while, they were fine while he got used to the game. He wasn't usually so open when it came to opening up about things but his head was a little foggy and he knew he was becoming numb despite his best efforts not to. It wasn't until Beth's next question that he lost it.

"Never have I ever.. been to jail." Remembering they lived in a prison she added, "I mean.. as a prisoner." Daryl tensed at her words, any fun he was having vanished in seconds.

"Is that what you think of me?"

"I didn't mean anything serious," She stuttered, quickly trying to explain herself. "I just thought, you know, like the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that.. back in the day.."

"Drink up," Daryl scoffed, setting his cup down.

"Wait... prison guard," Beth said quickly, snapping her fingers as she tried to come up with something. "Were you a prison guard before?"

"No."

"It's your turn again." Beth laughed awkwardly, glancing down at her drink.

"Im gonna take a piss," Daryl announced, trying to get up. He dropped the bottle of alcohol on the floor, walking to the other side of the cabin. Beth jumped at the sound of the bottle shattering.

"You have to be quiet!" She hissed, setting her cup down on the table.

"Can't hear you! I'm taking a piss!" Daryl shouted purposefully.

"Daryl, don't talk so loud!" Beth begged him, her voice shaking as the walker from earlier started clawing at the walls.

"What? Are you my chaperone now?" Daryl replied, the tense silence interrupted by the sound of him urinating until he zipped up his pants. "Oh, wait. It's my turn, right? I've never, uh... never eaten frozen yogurt. I've never had a pet pony.  Never got nothin' from Santa Claus." He threw the newspaper off the table in a fit of rage. "Never relied on anyone for protection before!" Now he was yelling, his face red as he yelled and paced the room. "Hell, I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anything!"

"Daryl.." Beth squeaked, her voice not even being heard by him.

"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public like everything was fun! Like everything was a big game. I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin' for attention!" He snapped, not even bothering to try and let her speak. Beth was stunned. She had never seen Daryl like this, but she supposed it was mainly since he had Parker with him the entire time she had known him. She kept him going, and now that he didn't have her, Daryl didn't know what to do with himself. Still, his anger was scaring her and she couldn't help but lean away from him in fear when he got in her face. The walker outside growled loudly and Daryl kicked a stray bucket across the floor. "Oh, sounds like our friend out there is tryin' to call all his buddies!"

"Daryl, just shut up!" Beth pleaded, spinning her head to try and see where the walker was.

"Hey, you never shot a crossbow before?" Daryl asked as he grabbed his crossbow that he had leaned up against a wall. "I'm gonna teach you right now. Come on. it's gonna be fun." He grabbed Beth's wrist, dragging her to her feet as she followed after him. He kicked the door open, ignoring her protest that they should stay inside as he dragged her to the back of the cabin where the walker was lurking.

"Daryl! Cut it out!" Beth shouted, trying to pry his hands off her wrist with her free hand. "Daryl!"

"Dumbass," Daryl commented, aiming his crossbow at the walker as it tripped towards them. "Come here, dumbass!" He shot the walker through the stomach, the arrow embedding itself into the tree behind the walker.

"Daryl.."

"You want to shoot?" Daryl offered, not giving her much of a choice either way.

"I- ! don't know how."

"Oh, It's easy," Daryl assured her, pulling Beth towards him as he raised his crossbow again, holding it with one hand while he wrapped the other around Beth's shoulders. "Come here. Right corner." As he said it he shot an arrow through the walker's right shoulder.

"Let's practice later," Beth insisted, Daryl was too busy reloading his crossbow to listen.

"Come on. It's fun."

"Just stop it! Daryl!" Beth snapped, trying to push him away. After a few moments of listening to Daryl talk about 'target practice' Beth ducked under his arm and killed the walker with her knife, glaring at Daryl as she backed away.

"What the hell you do that for!?" Daryl spat, stomping towards her. "I was having fun!"

"No, you were being a jackass!" Beth shouted, "If someone found my dad-"

"Don't! That ain't remotely the same." Daryl cut her off.

"Killing them is not supposed to be fun!"

"What do you want from me, girl, huh!?" Daryl yelled at her and she flinched, stepping back a bit.

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anything!" Beth answered, finding some courage from nowhere. "Like nothing we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you. Like you don't even care that Parker might be out there somewhere. It's bullshit!"

"Is that what you think?" Daryl asked her, tears pooling in his eyes.

"That's what I know."

"You don't know nothin'!" Daryl ground out, his voice breaking slightly.

"I know that you look at me you just see another dead girl," Beth yelled back at him. "I'm not Michonne! I'm not Carol! I'm not Maggie! I'm not... I'm not Parker! I survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not you or them. But I made it. And you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid!" Daryl took a step closer to her.

"I ain't afraid of nothing."

"I remember." Beth started, a lump in her throat making her stop. "When that little girl came out of the barn after my mom. You were like me. And when that walker almost got Parker the night Dale died. Or when Shane pushed her and she hit her head. You were scared. And now God forbid you let anybody get too close."

"Too close, huh?" He repeated, his voice low. "You want to know what's wrong with my wife? She trusted me when I said I'd find her and I was the damn piece of shit who lost her! But you know all that, right? You lost two boyfriends, you can't even shed a tear! Your whole family's gone. And all you can do is go out looking for some hooch like some dumb college bitch."

"Screw you. You don't get it."

"No! You don't get it!" Daryl shouted at her, his finger in her face. "Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that!" Beth exclaimed.

"Might as well be. 'Cause you ain't ever gonna see 'em again!" Daryl shouted, "Rick. You ain't never gonna see Maggie again. Just like I'll never see my damn wife again!"

"Daryl, just stop," Beth cried, and he released her arm from his grasp and turned his back to her.

"No! The Governor rolled right up to our gates," Daryl explained, his head hung low in defeat. "Maybe if I... wouldn't have stopped lookin'. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me. Parker is dead because of me!"

"Daryl.."

"No," He pulled his arm away from her when she tried to reach for him again. "And your dad," Daryl continued, trying to hold back tears. "Maybe... maybe I could have done something." Beth hugged him from behind and Daryl finally let his tears fall. He sobbed thinking about Parker. Even though he was trying to hang onto that last bit of hope that she was still out there, it didn't stop him from starting to accept the possibility that she was dead. He had sent her away with only the promise of finding her and he had yet to do it. He didn't want to think about her as a walker, not being able to see her as a living, breathing person again. "I lost her," Daryl whispered, his eyes locked on the ground.

"We'll find her," Beth promised, tightening her hold on him. Faith was such a tricky thing. It hadn't done anything for Daryl recently. In fact, life had done exactly the opposite of what he'd expected. It had taken Parker from him, it had killed all his friends, and it had destroyed the only good and stable place they had built. He stepped out of Beth's hug after a while, wiping his eyes.

"Come on. It'll be dark soon." When night came and the only sound was crickets chirping, Daryl and Beth sat on the porch, looking at the trees around them. It was quiet for a while because neither of them knew how to break the ice that had settled after Daryl's outburst. Finally, Beth sighed, deciding she'd be the first to speak.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking."

"You feel sick?" Daryl asked quietly, staring out at the woods that surrounded the cabin.

"Nope," Beth responded, glancing at him. "I wish I could feel like this all the time. That's bad." He hummed, picking at the ground with his knife

"You're lucky you're a happy drunk," Daryl offered, knowing he wasn't most of the time.

"Yeah, I'm lucky," She agreed, cracking a smile. "Some people can be real idiots when they drink."

"Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk," Daryl admitted a hint of guilt in his voice as he stabbed his knife into the porch railing. "The only person who's never seen that side of me is Parker, and if she did, she wouldn't want to stay with me."

"That's not true," Beth disagreed, knowing for a fact that they'd do anything for one another. "She loves you." Daryl sighed, pinching the bridge of the nose, he didn't want to keep talking about her so he changed the subject.

"Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker. One day we were over at his house watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and... Merle was talkin' all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up. Merle never could. Turns out... it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show. And he never sees his kids, so, he felt guilty about it or somethin'. So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hittin' the tweaker, like, hard. Hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here." Daryl put a finger to his temple so she could visualize the fight. "He says, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yellin'. I'm yellin'. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a... talking dog."

"How'd you get out of it?" Beth asked, her eyes full of concern.

"The tweaker punched me in the gut." Daryl placed his hand on his stomach, showing her the spot. "I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it," He sighed, thinking back to the whole thing, about how fucked up it was. "You want to know what I was before all this? I was just drifting around with Merle, doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothing. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother."

"You miss him, don't you?" Beth asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at Daryl through the corner of her eyes. "I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around. I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoying and overprotective." She laughed sadly at past memories. "And my dad. I thought... I hoped he would just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby. And he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics. And he'd get really old. And it would happen, but it'd be quiet. It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by... people he loved." Beth laughed sadly at how wrong she was, trying to hold back her tears. "That's how unbelievably stupid I am." No one had been expecting this to become their lives but to have your family ripped away from you and not knowing what happened to them.. if they were alive, injured, looking for you? That's what slowly broke people down until they gave up.

"That's how it was supposed to be." Daryl sympathized with her. "I never thought I'd be dumb enough to fall in love, but Parker was just.. she was just perfect, you know?" Beth shifted in her spot so that she was looking at him, she'd been waiting for him to finally open up about Parker. "She was great." Daryl continued, a faraway look in his eyes. "She never treated me like I was less than anyone, like my past didn't matter to her. She saw the good in me and I was a better man because of her." He blinked a few times, stopping briefly. "She- I don't know.. she had this way of making me feel like I was goin' to be okay, you know? Like we could really do it." He angrily ripped his knife out of the railing, before chipping at the wood again.

"I know what you mean," Beth spoke, fidgeting mindlessly with her nails. "She was like that with everyone."

"Yeah, she was," Daryl nodded slightly, clearing his throat. "She was good with everyone. She saw stuff in people others couldn't. She was different than everyone else and I... I let her go."

"No one's gonna blame you." Beth tried to reassure him. "I'm sure she doesn't."

"I told her to run," Daryl argued, not wanting to accept the fact that it wasn't his fault. "I said I'd find her. But she left." He reached for her green hat that was attached to his crossbow. "What if she's dead? What if the last thing I told her was a promise I didn't keep?"

"We'll find her," Beth stated, her voice firm but quiet. "If she's out there we're going to find her."

"Can't believe I told her to go," Daryl scoffed at his past actions thinking back to the fight with the Governor. "It was stupid and foolish and I wish I could go back and do it all over again."

"I wish I could just... change," Beth admitted with a sigh, tilting her head back and resting it against the rail.

"You did."

"Not enough." Beth rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Not like you. It's like you were made for the way things are now."

"I'm just used to it. Things bein' ugly. Growing up in a place like this," Daryl nodded his head at the cabin.

"Well, you got away from it."  Beth looked towards the inside of the cabin, the place a mess from Daryl's outburst.

"I didn't."

"You did," Beth countered. "You found Parker in the middle of all this shit that's happening. You are the strongest couple I know. You two were literally made for each other."

"Maybe you got to keep reminding me a few times," Daryl joked making a faint smile appear on Beth's face.

"No," Beth got serious again, her smile disappearing. "You can't depend on anyone for anything, right? I'll be gone someday."

"Stop."

"I will," Beth told him, dead set on this. "You're gonna be the last man standing." He looked at her in disbelief and she sighed. "You are. And you're going to miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon." She laughed slightly, loosely hugging her knees.

"You ain't a happy drunk at all," Daryl commented, bringing up the whole dumb and happy drunk point.

"Yeah, I'm happy. I'm just not blind." Beth replied trying to cover up her laugh. "You gotta stay who you are, not who you were. Places like this.." She lazily pointed her finger at the cabin. "You have to put it away."

"What if you can't?" Daryl asked her.

"You have to. Or it kills you," Beth placed her hand over her heart. "Here."

"We should go inside." Beth stared at the cabin a mischievous grin making its way onto her face.

"We should burn it down." Daryl knew she was talking about the cabin. It would probably be good for him to see it burn, to forget his past. It would allow him to focus on his future. Finding Parker had to be his priority, finding her dead or alive. He had to know. He wouldn't stop until he found her, and with his past out of his mind, he could concentrate entirely on finding her. Daryl stood up, offering Beth a hand.

"We're gonna need more booze." They headed inside to where they left the crate of Moonshine, each grabbing multiple jars and scattering the alcohol around the cabin. Tossing some jars and letting them shatter off of walls, the floor, the ceiling. They had split up to make sure each room was covered in Moonshine, making a trail with the last bottle across the porch and down the stairs, tossing it aside once they were both outside. "You wanna?" He offered her the box of matches and a stack of money to light on fire.

"Hell yeah." She smiled as she took the match and let an orange flame engulf the stack of money that Daryl held onto, their eyes tracking it as it landed in the middle of the living room, watching as the cabin quickly got devoured by the orange flames. They slowly walked to the woods, making sure to flip the cabin off as it burned to the ground. After a bit of walking Daryl decided to properly teach her how to shoot a crossbow and some of the basics of tracking. To at least attempt to make things a little right between them. "Are we close?" She asked, as they followed a walker trail, they'd been tracking since dawn.

"Almost done."

"How do you know?" She lowered her gaze to get a better view of where to shoot.

"The signs are all there. Just gotta know how to read 'em." He stated as he trailed closely behind her.

"Wha- what are we tracking?" She stuttered as she stared down at the tracks they'd been following, the leaves all scattered making a pretty obvious trail.

"You tell me." It was a walker, plain and simple. It was obvious to him. She dropped the crossbow to her side, looking back at him over her shoulder with an irritated look. "You're the one who wanted to learn." He shrugged, unbothered.

"Well... something came through here. The pattern's all zig-zaggy." She smiled once she figured it out, proud of herself. "It's a walker."

"Maybe it's a drunk." Daryl offered, trying to sound serious.

"I'm gettin' good at this." She lifted the crossbow back up. grinning. "Pretty soon I won't need you at all." After an encounter with a walker gone wrong, Beth had managed to get her foot stuck in a bear trap so they decided to hole up in an abandoned funeral home. They'd found someone's stash and taken about a quarter of it for themselves before deciding to settle in for the night after doing a perimeter check. Beth had played a few songs on an old piano before they had settled in for the night, both taking a coffin to sleep in. Which would also be the last good night they had before things took another turn for the worst. They had encountered a dog that would constantly bark and scratch and whine at the door but every time Daryl tried to get it to come inside, it scampered off in a different direction.

"I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance," Daryl grumbled as he unscrewed the lid to the jar of pigs feet he'd been snacking on throughout the day. He opened the door expecting to see the same underweight, scrawny white dog but instead was met with about five to ten walkers. He slammed the door shut, calling for Beth, to warn her. "Beth! Beth!" She hobbled out of the kitchen, his crossbow in hand and he motioned for her to toss it to him. "Run! Run!" He gave her the go-ahead before moving away from the door, blocking the path that Beth had used, shooting the first walker before making a beeline for the dining room. "Beth! Pry open a window. Get your shit!"

"I'm not gonna leave you!" She yelled from down the hallway as he tried to keep the walkers away from her, leading them in the opposite direction.

"Go out. Go up the road. I'll meet you there!" He assured her,  as he turned a corner, most of the walkers following after him. Running into a dead end, he managed to shoot the nearest walker before grabbing the closest item he could find, moving one of the medical beds to use as a blockade between him and the walkers, and stabbing them through the skulls. He pushed another occupied bed at them, squeezing by the remaining walkers and running up the staircase before finally getting out of the building. He ran for a bit until he reached the road, Beth's bag lying on the pavement. The sounds of tires screeching caught his attention and he turned just in time to see a black car with a white cross on the back window speed around a corner.

Daryl had failed. Beth was gone. He chased that car for miles, his feet pounding against the asphalt as he desperately tried to reach her. He would never admit it, but he had grown fond of Beth in the time they had spent together, and knowing that she was alone, kidnapped by strangers, terrified him. He ran during the night, and when morning came, he was exhausted, unable to run any longer. He slowed to a walk, shoulders slouched in defeat. What caused him to give up was the crossroads he was met with, no indication of which path they had taken Beth down. He could pick one and continue for miles without finding her, not to mention she was in a car and he was on foot. Not only had he lost Parker, but now he'd lost Beth. Daryl couldn't understand why the world hated him so much that it would take away everyone he considered important to him. Every time he came close to finding comfort in the presence of another, they were snatched away from him by cold, unwavering hands.

 He fell to his knees in the middle of the street, taking out the photo in his pocket. After all, every day without a new sign of Parker, he had given up. The picture was taken recently, just before the prison fell, with Parker's camera. It was just her, fast asleep in her cell. Daryl had been fixing up her camera that a bunch of kids had gotten ahold of as he sat beside her on her bed. When he saw how peaceful she looked, a tiny smile on her face as she slept, he couldn't help but take a picture. Parker had woken up to the flash and took the picture from him once it had formed. She moaned, rubbing her eyes to get a better look at it, a smile on her face once she saw it. 

"Oh my God. Get rid of that." But Daryl kept it because he thought it was a nice photo of her and he wanted to keep it. Also, she had plenty of pictures of him that he hated so he thought it was only fair to have the one. He missed her. The photograph did not do justice to her beauty in Daryl's eyes. It didn't capture the glow of her when she was happy. Parker didn't have the same eyes as Rick, hers were brighter, lighter than his. You could tell that they were siblings just at the sight of them, how they acted, how they spoke. When you saw how they were towards one another, that's how you really knew. They shared the same authoritative tone and sarcastic wit, and countless times Daryl had been on the receiving end of the Grimes siblings' sarcasm. He smiled at the thought of Rick and Parker together, because even though they had their differences, there was nothing the two of them wouldn't do for each other. Just like there was nothing Daryl wouldn't do for Parker. 

The picture didn't capture the way she bit her lip when she was nervous, or the way she tied her hair up because it bothered her. He remembered when they had been on the run after the farm had been overrun and the group had taken shelter in an old cabin. The windows were boarded up, barely anything remained besides some wood for the fireplace. The group had decided it was the safest place to stay to wait out the small herd of walkers after them. She had been so nervous, anticipating the arrival of the walkers that she'd hurt herself while chewing on her lip. It wasn't until Daryl had calmed her down that she realized what she was doing and stopped. The photograph didn't capture the sound of her laughter, nor the way she smiled whenever she told him she loved him. He wished he could hear those words leave her lips, a soft whisper only he could receive. He missed her laugh, the way it filled him with a warm feeling. Even when it wasn't directed at him, he still loved the sound. Like when Glenn tripped over his own feet and splashed oatmeal all over his face. When Parker had tied Maggie's shoelaces while she was sitting at the table and told her to get something which caused her to fall when she tried to walk. There was something about her laugh that brought him back to life. It just didn't capture anything. But still, it was something. He didn't know how long he sat there, alone, wallowing in his own self-pity before he heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. Without even looking up, Daryl counted about six men, all standing around him in a circle, no doubt with whatever weapon they carried drawn. A pair of biker boots appeared in his vision, frayed jeans rubbing against the tops of the boots.

"Well, lookit here," The man said in a mocking tone. The man tried to take Daryl's crossbow and that's when he reacted. Daryl punched him in the jaw, knocking him down as he stood, aiming his crossbow at the man now lying on the ground. He was an older man, with gray hair and beard, lines carved into his forehead from age. "Damn it, hold up!" The oldest one demanded when all his men pointed their weapons at Daryl.

"I'm claiming the vest." One of the men behind Daryl announced. "I like them wings." Claimed? Daryl didn't have time to reflect on what to say, too tense as he stared down the man he had just hit. He was dressed like a biker, skulls and roses decorated his jean jacket, a hunting knife hanging from his side. This man was dangerous, and even Daryl could sense that. His nose was bleeding from Daryl's punch and he raised his fingers to check if he had any injuries.

"Hold up," The man repeated, pulling his fingers away to see blood covering them which caused him to laugh hysterically as he rose to his feet. "A bowman. I respect that. See, a man with a rifle, he could have been some kind of photographer or a soccer coach back in the day. But a bowman's a bowman through and through. What you got there? One hundred fifty pound draw weight? I'll be donkey-licked if that don't fire at least three hundred feet per second. I've been looking for a weapon like that. Of course, I'd want one with a bit more ammo and, uh... minus the oblongata stains."

"Get yourself in some trouble, partner?" Asked the same man who 'claimed' Daryl's vest. He stayed silent, not saying a word.

"You pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop you several times over," The guy that Daryl presumed to be the leader stated, opening his arms wide to make his point. "That what you want? Come on, fella. Suicide is stupid. Why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people?" That line didn't sit well with Daryl. The man paused, a smile creeping onto his face. "Name's Joe." Daryl lowered his crossbow after a bit of hesitation.

"Daryl." One of the guys to his left took Daryl's picture and looked at it while he let out an amused whistle.

"Damn, I'm claiming this for later, if you know what I mean. She is-" Daryl snatched the photo before the man could finish, tightening his grip on the last thing he had of his wife.

"It's mine." He ground out through clenched teeth. Joe held out his hand, palm up.

"May I see it?" Daryl shook his head, eyes still locked on the other guy.

"No."

"It's a girl." The man with a bow said. "A very pretty one." He wiggled his eyebrows, licking his teeth. Joe looked back at Daryl.

"Girlfriend?" He arched an eyebrow in question. Daryl stayed silent, his eyes bouncing around the group that surrounded him. Joe nodded taking Daryl's silence as a yes. "Well, we won't intrude. Let me introduce you to the others. This here is Dan," He gestured to a short guy, a bit rounder than the others. "This is Tony," He carried around a handkerchief. "There's Billy and Harley." He pointed to the men in turn, then gestured to the one with the bow. The one Daryl wasn't too fond of. "And the one who complimented your girlfriend is Len." Daryl could already tell that he wouldn't get along with Len, who had been eyeing his vest like he couldn't wait to get his hands on it. "So, what do you say, Daryl?" Joe asked him, breaking him from his thoughts. "Will you join us?"

"Where are you going?" Daryl replied with a different question. Not wanting to give a definite answer.

"We're going wherever the wind takes us, but we're currently looking for someone who killed one of our own." Joe told him, his voice laced with anger just at the thought of revenge, the rest all mumbling their words of agreement. "He strangled him in the bathroom." Daryl was hesitant to join them, but he figured being part of a group was better than nothing. These men didn't look like good people, volatile and dangerous, and Daryl desperately wanted to say no. He had gotten good at reading people- almost as good as Parker, so he knew that these people were bad news. Still, they were a traveling group, and if their paths crossed with Parker's, he would rather be there than leave her at the mercy of these men. Reluctantly, he nodded his head and Joe clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "Good man," Joe said. "Come on, we better get going. We're losing daylight." He offered Daryl a smile that wasn't returned. "Welcome to the group. We're called the Claimers."