Chapter Text
Three weeks had passed since the fall of Terminus. For the past two their small party had been scouring the wooded area surrounding the railhead travelling outward along the path most of them had taken on their journey to the end of the line. They hoped to find other survivors of the prison who had not yet arrived at Terminus or had never begun the journey. It was the one thing Daryl had requested - to be allowed to search. Although unspoken, most knew Daryl’s search was for Beth alone. He had every intention of going one way or the other, but several of his old and new comrades insisted on accompanying him. He protested, claiming they would slow him down, but Rick would not hear of it and Maggie and Glenn would not let him go alone. In two weeks they had not turned up a single living being.
They had investigated every lifeless vehicle, home, barn, and abandoned building along their route. No lead was too slight. And some were stumbled upon unexpectedly. Today’s finds had been accidental ones, first the cabin, now the car. Carefully covered by brush, the vehicle should have remained undetected. But the low angle of the late afternoon sun slipping through the thinning autumn canopy had caught the rear reflector at the perfect angle. Abraham signaled the search party to halt, then pointed both left and right indicating the three people behind him, Rosita, Tara and Joshua should circle the vehicle. Daryl, Glenn and Maggie had fanned out to their right following a fresh trail and were out of sight. Once his three team members were in place Abraham slowly approached the car, moving noiselessly, the spongy moss beneath his feet cushioning his steps.
Rifle at ready, he used its muzzle to spread the camouflaging branches just enough to see into the vehicle’s interior. The back seat looked like someone had raided a grocery store, or their grandmother’s pantry. Tinned food as well as glass mason jars carefully lined the floor. There appeared to be no one inside, but he was not fool enough to leave that to chance. Walkers had the knack of popping out of the strangest places. The front seat was covered with piles of discarded clothing, most of it filthy. The dash board had a layer of dirt thick enough to write in. Scraps of paper and other debris were scattered on the floor. And, Abraham grinned, on the passenger’s side, leaned against the seat, was what looked like the butt of a crossbow. Now that might make Daryl feel a bit more complete. He had been without his favorite weapon since he had arrived at Terminus and been disarmed.
Joshua, tall, lean and unkempt, had been pulled from boxcar B, and happily accepted Rick’s leadership. When he caught Abraham’s grin he asked, “What do you see?”
“Something I think our friend will be glad to get,” Abraham answered in a normal tone as he grabbed the front door handle and pulled. The door opened, complaining on hinges in dire need of grease. The powerful stench of rotten walker wafting out of the vehicle’s interior was enough to make his eyes water. As he reached for the crossbow, the pile of rags exploded outward, and he found himself eyeball to arrow with the business end of that crossbow.
“Whoa” Abraham said, taking one step backward, but not lowering his gun. “We’re not going to hurt you.” The figure before him was swathed from head to foot in rags crusted with what could only be dead walker guts. A large hood shadowed the face, but from the size and shape of the hands gripping the bow, Samuel assumed it was a woman, probably as scared of a strange male as she was of walkers.
“Hey Rosita, come here. I think I could use your touch.”
“Something you can’t handle?” Rosita asked coming cautiously closer.
Abraham ignored the barb, but the hooded figure glanced ever so slightly towards Rosita, shifted her balance to encompass both of her opponents, but never relaxed her aim.
“Stay calm,” Abraham said to the ragged figure. “Come into range where she can see you, Rosy. I want her to know we don’t mean to harm her.”
Abraham lowered his weapon as Rosita came and stood closer to him. “We’ve been searching the woods for human survivors - others that might be following the signs to Terminus.” Abraham kept his voice low and his tone neutral. “Are you alone?”
There was no response to his question, just an unwavering crossbow aimed at his face. “Rosita?”
“There’s no reason for you to be afraid.” Rosita had slung her rifle over her shoulder, opening her empty hands towards the woman. “We have a safe place. Safe now. Winter’s coming. You don’t want to be out here alone do you?”
There was an almost imperceptible nod of her head in answer to the question.
“We really aren’t going to hurt you,” Rosita continued. “The place is warm and there’s food. You can come with us.”
Looking over the woman’s hooded head Abraham saw Maggie emerge from the woods. She was within hearing range of their exchange, and Maggie nodded once to let him know she had heard his words to the stranger. She held up three fingers. “Three questions,” she mouthed without speaking.
Abraham looked to Rosita, then to the woman in front of him. She had not moved. “Before you can join us, I have to ask you three questions,” he said. As he did he saw the woman’s posture shift. The bow dropped slightly and her hands seemed to tremble.
“Fourteen,” she said in a soft voice.
Abraham gave her a puzzled look.
“The number of walkers I’ve killed,” she said. “That’s the first question. How many walkers have you killed?”
Abraham had happened to glance in Maggie’s direction as the woman spoke. The look on Maggie’s face changed from cautious alertness, to surprise, to hope. She seemed to abandon all caution as she started in their direction.
“And the answer to the second question is one,” the hooded woman said. She was shifting now, from foot to foot and the bow had dropped. “You were going to ask how many humans I’ve killed.”
Abraham heard a strangled gasp from Maggie. She was coming around the end of the car, less than ten feet from them. “Why?” she asked loud enough for the stranger to hear.
The woman turned towards Maggie. Abraham heard a sharp intake of breath followed by what sounded like a sob. “Because he tried to kill me,” she answered. “Maggie?”
“Oh, God, Beth!” The two women leaped into each other’s arms, hugging each other fiercely. And Abraham could only watch as they sobbed hysterically, not with fright, but with absolute joy. “Oh, baby sister,” Maggie managed to gasp out, “I was scared I’d never see you again.”
****
Beth thought her heart would burst with the joy of finding her sister. She would not have run from these strange men when she saw them at the cabin earlier had she known Maggie was with them. It didn’t matter. She was here now.
Finally calming her sobs Beth asked, “Glenn?”
“He’s here.”
“The others? Rick, Carl, Michonne?
“All safe. And Sasha and Bob too.”
Beth started to cry again, tears of joy for a lost family found. For being found herself. She had never given up hope.
Maggie pushed the filthy hood away from Beth’s face to look at her, as though learning her face anew. “He’s here,” Maggie whispered. “He’s the reason we’re all here. Once Terminus was ours he wouldn’t rest until he came searching for you.”
“Daryl?” Beth was half afraid to ask. Half afraid of what her sister would say. The last time they were together, she was just a little sister, now she felt like so much more and she wondered how much her sister knew about what had happened.
“He told us how you’d been separated after escaping from the prison.” Maggie spoke softly so only Beth could hear. “How he chased the car but couldn’t find you. Losing you has been eating him up. Not knowing what happened to you has been destroying him little by little.”
Beth’s heart both broke and was uplifted by her sister’s words. Somehow, she knew that Maggie sensed the story she had not yet been told. Maggie was good like that. Good at reading the signs. And Daryl had been searching. Just as she knew he would. “Where is he?”
Maggie looked over her shoulder towards the edge of the clearing. Glenn had already broken through the underbrush and was heading towards them. He wrapped his arms around them both and hugged the Greene girls fiercely. Standing alone at the edge of the trees was the only other person Beth had longed to see - alive.
Beth’s heart began to pound, and her throat grew tight as she battled to control her sobs. A sudden, terrifying thought gripped her. She had spent the last days and weeks thinking of Daryl, wondering how she felt about him. She barely understood the emotional bond that had grown between them in the weeks they had spent together. What if he was equally uncertain? What if she had misunderstood what she had seen in his eyes? Easing out of Glenn’s embrace, Beth took a tentative step towards Daryl. He remained in place as though he were unable to move. So she moved for both of them. Closing the distance between them, she stopped an arm’s length away. The emotions playing across his face were almost more than she could bear. The anguish of having lost her battling the disbelief that she was standing before him. Beth wanted more than life to leap into Daryl’s embrace, to assure herself he was real. Instead she lowered the crossbow to the ground and said softly, “I made it.”
“Knew you could,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I never saw no dead girl when I looked at you.”
His eyes, which said so much when he could not, locked on her face. She stepped closer and hesitantly placed her hand on his chest. His heart was pounding so hard she could feel it through the layers of clothing. So loud she could almost hear its frantic rhythm. Cautiously, she wrapped her arms around him laying her head against his shoulder, her face nuzzled into the side of his. His own head bowed towards her and he buried his face in her neck. His arms hung limp at his sides so she held on tightly for both of them as his shoulders shuddered with one deep breath. Nothing else in the world mattered as she held him. For what seemed an eternity they remained locked together, until she pulled away to look into his face. Only then did he touch his fingers to her cheek to assure himself she was not a phantom inhabitant of some tormented dream.
“Is there someplace we’re callin’ home?” she asked.
He nodded. “Mhmm.”
That was enough answer for her.