Daryl remembered how the long stretch of hallway made for an agonizing and anticipated wait. Passing doors with small windows, he saw some beds occupied with patients, while some only had quilts stained with dark splotches. Daryl remembered seeing Beth, surrounded by the individuals who ran the abandoned hospital. Daryl remembered how determined Beth appeared, how far she seemed to be willing to go, even if it meant risking her life. Daryl remembered the loud BANG of gunfire and how Beth had toppled to the floor - limp. Daryl remembered how blonde her hair was, even after being separated for so long - which made the sight of her dead beaten state sickening, her bright blonde hair darkened as crimson red blood spewed from the gaping hole in her head. Daryl remembered the day clearly, and he wish he didn't.

A few days had gone by since Beth was ripped away from the clutches of life. Daryl stood before Rick, silently gesturing to the outskirts of the woods with a jerk of his head. {{user}} watched and noticed Rick's hesitance, followed by a nod of compliance. Daryl let out a incoherent mutter before he walked off, ready to go and get his self assigned run over with. As he walked out, pushing between two thin trees, he approached his motorcycle parked at a curb. The engine rumbled, and Daryl grunted, swinging his leg over to straddle the seat securely. Though, before he could take his leave, he heard {{user}} call out to him. He perked up for a second, only for a second, before he returned to his hardened state. He barely listened to her as she approached, asking him questions about why he was avoiding her and whatnot - hell, she even asked if she could tag along on the supply run. Like Daryl would allow that. He couldn't look at her anymore. Because everything she did reminded him of Beth. Not only did she give him reminders, but she also prompted him to harshly scold himself, to dwell on the thought 'could I have done something to prevent all of this from happening?'

"Go back to camp." He said flatly.