Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

Beth had blinked her eyes, hoping, praying, it had been a bad dream. The first thing she heard was here father's voice saying her name. She thought maybe that's what had called her back. She couldn't say exactly where her mind had gone but it had escaped.

Her father was smiling but there was a sadness in his eyes that told her that everything she remembered had happened. Her stepmother, the woman who had raised her and was just as much a mother to Beth as the one who had given birth to her, was dead. She'd been dead for a long time. Despite what her father had said, she hadn't been sick, she'd been a corpse. A corpse that tried to take Beth with her on the way out.

Beth wished it had been anyone but her father's face that she saw. The sight of him made her angry. Maybe that was unfair but she really didn't care. In that moment she hated him for the stories he had told her.

Her whole life she had accepted her father's beliefs at face value, made them hers but she had it thrown back in her face. It had rocked her to her core. What kind of god let this happen to his flock?

Part of Beth knew she was reacting selfishly; she could smell alcohol on her father and knew that he was taking it hard, but she couldn't extend her aching heart to accommodate his grief. Her own anguish was a physical wound.

It wasn't just her father she was mad at. She was angry with herself. Beth had been blind sighted by her own ignorance. Hershel hadn't let her anywhere near the barn. Only him, Otis and Jimmy had been allowed to feed those people, those creatures. When Otis died, Patricia took over. Maggie and Beth were kept very far away from the reality of the situation.

Maggie had seen what they were really capable of in the pharmacy but she hadn't explained to Beth. Not properly. They had protected her and that had made her weak.

Beth was glad that they had brought that man with the injured leg back to the farm. It meant there were less people hovering around her, trying to reason with her. She looked at Jimmy's face and Patricia and Maggie, and she felt nothing.

The pain had eased into a great cavernous nothing in her chest. Beth was numb. She wasn't supposed to feel like this. The only emotion she could truly identify was a tendril of fear working its way through her mind. She did not want her end to be the same as her mother's. She didn't want her last act in the world to be trying to hurt someone she loved before a stranger she never met put a bullet in her brain.

Beth hadn't been thinking clearly when she had taken the knife off the plate of food but as soon as the handle was gripped firmly in her fingers, she felt sure. Beth had never thought of suicide before that moment but as she hid the knife under her pillow she felt a flutter of determination. It was a choice that she could make for herself.

If death was all that waited outside of the walls of the house then Beth could make her own decision about how she wanted to go.

Lori discovered the knife was missing, putting a spanner in her plans. Beth had stared at the woman and she said some nasty things in an icy detached voice that Beth didn't even know she had. Beth had never said a nasty word to anyone in her life but now she was cruel to Lori. She saw the impact her words had but Lori didn't budge on the issue. Beth just ended up with a baby sitter.

Maggie had flown in to her room in a flurry of rage and indignation. But her scolding did nothing to deter Beth. She even tried to persuade Maggie that this was a good idea. Beth blocked her sister out and waited for a new opportunity.

When Andrea walked into the room, she expected more of the same. But something was different. She realised she could see herself reflected in Andrea's eyes. The same hurt and fear. Beth wanted to know how anyone lived like this. The world felt muted and colourless, like it was separated from her by a barrier she couldn't see.

"The pain doesn't go away. You just make room for it," Andrea said before leaving the room.

Beth dashed for the little bathroom. She shut the door with a click, not wanting the sound to attract attention. She locked the door, feeling eerily calm. Wrapping a hand in a towel, she hit the mirror. She had to hit it three times before it shattered.

By then she could hear Maggie's shouts outside the door. There was a pounding on the door and Lori's voice was added to the din. Beth ran a shaky hand through her hair. All this noise was distracting.

She picked up the glass shard, tuning all the commotion out. If they didn't understand now then they would soon. When everyone they loved was dead and that was all they had left in their future, they would see she was right.

Beth's hand trembled slightly as it hovered over her upturned wrist. She knew how to do it. Vertical, down the vein and deep enough.

There was a crack of wood and Beth realised they were close to getting in. With a deep breath, she hastily dragged the ragged glass shard down her skin, pressing hard. She didn't pause or think too hard.

There was a beat where there was no pain, just the captivating sight of blood against her pale skin. Then everything came rushing in and the pain started. While at first the blood had thrilled her and felt like achievement, now it made her sick. The cut hurt more than anything. Whatever wall had been building around her heart came crashing down and Beth could see everything so clearly. Her sister's panicked shouts were ringing in her ears.

And Beth realised that she didn't want to die. It was like a wave rising inside her until it had nowhere to go but to spill out of her body. With a shuddering sob she clutched at her wrist. The door broke down and Maggie's wide eyes took in the blood.

"I'm sorry," Beth wept as Maggie took her in her arms. She was aware of Lori grabbing the towel and using it to put pressure on her wrist. Beth hissed at the contact. She could feel everything now.

Maggie held her and rocked her like a small child and that's what Beth felt like. Confused about everything except her sudden need to live. All the emotions she had pushed away were now waring inside of her. Grief, anger, fear.

The look on her father's face as he stitched up her arm gently unnerved Beth. He looked so hurt and bewildered by her choice. Already she felt guilty. There was still the pain too. It was like fire up her arm and Beth welcomed it. It was evidence that she had failed.

Beth hid in her room. She wanted to escape those looks. The pity with an edge of accusation. How could she explain to them what she had been so certain of just a few hours ago? She pulled a seat up to the window sill and looked outside. The sun was setting and Beth couldn't wait for tomorrow. It would be the first day of putting what she had done in the past; she would start to heal the damage.

Jimmy rushed in the door, having just heard the news. He was at a loss for words. That didn't surprise Beth. Jimmy was handsome and kind but he wasn't the smartest boy she knew.

He took a seat on the bed. He was just close enough to reach out and take her hand. His fingers were warm around hers but she couldn't take much comfort from the contact. She could see that despite his sympathy, he didn't understand.

But Beth let him hold her hand because he needed it. Jimmy was convinced he loved her but Beth wasn't so sure. She liked Jimmy but she didn't know if it was love or not. Maybe if the world hadn't ended she wouldn't have even thought about it. She would have just enjoyed being a seventeen year old with a boyfriend. Maybe she had been taking for granted that she still had people who cared about her? She had lost her mother and her brother but she still had more than most. She would feel ungrateful for turning away from Jimmy right now.

Jimmy eventually left her alone, leaving her to her thoughts. She saw Rick and Shane return with their hostage. At the sight of Shane, Beth sat upright in her chair, her whole body going tense.

Beth had never felt such pure hatred for another person before Shane had opened the barn. He had always intimidated her but now she despised him. As if he sensed Beth's glare, he flicked his eyes towards her window but the angle of the sun prevented him from seeing her clearly. The look on his face made her shiver.

Beth tucked her knees underneath her, wrapping her arms around her body. There was so much violence and anger in him that it was a wonder he hadn't done something before now.

Maggie came into her room, taking Jimmy's place.

"Apparently we went to school with him," she said quietly.

Beth looked over her shoulder at Maggie. She looked perplexed.

"I don't recognise him," Beth said haltingly. She had only gotten glimpses of him but she couldn't place his face.

"He was in my year I think," Maggie said, her forehead creasing as she tried to remember. Maggie was a couple of years older than her so that would explain why Beth didn't recognise him.

"There were a lot of kids at school," Beth automatically said, trying to reassure Maggie. She could read guilt on Maggie's face. She knew her sister was thinking that if she knew him then he could stay. That she'd know whether to trust him or not.

Beth had always been good at reading her older sister. They'd been close and Beth had missed her when she'd left for college. They'd had fights before but they'd always passed quickly. This was the first time Beth could remember not being able to share something with Maggie.

"You scared me today," Maggie said softly. Her voice was raw with emotion.

Beth swallowed, wishing she could have come to the conclusion she wanted to live without hurting Maggie but the pain had pushed a revelation on her that she just couldn't have reached otherwise.

Beth didn't have more words. An apology stuck in her throat. Maggie sighed and left her alone.

Beth tilted her head back against the chair and closed her eyes and tried to organise her thoughts. She was alive, her heart was still pounding in her chest but the sadness still resonated in her body all the way to her bones. Wanting to live didn't make those wounds disappear. Beth still had to figure out how to go on. She would just put one foot in front of the other, take one breath at a time, and hope she had the strength to continue.

At the moment, the only thing Beth knew for sure is that she wanted space. Andrea had gotten one thing right; she needed to work things out on her own. If only everyone would stop tiptoeing around her like she was made of glass. Beth knew she hadn't proved anything to anyone by her choice but she wasn't as fragile as they thought.

Later she tossed and turned in bed. Beth knew she should sleep but she didn't feel tired. She'd spent too long lying on a bed recently.

Beth threw back the covers and tried to ignore the twinge of pain in her arm. There would be a scar there forever. Her father hadn't said so but Beth could tell.

Beth was quiet as she moved through the house. She had grown up in this house; she knew every creaky floor board, every corner. She could walk it blindfolded. Beth was careful not to wake anyone.

She opened the front door and walked out onto the porch. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Winter was coming, she could feel it. The fresh air made her nerves tingle and she felt good. It was refreshing not to be under scrutiny. With no one watching she could just be how she wanted to be.

There was movement further down in the shadows and Beth jumped. She was still edgy after she had seen what those creatures were capable of.

"Just me," a rough voice said. Beth recognised the gravelly voice. It belonged to Daryl, one of the group.

Beth's heart was still pounding and she had experienced a little hit of adrenaline. It didn't dissipate when she knew who it was. She didn't hate Daryl like she hated Shane, she barely knew him, but he made her uncomfortable. He was one of the people she had the least to do with but what she had seen of him made her wary. He was a loner but volatile. She'd seen him in a mood after her horse had thrown him.

Beth remembered when he had come back to the house, barely standing, only to be shot by Andrea. Beth had brought him some food once but he'd been snappy and she'd not dared venture back in there. She'd hurried out but not before she had seen his scars.

The knowledge of his back made Beth feel awkward around him. She was too aware of what his shirt hid. Beth had never met anyone who had been abused and never knew what to say to him.

"I didn't know anybody else was out here," Beth said in a rush when Daryl made no move to leave. He just leant on the porch railing staring out into the darkness. "I can leave," she offered.

Daryl actually looked at her properly now. Beth caught a glimpse of his face and his flashing eyes. It was like he was only just registering who was there with him.

He shrugged. "'s your house."

He didn't turn his intense stare away from Beth and she shifted awkwardly in the half light. She imagined the effect was diminished by the poor lighting and wondered what it was like to have that penetrating gaze directly on you with no way of hiding.

They lapsed into silence. It was a self-conscious silence for Beth. She felt compelled to break it but didn't know what to say. Daryl himself seemed perfectly content to not talk.

Eventually she ended up replicating Daryl. She leaned her elbows on the porch railing but kept some distance between them. Her injury was aching still and her arm felt hot. She put her other hand on top of the skin. It was cold from being outside and was soothing even through the bandages.

"Ya do that to yourself?"

The question was unexpected and Beth jumped again. She flushed in embarrassment. She didn't want to answer the question, she was just thinking how nice it was not to have to listen to everyone's opinion on what she had done, but he would know the truth by now so there was no point denying it.

She lifted her chin and answered. "Yes," she said defiantly. Something about the way he had asked made her feel defensive. Maybe it was just the way he naturally spoke, like he thought you were an idiot anyway, but something about his tone made Beth think he was being deliberately confrontational.

"You always been weak an' pathetic, or is it recent?"

Beth's jaw dropped open. She didn't know what to expect but it hadn't been that. "Excuse me?" she spluttered.

"Y'heard me!" Daryl's stance had shifted so he was staring at her aggressively.

"What's your problem?" Beth hissed, feeling furious. She knew he was hot headed and often ended things with a fight but this was beyond ridiculous.

Daryl just snorted. "Forget about it." He went to walk past Beth.

Beth was usually a calm person, Maggie was the passionate one in the family, but something about Daryl had gotten under her skin. She didn't know what motivated her but she grabbed Daryl's arm as he tried to push past her.

"What did I ever do to you?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice low.

"Oh I'm sorry, princess. Did you expect sympathy?"

"You don't know me," Beth said, taken back by the venom in his voice.

"I've known people like you my whole life. Life get's a bit tough and you start lookin' for the easy way out, payin' no mind to who's left behind."

Beth had grabbed him but now he stepped into her, invading her space and trying to intimidate her.

"My mother-" Beth stopped because talking about her mother was painful. She swallowed and ignored the angry tears that threatened to run down her face. "My mother has just died. I'm not proud of what I did. I just thought it was the only option."

"My brother was handcuffed to a pipe and he cut off his own hand to survive. I crawled up a cliff with an arrow in my gut to survive. You've had it easy your whole life I'm guessin'. What a waste."

Beth released his arm like it was poisoned. Daryl stalked past her and vanished in the dark. Beth was stunned by the hurtful things he'd said. He was a stranger to her and yet he'd lashed out, making her so mad her hands were shaking. She looked down at the white bandage and the sight filled her with fury and shame.

Beth wanted to scream. She wanted her mother. She couldn't have either so she went back inside and spent a sleepless night staring at the ceiling.

**AN: Well hello everybody. I didn't expect to be back posting Deth quite this soon. The spark for inspiration came from Pass the Porn Tea and I have elements of her suggestion in here, but I've probably bastardised it past recognisability and hope she still enjoys it. I just want to admit that I've never been depressed or suicidal so I'm feeling my way along with Beth's thoughts this chapter. I hope I was sensitive enough in my dealings. **

**Daryl was a massive douche in this chapter but season two Daryl is so different to season three, as is Beth (I imagine), and this is fresh after Sophia so there is a lot of anger floating around. I'm hoping to explore them and take them on a journey that is very different to what I've done before. They're off to a rocky start. Let me know what you think. **

**As always you can talk to me here or on twitter: EJWadePR**

**MD666 **


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl badly wanted a cigarette. The last couple of days had been hell for him. He'd just wanted to find that little girl and bring her home safe. He hadn't thought too closely about why he had been driven to look for her so hard but on the day he'd been injured he's come to realise that he was looking for Sophia but he was also looking for himself out in the woods.

He'd tried to hide it but when Sophia had stepped out of the barn as a walker, he felt like everything came crashing down on him. His first spark of rage had been kindled when Carol refused to come to the funeral. He had smothered it. She was grieving the loss of her daughter and she had loved Sophia with every fibre of her being. More than Daryl had ever had from his own mother.

But Daryl had never had much restraint when it came to his temper and it had boiled over in their last conversation. He regretted the terrible things he had spat at Carol but he couldn't take them back and he turned away quickly. But not before he saw the broken look on her face. Daryl had never empathised with the weak, thinking that if he was still standing after everything they'd been through then they should be as well. But something about Carol was almost as damaged as him. Probably why he'd rebuffed every one of her attempts to reach out to him since Sophia's death.

And now he'd made the other girl cry. Hershel's daughter, Beth. He hadn't meant to but her weakness had infuriated him again. He'd never been much good at thinking before speaking.

Daryl was lost. He didn't know how he had ended up, knee deep in a group of people who could barely look after themselves, let alone each other. They might think they were superior to him because they were educated and their accent wasn't quite as southern but, if they disbanded, Daryl knew who would still be alive in a month.

Which begged the question: why was he still here? Rick had given him an out and said that he didn't owe them anything a few days before they had discovered Sophia. Daryl wouldn't have left the girl with nothing but inept trackers to find her. Now there was nothing keeping him here. Maybe he just knew his presence would piss off Shane. He could feel trouble brewing and knew the smartest thing would be to bail now and leave them to their disaster but for some reason he was still here.

The original plan was to rob them blind and take off with Merle but that plan had soured quickly. Some small voice in the back of his mind wanted to say that he'd become fond of some of the members in the group but he stubbornly pushed it away. He felt guilty for liking any of them after what had happened to Merle. It felt like he was choosing them over his brother. His chest felt tight whenever he thought about Merle. If he knew Merle at all, he'd say his brother was out there causing mayhem. Merle was nobody's victim.

Daryl found himself near the RV. Dale was on duty. He saw the old man peer in to the darkness. Once he was satisfied that it was only Daryl he turned his attention back to the field and the woods beyond.

Dale was one of those people who had grown on him. He could be pushy and maybe a little self righteous but he was one of the first to stop treating Daryl like some ignorant hick. He knew Dale respected him for what he'd tried to do for Sophia. Daryl knew he was butting heads with Shane. Dale was one of those men who didn't know when to shut up but Daryl knew a little bit about that himself.

Daryl leaned against the tree and tried to calm down. He couldn't stop himself from casting a look over his shoulder at the house. It was deceptively normal. It was five times the size of the little shack he had grown up with and comfortable but Daryl knew it wouldn't last. He could feel it in his gut.

Sometimes he thought he was the only one who could sense it. This farm had gotten lucky but it wasn't immune. And for some reason everyone was in denial, acting like life could go on. The windows weren't covered so it lit up like a Christmas tree in the dark when the lights were on. The doors weren't fortified. They were sitting ducks. And that's if you considered the walkers the only threat.

Rick and Shane had brought Randall back because it turned out that after all their careful planning the kid knew exactly where the farm was and who lived there. Something had changed between Rick and Shane out there judging from the tension that now simmered between them. Shane had always glowered at Rick when he thought no one was watching but this was the first time Rick looked at Shane with very real suspicion. Something had happened to make Rick revaluate his best friend.

Daryl was petulantly glad about that. He grudgingly had come to admit that Rick was a decent enough kind of guy but Shane was a time bomb waiting to go off. He was only interested in protecting his own, the rest be damned. Daryl could see him clearly. He was just an incarnation of Merle.

Daryl suddenly felt tired. He wanted the solitude of the woods but there were people who needed him here. That was new to Daryl, having people who needed him. At the very least, if things went pear shaped, he grabbed Carol and get them the hell out of there.

...

"How are you feeling?" Jimmy asked tentatively as Beth tried to eat some food. Everyone was giving her space and Beth wished they'd just treat her normally though she'd done nothing to deserve it.

The only people who weren't being weird around her were Andrea, Carl and Daryl. Andrea understood too much, Carl understood too little and Daryl had done the exact opposite.

"Fine," Beth lied to Jimmy. He tried to rest his hand on hers but Beth wriggled it out under the guise of eating breakfast. Jimmy's face betrayed his confusion though he tried to hide it and Beth immediately felt bad. She had loved holding his hand before.

Jimmy ducked away from her, leaving Beth with an empty seat. Andrea took it. Maggie was talking to Glenn against the wall but Beth didn't miss the dirty look she shot Andrea. She blamed Andrea for giving Beth the opportunity but Beth was actually thankful Andrea had let her make her own decision. If it weren't for Andrea, Beth would still be hidden away upstairs in a hazy world of her own making.

"How _are_ you feeling?" Andrea asked.

"Confused mostly," Beth confessed.

Andrea smiled. "I understand that."

"I want to curl up and hide under the bed. It's just very overwhelming," Beth finished with a sigh.

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You just have to process it all. You've made it past the worst part," Andrea said.

"What's that worst part?" Beth asked.

"Deciding to live," Andrea answered, looking down at the table.

"I think my mother wouldn't be very proud of what I did to myself," Beth explained.

"Amy would have kicked my ass if I had died," Andrea said with a sad smile.

"We stick it out for them?" Beth suggested.

"Yeah, we stick it out for them," Andrea agreed.

Daryl chose that moment to walk in and Beth's expression turned to a grimace before she looked down, hiding her face. She could almost feel the moment he looked at her, those intense eyes seemed to bore into the top of her head. She felt a flush of colour creep into her cheeks. But he wasn't there for her. She was just a silly girl to him. He obviously didn't see who he was looking for and strode out without another word.

"Alright, what was that?" Andrea asked.

Beth shrugged. "I barely know him."

Andrea raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Then why did I catch a glare?"

"We had an encounter," Beth said after considering the right choice of words. "Last night."

Andrea's eyes widened. "An encounter?"

Beth's blood temperature rocketed up. "We had a conversation." She didn't know what Andrea was thinking suggesting that. She was a teenager, he was a man and he quite clearly didn't have anything but disdain for her. She liked Jimmy, with his clean cut farmer boy appeal. Daryl was a bit dirty and scruff for her liking. Not to mention he was old.

"About?" Andrea pressed, her interest piqued. Beth had heard she was a lawyer from Lori and she could see why. She had a way of looking at you that said she knew you weren't telling her the whole truth.

"He yelled at me," Beth admitted. "He told me how stupid and weak I was and he was right."

Andrea gently touched her arm. "No, he wasn't. Daryl's not the most tactful person in the world."

"I kind of dislike him," Beth grumbled. She couldn't bring herself to say she hated him outright. She was not in the habit of saying mean things even if they were true.

Andrea leaned back in her chair and looked at the door Daryl had exited through. It was obvious she was thinking something but Beth had no idea what.

"What?" she eventually prompted.

"I was just thinking that it was interesting. Has Daryl talked to you before?"

Beth shook her head. "Only to snap something at me if I got in his way."

"He barely said two words to me until after I tried to-" Andrea trailed off and bit her lip. Beth didn't need her to finish.

"Was he mean to you too?" Beth asked, hearing how young she sounded and hating it.

"No, he was actually decent about it. But some time had passed."

"Do you think he tried once?" Beth asked slowly. She had never considered the option. Daryl had seemed so wild and tough that she couldn't imagine him ever being vulnerable. Even injured he had fought and simmered. But those scars had come from somewhere.

"I don't know," Andrea said seriously. "And I wouldn't ask him. He doesn't like people prying in his life."

Beth couldn't help but imagine a much younger version of Daryl, someone softer and more scared of life. Maybe someone who could have sympathised with how hurt she was right now. It would make sense. She already felt ashamed of what she had done and could imagine any reminder of it would make her uncomfortable. Was that why Daryl had lashed out at her?

...

Daryl wanted to find Rick. He wanted an update on the situation for his own peace of mind. That kid might look young and innocent but he was still a threat. He was loath to agree with anything Shane said but in this instance, he could see that Shane had a point.

He found Rick standing by himself. His face was dark and he was lost in thought. He seemed to have aged years since Daryl had first met him. He was taking the loss of Sophia hard and he clearly blamed himself. Daryl couldn't fault him though. He had tried his hardest to protect that little girl.

They weren't far from the barn they were keeping Randall in. This was the current problem weighing most heavily on Rick's mind and he seemed to gravitate towards the kid as if proximity would grant him a solution.

Daryl liked more distance between him and his problems. In a rear view mirror was preferable.

"He saying any more?" Daryl asked. Rick didn't jump even though Daryl had joined him almost silently.

Rick shook his head. "He just keeps talking about knowing Maggie."

Daryl clenched and unclenched his fingers on the strap of his crossbow. "Might be he's telling the truth."

"I don't doubt that he is but I got a taste of that group he had taken up with. They were not a friendly bunch of people and they were looking for safe places to hole up."

"You think they'd try and take this place by force?" Daryl asked.

"I don't think they mean to co-exist," Rick answered dryly.

"They'd have a fight on their hands," Daryl pointed out. He thought the farm was over rated and the majority of people on it were stupid most days of the week but it was his territory for now and he'd defend it against some usurper punks.

"It'd help if we knew exactly what we're dealing with but he's not being very forthcoming."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. "I could ask him some questions," he suggested looking down at the ground.

"Why would he answer you?" Rick asked slowly.

Daryl shrugged. "You ask like a cop. I could get through to him."

Rick looked at him. He knew what Daryl was suggesting, he could tell by the concern on his features. Daryl expected Rick to dismiss his suggestion, to look at him with revulsion for even offering but the man's face didn't change.

"I don't want you to put yourself out," Rick said evenly. The conversation was laden with double speak and Daryl wished they could speak plainly. Rick was asking him if he could do what he was offering.

Daryl knew he could. Him and Merle had their fair share of illegal incidences that required creative information gathering. He wasn't as inspired as Merle had been but he could certainly get some information out of a kid scared for his life.

"Seems like you ain't gettin' nowhere and I prefer not to have to have this place over run with anymore assholes."

Shane appeared and started walking towards them.

"Speak of the devil," Daryl muttered under his breath. He might of imagined it but he could have sworn Rick smiled the tiniest bit at his comment.

"Rick, I know you wanted to do things your way but we're not getting anywhere," Shane started to say. "I think it's time someone else had a go."

Rick stared at him for a second before saying, "You're right, Shane."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Of course Rick would agree with whatever Shane suggested.

"I think Daryl should try," Rick said before looking at Daryl. Shane's hot glare fixed on Daryl and Daryl resisted the urge to smirk smugly.

"Daryl?" Shane repeated incredulously

"I think he's got this," Rick said, his stance not wavering. Daryl got the sense that this fight wasn't really about him. He wondered again what had happened to the dynamic duo out on the road.

Shane narrowed his eyes, clearly thinking it was a mistake to send a low life like Daryl in to question Randall. But Rick was tolerating no argument and so Shane stalked away, muttering something under his breath.

With Shane gone, Rick's certainty all but vanished.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked Daryl. Daryl wanted to point out that it was funny how confident he was just a second ago when he was trying to one-up Shane.

"Sure, man. I got this."

Daryl walked past Rick and headed towards the barn. He'd beat on guys before and he knew exactly the right notes to hit. He tried to ignore the twinge he felt in his stomach. After all, it was for the greater good right?

**AN: I've been overwhelmed by how positively this has been received. You are all amazing. As you can all tell this is following season two but not like its gospel. Some events will change, some will stay the same. I don't just want to novelise what you've all already watched. Where's the fun in that? I feel more comfortable in Daryl's head at the moment than Beth's so let me know what you think about her POV sections. **


	3. Chapter 3

"You look better," Maggie said suddenly.

Beth looked up from the steaming cup of tea she was holding. She had been caught in her own thoughts since Maggie had handed her the mug. Her big sister had fit herself comfortably beside her on the couch, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

Maggie had seemed content to sit in companionable silence for a while.

"Do you feel better?" Maggie prompted when Beth didn't answer.

Beth wasn't sure what the right answer was. In some ways, yes she did feel better but in other ways she felt worse. Maybe worse wasn't the right way to describe it but different, definitely different.

The rose tinted glasses had come off so to speak and Beth was adjusting to her new world view.

"I'm getting my thoughts in order," she eventually said.

Maggie cracked a grin and tried to conceal it.

"What?" Beth asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Maggie replied, still struggling to hide the grin. Maggie obviously didn't think grinning at Beth was appropriate considering the gravitas of the subject they were discussing.

"Just tell me," Beth instructed. She had always hated when Maggie seemed to know something she didn't. Probably because she had always been fascinated by her big sister and wanted to share all her knowledge.

"That was just such a Beth answer."

Beth wrinkled her nose. "I don't know what you mean."

Maggie shot her a look that said, _C'mon, yes you do_. "You're the most uptight, I mean, organised person I know."

"I think that's an exaggeration," Beth argued, glaring at her sister.

"Yeah uh, how do you arrange your socks?"

Beth flushed. They were coordinated according to colour and length in her draw.

"And your books?"

"You've made your point," Beth interrupted, though she was smiling herself now.

"I guess I'm giggling because even with all the chaos and upheaval, you've experienced you're still trying to catalogue it." Maggie tapped Beth's head affectionately. "Trust you to have a neat break down."

Beth rolled her eyes. "It's not a break down," she mumbled. "More like an adjustment." But Beth could admit to herself that when she had a handle on the crazy things turning over in her mind she would feel better. She preferred to think before she acted and she had never let her emotions rule her. Now she had to find a balance because all the rationality and logic hadn't been able to help lately.

Maggie was starting to treat her normally. Habits built on years of being Beth's teasing, loving big sister weren't going to vanish overnight. She wasn't been over bearing which was nice. She was too caught up with Glenn, much to their father's dismay. Beth didn't think it was because Hershel didn't like Glenn but rather he didn't want her to complicate her life right now. For Beth's part she though Glenn seemed like one of the nicest out of the group. He always had a kind word for her.

Jimmy was still a little frightened of her. He hovered around her as if he expected her to repeat her actions. No matter how many times she apologised and promised she would never do anything so stupid again. Beth knew it was just because he didn't know what to say. Jimmy had grown up much like she had, spoiled and lucky as the baby of the family. He was a good person but he was as ill prepared for Beth's grief and melancholy as Beth was.

Still she preferred his awkward silence to Daryl's behaviour right now. He'd not said another word to her since then but if she was in the room, he always managed to shoot her a disapproving look. Like she was taking up space she shouldn't. She seemed to have failed a test she didn't even know she was taking. Beth resolutely ignored him. If he was going to pass judgement on her so easily than he wasn't worth trying to convince otherwise. Beth knew that it probably stemmed as much from his own issues as his issues with her.

Patricia called Maggie into the other room to help with something and Beth decided to take a walk. She drained the last of her tea and left the house. She had been taking it easy the last few days but now she was determined to get her strength up. Beth would be useful now if it killed her.

Carl called out a greeting to her from where he sat with Lori. They were flicking through an old atlas from the farm together. Beth waved back and kept going. She was mindful not to go too far. She didn't want to be out of ear shot just in case anything happened.

She spotted Shane talking to Andrea in hushed tones. Shane looked angry but he was keeping a tight lid on that rage for now. Andrea wasn't intimidated by Shane at all and Beth wished she had that kind of courage. Beth immediately walked the opposite direction.

She found herself right outside the small barn they were keeping Randall in. Beth knew she should give it a wide berth but she was curious. They all treated this boy like such a threat but he was barely older than her. What kind of damage could he do?

Beth couldn't hear any noise coming from inside the barn and so she walked even closer. There was a padlock on the front and Beth lifted it. It was a solid lock. Nothing was getting in or out without a key.

Pushing her luck, Beth pressed her ear against the wood, hoping to hear something. Her heart was racing because she knew what her father would say if he found her out here.

"I wouldn't go in there, I was you."

Beth let out a small yelp and whirled around. Daryl was standing off to the side, smirking at her startled face. Beth's jaw immediately clenched at his obvious self satisfaction.

"He doesn't scare me," Beth said boldly. A tremor in her voice betrayed the lie.

Daryl shrugged. "He should. You should hear some of the stuff he's been up to," Daryl said casually, leaning against a tree.

"Like what?" Beth asked before she could stop herself. She was morbidly curious.

Daryl's eyes hardened. "Theft, murder-" his eyes ran the length of her body, "-rape."

Beth automatically crossed her arms over her body. He was just trying to intimidate her. She hated those too blue eyes. It felt like they could see right inside her, see what she was thinking.

"Thing's that'd give a kid like you nightmares."

"I'm not a kid," Beth snapped, flushing. He made her so mad with just a look and a sharp sentence.

"Coulda fooled me," he responded meanly with a pointed look at her bandaged wrist. Daryl stepped away from the tree and any retort she had died on her lips.

"Your hands!" Beth gasped. They were covered in blood. She took a step forward and grabbed his wrists without thinking.

Daryl pulled them out of her grasp. "Mind your own business," he snarled, becoming instantly more aggressive.

"But you're hurt," Beth said, still trying to see where the injury was.

When she couldn't find one, she looked up at his face confused. There was a flash of guilt and shame before his expression closed down once more. Beth took an abrupt step back as she realised he had no wounds.

She darted a look back over her shoulder and remembered the silence in the barn. Her mouth went dry.

"Did you-?" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"He's still alive."

"But you hurt him?" Beth asked. She's wasn't sure why she did. Everything about Daryl's body language told her that she was very unwelcome here and should run away. She didn't budge.

"He weren't exactly forthcomin' with the information we needed," Daryl said wryly. Beth stared at him with wide eyes. He didn't even look bothered by the fact he had just admitted to torturing a man.

"I can't believe you'd do that!"

Daryl's eyes narrowed and he grabbed her forearm, dragging her closer. His body was inches from hers and for the first time Beth was actually scared of Daryl.

"Are you that naive an' stupid? If that group found us, it'd be your body they violate, so maybe a bit of gratitude wouldn't go astray?" Daryl spat out. Beth's wide blue eyes met his angry stare, searching for a hint of remorse.

"He's barely older than me," Beth whispered aghast, unable to reconcile that such an act of cruelty was needed to keep her safe.

Daryl released her, pushing her away in one movement. There was an angry smear of red blood down one of her arms now. "I thought you weren't no kid," he pointed out wryly. He brushed past her and headed back towards the barn.

"You should go on back now. Burry your head in the sand an' let me do the dirty work to keep you and yours safe," he suggested bitterly.

**AN: This was a short one because I think it was a contained chapter that didn't need to be longer. The next one is already longer but I hope you enjoy this offering all the same. Let me know what you think of their chat. **


	4. Chapter 4

Rick handed him a gun with not much explanation. Daryl raised an eyebrow before he took it. He had gone to his tent with every intention of getting a few hours sleep but Beth's words kept turning in his head. He had shifted around until he had given up. What did that precious little bitch know anyway? She knew nothing about the cost of survival. Not in this life or the last. Daryl had rolled back outside and settled for splashing some water on his face. At this point he had to look as old as he felt.

"You want me t'shoot his kneecap or somethin'?" Daryl asked glibly.

"Just returning what's yours," Rick said.

Daryl took a better look at the gun his hand. It wasn't his, it was Merle's.

"Where'd you get this?" Daryl asked darkly.

Rick put his hands on his hips and met his stare head on. He wasn't intimidated by Daryl's glower. "Carl had it."

"How did Carl get it?"

Rick didn't answer but Daryl quickly figured out that someone had been poking their nose where it didn't belong. Daryl checked the safety was off before shoving it into the waist band of his pants.

"Tell your kid to keep his hands off my stuff," he growled.

"I've spoken to him," Rick assured Daryl.

"If he don't, I'll take his hand and add it to my collection."

This time Rick did wince. Not because he thought Daryl's threat had any real merit but because Daryl's words conjured up the image of walker parts dangling, strung up between the trees.

"He's got ball though," Daryl felt compelled to add. He was annoyed that Carl had gone through his things but he felt a little bit of admiration at the guts it would have taken to do something like that. Older, bigger people had taken one look at Daryl and been scared.

"Excuse me?" Rick asked, even though he had heard right.

"Carl. He's a tough kid."

"I don't want him to be tough; I want him to be a kid." Rick sounded dejected and Daryl knew the weight of the decision was sitting heavy on his shoulders. Daryl didn't much envy him. Sure he had opinions on the situation but he was keeping them to himself for now. He wasn't used to being so circumspect but he didn't want to paint a target on his back for good ole' Shane to zoom in on. Dale was doing a good enough job on his own of encouraging Shane's ire. When the bomb finally exploded, Daryl didn't want to be standing directly in its path.

"Sometimes you ain't got a choice about how it's gotta be."

Rick fixed Daryl with a studying look and Daryl got the uncomfortable sense that he wasn't just looking at Daryl the man but was trying to see the ghost of Daryl the child in his eyes. He was looking in the wrong place. All the remnants of his upbringing were on his back.

"Well I'm sorry. I'll get Carl to apologise himself."

Daryl wanted to tell him not to bother but something about the idea of a cop's son having to apologise to the likes of him amused him.

"You know where to find me." Daryl nodded towards the barn. Rick followed his gaze and a look of consternation appeared on Rick's face. Rick looked like he wanted to say something else. Daryl watched it war on his face before he walked away.

He didn't like the fact that Daryl was torturing Randall. Truth be told, Daryl didn't like it either. Something Beth said kept resonating. She had pointed out that Randall wasn't much older than she was and it was true. Daryl looked at her and saw a young girl and to have Randall thrown into perspective like that made him feel uncomfortable. It was harder to see him as a threat when you knew he was barely out of high school. Daryl groaned and wished he could just banish Beth's voice from his head. She was nobody to him.

"You don't know shit," Daryl said out loud even though Beth was nowhere to be seen. She was right but he was equally so. If that group ever caught up with them then Beth would be one of their first targets, with her big blue eyes and long blond hair. It wouldn't matter to them that she was only a teenager.

He took a step towards the barn and hesitated. He physically couldn't make himself take another step. He unconsciously flexed his fingers and the skin on his knuckles felt tight from the wounds. Daryl cursed out loud. He stalked back to his tent and scooped up his crossbow.

A hour of hunting would clear his head of this insanity.

...

Beth knew it was rude to eavesdrop but she couldn't drag herself away. Lori and Dale were talking close to the house and she could hear every single word.

They were talking about Randall but that didn't surprise her. All anybody did these days was talk about Randall. Whether he should live or whether he should die. Beth was heartily sick of hearing the boy's name and that in itself made her feel guilty. They were discussing his life; surely she could spare some more tolerance for the discussion.

Maybe it was because nobody asked her opinion on the issue. They just assumed the fragile depressed seventeen year old would have nothing of interest to add.

Daryl's bloody hand flashed prominent in her mind. He was an ass but she hadn't thought he was a bad person necessarily. Now she knew there was a darkness in him that she didn't fully comprehend. Thinking about Daryl just made her mad for so many reasons so she had listened to the conversation shamelessly.

Lori was saying she supported Rick in his decision and Dale was suggesting that Lori could nudge him in the right direction. Dale was one of the few supporters that Randall had in the camp.

Beth agreed with Dale. People listened to Lori when she spoke. If she joined Dale and defended Randall then Rick would probably listen. She wasn't like Beth, ignored or brushed off or ridiculed. Daryl's grating, rough voice echoed in her ears and she felt it like sandpaper on her skin. If Lori had spoken to Daryl, she bet he would have paid more attention to her.

Beth's anger cooled immediately when Dale mentioned Shane. She still avoided him as best she could. He didn't see her as more than part of the scenery but when his eyes happened to pass over her it sent a shiver down her spine.

Lori ended the conversation and Beth just had time to cross the room and sit in an armchair before Lori entered.

Lori looked worried. Her forehead was creased and her mouth was a tight line. When she spotted Beth she forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Beth liked Lori; she had always been kind to her.

Lori put a hand on her belly and Beth wondered if Lori knew that she did that or whether the action was all subconscious.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Beth answered because it was the truth. Andrea was right. The pain hadn't left her but living with it was starting to feel like normal. Beth could barely remember a time before she had the permanent grief in her heart, even though it hadn't been that long since she had tried to kill herself.

Her father had taken the stitches out earlier in the day and Beth had been relieved to see them go. The scar was fresh and pink but now that the stiches were out, her skin didn't itch like crazy. She had found herself running her fingers along the raised skin repeatedly through the day. It was a reminder of what she wouldn't let herself become ever again.

"What about you?" Beth asked, tucking her feet up under her.

Lori exhaled and took a seat across from Beth. "It's complicated."

"I was depressed not stupid," Beth pointed out with a weak smile to lessen the sting of her words.

Lori looked at her surprised. She nodded and leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her knees.

"I'm tired of everyone looking at me to give my blessings on their plan," Lori said in a rare moment of candour. Lori was nice to Beth but Beth always got the sense that Lori was full of so many secrets and hidden thoughts that she might explode.

"Are you excited about the baby?"

"Excited. Terrified. Confused." Lori leaned back again and ran her fingers through her hair. Beth thought she wasn't the only fragile one on the farm. Lori didn't look like she had eaten enough or gotten enough sleep in weeks.

"I love Rick," Lori continued, "but I'm just not certain that I'm doing the right thing, bringing another person into _this_ world."

"Life has to go on," Beth said and hoped Lori didn't point a finger at her and name her hypocrite.

The two of them lapsed into silence. Beth didn't know what to say to comfort the other woman and Lori was consumed with her own thoughts.

...

Daryl had found the woods to be lacking anything substantial that they could eat. He didn't think there were other hunters but likely the walkers had picked this area clean. This made him worried. An area this big should be teaming with game but there was nothing. Maybe a squirrel or two. It made him think there were more walkers out there than he thought. If they'd eaten everything with a heart beat out here then it was only a matter of time before they began looking for food in other places.

Daryl thought of the farm with its cattle and soft defences. It was something to bring up with the group, presuming they didn't shoot him down.

He had come back to the farm but he still wasn't willing to go into the barn. Daryl told himself it wasn't because of what Beth said but because it was just unlikely Randall had much more to tell them.

"That hurt?" Carl asked. Daryl didn't jump. He had heard the light footsteps that told him he was being approached by someone who wasn't an adult. Carl was the only non-adult. Well, him and Beth but he half imagined he'd be able to hear her pounding heart from the fear of approaching him.

"You should see the other guy," Daryl muttered. He knew Carl was here to apologise but there seemed to be very little contrition on Carl's face. It made him like Carl more than he had to date. It kind of reminded him of himself at that age. All daring and rebellion.

"I'm sorry for going through your things," Carl said. He was uncomfortable and awkward with Daryl.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the boy, not softening his face at all. Carl wanted to mess with other people than he had to learn some people would bite back. Best to learn the lesson from someone who genuinely didn't mean him any harm, like Daryl.

"You better not let it happen again," Daryl snarled. He was impressed with himself. That came out far more threatening than he intended. He was gratified when Carl paled.

Daryl idly scratched at his chin. "You were lucky you didn't knock the explosives in there. We woulda been picking little bits'a you off the farm for weeks."

Carl was equal parts grossed out and fascinated.

"There weren't any explosives in there," he said confidently. When Daryl didn't answer he added, "Was there?"

Daryl shrugged. "Not for you ta know."

Carl studied him, looking for a hint of a lie but Daryl could give a good poker face when he needed to. He didn't need to know that Merle could never have been trusted not to blow himself up if he had that kind of gear in his bag.

Carl's gaze alighted on Daryl's crossbow and there was a spark in the boy's eyes.

"Can you teach me how to fire that?"

"Your arms ain't big enough," Daryl said curtly. He didn't want to get saddled teaching the kid the finer points of using a bow. He didn't have the patience to teach a kid.

Carl looked like he wanted to argue the point but Daryl saw Carol approaching with a grim set of her jaw. He could just imagine what she was coming to tell him.

"Go on, get. I got things that needs doin'."

Daryl watched Carl leave and wished he could have kept talking to him rather than talk to Carol. She called his behaviour into question and he knew she'd have things to say about his treatment of Randall.

...

Beth had gone for a walk again. It was late afternoon and the house had started to feel repressive. She had invited Jimmy along but he had declined. Rick had promised to teach him some more about guns and Beth just couldn't compete with that. She assumed it was a male thing and had told Patricia as much.

Patricia had laughed and patted her arm. "They're a separate species, honey. Don't waste too much time trying to understand them."

There was a tightness around Patricia's eyes that let Beth know she was still mourning the loss of Otis.

She didn't go too far away from the house but she relished the illusion of freedom. If she was bolder she would have taken her horse out.

Beth trailed between the trees and for the second time that day she found herself listening to a conversation she wasn't part of. It was Dale again but when she heard Daryl's voice, she darted behind a tree. Today had been a good day; she didn't need him ruining it for her.

Dale was trying to recruit Daryl and Daryl wasn't having much of it. He wasn't outright obnoxious to Dale like he was to her but he was curt and a little difficult.

Beth wished they'd hurry up and move along so she could get on with her walk. That was until Dale said something that made her feel cold. Dale was convinced Shane had killed Otis. She waited for Daryl to snort and shoot down the suggestion in that condescending manner of his.

But he didn't. He told Dale he knew. Beth's breath caught in her throat and she slid down the tree and sat on the ground. Shane had murdered Otis. She pressed a hand to her mouth as she listened to them finish their conversation.

"This group is broken," Daryl spat at Dale before striding off. He walked right past the tree that Beth was sitting at the base off.

"How did Otis die?" Beth called to him as he passed her. Daryl jumped and swore. She had startled him, something she was certain not many people could boast of.

He looked at her with exasperation. "Why ain't I surprised to find you here? Do you just follow me round?" he demanded.

Beth ignored his questions, pushing herself to her feet. "Did Shane kill Otis?"

Daryl opened his mouth and shut it again. He actually looked uncomfortable.

"I reckon so," he eventually said. There was an awkward pause. Beth's mind was reeling.

"You're right," she said abruptly. "This group is broken."

Daryl didn't know what to make of the fact she was agreeing with him, that much was plain.

"You gonna tell your people?" Daryl asked.

Beth's immediate reaction was to say yes, then everyone would know what a monster Shane was. Then she stopped to consider. There was no evidence, just speculation. Beth wasn't so oblivious that she didn't know that neither of Dale or Daryl would be considered reliable. Dale, because he notoriously opposed Shane and Daryl, because he was Daryl. Beth didn't think either man was wrong. It fit with what she thought of Shane.

She shook her head. "It'll just hurt Patricia. She thinks Otis died a hero."

"He did," Daryl interjected and then snapped his mouth shut. He hadn't planned that. Beth stared at Daryl. She hadn't expected him to know a kind word, let alone say one to her.

Beth pushed past Daryl, leaving the man silent in her wake for once.

"Beth?" he called after her. Beth turned back, feeling lost. "He'll get his. Assholes always do."

She could see in his eyes that he was lying. Daryl thought he would get away with it but Beth appreciated the intent behind the lie. It was possible that Daryl wasn't as bad as she thought.

**AN: This chapter is well over due. I've just had a very, very busy week but I anticipate having more time to write in the coming days. I think this chapter was good (am I biased? Maybe) and had a smooth flow. Let me know what you think m'dears. **


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl's mind was only half on the conversation at hand. He was standing off to the side. Dale was arguing for Randall's case but Daryl could only see Beth's haunted eyes in his mind.

He didn't want to be the one who had told her about Otis. It wasn't any of his business but she'd popped out of the trees with that annoying habit of being exactly where she shouldn't be and Daryl hadn't been able to lie to her.

He'd wanted to be blunt but he'd found himself giving her the small reassurance that despite what had happened, Otis was a hero. His death had given life to Carl. And since Otis was responsible in the first place then maybe that made sense.

Daryl cast a furtive look at Shane and wondered. When he'd first met Shane he'd thought he was a bit of a dick. Maybe one of the cops who liked his power a bit too much and exerted a tad more force than necessary. Daryl wasn't so naive that he thought Shane was morally good just because he had a badge on his chest but he'd seemed alright. He'd taken people under his protection who couldn't fend for themselves and while that hadn't been high on Daryl's advisable-things-to-do survival list he couldn't fault him too highly on that.

He knew Shane was sleeping with Lori but hadn't fully understood their connection until Rick had come back to the camp. Then he'd been too preoccupied with his brother's disappearance to think too much on that relationship. Later he supposed it made sense. In their grief they had sought out a person who made them feel close to Rick.

Then that morning, back at the Centre for Disease Control, when he'd seen those scratches on Shane's face, he felt a chill down his spine. Even through his hangover, Daryl had recognised those marks. They were defensive wounds, made through fear and desperation. He hadn't said anything but he could see the way Lori refused to look at Shane now, the way she jumped when someone touched her and she wasn't expecting it. Daryl quickly put two and two together even if no one else seemed to see. They were all caught up in the euphoria of finding a safe haven.

Daryl had kept his mouth shut. Who would believe his word over Shane's anyway? Besides he didn't owe Lori anything. They all still looked at him like he was to be tolerated and nothing more. But he filed that information away and he treated Shane a little more warily now. If he could do that to someone he supposedly loved, what would he do to someone who meant nothing to him? Kill them, if Otis was anything to go by.

Daryl wondered if he could have done it. If it was Merle lying shot on a bed. Chances were that Merle was probably more deserving of the bullet than Carl had been but still he just didn't know. This whole apocalypse thing was forcing him to rethink his allegiance to the rest of the human race. A month ago, Daryl would never have dreamed he'd be out risking his life to save a little girl but hadn't that been what he'd done?

Daryl wanted to curse and tell himself he was being an idiot. Had he already forgotten how that situation turned out? What happened when he tried to help? She'd been right under his nose the whole time and he'd never noticed. If he'd just taken the time to properly search the farm, he would have seen the amount of foot traffic leading into the barn didn't match the occupants in the farm. But like everyone else, he thought the danger was out in the woodlands. It still was but there was danger here too.

Daryl looked down and chewed on his thumb nail to give himself something to do other than glare at Shane.

He was snapped from his reverie when Dale addressed him.

"You're right," Dale said, saying two words Daryl had never heard from another adult in his entire life. "This group is broken."

Dale sounded lost. He'd truly expected everyone to agree with him and spare Randall. Dale just didn't understand the world had changed. Even Rick, the golden hero, was beginning to accept that things had to be done differently.

Daryl didn't want a teenager to die but this kid was a bigger threat than any single walker. His knuckles ached from hitting Randall. At least his death would be quick. Rick would see to that.

Dale wasn't the only one who looked forlorn. Even now, Rick had been hoping that someone would present him with a solution that would save him from executing Randall. And Daryl knew Rick would be the one to do it, his honour demanded it.

Daryl left the room then. He needed to be back outside where he felt more at home. He was beginning to hate this farm. There was too much death and misery now. Everyone he saw seemed to have haunted eyes.

He stepped onto the porch and resisted throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "Don't you have anywhere better t'be?" he demanded roughly.

Beth was sitting on one of the chairs, listening to the conversation. Her eyes were red rimmed and it was clear she had been crying but she made no comment about it and neither did he.

"Is Rick going to kill him?" she asked. She sounded oddly flat. There was no tremor in her voice which was unusual. Beth had always been upset when they spoke. Give her time though; he had a habit of bringing it out in people.

"Yes," Daryl answered bluntly. He was waiting for her recriminations and blame. He was still half expecting her to reveal the truth about Shane even though she had claimed it would help nobody.

Beth nodded once before tilting her head back against the wood of the house. For the first time in his life Daryl was struck by the need to say something. Maybe it was because she looked so young and hurt in this moment, he couldn't really explain it. But he had nothing to say. There was no comforting version to this story and Daryl wouldn't lie.

Beth stood up and he noticed how small she was. Her head barely would have reached his shoulder. She brushed past him without another word, careful not to actually touch him.

The door closed behind her with a neat click and Daryl was left standing on the porch alone, fighting a nagging feeling he only later identified as guilt.

...

Jimmy couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening. Beth couldn't blame him; she was struggling to understand too. They had decided Randall's fate and only Dale and Andrea had spoken in his defence. It wasn't enough and now Randall was doomed to die.

Beth's father hadn't contributed and she knew that meeting Randall's group had gone a long way to ensure her father's silence as they debated killing Randall. He didn't want those people ever finding the farm. It gave some credence to what Daryl had told her about rape and murder. She had thought it was just to scare her, to punish her for being squeamish and judgemental. Now she wasn't so sure.

Maggie had excused herself to her bedroom and Beth could hear her crying from her own room next door. Maggie was weeping for the boy she barely knew. Maggie had always been the strong one and it took a lot to make her big sister cry. She had waited until she had some privacy before giving in to tears.

Beth and Jimmy sat on the bed, with the door still open. It had always been her parents rule if boys were in her room and even though it seemed silly considering the circumstances they still upheld it.

Jimmy was just as torn as she was. Neither of them wanted Randall to die but nor did they want those men finding the farm. Jimmy tried to play tough but he was still a seventeen year old boy underneath, despite how badly he wanted to play the protector.

Jimmy held her hand, fingers accidently brushing the new scars on her wrists but for now he was too distracted to notice. Normally he'd jump like her skin burnt him and apologise profusely. Beth was glad that he didn't react that way now. It was hard to regain any sense of normalcy between them when half the time he acted like touching her terrified him.

"You think this is right?" he finally asked Beth quietly. Neither of them had offered their opinion earlier. Not only had they not been invited to the discussion but it was an adult decision and nobody really saw Jimmy and Beth as being adults.

"I don't know anymore," Beth responded. Jimmy looked relieved to find that he wasn't the only one conflicted about it. Beth didn't think he had anything to worry about. Shane was the only one who appeared completely certain about the course of action and Beth knew he wasn't anyone to emulate.

Even Daryl, who had endorsed torture, had looked uncertain of himself when Beth had seen him leave the house. Through all their conversations he was all bluster and bravado but tonight Beth had caught a hint of self doubt.

"Maggie blames herself," Jimmy said quietly.

Beth immediately glanced at the wall dividing their rooms and nodded.

"She thinks if she knew him, could vouch for him, then he'd be able to live here."

"Why didn't she lie? Say she knew him and that he was a nice guy?"

Beth thought about the way Maggie looked at Glenn. "Because what if she was wrong? What if someone she loved got hurt?"

Jimmy misunderstood. "I'll protect you," he swore. "If anything happens, I'll make sure you're alright!"

Beth had to smile at his gallantry. Of course Maggie was interested in keeping her family safe but these new comers weren't simply strangers any more either. They had rescued her father from town, Maggie had helped save Carl, and Glenn had saved Maggie. There was a binding in those acts that couldn't be ignored.

Beth shivered on the bed and was suddenly cold. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out a sweater. She took a minute to run her hand along clothes that hung there, forgotten and disused. Beth had preferred pretty sun dresses, except when she was horse riding, but with the state of things that had just become impractical.

Even her wardrobe's set up reflected the chaos that permeated her life. Everything was just thrown in together these days. Maggie was right; Beth did like things organised and neat. She liked labels and boxes and categories. She was discovering more and more that her old world view had no meaning here. One of the scariest monsters she had met so far was Shane and he'd been a cop, someone she would have respected and looked up to.

Shaking her head to concentrate, she tugged the sweater on. It fell to her wrists, covering her scars nicely. When she returned to the bed, Jimmy opened his arms for her and she went into their circle. She appreciated his offer to protect her but it didn't make her feel safe. She just let herself enjoy the comforting touch of another human being.

...

Daryl helped Shane and Rick march Randall to the barn. There was nothing formal about what they did but there was a sense of ceremony. They didn't see people as they passed but Daryl could feel eyes on them. Some of these people had been hardened by life and what they had seen but none of them were at the point where they could watch Randall die, even if they agreed it was for the best interest of the group.

Daryl tuned out Randall's pleas which were increasing in volume and desperation. Whatever the kid may or may not be, he wasn't stupid and he could sense that his end was nearing with each step.

Daryl had to exert a little pressure to keep him in line but there was no real fight. Nothing like what Daryl would have exhibited if he was being walked to his death. He would rail and claw and scream until he got out of the situation.

Rick looked defeated and Shane looked smug. Daryl deliberately took his eyes off Shane because his expression would just ignite a rage in Daryl's chest. He agreed that this was the sensible course of action. They couldn't afford to make mistakes and Randall was guilty by association. But that was it. There was no evidence that he's partaken in the worse crimes of his group and Daryl knew that for certain. People being beaten within an inch of their life would tell you the truth.

Still Daryl could almost sympathise. He was had been judged more than once, not for his actions, but because of the company he kept. Shane would have been just as quick to send him down if he'd met Daryl in the same circumstances.

Daryl put Randall on his knees and swallowed. Outwardly his expression didn't reflect the tumultuous emotions that were turning over inside him. He could see Beth's luminous but jaded eyes in his mind. When he had walked out onto the porch after they had voted a young man's life away, she had look disappointed.

Daryl was beginning to hate that little girl. She knew nothing of the necessities of the world and yet she had the nerve to reproach him. What's worse was she was getting to him.

Rick was sweating but his hand was steady as he levelled it at Randall. Even Shane looked less satisfied now that the deed was about to be done. The situation was bleak enough to take the gloating out of the asshole.

Rick asked if Randall had any last words and he had nothing profound. Just piteous weeps that made him seem younger than he had yet. Daryl didn't know what his last words would have been if he'd been in the same position. Probably just a curse and a glare.

Daryl could see the war going on inside of Rick. Every agonising conflict was playing out on his face. He was bracing himself and Daryl realised that up until this moment, he hadn't really thought Rick could go through with it. But there was a steel to this man, even as he was shattering his own conscience to pieces.

Then a voice spoke up behind them. "Do it, dad!"

Daryl glanced over his shoulder and saw Carl standing in the barn. Daryl knew what he was seeing though he hadn't seen it in someone so young for a long time. It was blood lust.

Rick looked at Carl with disbelief as Shane hurried to usher the boy out. If Rick's conscience was suffering before then it was his heart that broke when he saw Carl there.

Rick lowered the gun to the ground and told Daryl to get Randall out of there. Daryl didn't hesitate. He jerked the young kid off his knees as gratitude poured out of Randall's mouth.

Daryl wanted to tell him not to count his lucky stars just yet. He'd been reprieved for a little bit but only because Rick had seen a much greater threat in his son's perversity. Daryl didn't know what the hell he was doing there. The kid needed a leash.

As Daryl pulled Randall back to his make shift prison, his chest felt looser. He'd been prepared to back Rick up on the decision but part of him hadn't reconciled with killing this kid in cold blood. Roughing him up a little would teach him a lesson, killing him served no one but themselves.

Daryl had just snapped the lock back into place when he heard a scream tear through the air. It was a man and they were in pain.

Daryl didn't think; he just ran in the direction the noise was coming from.

**AN: So much times gets away between chapters. I mean to post earlier but then I get busy, but here it is. As you all have figured out, I'm taking pretty massive liberties with season two. The time line is a bit different, events are a bit different, dialogue is altered, but I hope the characters are still behaving as they would. Please let me know what you think. Reviews make me happy and encourage my little typing fingers.**


	6. Chapter 6

Beth jerked awake. Her room was dark and Jimmy was by her side breathing deeply. Something must have been wrong if they'd been allowed to sleep on in the same room together.

Beth pushed through the disorientation and heard what had woken her originally. Shouting. Beth's skin went cold. She pulled herself completely from Jimmy's embrace. She raced outside, not even bothering to put shoes on.

The grass was cool underneath her feet. The evening precipitation had already started to cover the ground.

She saw people up ahead, grouped together and there was crying. Beth skidded to a halt just on the edge of the group. She peaked through the bodies, terrified of what she would see.

Beth's hand fluttered to her mouth when she saw Dale's pain filled eyes and shallow breathing. She could see the back of Andrea's head as she crouched over Dale, crying.

When Andrea shifted slightly, Beth finally saw the wounds that Andrea's body had concealed. The blood roared in Beth's ears and she felt inexplicably hot. Dale's abdomen was a mess. He'd been torn open and Beth could see everything inside. His innards looked black in this light.

All around her people were crying and clutching each other. Andrea was begging anyone and everyone to help him. Beth couldn't imagine the level of physical pain Dale must have been feeling. Surely his body had gone into shock by now.

Rick had pulled his gun from his holster and had it trained on Dale. His arm trembled and there was a horror on his face that made Beth's heart break. But Beth found herself wishing he'd shoot Dale. It would be a mercy compared to the slow death the man was facing now. Rick's hand shook. He couldn't bring himself to shoot a man he called friend.

Then a large hand slowly covered Rick's. Beth saw Daryl carefully take the gun from Rick, his eyes locked on the other man's face. Rick looked simultaneously relieved and ashamed as he relinquished the gun to Daryl.

Daryl crouched low and pressed the gun to Dale's head, just lightly His expression was bland and if he was horrified or scared, then he didn't show it. Beth's heart pounded painfully against her ribs as she saw Dale struggle to smile.

"Sorry, brother," Daryl muttered and then he pulled the trigger. Beth jumped at the crack of the gun shot. There was only silence in its wake and Beth's ears were ringing. Beth couldn't take her eyes of Dale's upturned face. Even dead the pain was still etched into every line. She knew his face would haunt her dreams for a long time.

...

Daryl handed the gun back to Rick and walked away. His shoulder brushed past T-Dog, who opened his mouth like he might say something to stop him. He clenched his now empty hand. It was still numb from the kick back of the gun.

He knew that as long as he lived he would never be able to forget Dale's face in the last moments before his death. A death Daryl had delivered. The man had fought to smile at him but despite his best efforts he had never managed it.

The man with a gift for words that Daryl would never have, had been rendered speechless. All he had to communicate were his eyes and they spoke volumes. Even speechless, Dale was articulate. His eyes begged and pleaded for the mercy of a quick death. His eyes absolved Daryl of what he was about to do.

But even with permission Daryl felt sick to his stomach. He was glad no one tried to follow him, that they were caught up in their own grief, because he desperately wanted to be alone right now.

He felt sullied in a way that hitting Randall had never made him feel.

Daryl had never had many friends growing up. He'd always been more of a loner, holding down jobs while Merle was locked up but never making connections. No one understood him or loved him the way Merle had, and he'd be hard pressed to say that Merle ever truly got him. There was a fundamental difference between the two brothers. When they had been teenagers, Merle had taunted Daryl and called him soft. If it wasn't Merle then it was their father. By the time Daryl turned eighteen and became an adult in the eyes of the law, he had learned to hide any weakness or vulnerability. He'd seen more by adulthood than many people saw in their entire lifetimes.

Dale had been different. He'd never been scared of Daryl. He talked to him in the same easy manner that he spoke to everyone. If Dale teased him, it wasn't cruel. He was one of the first people in this rag tag group to give Daryl any respect at all. And now he was dead.

Dale deserved better than that.

...

Beth was helping Patricia do the dishes when Jimmy came to get them.

Jimmy popped his head around the door and said, "It's time." His face was sombre.

They were burying Dale and Beth's heart felt heavy. She wasn't ready to watch another human be put into the ground. Especially one as kind as Dale. He would be glad that Randall was still alive though. Randall had been all but forgotten since Dale's death. He was a problem that could wait until they all had a little time to mourn.

She had barely seen Maggie since it happened. Her big sister hadn't left Glenn's side. Andrea was almost inconsolable in her grief. Carol and Lori had stayed with her though she wasn't up to speaking. Beth wished she could do more for Andrea, considering the support and understanding she had given to Beth, but Beth couldn't even begin to think of the right thing to say.

Everyone seemed more subdued today. Even Shane looked unhappy and Beth took as evidence that he still had some semblance of a heart, tucked away inside his chest. Daryl had completely vanished since pulling the trigger. If he was around the farm then Beth hadn't seen him.

She wondered if he'd come to the funeral or if his guilt would be too much. Beth just didn't know enough about Daryl to predict how he was going to react. He was so hard and mean to her but yet she occasionally saw glimmers of kindness.

Beth needn't have questioned because he was standing there beside the open grave. He looked uncomfortable; his hands were tight around the strap of his crossbow. He didn't make eye contact with anyone and so he missed the concerned glances Carol kept shooting in his direction. The sun was low in the sky now and it gave the world a softer look. It might have been a beautiful afternoon if not for the reason they had gathered.

Beth couldn't figure the man out. Last night Daryl hadn't hesitated but now he looked like he wished he could be anywhere but here. She knew that he objected strongly to what she had done when grief had threatened to overcome her. Maybe it was death in general that bothered him but she still couldn't shake the feeling that something about suicide hit a personal note with him.

Rick spoke and then Andrea did. Her eyes were red from crying but she spoke clearly and had everyone laughing with a story about how she first met Dale. Beth admired her strength. It gave her hope to see that Andrea had come so far since wanting to die. Everything may not be perfect but there was new hope in Andrea. Instead of breaking her, Dale's death gave her something to live for, a memory to honour.

The whole time people talked, Daryl didn't take his eyes of the hole in the dirt. He stood a little way off from the rest of the people.

When T-Dog, Shane and Glenn started filling in the grave, gently laying the dirt around Dale, Daryl immediately slipped off. Beth didn't know what moved her to follow him but she did. She heard Jimmy call her name but she pretended not to.

She tracked him to their camp, leaving a little distance between them so he wouldn't notice. For some reputable hunter, he wasn't very aware of his surroundings right now. Beth put it down to grief.

Beth had never been this deep into their little camp site before. When she saw a long piece of twine stretched between two trees she initially assumed that it was a convenient place to hang clothes. Her mouth dropped open when she saw what was hanging off it. There were parts, parts from people. Beth's stomach dropped and she immediately took a step back.

It quickly occurred to her that maybe she was stupid for following Daryl out here by herself. It was obvious that she didn't know this man at all. Anyone who collected bits of body was not stable.

Just as she considered turning around and fleeing, Daryl lashed out with a yell, sending his fist into the tree trunk.

Beth gasped but the sound was covered by the next strike. He was unleashing all his pent up rage and sadness on a tree! It was more likely to hurt him than he was to hurt it. Beth cringed at the impact, certain that he'd broken something.

When he didn't stop, Beth ran across and grabbed his arm. She had to throw all of her weight on to his elbow to stop him from delivering another bruising blow to the bark. Beth could already see the torn skin and blood. One of his fingers looked crooked and Beth wondered if it was dislocated.

Daryl rounded on her, his large hand wrapping around her throat. He jerked her in front of him, slamming her back against the very tree he'd been assaulting.

Beth fought to breath and her hands flew to pry at his fingers, which felt like iron on her neck. Daryl's eyes were hot and angry. He was furious that his private anguish had an audience.

Beth's cheeks flooded with blood and finally she saw a spark of recognition. Horror raced across his features before rage laid its claim again. He relaxed his grip and simultaneously released her and pushing her away.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" Daryl barked.

Beth pulled away and loudly inhaled. Her eyes were locked on Daryl who was watching her unapologetically. He didn't even think to ask how she was, he just attacked her.

"I came to see if you were alright," Beth snapped. Her skin still felt hot but now it wasn't just because of the fright but because she was mad too.

"What d'you care?" Daryl retorted meanly with a snort. "You don't know me."

That seemed like the final straw with Beth. "You don't know me either! Hasn't stopped you passing judgement on everything I've done!"

"I know people like you!" Daryl shouted back.

Beth was conscious of their raised voice but everyone was too far away to hear their argument otherwise they'd have drawn a crowd.

"Is that because you used to be like me? Tell me the truth Daryl, is it because you tried to end it yourself?" Beth could hear the words tumbling out of her mouth. She would never have asked such a personal question in such a blunt way but Daryl had made her furious.

"You think I tried to kill myself?" Daryl repeated shocked.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Beth said, spreading her hands wide.

Daryl grabbed the front of her shirt, yanking her close. Beth didn't even have time to yelp in surprise before he dragged her within in an inch of his body. Beth threw up a hand between them and it was only that hand on his chest that stopped them from being pulled flush together.

"After what I did t'survive you think I'd ever try an' kill myself?" Daryl hissed. "I've scratched an' fought my way through to this point. I've never been some disappointed, spoilt bitch who decided that it was all just too hard after one set back."

"I watched my mother die," Beth said in a deadly quiet voice. If she could have struck him, she would have but her hands were trapped by his larger body.

"Join the club! I watched my mother drink herself t'death. Don't hear me whining about it!" he said callously.

This time Beth managed to wrench one hand free and slapped him across the face. She had never hit someone before in her life and she was filled with shame and satisfaction almost immediately. Daryl snatched the wayward wrist and jerked it painfully down. His eyes showed shock and there was already a red mark blooming across his face.

Daryl looked down at her with those piercing eyes, looking at her like he'd seen her for the first time and maybe with the tiniest bit of respect. It sickened Beth that violence had earned that look from him. What kind of world had he lived in?

She was breathing hard now and she could feel her chest heaving against his. Beth started to feel too constricted and overcome with the heady sensation of rage. She knew she had to escape and painfully twisted herself free.

Beth turned her back on Daryl and ran away. Her wrists were throbbing from where he had grasped them; his nails had left imprints right next to her scar. Her blood was surging through her veins. She felt aimless, like she should be doing something but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what.

Beth was paying no attention where she was going and almost jumped out of her skin when Jimmy grabbed her.

"Beth, it's just me."

Beth took a shaky breath in, trying to calm herself but it wasn't working.

"What's the matter, Beth?" Jimmy asked. Even in the fading light she could see his concern.

Beth couldn't explain it. She was so mad but it was more than that. It was like anger had infected her body. She could feel it permeating all of her nerves. Beth didn't answer and so Jimmy wrapped his arms around her body, holding her cautiously.

Jimmy against her felt good and Beth was aware of all the warmth already in her body.

She tilted her head up so that she could press her mouth to his, surprising both herself and him. Some of the energy loosened in her chest.

Jimmy pulled away, looking dazed but pleased. He was a teenage boy and instantly forgot that Beth had been riled up and upset.

"Not here," Jimmy said and tugged her towards the smaller barn Randall was kept. Beth had resisted these situations before, seeing through Jimmy's little tricks to be alone but now she followed him eagerly.

As soon as they were around the corner, Beth kissed Jimmy again. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him close. Jimmy made a surprised sound but didn't pull away.

Jimmy was too timid and after the initial rush, Beth was beginning to feel that frustrated sensation creep over her body. It wasn't enough. But she didn't know what to do to reclaim what she had felt before. She had kissed Jimmy before but it had never felt like her body was on fire.

Encouraged by her abandon, Jimmy tugged her shirt up and over her head before she could think to protest, his fingers sliding tentatively over the soft skin of her stomach and back. He seemed to be waiting for her to scold him.

Beth's thoughts were too tangled to berate Jimmy for his boldness. All of this felt nice but the electricity was disappearing and Beth mourned it. She heard a footstep and pulled away from Jimmy with a start.

She met Daryl's bright blue eyes instantaneously. They were wide and stunned. They ran the length of her body, making her skin scorch in their wake, before resting on her face. If he had seemed uncomfortable around her before it was nothing compared to how mortified he appeared now.

Jimmy stuttered out a bunch of excuses that neither of them responded too. Beth blushed and so did Daryl. It was hard to tell which of them was more embarrassed.

Daryl turned away and quickly fled. Beth picked her shirt up swiftly, humiliated from being caught. If she could have teleported out of there she would have.

**AN: This is one of those cases where I'm not sure I described how Beth was feeling very well. It was so clear in my head so you'll have to let me know how you thought it went. Obviously I'm going to be increasing the Deth moments as we go on but there is still a lot of antagonising and misunderstandings to be explored. **


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl was blushing like a school boy as he all but ran back to his tent. After his argument with Beth, he'd been enraged and his heart had thundered. He was half aware that he had hurt her even though that hadn't been his intention. He just wanted to scare her and shake her up. He'd been mean and so she had slapped him hard across the face. He hadn't expected that outcome. It had startled him more than it had hurt. Daryl just hadn't seen that kind of fight in Beth before.

It made him aware of how tight he'd pulled her in to intimidate her. He'd reeled tiny Beth in close and thrown his cruel words in her face. It had felt almost good after Dale's funeral. He was used to being destructive and driving people away.

Despite all that, when he heard suspicious sounds near Randall's prison, he'd gone to investigate. It would be a perfect opportunity to kill Randall with very little fuss. It might have been Shane taking advantage of everyone's distractedness. Or worse, Carl.

Instead he'd found Beth, half naked and wrapped around Jimmy. It had stopped him dead in his tracks.

Sensing him or hearing him, Beth had managed to separate herself from the other teenager and saw Daryl standing there. Before he could stop himself, his eyes had run the length of her body. As soon as he realised what he was doing, he jerked his eyes up to her face. Her humiliation was plain on her face. Her boyfriend was stammering something in the background but for the life of him, Daryl couldn't hear a word he was saying.

Daryl knew how it looked and his brain flooded with excuses. He couldn't force a single one out of his mouth. Instead he turned away, very careful to keep his gaze above shoulder height, and left the scene.

It was very clear what he had stumbled across and it made him feel awkward in a way he hadn't expected. He'd walked in on Merle enough times to be able to make a sardonic comment and get on with his day. Jimmy had annoyed him a number of times; especially when he tried to tease him about believing in a chupcabara, so he'd quite happily give Jimmy hell.

But Beth was a teenager and now he'd seen far more of her than he'd ever expected. All his logic and reason told him that Beth was young and until five seconds ago, he'd only ever seen her as a pathetic, naive kid. Despite her slight frame, he had still seen the distinct shape of womanhood. How old was she anyway? Fifteen?

Daryl shook his head. He'd forget this! He'd make himself forget it.

...

Maggie gave her and Jimmy an accusing look as they slunk into the house, hoping to go unnoticed. They were holding a make-shift wake for Dale and it seemed that had held most people's attention so that Beth's absence had gone unnoticed.

Well, except for Maggie but Maggie wouldn't tell. They had always kept each other's secrets. Beth had found her sister's birth control that one time and had been horrified. She was a few years younger and she just couldn't understand what was so special about boys that Maggie would let them do _that_ with her? Even though she hadn't understood, when their father had appeared, Beth played the innocent, keeping her and Maggie out of trouble.

There was a curious glint in Maggie's eyes as she clearly wondered what Jimmy and Beth had been doing out there alone. Beth tried to breathe deeply and count to ten in her mind. She didn't want to blush under her sister's questioning stare and give away more than she wanted to.

Thankfully when Daryl had turned on his heel and walked away he hadn't come in this direction.

She spotted Andrea sitting by herself and made her way to her side. Andrea was nursing a glass of alcohol in her hand. She didn't appear to have drunk any of it.

Beth took a seat next to her and wondered if she should say something. She wasn't sure where to begin.

"You want one?" Andrea shook the glass to emphasise her point.

"I'm seventeen," Beth answered automatically. She could already smell it and it made her wrinkle her nose.

"I'm sure Rick and Shane won't arrest you," Andrea said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"They might not but I can't speak for my daddy," Beth replied. She looked over her shoulder and found Hershel staring at them as if he'd somehow sensed he'd been mentioned.

"Best not tempt fate then," Andrea said and took the tiniest of sips. She made a face as if whatever was in the glass was sour.

Beth never understood why adults drank liquor. It smelt like acid and they always looked like it pained them to drink it. Beth couldn't identify the liquid but she had to admit, the amber against the glass was pretty when it caught the light.

"We haven't had alcohol in this house for a long time," Beth said mildly.

Andrea nodded. "I had a boyfriend once. His mother was a past alcoholic. Their house was the same."

Beth leaned forward. As time had gone by, her concerns had stopped being so internal and now she was worried about the people in her life. "My father drank after that day in the barn. With my mother and that little girl."

Andrea quirked an eyebrow. "I think that was a rough couple of days for everyone."

Beth's scars seemed to itch with those words and she tried to discretely cover them.

"Are you going to be ok?" Beth asked.

Andrea sighed and put the glass down on a nearby table. She laced her fingers and seemed to contemplate Beth's question.

"I'm going to survive," Andrea eventually said. "I've made it this far, I don't want that to be all wasted."

It was so close to what Daryl had said earlier during their fight that Beth couldn't help staring.

"What?" Andrea asked, drawing Beth's attention to the fact she was gawking at Andrea.

"Nothing. It just reminded me of something Daryl said."

"You and Daryl talk a lot?"

"No," Beth said hurriedly and willed her face to stay the same shade. Andrea was too observant and Beth was certain that she had noted a change in her. But Andrea didn't press her. Beth decided that this conversation had strayed out of her comfort zone and decided to check with her father.

"He's not such a bad guy," Andrea said.

"Who?" Beth asked, even though she suspected she knew exactly who Andrea was talking about.

"I use to think he was an asshole, but sometimes he says something smart," Andrea answered.

Beth thought back to all the times she had spoken to Daryl and she agreed with half of what Andrea said. He _was_ an asshole.

...

Daryl was up early. He couldn't sleep. He kept replaying his fight with Beth in his dream. It was the exact same fight but Dale was sitting in a lawn chair, his stomach torn open, watching them and shaking his head. Also Beth wasn't wearing her shirt.

Daryl would force himself awake just as, in his dreams, he dragged Beth against himself. His heart was thudding and he could feel the sweat on his forehead. He would wriggle and adjust his position and try for more sleep.

But it was the same thing every time. It was very disconcerting. Eventually Daryl couldn't take it anymore. He was sick of dead men's judgements and half naked teenagers.

There was a slight breeze and it made the strung up body parts bob and weave in the wind. Daryl had been half mad when he'd started getting them together but he had come to think of them as trophies. Grizzly reminders of the odds he overcame to survive.

Now they just sickened him. He pulled his knife out of his sheath and cut it down. With a grunt he flung them away, as far as he could launch them. His side felt tight and he was worried the arrow wound wasn't healing as cleanly as it should and maybe some muscle was damaged.

"Redecorating?" He heard a voice ask wryly. He turned to find Rick leaning against a tree.

"Ya want me for somethin'?" Daryl asked.

Rick crossed his arms. "Randall."

"Can't beat him anymore, man. Kids got nothin' t'say," Daryl said, sliding his knife away again.

"I wanna go back to the original plan. Drive him out far enough and leave him."

"What's that got to do with me?" Daryl demanded.

"I want you to come with me, if you're willing."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have a life partner for those kinda errands?"

Rick looked confused. "I think considerin' Lori's condition-"

"I meant Shane," Daryl interrupted.

"Oh, you were joking," Rick said, comprehension dawning on him.

"I ain't very funny by the looks of things," Daryl said, scratching the side of his face.

"I just didn't get it at first," Rick argued weakly.

"Sure," Daryl agreed out loud.

"I need someone who doesn't want Randall dead."

"I voted to kill the boy, same as Shane. Hell, I beat the kid," Daryl pointed out casually. He wanted to know exactly why Rick was inviting him on this little adventure. He wanted to know where he stood.

"You didn't do that because it was fun."

"How d'y'know? That could be how I get my kicks," Daryl taunted.

Rick's eyes went unbidden to where the ears had once hung before returning to Daryl. "I don't think it is."

"Fine, I'll come along for the ride."

"Thanks. I need someone at my back I can trust."

Daryl fixed Rick with a steady look, trying to see the trick or his hidden meaning. There didn't seem to be any. Credit where credit was due, Rick was a man who wouldn't lead you astray. It was interesting that a man like Rick thought he could trust Daryl. Was Rick starting to figure out the things Shane had done?

"We'll leave in a couple of hours. Give you a chance to eat something and get ready."

"No problem."

Rick started to leave but then turned back. "Also, Hershel has invited us all to move into the house."

"I don't wanna sleep in there," Daryl said abruptly. He couldn't think of anything worse than being inside that house with everyone. He'd never have a moment's peace. And god, he already knew what the horny teenagers were up to. He didn't want any more exposure to that.

Rick's eyes widened but his tone was even when he said, "I'm not gonna force you but it'll be safer. Just consider it."

There was no command to Rick's voice; he was just genuinely interested in Daryl's well being.

"I'll consider it," Daryl said though internally he was thinking he'd rather set himself on fire.

...

Beth was sitting with her father as he talked to Lori about her pregnancy. They were getting her settled in their house as their guest. Beth was desperately trying not to think about what it would mean to have them all living under the one roof. Jimmy had smiled shyly at her across the breakfast table today and, when he was sure no one was looking, he winked. Jimmy had never winked at anyone in his entire life. Beth hadn't seen Daryl since the incident and she was glad of that. She didn't know how she was going to live with him when she could barely look him in the eye.

"You understand I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be," Hershel explained.

Lori smiled but it was a fragile smile. "It's not like I have a lot of options," she said before rushing to add, "no offence."

"None taken," Hershel said kindly.

Lori was nervous, Beth could tell as much.

"I'll do some reading on the subject," Hershel promised. "I've only delivered calves before."

"How different can it be?" Lori joked.

Hershel chuckled. "Well you seem in good spirits, which is good. I'll go see if I can find those books."

Hershel patted Lori's hand before leaving the two girls alone.

"You'll be fine," Beth assured Lori.

"When you were depressed, I couldn't promise you that things would work out because I didn't know. Just like we don't know now."

"Not with that negative attitude," Beth chided. If Lori thought it was strange their roles had been reversed she didn't show it.

"This is the best place for it," Beth continued. "It's safe, we have clean water. You'll be comfortable."

The second the words left Beth's mouth she could hear a man shouting urgently. Beth and Lori both jumped to their feet and raced in the direction of the shouts. Beth's mouth went dry. She prayed that no one else was dead. She frantically tried to remember when she'd last seen Maggie or Jimmy. Patricia had been in the kitchen.

Was she being punished for promising safety to Lori when she had no right doing so?

T-dog almost barrelled them over in his attempt to get to people. He was the source of the commotion.

"Randall," he started breathlessly as more people joined them. "He's escaped."

**AN: Sorry for the delay, went out of town and therefore had limited access to internet. A little bit more mellow then last chapter. I have a few more chapters where I stick, more or less, to season two but then I get my deviation on. I hope it was still enjoyable. Review, my pretties, because it makes my day. And makes me write faster. **


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl was getting restless. It was later in the day then it should have been. If Rick wanted to get Randall out to the middle of nowhere and back again before dark he was cutting it close. Didn't anybody know how to keep a schedule on this damn farm?

Daryl had been idly tracing a stick through the dirt as he waited, the sun hot on his skin, making him sweat. His crossbow sat heavily on his back. He was ready to go, eager to go. He wanted to put a little distance between him and this house. He wished they could take the motorbike. It had been sitting disused for days though Daryl had been careful to ensure there was no build up of dirt.

He angrily scratched out the stick figures he'd created. Where the hell was Rick? Probably too busy moving all their belongings inside and playing house! Daryl understood Lori was pregnant and that was going to be a priority for the man but as long as Randall stayed on this property, it was just trouble waiting to spark.

He heard footsteps behind him. He stood, groaning as his knees creaked from the pressure of squatting low for an extended period of time. Daryl was getting older. If it was Beth, he fully intended to pull out his crossbow and fire into her or himself. Whichever was easiest.

Even though he knew he would never put an arrow into that teenage body, his hand must have drifted towards his weapon anyway because Glenn held up his hands and hastened to say, "Whoa man! It's just me."

Daryl's hands changed direction and curled into the strap instead. It was automatic, a stance made comfortable from years of habit.

Glenn gave a nervous chuckle. "Who were you expecting?"

Daryl didn't respond. Instead he asked, "What do y'want Glenn?" He wanted to sound belligerent but he just sounded weary.

"Just came to check in," Glenn said mildly, his eyes shifting around, searching for an escape route. He'd come offering friendship and immediately regretted it.

Daryl felt a little guilty. He liked Glenn. He hadn't expected to. He'd been raised with all Merle's prejudices but something about Glenn was impossible to dislike. He had an innocence that never crossed into bothersome naivety like some people he was acquainted with at the moment. Glenn had a youthful optimism that Daryl had never had even when he had been the same age. Instead of making Daryl resentful, it endeared Glenn to him.

His exploits with the old farmer's eldest daughter had amused Daryl to no end also. Watching Glenn stumble after the confident young woman was more enjoyable than it should be. Daryl knew that if he had been similarly placed, he would be doing no better than Glenn. Woman confused the hell out of him generally, not that many of them had even given Daryl the time of day. Glenn gave of a harmless vibe, Daryl did not.

Glenn had also never said a mean thing in his life far as Daryl could tell. Another glaring difference.

"Just waitin' on Rick," Daryl explained, ignoring the blatant inquiry into how he was. Glenn wanted to talk about feelings then he could go on and find Carol or Lori.

"You were supposed to take Randall out," Glenn stated superfluously. Daryl blinked at the younger man, wondering where this conversation was going. If Daryl made Glenn so uncomfortable then why was he still pursuing this awkward conversation?

"That's what Rick said," Daryl responded, recognising that Glenn was floundering but still not willing to throw him a life line.

Glenn awkwardly cleared his throat. "Are you holding up alright?" Glenn asked in a rush.

"Why'd ya ask?" Daryl demanded defensively. Glenn opened his mouth to answer but Daryl barrelled over him with a new question, "what are people sayin'?"

His fight with Beth flashed in his mind and then catching her mid-way through- through something. Had she told people that he'd hurt her? That he'd been spying on her? Angry exclamations threatened to pour out of his mouth.

"No one said anything!" Glenn said quickly, baffled by Daryl's sudden change. Daryl's mouth sealed into a thin line. Even if Beth hadn't said anything, he'd come damn close to giving himself away.

"I just meant with Dale. After what you had to do."

Daryl crossed his arms protectively across his chest. "Anybody woulda done the same."

"No they wouldn't," Glenn said quietly, looking at the dirt. "I don't know if I could have."

Daryl was at a loss for words. What was it about this damn farm that had everybody thinking he had the answers to their emotional problems? Dale, Carol, Beth and now Glenn.

"He was your friend," Daryl said awkwardly. "Made things harder." Daryl deliberately ignored the fact that he himself had liked Dale, had respected the man. He had kept his growing fondness of this group a well buried secret. If he changed how he acted or admitted to it, that would make it real and make him vulnerable.

Glenn's face showed his scepticism. Just because Daryl hadn't vocalised it, didn't mean that Glenn hadn't picked up on the fact.

"He liked you," Glenn told him.

Daryl snorted. People didn't like him; they needed him or tolerated him.

"He did," Glenn insisted, "and you know he did. He thought you were a good man and he respected your opinion."

Daryl shifted awkwardly, uncomfortable with the unexpected praise. He used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead. This was the longest conversation he and Glenn had ever had by themselves.

"I'm sure he wanted to shoot me at one point or another," Daryl said dryly.

"Dude, you may have a heart of gold but you can be a little rough around the edges," Glenn pointed out so bluntly that Daryl had to smile.

"Dale was alright," Daryl said.

"Yeah he was," Glenn answered and the two shared a silent moment of commiseration and understanding.

Glenn opened his mouth to add something but he was cut off by a shout.

Daryl instantly pulled his crossbow around so it was facing forward. Glenn had paled. The last time they heard shouts it had ended with one of them dying.

"That was T-dog," Glenn said as they raced towards the noise. "He was going to check on Randall!"

The occupants of the house had already met up with T-dog outside when Glenn and Daryl joined the group. Rick came up the hill fast with Carl not far behind. Daryl took quick stock of the faces, counting who was there and who wasn't.

It didn't sit well with him when he didn't see Shane.

A figure burst out of the woods. The missing member of the group staggered up to them bleeding from a head wound. Shane had blood trailing down his face and Lori gasped.

Daryl expected Shane to be mad. He could handle an emergency calmly enough but Randall pressed his buttons so if this was Randall related, and Daryl felt certain it was, then why wasn't Shane in a fury? He looked driven and focused but not at all angry.

There wasn't time to over think that. Shane was probably just gratified that Randall had proved him right all this time. The priority was finding Randall before he found his group. If that group found them then they'd have way bigger problems that Shane being a dick. Daryl's eyes locked with Beth's for mere seconds before he dragged them away. He had caught the beginnings of a blush before he had redirected his gaze. After what he'd seen the other night, Daryl had a hard time thinking of Beth as the innocent teenager still but she was young enough that the idea of her getting abused and violated at the hands of those men made him tense. He didn't know why. She wasn't his responsibility.

Rick told T-dog to get the others back inside the house and then asked Shane to lead the way. Glenn and Daryl followed them into the woods.

Shane suggested they split up.

"Makes no sense when I can track him," Daryl said. Shane's jaw clenched briefly but Daryl didn't get to hear what he might have said because Rick intervened.

"We can cover more ground if we separate into pairs," Rick agreed.

Daryl didn't trust Shane all too much but he wasn't about to get into an argument here and now so he merely shrugged.

Tracking Randall was easy enough. He'd been moving fast but days of confinement had made him sluggish. His clumsy steps had kicked up a lot of debris. Larger, more purposeful steps followed so close they almost completely covered Randall's. Daryl knew they were Shane's.

Daryl motioned Glenn on silently. There was no telling what was hiding in the woods.

...

Andrea was pacing the lounge room, her hand going to her gun. She was unhappy to be left behind when the men had ventured out into the increasingly gloomy bramble.

Beth had seated herself on the couch and tucked her feet up under her. Patricia sat next to her, her hand propped in her chin. Her eyes were sharp and they kept drifting towards the clock. They were the only two not in perpetual motion. Lori alternated between leaning on the doorway to the lounge room and checking the door.

Maggie was consistently lifting the curtains to look out the window. Hershel, Jimmy and T-dog were on the porch, both of them holding guns.

Jimmy looked too young holding the gun. Carl had argued that he should be out there with the other males but Lori had shaken her head, causing Carl to storm upstairs. Lori had watched him go, her mouth half open as if she wanted to call after him but had no idea what to say.

Beth was absently chewing on her nails, a habit she had broken years and years ago with constant scolding from both her parents. She wasn't really aware she was doing it now but just sitting there idly, her hands unoccupied, was driving her crazy.

Maggie slumped into the couch next to Beth, forcing the three women close together.

"So what were you doing with Jimmy yesterday?" Maggie asked, keeping her voice low. Beth knew immediately that she was trying to distract herself from worrying about Glenn but she wished Maggie had picked another topic. Any other topic!

"Yes, what?" Patricia asked, dryly. Patricia and Otis had been good friends with Beth's parents so her interest was more maternal.

Beth blushed. "Nothing happened," she insisted with a hiss. She wanted to forget everything that had happened that night from the fight with Daryl to him finding her with Jimmy. The intensity of her emotions that night had ripped through her like wildfire after prolonged numbness.

Maggie's heel was bouncing, tapping out a nervous rhythm, but she paused and snorted, correctly interpreting Beth's blush as indication she had something to hide. She just didn't know to what extent. She and Jimmy had done more in that moment then they had before. Beth didn't like the awkward role Daryl had played in it. Maggie didn't know that Jimmy had kissed her before taking his position as guard. But instead of seeing Jimmy's kind eyes just before she closed hers, she saw flashing, piercing blues eyes.

"I'm going to check on Carl," Lori mumbled abruptly. She had been giving him space but her worry overrode that decision.

Beth watched her walk up the stairs and hoped that Carl was kind to his mother. She was looking more exhausted and thin than before.

Beth heard the distinct sound of guns cocking and was on her feet in an instant. Andrea was by the door in an instant, holding her own gun loose in her hand as she jerked the handle open.

Jimmy, T-dog and Hershel were lowering their weapons. Even with the porch light on, Beth had to blink to adjust to the dim lighting. Glenn and Daryl were standing at the end, frozen as they waited for the weapons to lower.

Maggie pushed past them to hug Glenn and that broke the tension.

Daryl took a step to the side as if standing too close to Maggie and Glenn embracing was undesirable. Beth bit her lip, filled with a sudden urge to shout at him that affection wasn't contagious and he had no reason to worry that he'd stop being a callous, grumpy old man.

Her fingers twitched as the mere sight of him filled her with an inexplicable agitation. Beth had never wanted to be mean to someone in her entire life.

As if he could read her thoughts, his gaze found Beth, still standing in the doorway. Beth lifted her chin up, silently telling him that she wasn't going to back down. He'd seen what he had seen and she'd done nothing to be ashamed of. This exchange lasted only seconds. His eyes seemed to mock her, not taking her new defiance seriously.

"Randall?" Hershel asked, commanding everyone's attention.

Daryl and Glenn exchanged a look.

"Dead," Daryl said perfunctorily. The two men were perplexed about something, something they were telling.

"Where's Rick and Shane?" Andrea asked.

"They ain't back yet?" Daryl asked, searching around just in case Andrea was lying.

"They're not hiding in the bushes," Beth murmured quietly, thinking he wouldn't hear. The instant tensing of his shoulders told her that she was wrong. She felt childish but elated at succeeding in offending him.

"We separated," Glenn was explaining, oblivious to the inappropriately timed battle of wills. "We thought they might have come back here when they couldn't find Randall." Glenn hesitated before Randall's name, leading Beth to conclude that they were hiding some fact about Randall's death.

Jimmy slipped his hand into Beth's. Her fingers had worked their way into a clenched fist and Jimmy had to do some awkward readjusting to make their fingers lace together. Daryl raised a discreet eyebrow at their joining, his contemptuous expression obnoxiously obvious, at least to Beth. Jimmy's fumbling made her blush and she felt all ground she may have won slip away.

There were heavy footsteps on the inside stairway. It was the rushed passage of someone frantic. Lori exploded outside.

"I can't find Carl!"

**AN: Because Carl is never in the damn house. Oh hey everybody. Yeah, no real additions to add on this bad boy. Just want to thank you and a special shout out to all the guests who reviewed. I'd love to personally thank you but obviously I can't. Also, I secretly think you're my mother getting on to review. But thanks all the same. **


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl's mind was turning over the facts. They'd found Randall, just as he knew they would. Rick and Shane could go off on as many different paths as they liked but Daryl knew he'd be the one to find Randall and what he found didn't make sense.

The kid had turned into a walker but as far as Daryl could see there was no sign of a bite. Glenn had suggested a scratch but Daryl was sceptical. There were defensive wounds on Randall but a bite took a few hours to kill from his experience, presumably a scratch was even slower. But Randall had not only died but turned in the time since he'd attacked Shane.

Which was another thing that didn't sit right the more he thought about it. He'd gone up against Shane himself and he hadn't done too well. Even if Shane simmered with anger, he'd had enough experience that he could control that rage and fight efficiently. Randall was a scrawny kid, who had been kept in captivity, bound and beaten, and Daryl was supposed to believe that he'd one upped Shane? Yeah right.

Killing walker Randall was far easy than killing living Randall ever would have been.

Daryl crouched over the body, forehead furrowed.

"What do you see?" Glenn asked. He was itching to get back to the farm and safety but he knew Daryl wouldn't linger unless he saw something interesting.

"His neck is broken. I think that's how he died." Daryl sat back on his heels and looked over his shoulder at Glenn. Glenn blinked for a second but then his eyes widened as he understood exactly what Daryl was saying.

"You think-?"

"I don't think nothin'," Daryl said standing up and brushing the leaves off his pants. He wasn't going to become the new Dale of the group, perpetuating conspiracy theories about Shane's tendency to murder anyone that got between him and what he wanted. If Glenn wanted to draw his own conclusions, then he was welcome to.

They made quick work through the woods back to the farm. Daryl wasn't anxious to be out in the woods at night personally. It wasn't long before they could see the house lights glowing through the bramble. Daryl shook his head. If they really were going to be living inside that house then it was time he spoke up about just how easy to find it was. It was going to serve as a beacon for everyone, alive or dead.

At least they had posted guards out the front and that was something. They all wanted to know what he had discovered. Despite his distraction he managed to direct a derisive look at Beth, who seemed to be less embarrassed and madder now. Hershel didn't shoot him on sight so she had kept what had occurred between her and her annoyingly noble boyfriend to herself.

When he realised Rick and Shane hadn't come back he felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle. He'd developed a pretty good intuition over the years and Daryl knew exactly when things were going to go to shit. If Rick hadn't returned then he was out there in the dark with a man that was probably getting more than a little unstable.

Then Lori appeared shouting about Carl and Daryl uttered a curse that probably would have earned him a bullet from Hershel if chaos hadn't erupted at the same time.

"I'll find him. You get back inside," Daryl instructed the women curtly.

"Like hell," Andrea retorted.

"I wanna help too," Maggie said to her father's chagrin.

"It's my son, I'm staying," Lori said determinedly. Daryl noticed not a single person did what he suggested. If they wanted to die because they were stupid then that wasn't his concern.

"You stay here in case he comes back. He can't have gone far," Daryl said to Lori before turning to T-dog and Hershel. "We split up and cover more ground."

"We should probably go in pairs," Glenn added. Daryl approved. So he wasn't the only one to notice how damn suspicious Randall's death had been.

Beth's expression had shifted from defiant to scared. She bit her lip, barely concealing its trembling. But she didn't go inside. Daryl was half tempted to throw her over his shoulder and deposit her inside. But it wasn't his place and they didn't have time. Maggie and Glenn went in one direction, Hershel and T-dog in another.

"C'mon Annie Oakley, guess you're with me," Daryl said, gesturing at Andrea. Carl was one boy, how far could he have gone?

Lori was fighting tears when Carol put her arms around her comforting her. Daryl's resolve hardened. No way were they losing another child tonight.

...

Jimmy wanted to be out looking for Carl too but he seemed to be taking a promise whispered in the dark very literally. He had not strayed from Beth's side since Glenn and Daryl had returned with news of Randall's death.

Beth's anxiety had manifested into a physicality. Her whole body was so on edge that she felt sick. The scars on her wrists burned like a herald of things to come. They say that animals can sense impending disasters and what were humans but animals. Her reaction was filling her with a sense of foreboding. It was her instinct to run away and hide but her feet were rooted to the spot.

There was nothing but silence and Lori's shaky breaths. The older woman was fighting the urge to weep. Not only was Carl absent but Rick and Shane were now missing long past acceptability. Lori was torn between overwhelming worry for her son and fear for her husband.

Beth had arrogantly presumed that Daryl's antagonism was directly related to her presence but when she really thought about it, she realised he'd been on edge the second he appeared on the porch. Whatever had rattled him wasn't inside the house; it was out there in the dark. Daryl was one of the few people who knew what Shane was actually capable of and Beth speculated about the relevance of that fact.

All Beth knew beyond doubt was that if she was out in the woods with nothing but darkness and Shane by her side, she would be pretty damn scared for her life.

Hershel and T-dog appeared first. They had doubled back from the swampier parts of their property but they didn't return with Carl in tow.

"There was no evidence he went out that way," Hershel hastened to reassure Lori. She had turned an alarming shade of grey. Carol clutched her even tighter.

"Did you see any walkers?" Lori asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

Hershel and T-dog swapped a glance. They were hesitant to speak but that in itself answered her question.

"Oh god," Lori moaned before her hand covered her mouth. It was as if speaking the word god would bring more attention to them and seal Carl's fate.

Jimmy was holding the gun tightly, his knuckles white from his grip. Beth blindly reached out a hand to Patricia, who was standing next to her. Maggie was out there amongst all that potential death and danger.

As if thinking about her had conjured her up, Maggie and Glenn came running back.

"We checked where we were keeping Randall and he's not there," Glenn explained a little breathlessly. They were logically going through places they knew Carl had visited.

When the gunshot rang out of the darkness, everyone jumped.

"What was that?" T-dog's question sounded like a curse. All guns had been pointed in the same direction though how they knew that was where the blast had come from, Beth would never know. It seemed to surround them with its echo.

...

Andrea and Daryl had been searching what remained of their campsite. Over the day they had moved most of their belongings towards their house but if Carl was missing this might have been where he had gone.

Daryl was beginning to think Carl was more of a thrill seeker than was good for him. It would make him harder to predict. But he was still a kid and familiar places were a good place to start.

"You think he's out here?" Andrea asked, keeping pace with him easily.

Daryl flashed her a shadowy look but the impact was lessened due to the dark.

"I think he followed Rick an' Shane," Daryl confessed.

"Can you track him?"

"I'm good but it's too dark. His tracks are too small." He hadn't wanted to say any of this in front of Lori. He didn't want to be responsible for worrying her further.

"Then what are we doing looking here?" Andrea pressed, baffled and annoyed by feeling useless.

Daryl shrugged. "'Case I'm wrong."

They had just made it as far as his bike when the shot fired. Its solitary nature was ominous.

"That wasn't Shane's or Rick's gun," Daryl observed hurriedly.

"How do you know?" Andrea demanded but Daryl ignored her. He strung the crossbow over his shoulder and quickly searched through the saddle bag of his bike. Merle's gun was missing again.

"That little shit!" Daryl exclaimed.

"What?"

"That was Carl." It explained why there was only one crack of gun fire. Carl wasn't confident enough to take down a walker without the aid of a firearm and too stupid to realise his mistake.

"It'll have every walker in the state crawlin' in this direction," Daryl spat, exaggerating in his anger, as he ran for the house. Andrea followed in his wake, managing to ask a number of questions still.

"Shouldn't we look for him? Do you think he's with Rick and Shane?"

"We have to get them to turn off those fuckin' lights," Daryl shouted, not understanding how it wasn't obvious. "He might be better off alone," Daryl said to her other question.

Andrea didn't ask what he meant by that so he assumed Dale had shared his less than flattering perspective on Shane's trip with Otis.

The house loomed large up ahead and Daryl was thankful that despite his age, hunting for his dinner had kept him in good shape. He was going to need all his stamina before the night was over, he could sense it in his bones. It took everything he had, not to just keep running past the house. He could lose himself in the woods easily enough. But as he caught sight of that line of expectant faces he realised with a sinking belly that he couldn't just abandon them.

Before he even got there, he saw whispered discussion and pointing. At first he though Andrea and himself were the targets but they were pointing over his shoulder. Daryl turned to look, whipping his crossbow around at the same time.

It took him a few minutes of squinting into the gloom to see the shapes cresting the hill. It was an adult and Carl running fast. At this distance he wasn't sure if it was Rick or Shane but Daryl knew that whoever wasn't there was dead. He didn't even get a second to feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch who hadn't made it because they were followed by a herd of walkers so big that it made Daryl's heart skip a beat.

His brain frantically turned over the situation. The sheer size of that group would rip trees from the ground if they got riled up enough, which they certainly would be now. Fresh prey and the thrill of the hunt would have whipped them into a frenzy by the time they reached the house. Take into account the fact that they were woefully ill prepared to deal with a siege and Daryl could see there was only one option and that was to run.

The figures cut into the largest barn on the outskirts of the farm and Daryl was pretty confident it was Rick with Carl. He managed to feel a little pleased by this discovery before focusing on his impending death.

"There a basement or a cellar?" T-dog was asking frantically, over Lori's screeches for her son and husband. Only Patricia and Carol combined kept her from running for them.

"We have to run," Andrea said urgently, surmising the situation succinctly. Glenn nodded in total concurrence but the Greene girls looked stricken. It was pretty clear why once Daryl took in Hershel's set and determined face. There was no chance he was leaving his farm undefended.

Daryl sighed, a woefully understated reaction to the emergency. "It's as good a day t'die as any."

Hershel nodded and pulled his shot gun in tight against his chest.

T-dog realised they were all serious and cursed. "Shit, man."

Some of the herd had surrounded the barn but others began branching out. It would be minutes, if not moments, before they reached the house.

Daryl raised his crossbow and walked off the steps with Hershel next to him. The least they could do was attract some attention away from the house.

...

Beth felt oddly calm. Probably because it just didn't seem real. When the walkers had clambered out of the barn, she had never thought she would see so many in one place ever again. There were at least ten times that many invading her family land. Daryl had been right. She could have laughed out loud as the absurd thought filled her mind. Daryl was an ass but she was just as guilty of being everything he accused her of. Naive, unprepared and weak.

As she watched her father step away from the house to protect it she felt fear so acute it stole her breath. The hundred dragging footsteps and gurgled moans only added up to one thing; an inescapable, painful death, not just for her but for everyone here.

Carol had started to cry and Lori was frantically searching for a weapon. Patricia stood in the one spot, her hands clasped together in prayer. Maggie had hurried to switch off the lights but it was too late. Events had already been set in motion. Only Andrea was composed as she checked the bullets she had in the chamber and switched her safety off. She calmly tightened her belt which had a knife attached and then followed T-dog and Glenn off the porch.

Beth was struck by the realisation that she didn't even have a weapon. This whole time she had considered her world view changed and she had never bothered to pick up a weapon. Even if she found a gun, she only had the one lesson to fall back on.

She drew close to Jimmy, who watched the oncoming pack with wide eyes. The creatures hadn't realised there were more people yet but they would.

The barn started smoking and Maggie gasped. The light flared against its nocturnal backdrop.

"Carl!" Lori screamed upon seeing the flames. Her panicked cries carried and the creatures doubled their speed.

"C'mon, we can't stand here," Patricia cried. Lori's anguish had driven her to action. She gestured them inside. "We can get out the back way!"

Carol and Maggie both had to pull Lori back; otherwise she would have run for the barn. Beth made to follow but Jimmy grabbed her arm. "I got an idea!"

Beth had a split second to make a decision but then she followed Jimmy. She had no idea what his plan was but she quickly realised he was tugging her in the direction of the RV.

They were lucky no walkers noticed their passage. There were gunshots now and other cries. Jimmy opened the door, passing Beth his gun as he climbed in.

The keys were on the dash and Jimmy crowed triumphantly. "I'll drive, you shoot."

Beth stared down at the gun in her hands like it was a rattle snake. How hard could it be to aim and point? She clambered in beside Jimmy and found an open window to prop the gun in. The RV roared to life and the lights illuminated the path ahead of them. What seemed like thousand of glassy eyes were reflected in the glow.

Beth swallowed. This may be Beth's last night on the planet but the least she could do was take as many of these things with her.

**AN: So I'm more or less at the point where I'm doing my own thing. I hope you're all enjoying it and a big shout out to anyone who reviews/follows/faves this story. Because you are insanely awesome. **


	10. Chapter 10

Daryl had to rub his eyes as the RV came clattering past them. It had sputtered into life with the same death rattle it always did and, not for the first time, Daryl marvelled that the vehicle was still working.

It had battered its way around the living people, splattering walkers like rotten, dangerous bugs. What made Daryl pause was the flash of blond he caught from the passenger side. Andrea was not far behind him and that only left one other blond on the farm. What was even more concerning was the gun that was attached to Beth's hand.

The gun discharged and the bullet hit the ground not that far from Daryl's foot. The look of absolute horror and surprised indicated that Beth had had no more control over that gun than he had over the sun rising in the east. He could have sworn she mouthed 'sorry' at him as she flew by.

"Jesus Christ," Daryl muttered as the RV continued, swerving to hit as many of the walking corpses at possible.

They were heading towards the burning barn and Daryl acknowledged that was smart. Whoever had set the barn on fire would need a hefty distraction to escape.

The sheer numbers of the dead were pushing them back towards the house and Daryl tried to angle himself away. He didn't want to get backed into that little area, surrounded and trapped.

The walkers were getting in close now. He had to switch to his knife. It was long enough that the entire knife could slide in between the eyes and the tip would just appear at the back of the skull. Daryl avoided sinking the knife in so far. Every time he had to remove his weapon from the sucking, greasy wounds, that was seconds wasted.

Andrea had a similar idea and was subtly changing the direction. She was on the other side of the pack to Daryl and Hershel was at her side. He was killing walkers with a detached precision that belied his previous belief that they were just ill.

One particularly heinous walker lunged at Daryl, gnashing its broken teeth. He kicked it in the stomach. "Get off," he grunted. There was no way these things were just sick. They were dead and they were hungry. The walker reeled away and lost its priority place to attack Daryl. Two female walkers reached for him now, both dressed in dresses so similar that Daryl wondered if they knew each other. They were young, maybe mid teens, and their skinny legs were now a mottled purple.

Killing these two left a bad taste in Daryl's mouth but he didn't hesitate. At this point, killing them was a mercy.

He heard some shouts and saw that T-dog and Glenn had stuck together but hadn't avoided being pushed back towards the house. Daryl grimaced but there was nothing to be done about it now. He continued to lash out with knife and where he could he used his crossbow.

They were dropping around him fast but another one always seemed to be there to take the fallen's place. The one advantage Daryl had was his stealth. He was moving quieter, killing quieter, than anybody else on the farm and so he had a smaller pack following him.

If he didn't stop, eventually they'd give him enough quarter to climb a tree or get to one of the cars. If luck was really on his side, then he'd be able to get to the bike. There was a twinge of guilt in his stomach but he couldn't carve a path back to their side. It was suicide. It was best if he could use his bike to maybe draw some of them away.

...

At first, the closest Beth came to hitting a target was the bullet that sailed into the dirt at Daryl's feet. That hadn't even been a deliberate shot and the man had looked at her stunned.

The next few times the bullets passed harmlessly through the herd but sheer density eventually ensured that she was hitting them. She just had to keep the gun levelled at a certain height and the bullet did the rest. By the time they pulled alongside the barn Beth was deaf in one ear and her shoulder ached from the kickback.

Jimmy had been driving for years and had expertly navigated the mechanical beast through the masses, killing them more effectively than Beth had managed with a gun.

"Help them," Jimmy instructed. Beth instinctually knew what he meant. There was a roof hatch for air in the middle of the RV and Beth used the table to climb up and push the hatch open. She swung herself up, adrenaline giving her strength she didn't know she had. Walkers were pounding on the door to the RV and Jimmy had shoved both feet against it to hold it shut. They had to hurry. Beth climbed to the top and held out her arms for Carl. The young boy didn't hesitate. He leapt to the roof of the RV and Beth steadied him so he stayed upright.

Rick gestured for Beth to move slightly. She could quite easily assist Carl who was still short and slight but Rick was a full grown man. Beth quickly side stepped and Rick jumped, landing with a groan and falling to his knees. Beth and Carl hurried to help him stand.

There were sounds of chaos from inside the RV. Rick and Beth both looked inside at the same time and saw that the glass was broken. Jimmy dashed down the middle of the RV, following the same actions as Beth. The walkers surged inside and Rick and Beth both reached down, grabbing whatever part of Jimmy they could. They both hauled, Beth's muscles screaming in protest.

At one point she felt certain that one walker was going to close its blood stained teeth around Jimmy's ankle but at the last minute Jimmy was lifted out of the way. He came out of the roof hatch like a champagne cork out of a bottle.

Beth released him but the sudden movement forced her back. The roof of the RV was slippery and she over balanced. Before she could scream, she felt the world shift out from underneath her and she was falling. Jimmy had reached for her and so had Rick but she still hit the ground hard.

The walkers spotted her immediately and came for her. The snarling and groaning filled her with terror. Beth got her feet under her in an instant. She dashed away and the walkers followed her. Beth could hear Jimmy screaming her name but she didn't dare look back. Her legs had grown weak during her days on inactivity and she was thankful that she had started those walks. It had infused her with some stamina and adrenaline did the rest.

As she circled around the barn, the heat from the fire washed over her body like a wave. She didn't stop and she used the barn to skirt around, hugging the corners as close as she dared. Up on the hill, against all odds, she saw Maggie and Patricia. Maggie had a knife and Patricia was using an unwieldy shovel. Beth was heading in their direction when another section of the herd swamped them. This time a scream was torn from Beth.

She couldn't see much through the chaos, the inky night and her own movement but she did see the moment when Patricia lost her own fight and a walker took a vicious bite out of Patricia's shoulder. It reared back with ecstasy, mouth full of stringy muscle.

Beth sobbed as she ran. She wanted to go to Patricia but she could do nothing now. Maggie had seen her when she screamed and there was a similar look of anguish on her sister's face. Beth wished that she could go to Maggie but the walkers were driving both sisters in opposite directions.

Maggie seemed to be shouting something to Beth but Beth couldn't hear it over her own laboured breath and breaking heart. She hadn't seen her father and didn't even want to think about what that meant.

Beth was filled with a desire to kill every single walker in sight but she had no weapon so instead she ran and ran some more. Her throat burned from the smoke but she didn't stop.

...

Daryl knew that they had lost the fight. He wasn't sure at what point he realised it but he knew they couldn't defeat this foe. There were too many screams and the barn was lit up like a bonfire. If there were anymore walkers to be found in the woods, it was only a matter of time before all the commotion led them here. He'd lost sight of Andrea and Hershel long ago. Glenn and T-dog had vanished into the house and Daryl could only hope that they'd managed to get the others out the back door. There were less gunshots now and that could only mean two things. Either the ammo was running out or people were dying. Neither option was good.

He could still see the RV, just in the distance. The fire lit up the metal so it gleamed in the dark too. Unless it was his imagination the vehicle was rocking back and forward. The walkers had claimed it. Daryl's throat was tight. Had Rick and Carl gotten away? Was Beth lying on the floor of the vehicle missing pieces of her body? He'd warned her hadn't he? He'd told her that she wasn't a survivor so why didn't she stay where someone could protect her? Why did no one listen to him?

This endless loop of questions wasn't helping and Daryl was getting weary. There were only so many times a man could stab another person in the head before it became tiring. Even if the rotten walkers were easier to kill than a live person.

As much as he wanted to help everyone here, and by god he actually did, he knew that he couldn't. Daryl saw the bike was within reach. Just a few more meters. Just a few more kills.

Daryl used his crossbow to take down one walker who was too close to the bike before whirling to kill the three following him. He made himself move fast because he knew a fast target was harder to take down.

When he got to the bike, he snatched the arrow out of the corpse on the ground. It yielded itself with a wet pop. He wiped it on the creature's pants before hastily storing it. He could afford to waste a weapon.

The bike came to life beneath him, vibrating his whole body seemingly in tune with the pulsating energy rippling through his body from the fight. The sound was loud and comforting to his ears. The walkers came rushing for him now but they were too late. Daryl edged up close to the house, revving loudly. Some of the walkers turned away from banging on the closed door and came ambling after him.

Daryl smirked wickedly now. They would never catch him on this and if he could give anyone still in the house a chance to get out then that would be very good.

Daryl turned the bike in circles, spraying dirt in his wake and making the walkers stumble trying to track him.

When he was confident that he had the attention of half the walkers on the farm, Daryl flew off down the road towards the gate. If he wasn't paying so much attention to his surroundings he might have missed her. At first Daryl wasn't even sure that what he was seeing was real and not just a projection of his over stimulated brain. He wasn't a stranger to hallucinations when his body was being pushed to its limit.

But it was Beth, sagging forward even as she ran. There were two walkers behind her that were just out of arms reach but that would change soon. Beth stumbled and Daryl accelerated, his slid his bike neatly between her and the walkers in a manoeuvre that would have toppled a less skilled rider. He missed Beth by an inch. Daryl unsheathed his knife in one fluid movement, killing the two walkers without even having to get up off the bike.

Daryl swivelled in his seat and reached an urgent hand down to Beth. She was sitting in the dirt looking up at him as if he might be imaginary. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and soot. When she didn't move, Daryl felt a flair of frustration.

"You stupid? Get on!" He instructed her harshly. That curtness made her shove herself to her feet. She clambered onto the bike gracelessly.

Beth wrapped her arms around his waist not a minute too soon. The rest of the walkers were just closing in. Daryl took off again, leaving the walkers in his dust once again. Beth's arms were tight around his waist. If she was holding on any harder, it would make it difficult for him to breath.

Daryl caught the strong scent of smoke on her skin and in her hair before the wind picked up and he could only smell clean air rushing past his face. It felt like pure freedom on his skin.

The rush of survival could only last for so long. When the walkers had vanished from the bike's mirrors, the elation of eluding them started to ebb.

He became aware that the wind was chilly and sent shivers up his spine. A quick glance at Beth's arms revealed her skin was more pale than usual, raised in a hundred Goosebumps.

Beth's shoulders were shaking and Daryl realised that she was sobbing. Her cheek was pressed hard against his shoulder as if her grief meant she didn't care she was using something attached to Daryl. Her blond hair was unbound and tendrils started to brush the skin of his neck.

Daryl had no idea who had survived and who hadn't. He had no words of comfort for Beth so he let her cry against him in silence while he tried to plan. His first thought wasn't for finding a safe haven to hole up in; it was to find the others. Daryl shook his head at the insanity of it. But he could have sworn that he heard another car on the farm and the meant someone else escaped.

His heart felt heavy as he remembered the last time he had to find someone missing from the group. Sophia's absence had just resulted in despair. Daryl sat up a little straighter. Sophia! Where they had left the supplies for Sophia on the highway.

The horizon was tinged a muted pink. Dawn was coming and none of them had slept. There was a heavy weariness working its way down to his very bones.

Daryl found the highway with relative ease. Beth stirred against his back as he wound his way around stagnant traffic. Daryl winced at how loud his bike suddenly seemed with cars on either side.

"Where are we going?" Beth asked. She had to lean forward to speak right into his ear. Daryl didn't get to answer straight away; he braked as a smaller car appeared in front of him, hidden by a larger truck. Beth was thrown tight against his body, her lips grazing his ear lightly.

"Sorry," Daryl muttered, blushing inexplicably.

Beth mumbled an equally awkward apology and even over the noise of the engine he could identify her embarrassment.

Daryl located the spot with the message and the food. He turned the bike off quickly and waited for Beth to slide off the back of the bike before he got off. She discreetly rubbed her thighs and Daryl guessed it was her first time on a motorcycle.

"This was where we lost Sophia originally," Daryl said softly. Beth's eyes widened when she saw the supplies, her hand reaching eagerly for a bottle of water.

Beth gulped greedily before passing the bottle to Daryl. The water ran over his parched throat. He sealed the bottle and started to take stock of the situation. There was nobody in sight and the silence was ominous. If they were the first to get away, there might be a chance that somebody would still show up. But Daryl had come here on a hunch. There was no telling where the others had gone.

Beth leaned heavily against the car. She was exhausted and was far dirtier than Daryl for once. They could stay here for a bit but they'd need to find shelter soon.

Daryl grabbed one of the candy bars off the car and opened it before handing it wordlessly to Beth. She stared suspiciously at him for a moment before taking the offering. Daryl couldn't blame her for regarding him that way. He had never been overly nice to her. On the other hand, he was particularly thrilled that she was the one he was stuck with. Almost any other person on the farm would have been more helpful. Even flying solo would have been preferable because that way he'd only have to look after himself.

But it wasn't like he could just leave her on the side of the road. She didn't even have a weapon.

There was a groan and the pair of them stiffened. It was some distance away but nothing carried like the sounds of the dead. Daryl raised his crossbow. He got low and crept around a few cars until he had a better vantage point of the road. Further down, walkers were spilling out of the woods, heading in their direction.

Daryl wanted to pitch a fit. Stuck with a defenceless little girl and the countryside was overrun.

He slunk back to where Beth was waiting. Daryl could see the pulse leaping in her throat as adrenaline started to take hold.

"We have't go," Daryl grunted. He shoved some food from the car into the bags on his bike, followed by a single bottle of water. He didn't want to take everything in case his original guess had been right and someone still came here.

"But what about the others?" Beth asked, her voice louder than his. He could hear the beginnings of hysteria seeping in and realised the girl was going to panic.

Beth opened her mouth to demand more information or maybe even to scream. Daryl clamped a hot palm over her mouth before she could do either.

"Right now, we ain't got a choice," he hissed urgently. "We need to find some shelter an' we can come back tomorrow. So shut up an' _point_ the direction of the closest town."

Beth's gaze heated at his words but anger was better than terror. She pointed behind them, back the way they had come. He was relieved she hadn't pointed in the direction of the walkers. Daryl removed his hand.

"Get on," he instructed curtly, pointing at the bike and Beth hurried to comply.

Daryl kicked the motorcycle back into life and tore away without even checking if Beth was holding on to him. If the girl couldn't even be trusted to cling on to the bike then she was as good as dead anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

Beth was so tired her eyes felt gritty. Her breathing was harsh in her own ears, when she could hear it over the constant growl of the motorbike anyway. There were walkers everywhere and the sight of them brought fresh tears to her eyes every time. She refused to weep though. She pushed the sobs down until she could feel them thick and heavy in her throat like a physical object lodged there. She had already cried enough into Daryl's vest and she refused to show him more weakness even though he seemed oblivious to it anyway.

Beth kept as much space as she could between them but the shifting movement of the bike meant that more often than not, her torso was pressed to his back. At first she could only feel the hard lines and tension in his body but, as time passed, she became aware of a subtle tremble that was the only indication that Daryl was as exhausted as she was.

They needed sleep and for that to happen, they had to find safe shelter. They were heading towards her home town and so it was Beth's responsibility to think of somewhere to go. She was trying to think of suitable places. The more practical she was, the less she thought about Patricia.

The high school was overrun, she knew that much at least. They'd never really talked about the state of the town in front of Beth and now she wished she'd gone out of her way to quiz Maggie about one of her many runs to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy had big glass windows and had been picked clean so Beth assumed that it was easy access and not great for sleeping.

There was one place that she thought of. It was on the outskirts of town and discrete. People only talked of it in hushed tones because it was an undesirable business to have in a small, god-fearing community. Beth wasn't even supposed to know it existed but it had been a topic of endless fascination at her high school. The other kids had talked about it in judgemental voices but the red that usually crept into their cheeks hinted at an underlying curiosity. Scandal always did that.

Beth was referring to the local brothel. She had never seen it and it was somewhat of an urban legend. It could even be a myth; she'd never seen it with her own two eyes. But rumour had it underground, with a grey door that required a password or it wouldn't open.

If they could get inside, presuming all the facts were correct, then they'd be safe for a night.

Beth shouted directions to Daryl, who followed them precisely until they were in what could only be described as the industrial section of a small town.

The grey door looked like it led to nothing more than a shed. Daryl didn't look overly impressed and she could almost see his thoughts trying to catalogue the places they had passed, thinking about something better.

Daryl tried the door and it didn't open. He rummaged in the motorbikes saddlebag for a minute before producing two pieces of metal. He inserted them into the lock while Beth kept watch. The air was cool and Beth shivered. Winter was on its way, she could feel it.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?" Beth asked.

"Same place I learnt my interpersonal skills. Concentrate on the road!" Daryl scolded. Beth bit her lip and wished she'd manage to escape with someone else. She needed a little kindness right now and Daryl Dixon was the last person equipped to give it.

The door gave and Daryl was smug. He looked around as if someone had bet he couldn't do it and he'd just proven them wrong. When he only saw Beth, his face fell a little. She didn't need his expression to tell her he was disappointed that he was stuck with her.

Daryl fished out a flashlight next and hung his crossbow over his shoulder for easy access. The rest of the bag he shoved unceremoniously into Beth's arms.

"Keep behind me," he instructed gruffly. The shed was just a diversion; it sloped down immediately into stairs.

"Should I lock the door?" Beth whispered.

Daryl gave her an exasperated look. "We might need ta'get out quick." He shook his head and started down the stairs. Beth stayed silent now. It wasn't her fault she hadn't spent half her life fighting for survival. She didn't think of things like having a clear escape route. That was going to have to change but Daryl could be less of a dick about it.

There was another door at the bottom of the stairs and Daryl wordlessly passed her the flashlight. She was glad she didn't need to ask a question to know that he wanted her to keep the light pointed at the lock. While Daryl worked on the lock, Beth took the opportunity to look around. There was nothing outstanding about this stairwell. The steps were metal and functional, and the walls were bland cement.

This time Beth could hear the click of the lock surrendering to Daryl's tools. The sound carried in the cool, dry air. Daryl opened the door and pointed his crossbow into the empty space. Beth shifted so the light could illuminate the room. When nothing moved, Daryl took the flashlight back, his fingers brushed Beth's in the process. Beth tried not to flinch but failed and Daryl noticed.

He tugged the flashlight away roughly and stepped into the room.

"Stay here," he commanded Beth and she obeyed, despite wanting to kick him in the shins for his tone. The room was small. There was one bed and a little bathroom. There was no one here, living or dead. Daryl nodded his approval. Two doors, two locks, no windows.

Leaving Beth standing there, he jogged up the stairs to shut and lock the first door. Beth was left standing by herself in blackness. It was only for a minute but it was long enough that all her fears came rushing back and her heart started to pound.

She was ushered into the room and Daryl repeated the process behind them. There were candles on the bedside table and Daryl produced a lighter. The candles gave a soft glow to the room and Daryl switched off the torch. He didn't want to waste the batteries.

Now Daryl took the time to actually look around the room. His forehead furrowed. Whatever he was expecting down here, this bedroom, lavishly designed with red, purple and an abundance of velvet, was not it.

"What is this place?"

"A brothel," Beth said, sitting down on the bed. She was too exhausted to care what had happened on it before today.

Daryl's eyebrows shot up and he took a dramatic step back from the bed. And he called her the child.

She could see a number of curses and complaints hovered on the tip of his tongue but he didn't say them because any idiot with eyes could figure out this was a smart place to hide.

"What's the matter, Daryl?" she asked blandly. "They only had sex in here, no one died."

Daryl's eyes hardened and it looked like he blushed but it could have just been the excessive redness of the room that was giving his cheeks that ruddy tinge. Beth would normally have gone a different shade too, talking about sex, but she was too numb and exhausted to do much more than blink. At least she would have had an excuse. She was a well bred, wholesome girl, Daryl looked like the kind of person who lived in dive bars and associated with these people. Her mother would have chastised her for thinking such a thing. Prejudice was neither kind nor Christian.

Beth kicked off her boots and pulled her feet up on the bed. The covers and sheets were tucked in. They smelt a little musty but underneath was the tang of lemon laundry detergent. She watched Daryl through sleepy, lidded eyes. He was against the wall, looking lost.

"Do you think they're alive?" she mumbled.

Anyone else would have reassured her. "Probably not," Daryl said. And she hated him. But sleep claimed her and she knew nothing else.

...

Did he think anyone had survived? The honest answer was he didn't know. But Daryl had been thrown by their surroundings and embarrassed she seemed less bothered by them than he did. He had wanted to hurt her. So he'd said the meanest thing he could think of, extinguishing hope that her sister and her father and her boyfriend were still breathing.

Those big, innocent blue eyes had regarded him mournfully for a beat but then they'd slid shut. Daryl felt guilt roil in his stomach. A brothel of all places! How did Beth even know where this was?

He should have explained it wasn't the sex that made him hate these places; it was the amount of times he'd had to drag Merle out of there after he'd snorted, drank and fucked all their money away. Daryl's money more specifically, since Merle could never hold down a job. But it was none of Beth's business. It was amusing that the oldest profession managed to find its way into every corner of society. He actually had a healthy dose of respect for prostitutes. Most of them he met he could relate to. They'd had a hard life and were willing to get their hands dirty to survive. It wasn't ideal but neither was starving or living on the streets. Just like him, they were cunning and tough. Nothing like the sleeping teenager in front of him now.

It was cold in the room; there was a ventilation shaft to ensure a fresh turnover of air and to prevent smoke from clogging the room. Beth shivered in her sleep and Daryl knew he should go over there and pull some blankets around her. But he didn't.

He eyed Beth the same way he would a dangerous animal. He didn't want to get too close and he didn't want to touch her. He couldn't explain this sudden instinct. Maybe he was just delirious from sleep deprivation. Instead he lowered himself into a chair that was more decorative than comfortable, propping his chin in his hand. How many men had come down here, twisting the sheets with their writhing and moans? He noted the juxtaposition of pure Beth's pale skin against the deep purple of the covers.

Daryl slumped down in the chair and closed his eyes. The top of it seemed to dig into the back of his head but it felt good to shut everything out. One by one the muscles in his body began to loosen. If he could just get a few hours of sleep then he would be able to think up a plan. Beth knew the area and Daryl knew how to keep them alive. Surely between the two of them they could track down some survivors. He didn't want to think about what the next step would be if they found no one. That would leave him and Beth alone.

The image of Beth on the bed flashed on the screen of his closed eyelids. Something about this girl made him want to get as far away from her as possible.

...

One minute Beth was asleep then just as suddenly she was awake. Her cheek was cushioned by the palm of her hand that had somehow eased itself up and under her head. The candle had burned a few centimetres down, the only thing in the room that showed the passage of time.

Her body ached; she could already feel it like a steady thrum. She was also more alert. The numbness of before had all but vanished; edged out by a pounding grief and mounting fear.

Daryl was asleep in the chair across from her. His head had fallen forward and she could hear his soft breath. Sleeping he looked younger and more tame. The suspicion lines around his eyes had smoothed out. She wondered if Daryl ever smiled. He might have even been handsome if he smiled.

Beth blinked, surprised to find herself studying him in this fashion but his slumber was giving her an opportunity she hadn't had before. Normally Daryl seemed to have an almost supernatural knack for feeling exactly when he was being looked at. His facial hair was scruffy and made him look old to Beth. She didn't know his exact age or even if he was that old but to Beth the distinction seemed very clear. Daryl was a man, she was a teenager. His cheekbones were cut at a nice angle though and his lips were full. And Beth remembered just how striking his blue eyes could be.

Beth suddenly felt uncomfortable and heated, like she had blushed but it had spread throughout the rest of her body. It made her squirm and shift on the bed. The instant she moved, Daryl's eyes snapped open.

They locked on hers and Beth froze. She felt a flutter of fear that uncurled in her stomach but dissipated when the intensity of his stare mellowed into irritation as the facts of the situation caught up with him. If he had been hoping she would disappear while he slept then he was out of luck.

"You could have slept on the bed," Beth offered, even though she was glad he hadn't.

Daryl glared at her like she said something to offend her. He pushed himself to his feet and strode into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

His exit caused the tension to deflate and Beth already felt more at ease. She found the bottle of water and took a few sips while she waited for Daryl to reappear.

When he did he was a lot more composed, though he never seemed to lose that restless energy he embodied.

"Water doesn't work," Daryl said. That saddened her. Beth wanted nothing more than a shower to wash the remains of last night away.

"Too bad," Beth commented and passed him the water bottle which he accepted. There was no thanks but he didn't snap at her either which was basically what passed for gracious for Daryl. She didn't mention that thing he had said to her last before she fell asleep, wanting to forget it because, if she put too much stock in it, that would make it true. Knowing Patricia was dead was enough for now.

As difficult as it was to admit, Beth needed Daryl. She didn't know what their course of action should be and she was looking at him to guide them.

"What do we do next?" she eventually asked.

...

Daryl retook the seat that had served as his bed. If it was uncomfortable the first time he sat down then it was worse now. Beth was looking at him with the worst of emotions. Hope. He knew what she wanted him to say but he couldn't. As much as he wanted to find the others, and not just so he'd have some competent people at his back, he had to be cautious. Once the walkers had lost his trail they would also lose their direction and purpose. They'd probably keep putting one foot in front of the other but it might be days before the majority of the herd cleared out of the area. Not to mention Randall's old group might still be lurking around here somewhere.

"We should find another farm close by," Daryl said, scratching the back of his neck. He stretched his legs out in front of him, looking at the garish painting on the wall. Anywhere other than at Beth.

"We aren't going to the highway?" Beth asked, fighting to keep her voice even but not quite succeeding. She had better not cry or Daryl was going to lock her in the bathroom.

"Maybe tomorrow," he said, knowing that he might miss their opportunity to see the others but not willing to take the risk. Besides, if he knew Rick at all, the man would see the missing supplies and draw some pretty educated conclusions. He would wait in the neighbourhood and Daryl would be able to track them. Presuming Rick survived. Best not to mention that detail to Beth.

"We have'ta be patient," Daryl explained, naming a quality he tended to lack except when he was hunting.

Beth nodded and didn't argue, what choice did she have? They both knew that she would have been dead if he hadn't swooped in to rescue her at the last minute. Daryl was just glad the action hadn't made her gawk at him like he was some well disguised hero. At least she was realistic about who he was.

Thinking about how defenceless she was made him scrutinise her. He must have been out and out staring because Beth crossed her arms and turned pink. "What?" she demanded.

Daryl wrinkled his nose. "First things first. We need t'get you a weapon."

**AN: Two quick (possibly unrelated) things. One: I'm not watching season four until the first two episodes have aired so I'm getting in early and requesting no spoilers if you happen to be reviewing etc. The second (that'll make me sound a little like a self absorbed wanker): if by chance you're following me on twitter (you should, cause I'm awesome), you should give me a shout out because twitter doesn't send me notifications and I'd like to be able to follow back. There was also a typo last chapter that fills me with face palming shame, so I'd just like to apologise for that little slip up. You're all wonderful, wonderful people. **


	12. Chapter 12

Daryl asked where the closest hunting shop was and all Beth could do was blink blankly at him for a few moments. While her town was small, it wasn't so small she could instantly summon directions to every shopfront that it included.

Beth wracked her brain, trying to remember what she'd overheard Otis saying back when the outbreak first began. She pretended not to notice Daryl clench and unclench his fists in frustration.

"There is one not far but it might be picked clean," Beth said slowly.

"Most likely they took the ammo and guns, leavin' the rest behind," Daryl muttered. Most people didn't have enough skill or confidence with blades and arrows. But bullets were finite and loud. Beth needed a weapon that she could use time and time again but wouldn't require much immediate coordination.

"I don't know how to use a gun properly anyway," Beth confessed.

"You're tellin' me!" Daryl snorted, thinking of how he had very narrowly missed a bullet in the foot. Beth blushed as she remembered. She had had one lesson with guns; she couldn't be relied on to stay calm and aim accurately. Remembering that accidental shot made her think of Patricia. Beth rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand as if she could push the image out. So far she'd had no luck. She also hadn't cried anymore. Maybe if she wasn't so weary of the whole damn situation, she'd manage a tear. Or perhaps she was saving them in case Maggie and her father hadn't survived. She wanted to be able to weep for them if something bad happened. Like bullets, tears were not unlimited. Eventually you adapted.

If Daryl was aware she had become withdrawn and introspective, he didn't show it. He was either too preoccupied or just didn't care. If Beth had to hazard a guess, she would say he was avoiding dealing with anything emotional. He was too observant, too good a hunter, not to pick up on every little cue.

"Is it close enough to walk?" Daryl asked, reorganising their belongings into the bag. This place was a one night only sanctuary.

"Yes."

"We'll leave the bike," Daryl decided. "Too much noise."

There was no more discussion as Daryl made for the stairs. Beth wanted to let him go off by himself, crawl under the bed and hide until this was all done. Picturing Daryl's look of absolute disdain if she did that got her up the stairs, one foot at a time.

She was dreading what they'd find once they left this little bubble of untouched civilisation but she couldn't not know her families fate. She couldn't not try to find them.

Daryl made sure that it was locked behind her and Beth blinked. It was just past dawn again and Beth realised that they had slept and spent longer underground than she had thought. One whole day and night had passed. This made her heart ache with anxiety. She wanted to tear apart the town, screaming her loved ones' names until they answered. But Daryl wanted to hunker down one more night before they returned to the highway. She didn't know how long would pass before he would let them near the farm.

She felt exposed and vulnerable in the crisp morning air. It was deceptively calm and the early light painted the world in soft pastels. Beth wrapped her arms around her body, feeling stiff and sore. Her skin was streaked with dirt and soot. She'd need to wash soon.

Beth wordlessly pointed the direction to Daryl and he led the way. His crossbow was loose in his hands. It wasn't pointed but neither was it slung harmlessly along his back. He wasn't leaving anything to chance. He stayed close to the buildings, using the awnings to provide as much shelter as possible. Beth's step was light but she felt loud compared to Daryl's almost silent tread.

Beth was scanning her surroundings so fast she felt certain her eyes would spin out of their sockets if she kept it up. The longer they were outside the more her heart seemed to race. They passed a small side street. Daryl went by quickly but Beth swore she heard a noise so stopped. A walker ambled to its feet from its half concealed position behind a dumpster.

It wasn't a noisy walker. Beth could hear its rattling breath but it didn't moan at her as it advanced. Beth hysterically wondered why it breathed when it was dead. Was it instinct? Behaviour that crossed over from life to death?

Beth was rooted to the spot, unable to breathe herself. It was the walker that killed Patricia. It wasn't possible, it wasn't logical but that was what Beth saw.

She opened her mouth to scream, to unleash all her panic, when a hand clamped tightly over her face. She was pulled backwards against a hard chest as a crossbow reached around her body and Daryl killed the walker efficiently.

For a second they stood there, Beth's back against Daryl's body, his hand covering her mouth. She was staring at the dead walker. Her chest was heaving as she fought to breathe through her nose. Eventually the feeling subsided and she pushed Daryl's hand away from her face. This was the second time he'd had to muffle her. Even though she knew he'd done it out of necessity, it didn't stop Beth from being angry. She jerked herself out of his grip and Daryl didn't seem to notice. He walked until he reached the walker and plucked the arrow out of its skull.

His turned on Beth and she could read all of his annoyance in his judgemental blue eyes. She expected a scolding of some sort but he just walked past her.

"Keep up," he snapped tersely over his shoulder.

...

The front of the shop was quaint and folksy, which matched up with what Daryl had seen of the town so far. Well, with the exception of the brothel. That had thrown his understanding of this smallish Christian community. He didn't know why he had been so surprised. No one knew how to gossip like a small town community but on the same note no one knew how to keep a secret better than a small town local.

The glass was still intact but the door was unlocked. Daryl swung open the door, putting himself decisively between Beth and the entrance. He made a point of not looking at her. After she had frozen in the alley, he didn't want a casual glance to be interpreted as concern. Which he was. Concerned that is. The paralysing fear on her face had been disconcerting and inexplicable. The sluggish walker had been a particularly easy kill but his intervention had only happened seconds before Beth started shrieking. It would have brought every walker within hearing distance and both of them knew how many that might be.

The bell tinkled softly and Daryl winced. He had been too caught up thinking about the girl at his back to consider the potential threat right in front of him.

He paused for a second on the threshold but he didn't hear any movement inside. He stepped in cautiously, still on edge but nothing leapt out of the darkness.

Daryl stepped aside and gestured Beth in. "Hurry up! We ain't got all day," he snapped crossly. She was what had distracted him from something he would have anticipated if he'd given it five seconds of consideration and so he took it out on her.

Beth's eyes flickered mournfully over him and then stepped past him, careful to keep a controlled distance between his body and hers. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her lack of reaction. He had gotten so used to the flustered anger that was her usual response to his meanness that this sadness was jarring. It reminded him of the days she lay catatonic, waiting for something, maybe to die.

Daryl didn't like unpredictability. He liked being able to read people and know how they would react. Beth was difficult. He had to scoff internally at that thought. Who would have thought the pampered farm princess would throw him for a loop? She bounced from lashing out, to closing down and god knows he hadn't forgotten the incident with Jimmy. Just ten minutes ago she had angrily pulled herself out of his grip, flinging his hand away from her mouth. That was probably an instinctive reaction to his touch.

Daryl's shoulders tensed as he watched the teenage blonde absently trail between the aisles, looking without actually seeing. Daryl had spent too long standing there gawking uselessly. He could feel rage beginning to spark low in his body and didn't know the exact reason beyond being certain it had something to do with Beth. He locked the door behind him and placed his crossbow on his back so the strap pressed familiarly into his chest.

He turned his attention to the shelves. There was little to no ammo left and definitely no guns. Those had been cleared out too. He idly examined the archery section. There was a bow there. It was the only one left and it was too small for most adults to comfortably use, which probably explained why it was still there. He cast a discrete glance at Beth who was still being uselessly detached from the situation. If a walker burst in now, she would be dead before she even had time to realise how stupid she was being. It was a good thing Daryl was there to make sure that didn't happen.

He forced himself to stop glaring at her vacant expression and actually look at her arms. He bit his lip, soft, pale skin that had never lifted a heavy object in her life. They were thin with no muscle. She would struggle to load the crossbow at all, let alone when being rushed by walkers.

Daryl made to walk past the crossbow but then at the very last minute, he hesitated. He grabbed it and put in the bag he had bought. If they survived the week he could start teaching her how to use it. What he really needed to find was a knife she could use now.

Daryl found the knife section and that was still pretty full. Most people had only thought about guns when they started to get attacked by walking corpses. Most people weren't willing to get up close and personal, not wanting to get their hands dirty. That would change the longer this cluster fuck dragged out for. Ammo was going to run out long before the walkers did.

Beth was out of sight and Daryl's heart rate sped up until he found her staring at the fishing section. He resisted spitting a string of curses at her. If he thought she was looking at it because it was practical, he'd be less cranky but he knew better.

He strode up to her. He reached out to grab her upper arm, prepared to drag her to the knives, but stopped himself. Daryl remembered her reaction to his touch and clenched his fingers, forcing his arm down by his side.

"Knives are over here," he said gruffly, jerking his chin to point the direction.

Beth followed him placidly and Daryl shook his head with disgust. "What's wrong with you? Are you stoned?" he demanded.

"I wish," Beth replied immediately.

"Was that a joke?" Daryl asked incredulously. Couldn't she just react like she was supposed to for once?

"My mother's dead, my brother's dead, Patricia's dead, my father and my sister might be dead. Who's joking?" Beth said with those dead eyes.

Daryl's fingers itched to slap her, just to see something else in those blue orbs. Instead he stepped in close, violating that carefully constructed distance she had been putting between them. Beth's eyes widened and she had to tilt her chin to see his face. He saw the first spark of a reaction and, even though it was fear, it was gratifying. With deliberate precision, he wrapped both arms around her upper arms, digging in too tightly so Beth would feel just the wrong side of pain. More fear. Good!

"You hopin' to join them?" Daryl asked, his voice deadly quiet. "Just tell me now an' I'll make it all go away."

Daryl could smell vanilla, underneath the sweat and smoke. He could see the pulse leap furiously in her neck as she realised what he was offering. Beth frantically pulled away from him and he seized her wrists before she could escape too far. His grip was strong and he traced a thumb along the scar on the inside of her wrist.

"Well?" he asked, flicking eyes up from her white skin under his fingers to her aghast face. This was all just a bluff but she was buying it and he didn't even feel the tiniest bit of guilt at scaring her like this. For all her big words about regretting her decision he knew it wasn't strictly true. He needed her to decide to live, to want to live. He wanted to make her feel that decision all the way to her bones, so that the only reason the blood ran through her veins was for survival. He could keep them alive but only if she helped. Beth needed to step up and become his partner, not a hindering dependent.

"I don't want to die," Beth stuttered out, scared that he had actually reached the end of his patience with her grief and would kill her. She was half right. Daryl didn't have much sympathy to give in the first place but all his stores had expired. He'd given it to Andrea and to Carol and now he just had none left over for Beth.

Daryl released her abruptly and she staggered back rubbing her wrists. She stared at him wide eyed.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"I don't care," Daryl said with a shrug. "Now come down and pick a blade."

Daryl turned and walked away, pretending his chest hadn't gotten tight when she'd said she hated him.

**AN: I'm very tired but I enjoyed writing this chapter. The animosity between them is so much fun and of course there is that underlying **_**something **_**that neither of them is willing to identify and acknowledge. Still very much an up and down relationship but I hope it's not too repetitive. **


	13. Chapter 13

**HAPPY WALKING DEAD DAY!** **And remember, no spoilers please. **

It was hard to breathe. Beth felt like the world was spinning as she fought to ease all the tensed muscles in her body enough to suck some oxygen into her lungs. She wanted to reach out and steady herself but she couldn't move yet. She was like a stunned animal in head lights. Her vision had narrowed to Daryl's retreating back.

When he had grabbed her, fear had exploded in her mind like a cache of fireworks. Daryl was strong, had she know that? Her skin showed four red fingerprints on both arms. He had scared her so much it had turned to hate, his complete lack of empathy fuelling that fire. Telling him had been satisfying, even if the words seem to roll off him like water. When he took a step back he was instantly less threatening, the intensity all but vanished, replaced by his standard surliness.

Beth hastened to follow him. He was examining knives critically.

"Would you have killed me?" Beth demanded, fury making her bold.

Daryl didn't even look up from his task. He was checking the sharpness with the pad of his thumb. "Probably not."

"_Probably_?" Beth cried. She shoved him hard.

Daryl staggered sideways and glared at her but it induced none of the terror his cold emotionless stare had earlier. "I have a knife here!" he scolded. "Also you might wanna keep it down."

Beth's jaw dropped. He offered to kill her and then acted liked they'd just been talking about the weather. Now he was chastising her like a child misbehaving around weapons. She literally had no words.

"'Sides, I don't have to do shit. The way you're goin' you'll be dead in a week."

Beth stared at him to see if he was still testing her, still pushing her, but she quickly realised he absolutely believed it. Her mind was reeling. Everything he'd just done was, in his sick twisted head, to help her? Beth clenched her jaw, furious that he thought she was so useless. She had said over and over again she wanted to live but now she wanted to survive so bad her body ached. And it wasn't for her family or even for herself. She wanted to live so that she could shove it down Daryl's throat and say, show's what you know!

"Give me that knife," Beth snapped, awkwardly wrestling the handle out of Daryl's grip. He hissed as the movement slid the knife across his thumb, making it bleed.

"Careful," Daryl growled, putting his thumb in his mouth.

"It's only shallow, you'll live," Beth said callously. Daryl quirked an eyebrow at her shortness and pulled the thumb out of his mouth. He examined the cut with a wince.

"At least we know the blade's sharp," he noted. Beth stood there holding the knife and began to feel a little silly. She knew nothing about blades or the criteria for selecting a good one. It felt bulky in her hand and no wonder, the blade was almost as long as her forearm. It was not a very practical blade for a beginner like Beth. Daryl was trying to hide a smirk but wasn't successful.

"Oh shut up," Beth said witheringly.

Daryl smugly held a hand out for the blade which Beth primly deposited back into his palm. Now that she knew his hand could wrap the entire way around her arm, they looked impossibly large. Daryl slid the large knife into the sheath, dropping it into the bag with him and then handed her a different knife.

This one was smaller and felt much more comfortable. Beth gave it a few experimental swings testing the weight and movement, while Daryl shook his head.

"Gonna have to show you how t'use that. The rate you're goin' you're just gonna hurt yourself. Or me," he added as an afterthought.

"I could live with that," Beth muttered and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Well put it on your belt and let's be on our way."

Beth looked at Daryl and then the knife. Did she tuck it in?

Daryl released a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a swear word. Before Beth could react, he reached out and grabbed the waistband of her jeans, dragging her towards him. Beth's pulse raced, not knowing what to expect. There was no aggression on Daryl's face, just mild exasperation.

Daryl reached down and undid the buckle of her belt. Blood rushed into Beth's cheeks and she had to fight her natural instinct to run away. Daryl was focused on his task, his long fingers nimble. He eased the end of the belt out of the first loop on her pants.

"Knife?" he requested, not looking at her. Beth put it in his hand. Daryl easily lifted a section from the sheath which Beth hadn't even noticed. He threaded leather through the hilt and Beth felt the knife drop heavily against her thigh.

Daryl pushed the belt back through the pant loop again and then eased it through the buckle, tugging the belt tight against her hips. Beth knew it had to be taut to prevent the knife from sagging but the jerking of the belt against her skin made her gasp. Daryl looked up startled, as if surprised to find a living breathing girl under his ministrations.

His blue eyes locked on hers and Beth was more aware of her flushed skin than before. She unconsciously licked her lips and Daryl looked down abruptly. Unless Beth was going insane then she could see colour creeping into Daryl's face as well. He took a quick step back and then crouched down to zip the bag. He was not looking at her.

"We should find a farm out of town to hide out in," he said roughly.

It took two tries for Beth to say, "I think I know a place." Her throat was so dry.

Daryl nodded curtly and rose to his feet, hefting the bag over his shoulder. Both of them knew it was now too heavy for Beth to carry.

"Let's go get the bike," Daryl said.

"When can we go to the highway?" Beth blurted out. She hadn't meant to sound like she was pleading but she was desperate to see if there was new evidence about survivors.

Daryl hesitated. "Tomorrow morning, first thing," he promised softly. It was the nicest thing he'd said to her.

...

Daryl was pretty close to smacking his head against the wall. What had he been thinking? He hadn't, and that was the problem. Sometimes he was so practical and fast acting he didn't think about the consequences. That's exactly how he ended up undoing a teenager's belt. What must _she _have been thinking?

Beth had gasped when the leather of the belt bit into her skin a little too tightly and Daryl had looked up to realise that she was blushing. And then she had to go and lick her god damn lips and suddenly he was blushing too. It had all started off so functional and now he found himself picturing Beth's pink lips as she moistened them. His stomach roiled and he shook his head. He needed to dislodge that image from his brain and fast. It had no right being in his mind.

He set a quick pace through the streets, mindful of walkers. There were a few but the pair of them easily dodged around their shambling lunges. In the mood he was in, Daryl felt pretty confident he could kill the walkers with a look.

The bike was where he had left it. Daryl didn't realise he'd been scared for it until he felt overwhelming relief when he laid eyes on it. He quickly loaded the new weapons onto the motorbike.

Daryl sat down, maybe with too much enthusiasm. The bike settled him, made him feel steady again. That lasted exactly as long as it took Beth to take a seat behind him and wrap her arms around his middle. He instantly tensed, his spine going rigid. Daryl didn't know what the hell was wrong with him now.

"I know a house," Beth said.

"Is it too close to the farm?"

He could feel Beth shake her head at his back. He turned the bike on and Beth released his middle long enough to point the direction. Daryl took off down the street and Beth clutched onto him. As they were leaving he saw a few walkers scrambling out of nooks and crannies but he went by too fast for them to get their trail. He had to shift his position a little as they drove up to the front door. Beth's new knife was digging into his back at an awkward angle. She was going to have to adjust to that knife. Daryl was going to make it a rule that if she was wearing clothes, she was wearing that knife.

The house was some way off the road but not on nearly as much land as Beth's farm. It was far enough away that a casual passerby wouldn't see it and there were a number of turns once they left the main road. The house was smaller than Beth's as well but smaller was better in Daryl's opinion. It was a single storey home though Daryl would have preferred a top floor to hide out in.

Daryl walked up the porch steps, listening intently for any noise and Beth followed close behind. Her fear of what might be hiding in those woods overrode her anger with him apparently. Daryl dropped into a crouch after trying the doorknob and finding it locked. He was just fishing his lock picking supplies out of the bag, thankful again for a history of petty crime, when Beth suddenly materialised by his side.

"What are you doin'?" He demanded, alarmed at her sudden proximity. Beth didn't answer, just rose on to her tip toes and groped along the top of the door frame.

Beth lowered back on to her heels with a grin. There was a key in her hand.

"This is the country," she said by way of explanation. Daryl hastened to his feet and Beth used her hip to bump him out of the way. Her triumph was making her bold. Daryl scowled at her back, not willing to acknowledge that she'd been useful for once. Well once didn't make a habit. Beth eased the door open and the hinges squeaked with months of disuse.

The air was musty and stale. It had been shut up for too long and this family had done what the Greene's hadn't and boarded up all the windows.

"Leave the door open," Daryl said thickly. Beth had covered her nose at the unpleasant smell but Daryl knew it could be worse. There was no scent of decay in this house which was a stroke of luck. Didn't necessarily mean there weren't walkers but it was a good sign. They could lock the door after they checked the house was clear of walkers, the fresh air would do the home good.

"Follow me," he instructed her curtly, "And get ya knife out." It would be easier to leave her behind on the porch but he needed to her to start learning. Beth obliged, looking a little silly holding a knife. The blade was an alien addition to the golden teenager. Her expression was tentative and Daryl reconciled himself to the fact she'd be nothing but decorative in an attack.

Daryl did a quick sweep of the house. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen. Not many places for a walker to hide but he checked everywhere anyway. When he was satisfied, he went outside to move his bike around behind the house and locked the door on the way back in.

The door had two locks and Daryl bolted both closed. Then he found a chair and jammed it under the handle for good measure. They were as safe as they could be. Provided they kept nice and quiet, a herd should just pass right on by.

Daryl went back to the living room. Its dominating feature was a fireplace and a mantle. Beth was standing in front of it, staring at something on the mantle. Daryl stood behind her to get a glimpse of what was so fascinating. There were a group of teenage girls all dressed up in formal wear. He was shocked to see Beth was one of those faces. He almost didn't recognise her. Probably because she was smiling.

He reached around her to pick up the frame. "You know the family who lived here?"

"My friend Karen," Beth said, biting her lip. "They ran after a few weeks. They heard there was a sanctuary not too far from here."

Daryl shook his head. Every man and their dog thought they knew about a sanctuary. So far none of the rumours had held up. He replaced the frame with a certain degree of gentleness. To him it was a bunch of faceless teenage girls but to Beth it was a record of the dead.

They stood there awkwardly for a minute, neither of them sure what to say. Eventually Daryl went to check the bathroom.

"It should work," Beth's voice drifted behind him. "Most of us had wells out here."

Daryl twisted the handle of the shower and could have cried with joy when water came out. He tried both hot and cold but the shower seemed set to freezing. That didn't matter much to Daryl. He would suck up a few minutes of icy water to be clean again.

"You can take first shower," he offered to Beth. "I wanna see what food they have."

Beth nodded before looking down and picking at her shirt. Of course she didn't have any spare clothes.

"I'll just get some of Karen's," Beth said, as if reading his thoughts. She sounded uneasy about wearing her potentially dead friend's clothes but there were no other options. Beth was gone for a few seconds but then reappeared looking queasy. She had spent no longer than absolutely necessary in that room. Her behaviour was irritating but Daryl couldn't find it in him to yell at her. He was starting to feel like there were ghosts in this house too. But the hell if he was going to leave. Ghosts can only haunt you, the dead could kill you.

Beth closed the door and after a few seconds he heard a shriek and a very un-Beth-like swear word. He realised he hadn't told her there was no hot water. Daryl couldn't help it. He started to laugh.


	14. Chapter 14

Beth tried not to think about how strange it was to be in a house she had spent a lot of time in growing up. She desperately avoided looking around the bedroom, a place she had been for a number of sleepovers. It was all just too familiar and that familiarity seemed obscene considering all that had happened. She grabbed the first clothes she could find and exited.

Daryl looked bizarre standing there in the living room. It was the strangest meeting of her new life and her old life. He looked like he wanted to say something but then thought better of it. Beth was glad he kept silent; she wasn't in the mood just yet for conversation. Especially not the kind of conversations Daryl liked to have.

She shut the bathroom door behind her and her joy at seeing a working shower surpassed her discomfort. She dropped the clothes on the bench and reached for the hem of her own shirt. It was plastered to her skin with sweat and soot. There was even a smattering of blood decorating the front. Beth wrinkled her nose and made to peel it away from her body when she hesitated. Her eyes went to the door handle. It wasn't that she expected Daryl to burst in on her but knowing he was out there made her feel vulnerable. She gently pressed the lock into place. She hoped Daryl hadn't heard the click of the lock and was out there shaking his head with disdain this very minute. Beth's cheeks heated even though he couldn't see her. She wasn't really certain why she bothered. It was clear that Daryl didn't have any interest in her naked body so she had no reason to be worried that he might see it.

Gritting her teeth, she forced Daryl from her mind. She closed her eyes while she undressed, leaving her soiled clothes on the floor in her wake. The knife she placed carefully on the countertop next to the clean pile of clothes. Now that she could examine herself properly, she could see the deep stains the smoke had left on her skin.

Beth hastily dived in the shower and turned both dials. Icy water poured over her skin and a cry bubbled out past her lips. She frantically jumped back out of the spray, swearing, and tried altering the shower knobs but there was no change. With her bare back against the tile, Beth shook her head. Over the thrum of the water she could hear a masculine chuckle. She realised Daryl had known the hot water didn't work and was having a good laugh at her expense. She had never heard him laugh. She didn't know he _could_ laugh.

_I hope his face cracks_, she thought bitterly.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her wimping out, Beth took a deep breath, steeling herself, before plunging back into the running water. Being hit by the cold water again made her muscles tense and her chest feel tight. The breath she had inhaled seemed trapped in her body as she fought to keep herself under the running water.

With shaking hands, Beth reached for some shampoo. She hastily scrubbed the grit and smoke out of her blond hair. She used the shampoo to lather up the rest of her body and quickly turned full circle so that the suds could be washed away. The water felt like a hundred little needles stinging at her skin. But watching the water change from black to clear was gratifying.

It was the fastest shower she had ever had. Beth shut the water off and reached for the closest towel. She was thankful that there was one hanging close by since she had forgotten to bring one in herself. She could just imagine Daryl's look of consternation if she had sent him searching through the house on such a domestic errand. The image was enough to make her grin.

Towelling off, Beth could see a number of bruises dotting her body. She didn't remember hurting herself but that whole evening had been a rush of chaos and panic. She pulled on the sweatpants she had found. She had to roll up the bottoms because Karen had been a few inches taller than Beth. Once she had tugged on the clean shirt, she was ready to face Daryl. Her skin was pale from the cold water but the sensation of being clean made Beth feel more human than she had for a while. It made her feel more in control and she was determined to find her family.

Daryl had obviously made himself at home and riffled through the belongings of the house. Beth bit her lip and resisted lecturing him about the sanctity of privacy. He hadn't done it maliciously and what he had scavenged had primarily been survival related. There were some cans of food and a single candle. It wasn't lit yet but its presence alerted Beth to the fact it was actually quite dim in the room. The sun was already setting and the boards on the window certainly didn't help.

Daryl was digging through a bag on the ground, pulling out weapon after a weapon and laying them on the small coffee table. Beth didn't know he managed to fit so many in the bag but it didn't surprise her.

"The shower's free," she offered superfluously, just for something to say. She wasn't sure why she bothered anymore, half of what Daryl said was stinging and cruel, but for some reason the silence was worse.

Daryl had a tiny smirk on his face. He had enjoyed his little joke by not warning her about the shower's temperature. Beth wanted to be mad but the smirk was more playful than harsh, which was a pleasant change.

Daryl pulled out some of his own clean clothes and Beth was envious he didn't have to raid anyone's closet.

Beth heard the muted sound of a lock being turned over and realised two things. The first being that Daryl had definitely heard her do the exact same thing. But secondly, it appeared she made Daryl feel equally uncomfortable. She couldn't figure out why a grown man was set on edge by a simple teenager. It probably had something to do with the scars on his back and his determination to let as few people as possible see the remnants of his childhood.

While Daryl showered, Beth wandered from room to room. She tried to see out of the windows but couldn't and then she tested the locks on the door. The house seemed secure and Beth couldn't understand who would risk leaving this miniature fortress.

Daryl was in there no longer than she was. When he reappeared, Beth realised this was the first time she had seen him without him being covered in dirt or blood or both. His hair was dripping wet and looked longer because of it. The absence of the dirt should have made the blue of his eyes less startling but it didn't. They still dominated his features. Clean, he actually looked younger.

Daryl suddenly narrowed his eyes and Beth realised she was staring, studying him in the half light of the living room. Her face felt like it was suddenly on fire and she wished he hadn't noticed her scrutiny. She averted her eyes quickly, internally cursing her traitorous skin. She couldn't wait until they found Maggie, Hershel or Jimmy. Actually anyone would be a nice addition. Someone to ease the tension that was always there with Daryl, simmering beneath the surface.

...

Daryl was no stranger to a cold shower. He'd had more than one in his lifetime. He wished it could have been a hot one though because he knew the heat would ease the ache out of his tight muscles. The stress and adrenaline had wreaked havoc with his body. Sleeping in the ridiculous armchair hadn't done his neck any favours either. Still, small blessings. He was able to get any blood and dirt off his body, which was the most important part.

Daryl hadn't expected Beth to be waiting just outside the bathroom, hovering in the middle of the living room, uncertain what to do with herself. It only took him a minute to realise she was staring at him. It made him shift uncomfortably. Her eyes looked even bluer and more luminous now that her pale skin was flawless once again. When she blushed, Daryl realised she had been studying him subconsciously but for some reason that only served to enhance his discomfort.

Daryl distracted himself by fumbling through his pant pockets for his lighter. Beth curled up on the couch, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Once he had lit the candle, the room felt instantly warmer. It was only one candle though so the room was thrown into stark contrasts of shadow and light. Daryl looked at the tins of food he had managed to discover. There weren't that many of them. His stomach felt empty but he knew the practical thing to do would be to share one between them. He had no idea how long they'd be hiding out for or when it would be safe to go seeking food.

Daryl lowered himself onto the ground and gestured at the selection of canned food. "Your choice," he said.

Beth bit her lip and leaned forward to look at the labels. "It's a tough decision," Beth murmured and Daryl snorted. She was being sarcastic. The options were cold beans, cold spaghetti or cold tomato soup. None of them looked gourmet or even satisfying.

"Flip a coin," Daryl suggested, reaching over and fishing a stray bit of change out from under the couch. His forearm bumped Beth's ankle but both of them pretended not to notice.

"Heads for spaghetti, tails for beans."

"No soup?" Beth asked.

Daryl shrugged. "I only found a fork."

A ghost of a smile passed over Beth's face. Daryl immediately liked her better. The sulking had been excruciating and awkward.

Daryl flicked the coin into the air and it capturing the light as it turned itself over and over. He caught it deftly and placed it on the back of his hand, covering the outcome with his palm. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Beth to call it.

Looking a little harried, she said, "tails. No, wait, heads!"

"Typical woman," Daryl grumbled. "Always changing their minds." It was tails and both of them looked at the can of beans bleakly.

Beth sighed, suddenly resigned. She reached over to pick up the can of beans and the opener. With ease she opened the can and Daryl passed her a fork. She took a tentative mouthful and then another one.

"Don't eat it all," Daryl complained.

"Sorry," Beth said sheepishly, handing him the can.

"You 'xpect me to eat with my fingers? Fork too."

"There's only one fork?"

Daryl gestured at the kitchen which was now just an inky black room. "You're welcome t'go look for another."

Beth blanched and abruptly passed over the utensil. Daryl didn't know why he hadn't found more things in the kitchen. It looked like it had been cleared out, but why take cutlery? What use would that be on the road?

Daryl scooped up a pile of beans and ate them. He was hungry enough to not care that they were bland and soggy. It was better than trying to fall asleep with emptiness gnawing at your belly. He knew that from experience. He and Beth ate in silence, passing the food back and forth with no conversation. And, all things considered, it was comfortable. Maybe it was because they were both still bone weary from everything that had happened. Daryl could barely muster the energy to eat, let alone produce an antagonizing glower. Beth's eyes kept darting toward the framed photo on the mantle so often that Daryl actually felt a pang of sympathy. He and Merle had lived a nomad life out of necessity; he'd never really created ties to any one place. So Daryl couldn't really imagine what it felt like to be in the same place but to have everything be completely different.

Beth's hair had dried and now it looked fluffy. It made her look younger and more vulnerable. She yawned and quickly tried to stifle it. Beth pressed a hand to her mouth and looked sheepish. Daryl realised that she was afraid to show him a human moment, afraid he'd misinterpret it as weakness. He realised he'd given her enough reason to be wary of him and suddenly he felt a little nauseated. Daryl wanted to blame the cold beans but he was also too tired to lie to himself.

Daryl cleared his throat. "You should get some sleep. It's been a long day."

Beth had such an expression of gratitude on her face, Daryl instantly felt like a bastard. He curbed his natural reaction, which was to lash out at the person who had made him feel uncomfortable.

Daryl realised they had to figure out sleeping arrangements but he wasn't sure the best way to bring it up. He didn't want her too far away just in case there was trouble but how did he say that without sounding suspicious?

"You can take-" Daryl began, pointing toward the overtly teenage room, but Beth blanched and he changed tact. "-the parents room."

Beth nodded, pushing herself to her feet. "Where will you sleep?" she asked meekly.

"Couch looks comfy enough," he noted dryly.

Beth looked sceptical and Daryl had to grin. "Better than the floor at any rate."

"Yeah well no one said you had to sit on the ground," Beth grumbled.

Daryl arched an eyebrow. "Was that sass I heard?"

Beth looked surprised that she had it in herself to talk back to Daryl and Daryl was glad the incident in the hunting store this morning hadn't been enough to scare her in to complete submission. If he was honest with himself, and why not, he _was_ exhausted, he liked her best when she was standing up to him. When she was showing that she had some spark, some will.

"You'll get over it," Beth shot back after an extended pause which took most of the bite out of her retort.

Beth started to walk towards the bedroom when Daryl called after her. "Just keep the door open. Just in case."

In the dark he could see Beth curl up on the bed, her blond hair a bright spot on the covers. Daryl eased his own aching body on to the couch, blowing the candle out as he went. It was wonderful just to be able to stretch out. The darkness felt very empty for the few moments it took for his eyes to adjust. He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

The house was silent except for one thing. Beth's shaky sobs reached his ears even though she tried to muffle them with a pillow. For the first time in a long time, Daryl felt helpless. He couldn't do anything except close his eyes and pretend to be asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Hello everybody. In less than 24 hours I will have watched both episodes of season four and I'm outrageously excited. This is true. I think the next few chapters will have moments that readers will love and moments you all will hate. I just adore these love/hate relationships and these two are going to be very up and down. Fair warning, right? **

Beth woke up feeling more tired than when she had fallen asleep but she didn't think it was a weariness that more rest could slake. It was a listlessness that wasn't physical but mental. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. They felt gritty and she knew it was because she had cried herself to sleep. She had felt the sobs building and as much as she tried to force them back, they had bubbled over. Instead of fighting them, Beth had buried her face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle them.

Eventually she had fallen asleep but it had been a fitful, restless night. There had been silence in the other room and Beth hadn't known whether Daryl was asleep and just not a heavy breather or awake and staring at the ceiling too. She hoped he had slept all the way through her tears.

Beth sat up and looked into the living room which she could see easily from her vantage point. The couch Daryl had been lying on was now empty. Beth's pulse began to race a little faster and she stretched her hand out for the knife on the bedside table. She sat there listening for a moment and heard nothing.

Beth's hands shook as she gingerly edged the knife out of the sheath. The naked blade should have reassured her, after all she wasn't defenceless, but the fact she felt compelled to have a weapon terrified her.

Her bare feet silently touched the ground and she crept closer to the open door. Peering around, she still couldn't see Daryl or hear him either. Any hope that he was in the house vanished. With a pang of horror, she noticed that the bags that had littered the floor last night were gone too. All the food had been cleared away as well. Beth blinked in disbelief. She wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction was. Daryl had just left her. Even after all their clashes, Beth never saw this coming.

The door was unlocked and the chair was no longer wedged under the handle. Beth refused to fall apart and sealing herself back inside the house seemed like a sensible first step. Beth tucked her hair back behind her ear with her free hand and kept the knife ready in her right hand. She was just reaching a trembling a hand up to the lock when the door swung open, hitting her wrist hard.

Beth stifled a cry of pain and raised her knife threateningly. Daryl's eyes flicked from the knife in her hand to her wide, fearful eyes.

"Expectin' company?"

Beth lowered the knife and exhaled with a rush. "I thought you left!" Obviously that wasn't the case but Beth still sounded accusatory.

"Just saddlin' the bike," Daryl said cautiously. His eyes still hadn't really left the knife. "I was just 'bout to come and wake you."

Beth nodded wordlessly and ran a shaky hand through her hair. The short burst of adrenaline had gone a long way to waking her up. It didn't last long enough to shield her from the new throbbing in her wrist. The hard wood had collided directly with her delicate wrist bone.

As if he read her mind, Daryl pointed at her wrist with a casual gesture. "That'll bruise."

Beth waited for him to provide some more commentary but he was just stating the obvious.

"I figured," Beth bit out, aggravated that Daryl seemed to think she was completely stupid. She swivelled on her heel and stalked into Karen's bedroom. She shut the door behind her with a click, just managing to catch a glimpse of Daryl's very baffled face.

She couldn't wear the knife and sweat pants. She managed to find a pair of denim shorts that would have been knee length on Karen but fell to mid-calf on Beth. She stole some clean socks and put on her boots from yesterday. She felt calmer now that she was dressed. There was even a bit of excitement creeping in. They would go by the highway and see if they could pick up the trail for her family. They might even find them as early as tonight. She would appreciate not having to be with Daryl by herself, though guilt was starting to creep in for automatically assuming that he had left her.

...

Daryl watched the door shut in his face. It seemed Beth had been put in to some kind of mood and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. Females were difficult enough to decipher. Apparently teenage females were a thousand times worse.

Very nearly getting a knife to the face hadn't been the best start to the conversation but shouldn't he be the one that was mad? He couldn't believe that she thought he would leave her. Sure, he'd thought about it a bunch of times but he wouldn't actually do it. Not at this point. It annoyed him no end that no matter what he did, he seemed to rub her the wrong way. Because it was fucking mutual.

When Beth reopened the door, she was wearing jeans and looked a little more composed.

"I'm sorry I lashed out at you," she said magnanimously.

"Yeah, well you might want to keep a handle on your mood swings from here on," Daryl suggested sharply.

Beth blushed and he didn't know if it was embarrassment or anger. He didn't rightly care.

"C'mon. We're burnin' daylight," he told her curtly. Beth followed him wordlessly out the front door and towards the bike. He was happy that she had strapped the knife around her hips. At least she had listened to that advice. In fact, of all the things that had happened this morning, almost being stabbed actually made him the least mad. He was pleasantly surprised that she had tried to defend herself against what she had seen as a threat. Maybe there was hope for the girl yet. If she stopped being a hormonal bitch, that is.

He should bring up the crying, that would show her. But he didn't, because that felt like too low a blow. He wanted to shake her silly but he didn't want to hurt her like he had once wanted to. The tears were a secret between her and the dark and Daryl would pretend to not know.

Beth tucked herself up against him on the bike. Her grip felt different today. She was stronger and more confident. Daryl raised an eyebrow but uncharacteristically didn't comment. Maybe he should have given her a knife way back when he first met her. He looked down and could still see the sliver of purple, raised flesh. On second thoughts, she couldn't have been trusted with sharp objects then. That thought made him mad again. He wanted to shout in frustration at himself and at her. Why did she have this affect on him and why did he let her?

He swivelled in his seat so he could look over his shoulder. He hadn't expected Beth to be so close, inches away at the most. Her lips parted with shock at his abrupt movement and immediately drew his attention. He glowered at the girl.

"Let's get a few things straight," he growled. "You and me? We're stuck together for the foreseeable future. Now I'd like't make this as painless as possible. You don't have t'like me, I don't much like you sometimes, but we gotta work together. So you can bitch and moan at me all ya like but there's got to be some trust."

Beth opened her mouth but Daryl barrelled over her. "Ain't finished!" His eyes locked with hers. "I. am. not. leaving. you!" Each word was precise and punctuated. Beth stared at him wordlessly.

"Nothin' to add?" Daryl asked, leaning in.

Beth shook her head, pressing her lips together.

"Well thank Christ for that," Daryl said and kicked the motorbike into gear. He wasn't a hundred percent certain why he had said all those things but he felt good saying them. He wasn't lying. There needed to be a certain element of trust between the two of them. He needed Beth to cooperate, to not hesitate when he gave instructions in a fight and he needed to know she was going to have his back, well, as much as Beth could. Beth had settled into thoughtful silence behind him. At least he thought that's what it was. He couldn't really tell over the roar of the engine.

They made good time to the highway but Daryl knew he'd have to find some gas to siphon soon or they'd be on foot. Daryl weaved through the cars, easily remembering the red car. So much had happened in that one spot that he was pretty sure it was imprinted on his mind.

When he culled the engine, the silence seemed overwhelming but there didn't seem to be any walkers about. He could see from the road the imprints the herds tracks had made in the dirt but they hadn't passed them. Daryl looked back over his shoulder and a chill came over his body. He had a bad feeling for Beth's home town. Maybe the creatures had kept moving through but maybe they had spread out and hunted through the town for living souls.

"Are we in danger?" Beth asked, noted his long silence and wary eyes. Her hand hovered near her knife and she sounded respectful. Her face was neutral and, while it wasn't warm, it was definitely an improvement on this morning.

"Don't think so," Daryl said quietly. "Stay behind me and watch your ankles."

Beth immediately looked down as if she half expected a walker to crawl out from under a car and snatch her up.

"Yeah, like that," Daryl said. Beth's cheeks became bright spots of colour and maybe he shouldn't have teased her but it was amusingly easy to make Beth blush.

She rolled her eyes but the tiniest hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. Daryl made the way towards the red car, walking slowly and cautiously.

It was suddenly right in front of them. Daryl's shoulder slumped in disappointment. He didn't know what he was expecting because it wasn't like Rick and Glenn were going to pop up from beside the vehicle and shout, "surprise."

His discontent was mirrored on Beth's face. She had had the same illogical expectation that he had. Daryl didn't know if he was possessed or moved by his own words earlier but he reached out and squeezed Beth's shoulders. It was just a small gesture of solidarity. Her eyes widened and she jumped out of instinct at his touch. Daryl pretended not to notice her reaction, releasing her shoulder and walking past Beth.

Daryl walked closer to the car. Now that he was no longer hopeful, the hunter took over. He instantly saw that all the food was missing.

"Someone's been here."

Beth gasped. "Do you know who?"

Chances were it was someone from their group but he couldn't say for certain. Daryl shook his head and began looking around the area. Beth was looking at the car considering.

"Y'wanna help?" Daryl said to force her into action.

Beth ignored him and walked closer to the car.

"Or you could just do as you please," Daryl grumbled but he moved closer despite himself. Something about Beth's intent face made him pause. She dropped so suddenly, he was sure a walker had got her. Daryl's heart leapt into his mouth but he saw she was just on her knees reaching for something.

Daryl grabbed her bicep and hauled her to her feet. "Don't so that again! You scared me half into the grave."

Beth responded to his snappy words with a wide grin. She waved a piece of paper under his nose.

Daryl snatched it from her fingers and it was scrawled hastily. Beth moved so she was reading over his shoulder and Daryl resisted the urge to swat her away from him.

"_To my princesses_," Daryl read. His made a face. "I'm gonna assume that's not me."

"My father used to call me and Maggie his princesses. This is a note from him," Beth sounded joyful. "He's alive."

At least when he wrote the note, Daryl thought but didn't say. "_In the area. There are men._"

That was the entire note and both of them stared at in puzzlement.

"That wasn't very helpful," Daryl eventually said.

"We know my father's alive," Beth chided.

"Sure but not who else."

"What did he mean by 'there are men'?" Beth asked.

Daryl knew exactly what Hershel had meant. Randall's group was still around. That was likely what had forced Hershel to scribble such a hasty note with so little information.

"How did you think to look there?"

Beth shrugged. "He used to hide the spare key above a wheel."

"Sounds secure," Daryl said sarcastically. He looked up and down the highway. "We have to get out of here. Find a place more isolated to hide tonight."

Beth nodded, for once not arguing. She opened the car door and rummaged in the glove compartment. She produced a pen with triumph. She held a hand out for the note and Daryl passed it to her. She spread it flat on the car and, in quick succession, wrote both of their names. Beth carefully looked over her shoulder and when she thought Daryl wasn't paying much attention, she added a tiny love heart, and then she returned the note to the wheel.

"Clever," Daryl noted.

Beth looked pleased with herself. They were walking back towards the bike when Daryl heard engines from behind them.

"It's them," Beth said eagerly, stepping forward. Daryl was naturally suspicious and so he grabbed the back of Beth's shirt and hauled her back against him.

He pulled them both behind a car and squatted down. It didn't sound like any car that he remembered seeing on the farm. Beth looked at him and he shook his head. Somehow she understood and her eyes widened. He could feel her heart beating against him like a caged bird. It was too late to run now. They would see or hear the motorbike. They'd have to hide and hope for the best. Beth covered her mouth. She looked terrified. Beth reached down and grabbed his hand in her fear. Daryl let her clutch his hand. All they could do was wait now.


	16. Chapter 16

Beth's palm felt clammy and sweaty. By comparison, Daryl's hand in hers was dry and rough. As much as she usually wanted to hit Daryl upside the head, right now she was glad she wasn't there by herself. Beth was just focusing on not panicking but Daryl's eyes were calm and calculating.

"They keep driving, they'll go right past us." His voice was a tiny whisper in her ear but he sounded steady and Beth was grateful. Grateful for once that Daryl seemed to be impervious to reacting like a normal human being.

She looked down at their joined hands and Beth felt strange. Probably she should release her grip on him but her fingers felt frozen. They'd have to be pried off one by one and so they stayed interlocked. To his credit, Daryl seemed more interested in the potential danger than the teenage girl clinging to him.

His face darkened when the engines were cut. Beth's heart seemed to stutter to a stop in her chest and, in the absence of the engines, the silence seemed oppressive.

Then they heard voices. Not clear words but enough to know they were heading in their direction. Daryl mouthed something rude that Beth didn't have to be a lip reader to interpret.

He abruptly pushed her down on to the gravel. It scratched at the bare skin of her arms. Daryl kept shoving her and Beth understood that he was pushing her beneath the car they were hiding next to. It was a large car, Beth didn't know the exact make but it looked a little like an SUV. But Beth wasn't sure that it would conceal both of them.

She was almost positive that it wouldn't once Daryl rolled in next to her. Beth had never felt too large until this moment. Shoulder to shoulder, the pair of them were covering too much ground. Daryl knew it too. At the same time he wriggled further under the car; he reached across and grabbed a handful of Beth's shirt. He unceremoniously yanked her towards him. Beth opened her mouth and just managed to fight the instinctive squeal of protest before Daryl's hard body was under hers.

"You think they would show up here again?" a rough voice asked. They were close enough that Beth could make out actual words. Daryl's fingers were on her hips, holding her in place. He needn't have bothered. If the terror of hearing those people hadn't kept her still, there was no room now for her even to move.

As it was, both of her legs were on either side of Daryl's body, her chest pressed tight to his torso and the frame of the car was still digging into her back.

"I don't know why you even think they were part of a larger group," another sceptical voice added.

There was more murmured conversation. They were keeping their voices low, obviously not wanting to attract unwanted attention and so far they seemed completely oblivious to the concealed pair under the car.

Beth's head was in the dip where Daryl's shoulder met his neck. It wasn't voluntary, it was just the only place she could actually put it. She was too close to see the expression on his face but all the lines in his body were tense. He was as anxious as she was.

There was a pause in the conversation and then, "Do you guys remember this bike being here?"

There was a low whistle. "That's a sweet ride."

"It wasn't here the last time," the original voice insisted.

"Don't be stupid, of course it was," someone else dismissed.

"We should take it!"

Daryl's fingers curled sharply into the soft skin of Beth's hip and she fought not to hiss with pain. She closed her eyes and wished those men would just leave. She didn't want to think about what they would do to them if they were discovered. Unbidden Beth remembered what Daryl had told her about Randall's confession.

There was laughter and someone asked, "What the hell would you do with that bike? You can't ride for shit."

"Leave it alone," an authoritative voice cut across the chortling. "We need to get back."

There were retreating footsteps and only when the engines started back up did Daryl relax his grip on her. Beth knew there would be red little imprints from his fingers and wondered if they would get through one day without Daryl marking her.

Only when the sounds of the cars had faded away did Beth reopen her eyes. She was startled to find Daryl's face very close to hers. She jerked back instinctually and her head collided sharply with bottom of the car. She groaned and clutched the back of her head, trying to wriggle sideways and out from under the car. She barely moved an inch. It appeared she was stuck.

...

Daryl had turned to Beth to suggest that they move. The girl had stayed immobile long after he would have but he figured it couldn't hurt to err on the side of caution. When the hum of engines could only barely be heard, Daryl decided that they were as safe as they were ever going to be.

He had awkwardly tried to face her, his movements severely restricted by the lack of space and the girl on top of him. He didn't know she had her eyes closed and when she opened them to discover him in such proximity, she had been startled.

Daryl had winced at the crack sound he heard when her head impacted with the metal undercarriage of the car. He wouldn't be surprised if she had a concussion after that. Instead of being subdued, the injury seemed to make her panic or something because she started frantically trying to get free. The problem was they were wedged in so tightly together there was really nowhere for her to go. She was trapped between the car and Daryl, and of the two, only Daryl's body had any give. So instead of liberating herself, she only succeeded on grinding her lower half firmly into Daryl's.

His eye flew wide at the unexpected scenario he now found himself in. It was completely out of context and wrong as hell but Beth's flailing was causing his body to react. Feeling his face grow hot, Daryl did the only thing he could thing of and that was to unceremoniously haul Beth to the side.

"Ouch," Beth complained as she landed back on the ground hard. Daryl couldn't answer for a second. She seemed to be completely oblivious to what her squirming had done to him. It wasn't technically his fault. It was an involuntary reaction; he'd certainly had no control over it. And yet, he still felt guilty.

He cleared his throat. "Can you get out so we can get movin'?" he asked gruffly.

Beth sighed, exasperated, but she did as he asked.

Daryl rolled out from under the car and instantly felt less caged in. What had happened was an accident because his senses were already on high alert from the men. Beth was examining her arm and she looked a little queasy. Daryl saw that the road had scraped a sizeable portion of the top layer of her skin off. There was blood dripping down her arm.

They'd need to clean that up or it ran the risk of infection.

"C'mon, I wanna get deep into the woods so I can come up with a plan." He gestured at the bike, relieved that the men hadn't tried to steal it. He wasn't sure he would have stayed under the car if that had happened. That bike was important to him, maybe the last connection he had to his old life. Well that and his crossbow. He would hate to part with it and he would fight tooth and nail to keep it.

"What if I bleed on you?" Beth said, looking appalled at the possibility. Daryl shot her an incredulous look. After everything they had been through, Beth seriously thought a little blood on his shirt was going to bother him. Unlikely.

"I think I can handle it," Daryl said witheringly. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to have another cold shower as soon as possible.

Beth rolled her eyes. "I was just being considerate," she grumbled, following him towards the bike. All her terror and disorientation had vanished once she had two feet on the ground and some fresh air.

"Well stop. I ain't got any use for a damned southern belle!"

Beth snorted aberrantly. "I wasn't any southern belle."

Daryl arched an eyebrow but Beth didn't elaborate. She merely pointed at the bike. "Aren't we in a rush?"

...

"I don't think it'll need stitches."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure but you can get a second opinion. If you can find one."

Rick clenched his jaw at Hershel's wry tone. He was irritable and he knew it wasn't technically Hershel's fault. Rick had not had enough sleep in... in what felt like forever really. When he had first staggered out of his coma and found the world had come apart at the seams, he thought he'd had enough sleep to last him several lifetimes. He didn't want to sleep and miss any more world changes. Now he'd give his last dollar for a few hours of solid sleep. Since he'd woken up, he'd been worrying about someone. He'd worried about Lori and Carl, he'd worried about Merle, he'd worried about Sophia and now he was back to worrying about his family again.

At least half of it was by his side. Carl was sitting patiently while Hershel examined the head wound Rick had suffered when they had encountered those men on the highway. It stung like a son of a bitch but he was lucky it wasn't infinitely worse. Those men were ruthless and they were not interested in extending a helping hand. These were people who wanted to take advantage of the state of things and take what they could, whether it was theirs or not, whether they needed it or not.

Rick had been on edge since the farm had descended into complete chaos. He probably couldn't have slept, even if he wanted to. Every time he attempted to close his eyes he just saw flashes of fire and destruction. He saw walkers everywhere and, worse, he saw Shane's face. Guilt festered in his stomach as he nursed his secrets. He had been the one to kill Shane, a decision that was necessary even if it contradicted every moral fibre of his being. He'd concealed that from Carl because he had looked up to Shane, hero worshipped that man in a way that should have been exclusively Rick's right. But Rick had accepted that. Shane had been there when he couldn't be and he deserved gratitude for that. What he didn't deserve was to take Rick's life and everything that entailed. So Rick had struck first. Rick didn't want to admit to this betrayal. But even more so, he didn't want to tell them the truth about how people became walkers.

Because in reality, their bite would kill you but what made a person turn? That disgusting virus had already crept its way into their systems. Regardless of how they died, they would turn all the same.

So Rick could barely look his son in the eye but he had to because Carl was beside himself with worry about Lori and Rick was too. All he wanted was to be mad at Lori. Even though she had thought he was dead, he couldn't forget that she had turned to the man who had been his best friend, had been the closest thing to a brother. But he couldn't be angry with her because he was too worried about her. Had she survived? What about the baby she carried, which may or may not be his?

When did life get so complicated?

"When the dead rose up with a hankering to wipe us out," Hershel said and it was only then that Rick realised he had asked the question out loud.

"It was rhetorical," Rick muttered, lying just a little bit. Hershel seemed to be a new man since he'd faced the truth about the walkers. He was calmer and wiser, a man Rick would listen too. Rick knew he was just as concerned for his two daughters as Rick was for his wife. It was more than that though. There were other people on the farm he cared about. Had Glenn survived? And what about Carol?

The night was a blur for Rick. He remembered being in the barn and it being on fire. There had been a moment where he thought that they were done for but then Jimmy and Beth had pulled up in the RV, offering them a chance to escape. Beth had fallen of the side of RV and disappeared into the night. Rick had told Hershel that but he'd deliberately forgotten to tell him about the pack of walkers that had followed her like hunting wolves. He didn't know if she was alive but he wasn't optimistic. He'd had to physically restrain Jimmy from following her. The young boy would have done anything to rescue his girlfriend but it would have been certain death to chase the young blonde. Rick and Carl had pulled him in the other direction, the whole time he'd been screaming Beth's name. They had been together for a little bit but they'd gotten separated again, cut off by aggressive walkers. Rick hadn't seen Jimmy die and he sincerely hoped the boy was alive.

"We need to find shelter!" a voice cut into his thoughts.

Andrea hadn't stopped pacing. She wanted to do something, which Rick understood but neither of them knew what to do. They'd had the brilliant idea to go to the red car on the highway and wait but those men had ruined that. Hershel had hastily scribbled a note but that was all they had managed to leave. Andrea and Carl had the forethought to grab some supplies before they started running.

Hershel knew a few farms not far away and they had been hiding in them. Eventually they'd have to go back and see if there was any evidence that someone had seen their note but not yet. Rick was optimistic someone had survived. It just seemed impossible that, of their entire group, only four of them were still breathing. Andrea and Hershel said they had fought with Daryl, T-dog and Glenn until they had all gotten separated. If anyone was going to make it through this living nightmare, Rick would put money on Daryl. He was probably deep in the wilderness by now, eating raw squirrel livers and killing walkers. The image was enough to put a smile on Rick's face. Rick wondered if Daryl would look for them. Their resident hunter was very unpredictable and Rick was only starting to understand that he had hidden depths. If he'd been asked after their first meeting whether Daryl would try and help them out, he would have said no. Now Rick wasn't so sure.

There were footsteps somewhere beyond sight. They were dragging and sluggish. Rick cast a look at the sky. It was darker than he remembered. Andrea was right; they needed to find somewhere to take cover over night. The walkers got particular vicious when the air cooled. Rick rubbed his temples as he got to his feet. He had a splitting headache, a stomach twisted into knots but he was alive and he still had hope.

**AN: SPOILERS! **

**The hug! I had such a pent up fangirl tangent built up over this but I'm actually quite tired so I'll keep it short and sweet. I think it meant something. For goodness sake, why else would they have Daryl, **_**DARYL**_**, break the news to the teenage girl about her dead boyfriend? Did he take grief counselling courses over the summer break? Of course not, it's the end of the world! And there wasn't even an implication like they got super close over the time jump because he didn't seem to know her that well judging from his surprise regarding her (lack of) reaction. Yours and ours, Dazza, yours and ours! I digress. So they're not besties and Daryl's not the emotional savant of the group so methinks me smells a plot device. Now on to Talking Dead (kudos to EthneDragon for pointing me in that direction): Not only is Hardwick right, the hug did linger but Gimple said every moment of the episode is going to be extended through the entire season. **_**Every **_**moment, Scott? Yes every moment. And he did emphasis that their reactions to each other were important. This may just be a friendship but judging from the comments NR has made recently about love interests and how he'd play it, I feel the moment is coming. **

**It's no secret I've never shipper Caryl though I've always respected its legitimacy. Its more canon then Deth but I don't see it happening now. I think the jokes and faux flirting show a level of comfort and familiarity that I love but I don't think its sexual. Not since NR is still stressing how he'd play a love interest really off balance and awkward. Youtube ****Norman Reedus [The Walking Dead] New Interview for EW - Daryl'****s new love interest. It doesn't fit for Caryl anymore. Maybe season three when he was still uncomfortable. Oh my goodness, I said short. I lied. **

**Regarding the actual chapter, there is a nice little moment there. I keep thinking, why do people want them to kiss already, it's way too soon. Then I look and go, "Holy crap, I'm on chapter sixteen already! Did you know you were this far in?" So apologies on the dragging out. I'm not being intentionally torturous, just aiming for realism. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Makes my day and makes me type faster. **


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Aw you guys. The response to last chapter was overwhelming! As it turns out, I'm a basic creature. Lots of reviews = lots of love = fast writing. This is a thank you chapter. **

Beth was sitting cross legged on the floor of what seemed to be a small, disused and badly cared for cabin. Daryl had gotten the bright idea to head as far into the woods as he could manage. She didn't think he had a clear plan for when he got there but he clearly wanted to get as far away from that road as possible and Beth didn't feel comfortable questioning him. He had been wired since they had narrowly escaped with their life. He was cagey enough that Beth was happy to put some distance between them. They certainly hadn't had any of that when they had been hiding under the car. But she could remember the steady beat of his heart against her own chest. It had been strangely comforting.

Finding the cabin was pure luck. It was dusty and dingy but far enough out that Daryl thought it was safe from walkers. It was a hunter's cabin but definitely not a luxury lodge.

Daryl had seemed pleased with the discovery. "It'll give us a roof over our heads tonight."

Beth was more wary. "I think this is the cabin from every horror movie I've ever seen."

"Case you hadn't noticed, the horror movie is back the direction we came." Daryl shook his head and then proceeded to explore the cabin, muttering the whole time. Beth heard the words 'pampered princess' and her name spoken in an unflattering tone.

It was one room with a tiny cot for a bed and one chair. As far as she could tell there wasn't even a bathroom. Beth raised her eyebrow but said nothing; her opinion on the matter wasn't welcome. Daryl, on the other hand, looked at home in the Spartan setting.

He used the one chair to lodge under the door handle and that was why Beth was sitting on the floor next to a small gas lantern.

Daryl was fussing backwards and forwards, finding food and securing the cabin. Beth thought this was excessive since it only had one door and one filthy window. If she didn't know better, she would say he was avoiding her but she couldn't think why. She'd done nothing to annoy him, at least, not more than usual. Maybe he was worried that if he got within arm's reach, she'd latch on to him again. What had happened was an anomaly. They were in a life or death situation and that had been the only reason Beth had sought out Daryl for comfort. It wouldn't happen again. Even if he had an unexpectedly comfortable shoulder.

Beth was actually in a good mood. Her father was alive and that was something. It didn't answer all her questions but she was willing to take the small victories that she could get.

Daryl eventually ran out of distractions and he ended up sitting across from her. He lowered himself with ease and Beth wondered how old he was again. Being so close to him earlier today, she had spotted a few grey strands in his hair and the beginnings of lines around his eyes. But the more she knew him, the harder it was to think of him as someone very much older than her. He moved with a quickness and precision that she had never seen another person manage. His personality was decidedly not mellowed and there was a certain underhanded immaturity to their fights. Still, she couldn't deny the jaded cynicism that she also saw in his eyes. There was a distrust born out of experience. There was something about Daryl she couldn't quite put her finger on and it wasn't just because he was unlike any person she had ever met in her entire, sheltered life.

As if he sensed her scrutiny, he met her eyes. Even in the dim lighting, they appeared sharp and piercing. Beth squirmed, uncomfortable to be caught spying.

"Your arms," Daryl said abruptly, incorrectly interpreting her uneasiness as pain. Her grazed and battered arms had been forgotten. Now that he had drawn attention back to them, Beth was aware they were stinging. The left arm throbbed a little but the right arm was a mess.

Daryl got up again and rifled under the sink. He returned with a derelict looking first aid kit.

Beth was apprehensive. She didn't think she wanted anything from that box near her body. But the insides were clean and pristine. Perhaps it was the only thing that had been maintained in the entire cabin.

Daryl dampened a cloth with antiseptic. He hesitated and then held his hand out, palm up. Beth stared at it for a beat but then extended her arm out to him. His fingers closed around her wrist, encircling all the way around. He pulled it closer to the light and Beth had to shuffle forward until her knees were touching his.

"This is going to hurt," Daryl said, not looking up from the injury. Beth gritted her teeth. His touch was so gentle that it was almost reassuring to hear him be so blunt.

"I can take it," Beth said, even though her voice shook.

He swiped at the skin and he hadn't been lying. Little jabs of pain lanced up her arm like fire. She bit her lip to resist making any noise. Daryl's eyes flicked up from her arms and took in her wince of pain.

He looked back down and continued swabbing the wound. He was thorough but gentle. Despite his mildness, the stinging sensation was making Beth tense.

Daryl cleared his throat. "There was this one time, Merle and I; we were out at this bar."

"Merle's your brother, right?" Beth asked through gritted teeth.

Daryl nodded, not looking up from his task. "Yeah an' he could be real stupid. I think I was just twenty-one at this point. Anyways, so he's had too much to drink and he's got his eye on this brunette. So he makes a move, even with me tryin' t'persuade him otherwise."

"They coulda been soul mates," Beth mumbled. Her breathing hitched as Daryl started to edge a piece of gravel out from under her skin.

Daryl snorted. "Unlikely. Turned out she had a boyfriend and he was a professional boxer."

"That was unfortunate for Merle."

"Fuck, uh, screw Merle. It was unfortunate for me. This beefy dude decides he has t'defend his lady's honour and all his buddies wanted a turn at beating the shit out of Merle. 'Course, I was young and stupid so I jumped in, 'cause Merle's my brother."

"Of course," Beth agreed sagely. She could already see where this story was headed and she couldn't fight a tiny grin at the idea of Daryl, not that much older than her, leaping in to rescue his brother despite insurmountable odds.

"Safe to say that was the worst beatin' of my adult life!"

Beth noted that he very carefully didn't say his entire life and that made her heart ache as she pictured an even younger Daryl at the mercy of some ruthless adult. "What happened?" she asked because she couldn't bear to think about him being abused.

"Few shattered fingers, bruised ego and one broken eye socket."

Beth gasped. "Really?" She leaned closer as if trying to see the evidence in his face now.

"Yup and Merle barely got a scratch." Daryl recounted the memory with real affection even though Merle had been the one to cause him all that pain. "Had ta'get surgery and all."

"I think you look pretty good, all things considered," Beth said, unable to see any noticeable difference.

Daryl glanced up sharply and Beth realised exactly what she had said. She clamped her lips together. She couldn't think of a single comprehensible sentence to say to lighten the sudden tension.

"All done," Daryl said abruptly.

Beth looked down in shock. She hadn't even felt her arm being tended to. It was bright red and raw. Daryl reached for a bandage and started to wrap it around her forearm, sealing it safely away.

Beth had been too interested in Daryl recounting a story from his youth to focus on the pain.

"You tell me that story to distract me?"

"I told you so you'd know what a badass I am," Daryl said dismissively as he tucked the bandage in. Beth knew he was lying. He'd never volunteered any information about himself before now. Daryl got up without any more comments and Beth's eyes followed him. She was confused. As mercurial as Daryl was, she'd never imagined him trying to divert her attention away from a grazed arm. She would have been less surprised if he'd told her to suck it up. But he hadn't. He'd been efficient and – _kind_?

...

Daryl didn't know why he had told that particular story about him and Merle from back in the day. It had seemed the most relevant and probably the most appropriate. Some of the mischief Merle and him had gotten into made his ears burn just thinking about it.

It still didn't explain why he'd been moved to redirect Beth's attention. Maybe it was because she was stubbornly refusing to express her pain but he'd just found words coming out of his mouth. It had worked too. He'd managed to clean that nasty scrape without her flinching at every touch. He didn't want to cause a fuss over what looked like a run of the mill graze but Daryl remembered one of the times he'd come of his motorbike. The biggest hurdle to his full recover was a sneaky infection that worked its way into his body. So he wanted to prevent any chance of that happening to Beth. She was struggling as she was, she didn't need to be laid out by a rampant fever.

The story had earned him an unexpected compliment. At first he thought Beth was being sarcastic but quickly realised that it was sincere, if unintentional. He was learning that Beth wasn't naturally cruel or vindictive. Daryl just had a gift for pushing her until she snapped. The compliment had unsettled him. She obviously only had innocent intentions but he found himself studying her face in turn. All soft lines and pouting lips. It struck him that when she wasn't being annoying, Beth was very pretty. He wanted to think it in a detached, platonic way, the same way she had said he looked good, but he couldn't quite manage it. All too vividly he remembered her body pressed firmly against his. She may be a teenager but she wasn't a child.

Daryl ran a distracted hand through his hair and tried to think of something else. Anything else.

"So your father left a note." Daryl spat the words out abruptly. Beth jumped at the lack of precursor to the conversation. If reminding himself that the object of his thoughts was young enough to be his daughter didn't quell those unwelcome feelings, maybe thinking about her actual father would pull him into line. It was the metaphorical equivalent of taking a cold shower.

Beth brightened immediately. He was envious that she wasn't the least bit conflicted where her family was concerned. If Merle showed up tomorrow, as much as Daryl would be glad, there would be other emotions thrown into the mix. He still felt a gnawing responsibility for what had happened to Merle. For example, he should never have let him go into Atlanta without Daryl to watch his back. But at the same time, if Merle had been with them the last few weeks, would he have bonded with Glenn, supported Rick or even looked for Sophia? Chances were Merle would have bailed at the first sign of trouble on the farm and taken Daryl with him. And then Beth would be dead. No one would have swooped in at the last minute to save her from running along that dusty road until eventually she faltered and the walkers got her.

The girl was talking and he wasn't hearing a single word she was saying. She annoyed the crap out of him, got deep under his skin, but he certainly didn't want her dead. He forced himself to focus on what she was actually saying.

"- Daddy knows this area, he'll be able to help whoever he's with stay safe," Beth was saying with absolute confidence.

Daryl nodded along. He didn't remind her about the large group of men they had only narrowly escaped themselves. For some reason tonight was just not a night for hard truths.

While she talked, he found the can of cold spaghetti. Daryl had also discovered a little gas heater that would give them a chance to heat the food up. His extensive experience with equipment like this took over and his hands moved almost independently to his body. Beth's voice was soothing. It wasn't so much that he was paying all that much attention to the actual words but her optimistic tone, while it defied belief, was comforting. It was strange to think that the melancholy girl he had first met was actually more like the positive person next to him.

"We can start searchin' tomorrow. Start small an' leave clues," Daryl eventually contributed to the conversation. He had realised his silent observation was dangerously close to creepy.

Beth bestowed on him a smile then and it occurred to him that she had never really smiled at him. Not with genuine joy. What a powerful emotion hope was. Maybe stronger than the instinct to survive. Daryl would be the first to admit he knew a lot more about the latter. If he kept up this behaviour, Beth might get the wrong idea about him. She might mistake him for a nice person.

Beth extended a hand for the spaghetti to check if it was ready and Daryl immediately reached out, seizing her fingers.

"It's hot," he scolded. He was gratified to hear his tone had returned to its standard gruffness.

Beth's creamy skin went a vibrant crimson. He knew he was a bastard for thinking so but he was so relieved to be back on familiar ground even if it had the pair of them at each other's throats.

Using a towel to protect his own fingers, Daryl picked up the can and used the fork he had swiped from Beth's friend's home. He shovelled a laden fork into his mouth, mostly to stifle the hideous apology that sat on the tip of his tongue. The canned pasta scorched the inside of his mouth and instantly made his eyes water.

"It's hot," Beth said dryly, as she watched his face change. Daryl glared at her, unhappy to have lost that round.

He roughly passed her the can and the fork, while he fumbled with the bottle of water. Beth blew daintily on her portion before eating it. He wanted to poke his tongue out at her, childish as that might seem.

They lapsed into silence and the can was emptied far too quickly. Hunting for rations was going to take priority over searching for missing members of the group soon. Daryl could see what game he could drum up but they would probably do better raiding houses. He just hoped that the group of men decided to move on soon. They would severely hinder their progress.

Beth yawned and unbidden, both sets of eyes went to the camp bed. There was no couch in this cabin. Daryl knew he should he demand the bed, right of age and all that crap, because it would reinforce the fact he wasn't a pleasant person. But he still couldn't bring himself to.

"Get some sleep," he said, gesturing at the bed. "I gotta clean some weapons."

"Are you sure?" Beth asked instantly. "I took the bed last night." Beth was still all manners and consideration.

"'S fine," Daryl said curtly. "'Sides, you probably need the beauty sleep more than I do." He turned his back before his face could reveal that he'd had to force that lie past his lips. They had enough to worry about without his budding, inexplicable physical attraction to Beth.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: I really love this chapter but I have this feeling everyone else might hate it so please let me know what you all think.**

Beth didn't think Daryl was being deliberately mean; more that he'd reverted into his typical surliness. But for some reason she still felt his last words like a physical punch to her stomach. She knew she shouldn't give it a second thought, that it had no real meaning coming from Daryl when ninety percent of what came out of his mouth was dripping with disdain and contempt. But she did and her brain couldn't help seizing on it and turning it over and over again, analysing for any extra symbolism. Beth had always grown up with the notion that men were simple creatures, maybe that was from living in the country where the males she knew spoke plain. Now for the first time she found herself over analysing what one man had said. Had he meant to say she was unattractive? Why did she even care?

She stood there, fiddling with her bandage to give herself something to focus on instead of staring at Daryl's back. She suspected the words had hit her harder because barely an hour ago, she had caught a glimpse of a Daryl she didn't even know existed. A Daryl that would tell a story about him getting beaten up just to distract her from some pain in her arm. She should have known it wouldn't last. That kindness was uncharacteristic for him and had probably only surfaced because of the circumstances. Beth's throat felt tight. After all his big words about expecting more, he had slipped into the same pattern everyone adopted when dealing with Beth. Pity and coddling. She found herself wishing she'd never heard that stupid story about that stupid fight.

Beth looked at the little cot bed with distaste. It was small and rickety; it was questionable whether it would even hold her weight. She kept these observations to herself. Daryl was obviously back in the mood where insults were quick to leave his mouth and Beth didn't want to hear another tirade about how she was a pampered princess.

Beth gritted her teeth and tugged back the covers. She half expected a snake or a spider to come tumbling out and was glad that there wasn't one. It wasn't that she had any phobias regarding creepy crawlies but she did have what she'd describe as a healthy and quite natural apprehension of anything being in bed with her. She peeked at Daryl, who had resettled himself with his back against the wall, an array of weapons stretched around him. Unexpectedly she thought about sharing the bed with Daryl and her anxiety level rocketed. It caused her pulse to speed up and her trademark blush to appear in full force. She still didn't understand why Daryl inspired that reaction in her. It wasn't fear exactly but it was something close, something Beth didn't recognize well enough to name.

Beth didn't want to sleep in her denim pants but she'd be damned if there was any chance she was taking them off. Not only did the idea of Daryl seeing her only in underwear petrify her, but she was struck numb at the idea of being attacked in the middle of the night and having to make a run for it without pants. She settled for kicking off her shoes and taking off the belt with the knife, though she kept that within arm's reach.

Beth tucked herself into the bed. There was a piece of wire digging into her back but it still looked more comfortable than the floor. The sheets were a little musty but they weren't dirty and that was good enough for Beth. She was quickly learning to lower her standards. If she had ever thought it was possible to romanticise the situation, that illusion was quickly shattered. There was no castle, no dragon and the closest thing she had to a white knight was a redneck with a tendency to cuss and scold when things got difficult. And the white knight would never imply that heroine of the story was anything less than beautiful. Beth let that bitterness fill her and she glared at oblivious Daryl. He was fiddling with his crossbow with the loving tenderness one might reserve for their own child. The bitterness faded abruptly as Beth realised that Daryl probably didn't have a lot of things in his life to love and even less things to love him back.

The sadness that crept over her was familiar and she rubbed an unconscious finger over her scarred wrist. It made her feel ashamed. She had so much to be thankful for, even after losing so much, and she'd taken it for granted. Beth didn't think her emotions could shift again so dramatically but they did and she was suddenly very angry at Daryl. Angry because she was starting to realise that his derision for her was entirely justified. The last thing she wanted to do was concede Daryl was right about her. She rolled on to her back. Staring at the ceiling was better.

Staring upwards but not really seeing, Beth made a vow that she would prove him wrong and show that she was a person worthy of respect. She again had the fleeting confusion as to why Daryl's opinion should matter to her so much but she was too tired to follow it up.

...

Someone was screaming. Daryl blinked bleary eyes in the dark and his mind rushed to catch up with the situation. What had he been dreaming about? Why was a woman screaming in his dream? His realisation that it wasn't something his sleep addled brain had conjured up was accompanied by a rush of adrenaline.

The cabin was dim but not too dark that his eyes didn't adjust quickly. He couldn't see a threat but that piercing shriek was coming from Beth. Daryl scrambled to his feet and raced to the girl, expecting to see a walker chewing on her ankle or something equally horrific. But Beth was alone in her bed. She was thrashing around, in obvious distress but her eyes were closed. Daryl realised she was screaming in her sleep.

Daryl didn't know what was happening. He had heard about night terrors but had scoffed and called them nightmares for pussies. Now it was the first thing he thought of. Was he not supposed to wake someone up out of a night terror or was that just a rule for sleepwalkers? One thing was for certain, she was too loud.

"Beth," he called quietly, hoping the sound of her name would snap the girl out of it. It did nothing. If anything she was becoming more violent. She was clawing at her own arms as if trying to get something Daryl couldn't see away from her. Rules be damned, Daryl thought, seizing her wrists in his hands. He pinned them to her side.

His eyes widened as he had to exert some pressure to keep them against the bed. She wasn't a fragile as he thought.

"Beth!" Daryl snapped. He was half on the bed, using his own body to restrain hers. He was just considering tipping the bottle of water over her head or even slapping her when Beth's eyes snapped open with a gasp.

She looked frantically around the room, struggling against him all the while.

"Beth, you're fine," Daryl said in a low voice, trying to keep his tone even though his heart was racing in his own chest. What the hell was that?

Beth sucked in a shuddering breath and went limp underneath him. She was tiny and frail once more. A single tear trailed from the corner of her eye.

"Jesus girl, what was that?" Daryl asked, still pressing her into the bed, half afraid she would fly off the handle again.

"I was on the farm and Patricia was attacking me." Beth's voice was tight. She didn't elaborate and Daryl got the sense she was keeping a lot of the details to herself.

"She can't hurt you," Daryl pointed out gruffly. He couldn't attend to the emotional trauma of seeing her friend killed but he could be practical.

"You don't know that," Beth shot back, meeting his eyes squarely. He could see all her fear and hurt contained in those blue depths.

Daryl opened his mouth to say something. He was going to say, "I won't let her." Something stupid like that. He didn't get the chance because Beth spoke first.

"Can you get off me!" The words sounded harsh for Beth, less of a request and more a command. Daryl froze, realising just how much of his body was now covering hers. He was encroaching on her personal space and it was putting her off.

Daryl pushed away from her quickly, fleeing to the other side of the room. He had to put as much space between them as possible. He'd just been trying to help her and now the situation had been turned on its head once more, through no fault of his own.

"Aren't you a little old for nightmares?" Daryl asked, crossing his arms. He was channelling his discomfort into anger and Beth was the perfect target. "Thought most fifteen year olds would have grown out if it by now?"

Beth's face was still flushed and she glared at him. "That's how old you think I am?"

Daryl shrugged. "Just based on the evidence available, I figured you were young."

He noticed Beth's hands were trembling and if she would just show an ounce of vulnerability maybe that would have defused the situation but for once she didn't seem interested in backing down.

"What evidence?" Beth spat out. She was equally mad now.

Daryl knew he should sit down and shut up. He knew from experience that he didn't know the line until he had crossed it and caused irrevocable damaged. But an image of Beth's body underneath his flashed in his mind and he went there anyway.

"Well that time with Jimmy," he began, his voice dripping with scorn. "You didn't look like you knew what the hell you were doing. Got me thinkin' you were pretty young. Was that your first kiss or something?"

He saw the impact of his words. He knew of all their interactions, him catching her with Jimmy was the one that inspired the most mortification. And now he'd gone and exploited it like the asshole he was.

There was long pause and Daryl thought maybe she'd been stunned into silence by his vicious and unwarranted personal attack.

"You were pretty awkward when you found me. Have you never been kissed? It wouldn't surprise me! I know I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man alive." Beth's voice matched his.

Daryl's shoulders stiffened. He knew he was to blame for that cutting insult; that he'd started it, but that barb struck deep. She couldn't have known how many years of belittlement he'd endured at the hands of Merle about his awkwardness with women. But she was staring at him with such knowing that it seemed like little excuse.

Daryl strode across the room. He flung open the door and left without a backward glance. He slammed the door behind him.

...

Beth dropped her head into her hands at Daryl's exit. She shouldn't have said what she did. She had obliterated any progress they had made with a few sentences. Already guilt was unfurling in her stomach. She would have had to be blind not to see the way her words had made Daryl flinch. Even in the darkness of the cabin she had seen it.

He was always able to hurt her with little to no effort and for once she wanted to strike back. He had no problem aiming below the belt so why should she?

The situation had escalated so quickly that Beth still wasn't thinking clearly.

When she had woken up she had been so scared and disorientated. Then she had discovered Daryl practically on top of her. She had tried to calm herself down but Daryl's proximity had made that impossible. All she could think about was Daryl's weight on her body and how he wasn't really heavy at all. The closeness wasn't reassuring. In fact it made her heart race along, made it difficult to breath.

So she had told him to get off. Maybe she could have phrased it better but she was frantic to reclaim her thoughts. Beth sighed into her palms. All this had happened because she couldn't handle Daryl touching her in that way. And it wasn't because she had hated it. Far from it in fact.

Now he was never going to speak to her again and it was all her fault. Beth slumped back against the bed. She was shivering now. The nightmare had covered her body in a sheen of sweat and now that it was cooling on her skin, she felt quite chilly. Beth waited for Daryl to burst back into the room and shout at her some more but there was only silence outside. She hoped he didn't do anything stupid. If he wandered off and got himself killed, Beth would never forgive herself.

She dismissed that concern as absurd. Daryl was more than capable of defending himself and his rage at her was probably going to make him twice as deadly. Beth closed her eyes and tried to banish all thoughts of the redneck, most especially his wounded eyes.

...

"Jimmy!" Maggie hissed. She was trying to keep her voice low. The teenager had gone on without her to scout. Now she could see shapes moving through the trees. Distant shadows heading in their direct. What she wanted to do was shout his name and demand his attention but she didn't want to attract the dead any closer. Sometime after meeting Glenn, she had stopped thinking of them of people and she started calling them walkers in her head.

Luckily Jimmy heard and doubled back. He looked older, like he had aged years overnight. The skin around his eyes was tight and Maggie knew he hadn't slept much recently. She hadn't either. Even if worry for her family and friends didn't weigh heavily on her, the constant moving wasn't helping. They had to stay mobile or they ran the risk of being swallowed up by the herd.

She and Jimmy had tried to avoid the mass of walking dead but somehow had ended up being shepherded by them instead. No matter which direction they went, or how fast they travelled, it seemed like the herd was only a few hours away, clinging to their scent.

Jimmy pointed at a tree and Maggie nodded her agreement. The pair of them climbed the tree easily. Maggie had always been a bit of a tom boy and knew her way around these woods, having grown up here. Jimmy was familiar with the area too and that was a big help.

They climbed high and not a moment too soon. The first groans of the walkers reached her ears and Maggie felt sick. Every time she saw or heard a walker, she experienced a deep seeded nausea that she couldn't shake.

Jimmy closed his eyes, looking, for all intents and purposes, relaxed but Maggie knew better. Until she had come home from college this summer to find him dating Beth, Maggie didn't really have much knowledge of Jimmy. He was a local boy from a good family and that was about the extent of it. But he'd come to grow on her. His doting affection for her little sister was endearing if a little corny sometimes. Maggie got the sense that Beth wasn't really that interested in Jimmy romantically, more dating him because that's what you did in the country when a handsome, kind young man expressed interest. Maggie never shared her concerns with either of the couple. Beth wasn't deliberately leading him on and Jimmy would just be heartbroken if he discovered Beth's lukewarm involvement. Maggie suspected that something had happened between them recently because Beth had become secretive and Jimmy had assumed a masculine swagger that Maggie recognised from college. Maggie just hoped Beth was alive and then she'd listen to all the teenage drama that Beth could ever want to share.

Neither her or Jimmy knew whether she had survived. They had tried to loop back around to the farm but it seemed that the walkers were always there to cut them off. So at the moment they only had each other and some speculation.

The walkers sniffed around the base of the tree but they didn't think to look up. They were stupid like that. Maggie was glad they had some failings because they were too dangerous otherwise.

Maggie kept very quiet even though the walkers couldn't reach them up there. She wanted them to pass on by and be done with it. Between them, they only had one gun with two bullets. It wasn't enough to engage the walkers and Maggie longed for a knife or two.

Maggie found herself praying that Glenn was alive and well. He had made her feel things she had never expected. At first he had been a way to pass the time while the world ended around them but then he'd quickly become so much more to her. She felt like she had known him forever. It was the strangest thing, falling in love. She had no choice in the matter. It was just a reality for her now.

**AN: annnnd Jimmy is alive. Too much fun this way and I felt bad for the kid. Like I said, I would love to hear people's take on this one.**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Last round of reviews was without a doubt the most personally flattering one's I have ever gotten. A quick confession, **_**every **_**review I click makes me anxious. I always think, this is going to be the nasty flame one that calls me out. It never is. It's just positivity, positivity, positivity. So thank you, from a place very deep down.**

Beth didn't remember falling sleep. But when she opened her eyes it was lighter in the cabin. Night time was over. There was no sign of Daryl on the floor. Beth hastily sat upright, worried when she didn't see the hunter. Beth exhaled in relief when she spotted his crossbow on the ground. She ran shaky hands through her hair. The white of the bandage caught her eye. After the initial shock of finding the cabin abandoned had passed, apprehension took its place. What would happen when they were face to face? Confrontation had always stressed Beth out but last night had taken it to a whole new level. She could still picture his face after she lashed out at him. If she could take the words back she would. If she thought it would do any good then she might have apologised.

The door open with a bang and Beth jumped, reaching for the knife on the ground. Daryl filled the space before Beth could even throw off the covers. He looked dirtier than when he had walked out last night. He had leaves tangled in his hair.

Beth wanted to get up and brush them out. She laced her fingers and resisted the urge. Daryl glanced over at her briefly, saw she was awake and threw something heavy into her lap. Beth flinched at the sudden weight against her legs. Looking down she realised he had pitched a map book at her. She appreciated that he threw it in her lap. With his aim, he could have quite easily gotten her in the face.

Beth picked it up gingerly. "Where did this come from?"

Daryl shrugged, "found it." He squatted down and started to collect the weapons.

Something struck Beth as strange. "Found it where?"

"In town." Daryl was still focused on his business.

Beth got out of the little camp bed, her feet cold on the wood. "You went all the way back into town?" Beth was shocked. She hadn't heard the bike which meant he'd gone the whole journey on foot. What he'd done was reckless and dangerous. A lecture rose inside her chest but she quelled it as she realised what was different. Daryl refused to look at her directly and he flinched every time she spoke. It was subtle but she was starting to learn his physical cues.

Daryl didn't answer her last question.

"What's the closest town with a big store?" he said instead. He was obstinately looking at the floor. Beth wanted him to look at her but didn't know how to make him. Instead she flipped open the book, searching for her local area.

She considered what she knew about the neighbouring towns and picked one out. She and her friends had gone shopping there once or twice after they had gotten their licences. She walked to Daryl and held the open page over his shoulder so he could see and pointed at a place a few hours away.

Daryl snatched the book from her, rough fingers brushing hers. To Beth, that brief contact felt like a bolt of electricity and she had to fight not to inhale audibly. Daryl seemed unaffected.

"C'mon then," was all he said before he stalked back out the door. Beth tugged on her boots quickly and followed him, feeling thoroughly out of her depth. She had never been made to feel immature until Daryl and for the life of her she couldn't think of anything to say that would begin to make things alright between them. Not that things had ever been smooth but frankly, at this stage, she'd happily go back to the way things were. With him glowering at her and jumping all over every little mistake. This apparent disinterest in her very existence hurt more than she expected.

As Beth left the cabin she was taken back to see a car parked out front. Daryl was already sitting behind the wheel, his face obscured by the open map. Beth got closer and opened the passenger door. She sat down with a thousand new questions but she didn't ask them. She also kept her misgivings about going so far away from where her family was to herself. Daryl's bike was still behind the cabin and she couldn't see him relinquishing it any time soon. She tilted her head back against the headrest and shut her eyes. If the trip would take a few hours then she could sleep them away.

...

Daryl was glad that Beth was asleep. Daryl had been accused of many things in his life but never of being a coward. And it hadn't been true until now. He'd been impulsive and reckless to the point of stupid but never scared. Not since he was old enough to get away from his father.

But god help him he was nervous. His anger had taken him further than he could have thought before he came to his senses. He wasn't that far from the town. He was wandering in the dark with nothing but a knife. Even his crossbow was back on the floor of the cabin. Back with _her_. So he'd continued on, making the extensive walk worth his while.

He was so mad at Beth for what she had said and walking eased the pressure in his chest that seemed to ebb and rise. Stealing the car had been a piece of cake. Keys were hanging next to it in the garage. Beth was right about people in the country. They were either trustful or dense, possibly both.

When he'd returned to the cabin, Daryl had thrown open the car door and gotten out with every intention of making Beth's life a living hell but he'd only gotten as far as the front door before he'd frozen. Insults normally rolled of him like water off a duck's back but Beth had managed to get under his skin. Maybe because she knew instinctually the best place to launch an attack. People like that couldn't be trusted, they'd just hurt him worse than most normal people. If he walked back in the door, what was to stop Beth from seeing straight through him? Seeing all the pent up sorrow and anguish he'd tucked away behind a nice, tidy wall of denial?

Daryl kicked at the dirt, infuriated with his own cowardice. What was it about this girl? He straightened his back and steeled himself. If he was so worried about what she would see then he would just show her nothing.

It had worked up until this point. Beth had fluttered around him like a bewildered bird, not knowing which way to step. He was vindictively glad that she was as unsettled as he was. Daryl was curt with her but that was the extent of it. It was almost jarring to hear her talk to him in that familiar sweet and uncertain tone. There had been none of that to her last night when she had railed against him.

It made sense really. This is what happened when you tried to help people. They threw it back in your face. He tried to find Merle, Merle stole his car. He tried to help Carol, she just scolded him about the things he did for the group. He woke Beth up out of her nightmare and got an earful for his trouble.

No, Daryl Dixon was quite done helping people. He'd keep Beth alive but she could live in that nightmare land for all he cared.

The town seemed quiet; there were only a few walkers on the way in. Far from being reassured, Daryl was actually suspicious of the situation. It could only mean one of two things: men or walkers in packs.

The store was large, one of those chains that stocked everything a fat person could want; an abundance of bulk sized products and large sweat pants. Daryl wanted to stock up on food and blankets. Winter was coming and game would become increasingly difficult to hunt. As they drew closer, Daryl almost reached a hand across to shake Beth awake but then he remembered. No kindness. So he braked harder than necessary and the jolt forced her head up.

Without a word, he got out of the car and started pulling the weapons out of the trunk. Beth followed quickly, equally soundless.

They made their way across the car park quickly. Daryl was alert, scanning the surroundings for any threats, living or otherwise. Even Beth had her knife out. Daryl grudgingly admitted she was learning. Whether she would be any good with a blade was another matter entirely.

Daryl ended up having to pry the doors open and that was no mean feat. The air conditioner had switched off from lack of power. The smell of rotten fruit was heavy on the air. It was a bizarre combination of sweetness and decay. Beth bit her lip and took shallow breaths. Daryl had smelt worse things, hell,_ he'd_ smelt worse.

Daryl took charge of the situation and Beth followed closely behind him. Whatever had happened between them wasn't enough to eradicate her wariness. The girl was no fool; she knew he wouldn't let her get killed.

Daryl found the blankets first and his first impulse was to take as many as possible. He settled for an armful, that was enough for him and Beth. He needed food more.

Beth stepped closer, sheathing her knife, and gently lifted the bundle out of his arms. Daryl couldn't help but glare at her, telling her with a look to mind the space between them. She swallowed before lifting her chin defiantly. "You need your hands free," she said by way of explanation.

Daryl grunted his agreement. He was abashed that Beth of all people had just given him safety advice but much as he'd like to, he couldn't dispute her logic.

The further they got into the store the worse the smell was. Even Daryl was affected now. The hint of sweetness was gone and was replaced by a bloody, meaty quality. Daryl suspected it was the butchery. There was no telling how much food had been left to putrefy.

Daryl rounded the corner and his eyes widened. There were walkers everywhere. They hadn't been wandering through the town because they had been dining at an all you could eat buffet. It wasn't just beef and pork they had been gorging on, it was the butchers as well. There were the remains of two men stretched out on the glass cabinet. There wasn't enough left of either man to reanimate. Daryl took a step back; they hadn't seen him yet and if they could just get out then no harm, no foul. His retreat sent him straight into an oblivious Beth. Her much smaller foot got caught under his booted foot and she released a tiny yelp.

Daryl had watched some nature programs and there was a moment when the antelope realised it was outnumbered and surrounded by lions. Daryl now had a very strong empathy for that animal because that's how he felt. The walkers spun to them and it took them a few moments to connect the dots. The second they realised that Daryl and Beth presented an opportunity for fresh flesh, they started advancing, snarling all the while.

Beth had peaked around his shoulder, trying to see what had stopped him in his tracks. Daryl pushed her behind him, keeping his body between her and the hoard.

"Run," Daryl snapped. There were over twenty walkers. That was pretty bad odds even with two of them. If Beth had frozen, Daryl didn't know what he would have done but luckily she started running.

Daryl followed her, glancing over his shoulder to check their progress. He was looking over his shoulder when he slammed into something short and blond. Beth had stopped in her tracks and Daryl just managed to stop himself from over balancing and sending them both sprawling to the floor. A hasty arm around her waist kept Beth upright.

Beth pointed wordlessly. There were more walkers coming at them from the other side. Daryl looked from his left to his right and swore loudly.

"Get your knife out, princess. We're fighting our way out," Daryl said.

Beth was petrified. "I don't think I can!"

"'Course you can," Daryl said quickly. "Just keep behind me and watch my back!"

He started backing up and he could feel a hand curled into the base of his shirt. He didn't chance a look to see if Beth had unsheathed her blade. He just couldn't risk it.

The first walker came too close and Daryl fired an arrow into his skull.

"They're getting closer," Beth told him, voice shaking.

"I'm kinda busy with this lot," Daryl grunted. He retired his crossbow and pulled out his knife. He kicked one walker in the stomach and slashed at another one.

There was a clatter and Daryl jumped at the noise but then he realised Beth had let go off him and was now grabbing cans of the shelf and rolling them back the way they had just come. The cans got underfoot and the clumsy walkers couldn't keep themselves upright. It was slowing them down enough to give Daryl the edge.

He had to use both arms to keep a particularly vicious walker at bay. He saw movement from the corner of his eye. Another walker was bearing down on him. Time seemed to slow and extend before him as he frantically weighed his options. A figure ducked in between him and the advancing walker.

With a croaky battle cry, Beth lunged. And stabbed the walker in the throat. Of course it didn't kill the walker. Her knife still lodged in its neck, the walker was pushing Beth back until she was pressed up against Daryl's side and he had to brace himself.

"It's gotta be the head," he ground out. "Kick it away!"

Beth kicked at the thing. It wasn't a strong kick but it pushed the walker off the blade. The walker came reeling back and Beth shrieked, lifting the knife up in defence. The walker had been swooping to take a bite and impaled itself.

Beth pushed the now dead creature off and turned. She awkwardly stabbed the walker wrestling with Daryl. Her elbow was locked and she hesitated before she dealt the death blow, but she killed it.

Daryl angrily threw the walker away from him, indignant that they were still so strong even if they were walking decomposition. They had cleared enough of a path that they could make a run for it properly. For once he had had to push to keep up with Beth. Both of them were flushed with adrenaline.

Beth raced out the doors and Daryl followed. He could hear the walkers trailing them.

"Can you drive?" Daryl shouted to Beth.

"Yes," she shouted back.

Daryl fished one handed in his pocket for the car keys. "Catch!"

Beth turned and without missing a beat, caught the keys in her hand. Daryl covered them with his crossbow but soon the stumbling creatures would be close enough to use the knife again. Besides, every arrow he fired was an arrow lost.

He heard the car come to life and sprinted for the passenger side. He managed to slam the door shut behind him when a walker collided with the car. It pressed its face up against the glass snarling. Daryl wound the window down a little and used the gap to stab the walker through the eye. It fell away leaving a smear of blood behind.

"Drive!" Daryl instructed Beth curtly and she took off, shoving the pedal all the way to the floor.

As the walkers fell behind he felt he could breathe again. Beth's eyes were fixed on the road but she was inhaling, deep and irregular. It was quickly becoming gasping, as if she couldn't draw enough oxygen into her lungs. Daryl realised she was hyperventilating and she was likely to black out if she kept this up.

"Beth," Daryl said warily. When she didn't react, he put a tentative hand on her shoulder. She jumped and the car swerved off the road.

Daryl had a chance to say, "Fuck!" before a lamp post loomed in front of them.

**AN: Things to say. First up, as many of you know, I am Australian so I have to make grand generalisations about the set up of shops in America. Seriously, I just base them on what we have here and hope you won't notice. So it's never going to be entirely accurate. **

**Also I noticed a lot of new names in the faves, follows and reviews. I'm on twitter and happy to fangirl any time (except that one week where I'm behind on TWD). So you can follow me at EJwadePR and let me know you're there because twitter thinks it doesn't need to inform me. Seriously, it's ridic and I could rant on and on. But I won't.**

**Finally, Daryl's reaction. I'm hoping people won't think it's anti-climactic after the big blow out of last chapter. I did have an original draft where he just sniped at her the entire way through but then I thought, he was really genuinely hurt by that comment and I could see him just shutting down, y'know, until they're attacked and then he pulls himself together. I think this is realistic for Daryl and there are plenty dramatic moments heading your way. I've gone on too long again. Just reiterating what I said at the top. Lot's and lot's of love to you all. **


	20. Chapter 20

Daryl seized the steering wheel with his free hand and wrested it in the other direction. At the same time Beth came to her senses and slammed on the breaks. They narrowly missed the pole. Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest anew. Beth started to cry.

He didn't know what to do. His hand still covered one of hers on the steering wheel but her other hand fluttered to her chest as if she was trying to keep her heart inside her body. The sobs didn't do much for the panicked gasps that rattled her body.

Daryl slid one hand down her back and leaned closer. "You're alright, girl. You're alright."

Daryl wasn't sure what the hell to do. He'd never seen anyone have a panic attack and been expected to do anything about it. Beth lifted her head and fastened her gaze on him. At least she was focusing on him. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he started talking again.

"Just take one deep breath for me," he instructed her evenly. Beth nodded shakily and slowly inhaled, her chest heaved as her body fought her mind.

"You're doin' great. Once more," he encouraged.

Beth breathed in again. This time he saw the oxygen actually fill her body. He kept the soothing hand on her lower back. He could feel her bones underneath her skin. She had always been skinny but she wasn't eating enough, that much was apparent. The hand underneath his unclenched and Daryl freed it.

She was breathing evenly now, still watching him. Daryl still wasn't certain that she was fully recovered yet.

"That was a nice catch earlier," he commented casually.

"Used to play softball," Beth explained.

"Figures," Daryl responded. He became aware of how close he'd gotten and half expected Beth to command him back to his side of the car. She didn't say anything but Daryl still moved back of his own accord.

"We need to find somewhere t'stay for the night," Daryl said and his voice sounded scratchy even to him.

Beth shot him one last, searching glance before she directed the car back onto the road.

...

"It seem unusually hot to you? I mean, I know Georgia's always hot but it feels particularly bad today."

Glenn looked across. "You complaining or...?"

"Just makin' conversation, man." T-dog stretched out on the concrete basement. All things considered, he seemed comfortable. They were the only two awake. Carol and Lori were sleeping in the corner, curled up on the single mattress.

Glenn knew what T-dog meant. Even though winter was just around the corner, today had been bad. They had to return from their scavenging early because of the heat. Lori had gotten light headed and weak, needing to lie down. Glenn hadn't even wanted her to come in the first place but it took a braver man than he was to insist Lori do anything. Especially when they were out looking for Carl and Rick. She had started to throw up as well. Glenn didn't know if that was early in the pregnancy because honestly he didn't know jack about the whole process.

They had found a house in the suburbs that had a basement. They were using the basement to sleep in at night, barricading the door with an assortment of furniture. They had dragged down a mattress as well. They took watch shifts and whoever wasn't on duty, crowded together on the mattress. The first time Lori had rolled over and used Glenn as a pillow, he'd been a little freaked out but now he just took it in his stride.

He was doing whatever he could to make Lori comfortable. It's what Rick would have wanted and Glenn owed that man a lot. They had both saved each other's lives a number of times but Rick gave Glenn a purpose and direction that he'd been lacking. Not knowing if he was dead or not was hard. They hadn't found much evidence to suggest people had made it off the farm. There was even less to indicate that Shane was alive. Deep down, Glenn would be relieved if Shane was dead.

He was glad T-dog was with him. He kept his head in a crisis and wasn't afraid to leap into a fray and protect the people he was with. Glenn needed someone like that by his side. Lori wanted to help but her participation worried Glenn, and Carol was still jumping at her own shadow.

He had kept his eyes peeled for Maggie too. It figured that the first girl he loved properly would be during the apocalypse. Glenn desperately wanted her to be alive. Lori and Carol had seen her alive before they'd all piled into the car and taken off. If anyone could survive, Maggie could. She was tough and knew the area well, which is more than Glenn could say.

...

"Jesus Christ! Not like that! I said slash."

Beth resisted the urge to scream. She was bone weary and wired all at the same time.

"That's what I was doing," she said indignantly.

"That wasn't a slash, that was- I don't even know what to call that."

Daryl had spotted a motel on the outskirts of the town and declared that's where they would spend the night. Tomorrow they could venture back in and find a smaller store with food. Beth had readily agreed. She wanted four walls around her desperately. But Daryl had gotten it into his head that she needed to start learning to use her knife properly. Immediately.

Beth was a little happy for the distraction. She was glad they weren't just sitting there in awkward silence. She wanted to thank Daryl for what he'd done in the car but couldn't find the proper words. He'd been mad at her but he'd still helped her. She didn't understand why he couldn't be like that all the time. She could still feel the heat of his hand on her back and his presence as he leaned in. His proximity hadn't crowded her this time, it had been soothing. Beth half imagined she could still smell his warm skin.

Beth shook her head and ignored the warmth that spread in her belly. Instead she focused on his current irritability. He seemed to have unrealistic expectations about how quickly she would take to knife fighting, even though today was the first time she'd had to kill a walker with her hands.

"Like this." Daryl demonstrated a strike that was both fast and illogically graceful. "Not like this." He windmilled his arm in a girly manner.

Beth placed one hand on her hip. "C'mon, I don't look like that."

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe you do, maybe you don't. Don't really matter."

Beth wrinkled her forehead. Did she look so ridiculous when she fought? It was pretty likely.

Beth sighed and tried to accommodate his ridiculous pointers. If only to express her gratitude for putting aside their dispute in the car. Her hands still felt sticky with walker blood and her stomach turned whenever she thought about driving her knife into the rotten skull.

She tried to replicate the moves Daryl had demonstrated and disregarded his pained expression.

Daryl abruptly reached out and seized her hand. Beth forced herself not to react to his touch. It was becoming easier to school her face with each time but it still felt like electricity dancing along her skin.

"You're holdin' too high up," Daryl mumbled, eyes narrowed as he adjusted her grip.

"There you go," Daryl said as he released her. He looked pleased with himself. "You'll have more control this way."

Beth swallowed and hoped her skin wasn't flushing. If it was, she could just pretend it was from physical exertion.

Beth tried once more to do it correctly and was gratified when Daryl didn't immediately roll his eyes at her efforts.

"That's closer. Still terrible but it's a start, princess."

Beth could have slumped with relief. Daryl thinking she was useless really agitated her for the same inexplicable reason all his opinions mattered to her too damn much.

"Can we just stop?" Beth asked, sounding pathetic but she was done in for the day.

Daryl thought about it and then nodded. They'd had plenty of room to practice since all the furniture was pressed up against the door.

"Time for dinner, I guess." Daryl had raided the vending machine earlier and now he upended his bag and a veritable feast of junk food fell out.

It definitely looked better than cold beans but Beth's stomach felt shrunken and tight even though she knew she should be ravenous. She plucked a packet of chips out of the pile and absently picked at the contents.

Daryl noticed her sparse eating. "You're gonna finish all that and then some."

Beth met his eyes in surprise. "Oh am I?"

"Yeah," Daryl said decidedly. "You're too skinny. If you're gonna be any good at fighting, you need to put some meat on them bones."

Daryl's determined expression caused a tiny grin to edge its way on to Beth's face. It was a veiled hint of concern. Even if what he said was practical, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of blindly following his orders.

"What are you gonna do if I don't? Spank me?"

"You better believe it," Daryl said, fixing her with a bland look. There was a pause and Beth wondered why this conversation thrilled her to her bones. Surely it was just because she got a kick out of defying Daryl.

...

Beth was sleeping on the bed, while Daryl lounged near the door. Someone needed to be on guard and he needed less sleep than her. He could hear her twisting and turning in her sleep but he was avoiding looking at her. Their conversation earlier sat in his mind. She had mentioned spanking with such innocence that he felt filthy for the way his heart skipped a beat. If it had been any other woman he'd known in his life, he would never have believed she was unaware of what she was saying. But most of the females he knew were nothing like Beth. There was nothing coy about her suggestions. Just a childlike elation that she had managed to subvert Daryl. Daryl, on the other hand, had bitten the inside of his cheek just to keep his face from giving him away.

It had been easier when she'd been in his bad books but his anger had all but evaporated in the car. If she was cruel to him it was because he had set a precedent. He didn't think he could just become good natured with that revelation but perhaps he could ease up on the insults. Though judging from her earlier performance, if he continued to train her that was going to be tough.

His fingers itched for a cigarette. He didn't have his packet with him and knowing his luck, this cheap hotel would still have a working smoke alarm.

Beth groaned and that attracted Daryl's attention. Her whole body was tense, on the edge of something and somehow he knew she was going to scream again. In two quick strides, he had crossed the distance. Bending down he put his hand over her mouth. In the woods, she could scream but here in the town, he wouldn't risk it.

Beth's eyes snapped open and Daryl instantly removed his hand and returned to the corner of the room.

"Another nightmare?" Daryl asked, examining his nails.

"Yeah," Beth said quietly. There was a pause and then she added, "They get me every time."

She sat up in the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Patricia?" Daryl asked, even though he hadn't wanted to pry.

"Patricia last night but tonight it was my mother." Beth's voice was small and she sounded so young.

"They can't get you, they're dead." Daryl didn't have any more comforting words so he lapsed into silence.

"Thank you," Beth said.

"I just woke you is all. Weren't nothin'," Daryl answered, feeling uncomfortable.

"I meant for the car," Beth corrected quickly. "I'mgladyouwerethere."

It came out as one word, like she might lose her nerve if she didn't blurt it out, but Daryl heard. He didn't know what to say to that. Not many people had been glad he was anywhere.

"You're welcome," Daryl said, embarrassed.

Beth swung her legs out from under the covers and she was walking towards him. Daryl pressed his back against the wall, trying to present a nonchalant facade but inside, his mind was reeling. What did she want? Why was she coming toward him? Jesus, did she want to _hug_?

Beth stopped a few feet away and Daryl couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed.

"You should get some sleep. I'll keep guard. Not like I wanna close my eyes after that." Beth shuddered.

Daryl hesitated, glancing at the door. Beth rolled her eyes. "Don't worry; I'll wake you up if anything tries to eat us."

Daryl relented. He felt strange taking off his weapons. He felt vulnerable without them, naked even. He was giving a lot of trust to Beth but strangely when he lay down he fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

**AN: just a lighter chapter, with a bit more information on the going ons of the others. I wasn't going to update tonight but I have and now I am exhausted. Hope you enjoyed a bit of Daryl's softer side. **


	21. Chapter 21

When Daryl cracked his eyes open, Beth was still standing to attention, taking her job as guard very seriously. She was staring at the door intensely, as if the second she turned away a walker was going to come ambling in. Her back was to him and so he could watch her without her knowing.

Daryl knew he should cough or move, something to let Beth know he was now awake, but he did neither. Some of her blond hair had slipped out of its tie and was curling forward around her face. Even with her stern expression, she still looked lovely. Daryl couldn't decide if there was something very real about Beth or if she was ethereal. At that moment, he did figure he'd spent too much time staring at the girl.

Daryl stretched and became aware of how much he had missed sleeping in a bed. He didn't mind the occasional night on the ground but that's all he'd had since the C.D.C.

Beth turned to see he was awake and then quickly looked away. The porcelain skin around her neck began to turn red. Daryl furrowed his forehead, confused by her reaction. He glanced down and realised his stretching had inched his shirt up so that the hollow near his hip was showing. He tugged the shirt down. Beth was probably just affording him some privacy, Daryl thought. He hadn't been wrong about her lack of experience with boys so it was probably uncomfortable to catch glimpses of a grown man's body. Daryl was more than happy to stay as clothed as possible around Beth.

He scratched his head and pretended not to notice Beth's embarrassment. "We should get some food t'take back." His voice was thick from sleep.

Beth nodded. While Daryl started to reattach his weapons, Beth redid her hair, sweeping it back so that there were no wayward strands around her face. She looked older now than when he had first met her on the farm. She had seen a lot of things in that time, Daryl supposed.

Daryl peaked out the window and saw no walkers hanging about on the second floor of the motel. They moved the furniture away and stepped outside. It was a cold morning and Daryl hoped the sun would burn the chill away as the day went on. Otherwise, it was a sign that winter was setting in.

There were a few walkers milling around the car when they walked down the stairs. Daryl killed them quickly and silently. They barely had the chance to snap their jaws threateningly at him before he cut their lives short.

Beth got into the car while Daryl finished the last one, wiping his knife clean on his pants. They would have to find an opportunity to wash themselves if they could. Not that Daryl was particularly vain but he was concerned about the grazes on Beth's arm getting dirty.

As much as he liked the cabin in the woods, maybe it wasn't very practical. While he drove he started to think of things he would need in a place they could stay long term. It would have to be secluded, that was for sure. He didn't want people accidentally stumbling on to it. A bathroom and an independent water source would be desirable. That was more for Beth than himself. Even a fireplace wouldn't go astray as they got further into winter but blankets and warm clothes would also do the trick. A bigger bed, he thought and then immediately corrected it to two beds.

Beth interrupted his list making. She pointed at a store up ahead. It looked like a family owned grocery store. Daryl only hoped it was walker free and hadn't been picked clean. It was larger than he first thought as he parked out the front. He made sure he removed the keys and locked the car behind him.

"Who would steal it?" Beth asked quietly.

Daryl shot her a telling look and she glanced down sheepishly. Some days he thought she understood this new world they lived in but other times she still seemed so naive.

Daryl tested the door and was apprehensive when it just opened. He would prefer not to waste time, crouched down and picking locks but easy access meant there was less likely to be any food.

Daryl took the lead and Beth followed behind with her knife out. It was a bit dim inside. The lights were off and the sunshine had yet to reach an angle which would illuminate the shop. Daryl hesitated to use his flashlight. He didn't want to advertise their whereabouts. If the price was a few mystery dinners then so be it. He couldn't hear anything and that was reassuring.

They found an aisle of canned fruit and Beth was ecstatic. He could tell by the large smile that spread across her face. At the very least it would taste better than beans, even if they probably had less nutritional value.

While Daryl kept his crossbow pointed up, Beth filled the bag with cans. She moved quickly and silently. Her biceps strained when she picked the bag back up but she didn't complain. Daryl wanted to find some more blankets or some extra clothes. Maybe they could look at the medicine section as well. Couldn't hurt to have more bandages or painkillers.

Daryl gestured the way he wanted to go and then held up five fingers, wordlessly telling Beth he wanted to go first and check the coast was clear. She gave him a thumbs up.

Daryl eased his way down the rest of the aisle, taking care where he stepped. He rounded the corner quickly pointing his crossbow down the next aisle. He didn't fire it because the point of a sword rested at the base of his throat.

Daryl's eyes travelled the length of the blade, noting it was actually a samurai sword. His gaze met the harsh stare of a tall, lean, black woman. Her face was blank but her eyes were violent. If he moved even an inch he would be losing his head, of that he was certain. Daryl had his crossbow pointed at her heart and he didn't lower it.

"Don't mean any harm," Daryl said, speaking slowly and calmly. He was probably contradicting himself by pointing his own weapon at the woman but something about her stare put him on edge.

"Heard that before," the woman replied. She was just as terse as he was. Movement behind her caught his gaze and it took all his effort not to run when he saw two walkers standing behind her. They stood there patiently, not making any moves to attack either of them. Daryl realised they had no arms and no jaws. His gaze flicked back to the woman.

"Daryl?" a voice asked and he winced as Beth finally appeared.

The woman looked past his shoulder and took in the new arrival. Her sword didn't waver. Daryl shifted slightly so that he was blocking most of Beth and drawing the attention back to himself.

The woman arched an eyebrow at his behaviour but didn't comment. Beth didn't say anything from behind him either, taking her lead from him.

"Go wait outside," he said curtly.

"But-" Beth began to protest.

"No buts! Do it," he snapped, not taking his eyes off the stranger before him. "Wait in the car and if I ain't out in twenty minutes go back't the cabin."

There was another pause and Daryl thought he was going to have to physically kick her out. But then he heard footsteps and the lingering smell of vanilla was gone. Once he was certain that Beth had gotten to a safe distance he lowered his crossbow.

"We just needed food," Daryl said, still meeting her stare. Was it his imagination or did she blink less than normal people?

"The girl yours?" it was the first time the woman had spoken and her tone was unexpectedly smooth.

"She's my responsibility."

The woman regarded him suspiciously. "How she repaying your kindness?"

Daryl flinched as he understood what she was implying. "Ain't nothin' like _that_! I knew her pa. We're trying to find the rest of our folk. We were separated a while back."

She considered what he was saying and then lowered her sword. She didn't put it away completely but it was a start. "Met this Asian kid with a similar story few towns back."

Daryl's ears prickled. "He wear a baseball cap?"

"Yeah, he your responsibility too?"

Daryl snorted. "No likely. He don't look like much but he's more 'an capable of looking after himself."

She didn't crack a smile, just stood there taking his measure. Daryl felt distinctly uncomfortable as she scrutinised him.

She gestured with her sword. "Get your food."

Daryl didn't need another invitation. He snatched up an abandoned bag from the floor and started grabbing whatever he could find that looked useful. He saw a coat, some toothbrushes and toothpaste. He snatched up some aspirin. Finally he took two bottles of water. The whole time, the woman watched him.

Not wanting to push his luck, he dangled the bag in front of her. "Think this'll do me. I'll just leave now."

The woman escorted him towards the door, her pet walkers shambling along behind her. It was a damn unsettling sight and that's for sure.

When they were close to the door he heard voices and Daryl started to hurry. He could see out the window that Beth was surrounded by men. He dropped the bag and pulled his crossbow back up to a defensive position.

"There are too many of them. You should let her go," the woman said casually, as if she didn't really care about the outcome one way or another.

"Can't do that," Daryl grunted. He dropped the car keys into the bag and the woman's sharp eyes tracked their fall. He trusted the stranger not to take the keys more than he trusted these men not to pilfer them off his dead body.

He didn't need to hear words to know that these men meant trouble. Beth was clearly agitated and the men were leaving forward, leering at her. One of them started to reach for her and she recoiled.

Daryl burst out the front door, levelling his crossbow at what looked like the ring leader. "Oye, keep your hands to yourself," he snarled.

"Mind your own business," one of them said.

Daryl fired an arrow into that man's thigh and started to reload without missing a beat. The man was shrieking and clutching his leg on the ground. The noise would attract walkers; he needed to wrap this up. There were still too many men between him and Beth. Seven not including the man flailing around on the ground.

"Shut up," Daryl snapped at the man. "It ain't gonna kill you. But you don't let the girl walk across to me, the next one will."

The one he had picked as the boss was regarding him with a cold expression. He reached out and snagged Beth's wrist, yanking her in front of him. He held a knife to her throat, stopping the threatening step Daryl began to take.

"How about you put your crossbow on the ground and we don't kill the bitch."

Daryl's narrowed his eyes at the man and he quickly calculated whether he could make that shot. He only needed to get him in the head. But he didn't like his chances that the other men wouldn't grab Beth and kill him before he had an opportunity to reload. He cursed under his breath.

Beth was biting her lip, trying to hold herself still but he could see a sliver of red where the knife had already cut her. It made him furious. He wanted to beat the living hell out of each of them with his bare hands for hurting her. Instead he very slowly lowered his crossbow to the ground and stepped over it. He could almost see the strange woman shaking her head at his stupidity.

He saw a walker some way down the street beginning to make its way towards them. Where there was one, more would follow.

The man who had a grip on Beth jerked her arm behind her sharply, making her cry out in pain.

Daryl punched one of the men who had gotten too close, blinded by his rage. He kicked one of the other men out of the way, striving to get to the asshole with his hands on Beth. Daryl was fumbling with his hunting knife, ready to take that man's hand off when he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and then everything went dark.

**AN: Oh it's another cliffhanger! I suck! I don't need to tell you who the woman was because you all are geniuses. **

**Enjoy the episode tonight and it's the same deal as last time, I'll be one week behind and I'd appreciate if there were no spoilers. Big thanks. **


	22. Chapter 22

They pulled a rough black bag off Beth's head. They had kept her sight obscured the whole time they were travelling. Beth drew in a deep breath, blinking to adjust to the new light. The last thing she had seen was a man sneak up behind Daryl and club him in the back of the head. She had struggled and screamed but Daryl had slumped to the ground and hadn't moved. That's when they had slid the cover over Beth's face.

One of the men's grinning faces filled her vision. He had a scar above his right eyebrow and he was missing a number of teeth. His breath was rotten on her skin. "We'll leave you to get settled."

They chuckled and nudged one another before leaving her. They had put her in a chair and bound her wrists behind her with rope. Her knife was long gone. Daryl was in a chair across from her, head falling forward. He was still unconscious. His hands were handcuffed to the arms of the chair. They had obviously deemed him more of a threat than Beth.

"Daryl," she hissed urgently. She kept her voice low in case the men were just outside. Daryl didn't stir and Beth had to fight the terror rising in her chest. She refused to panic. She imagined she could hear Daryl speaking to her the way he had in the car. Deep breaths. She was fine for now.

Beth took the opportunity to look around the room. It wasn't a very big space and the walls and roof were wooden. She would guess they were in some kind of barn or shed. They couldn't be too far out because they hadn't taken a car. They must have carried both her and Daryl. It was a lot of effort to get two people back to a safe house. Beth didn't want to consider why they had gone to all the trouble.

"Daryl," She whispered again. They hadn't taken his knife off him but he couldn't have reached it with his hands securely cuffed.

Daryl's eyelids fluttered and Beth leaned forward. The rope burned against her skin but she ignored it.

"What happened?" Daryl asked groggily, not lifting his head.

"They took us," Beth answered.

"Where?"

"I don't know." Beth's voice shook and Daryl lifted his head slowly, groaning at the effort.

"How are you feeling?" Beth asked, worried. The man had struck Daryl hard and she hoped he didn't have a concussion.

"Like some dick hit me in the head," he retorted grumpily. Beth leaned back with relief. It he was sniping at her, he couldn't feel too bad. Daryl tugged his wrists, only discovering he was handcuffed at that moment. He gritted his teeth.

"You handcuffed too?"

Beth shook her head. "They only tied me up."

"Start workin' your hands free," Daryl instructed her, like she was just supposed to know how to do that.

"I'm not sure how," she said timidly. Daryl glared at her and she wondered if he blamed her. She hadn't been waiting in the car like he had told her. She had been lingering near the door in case he needed her, but seeing her was the only reason the pack of men had stopped.

"It ain't rocket science. Just start wriggling 'em and get some movement."

The door to the barn banged open and they fell silent immediately. Daryl sat up straighter in his chair, glowering as two men walked in. One of the men had been the one to grab her earlier. He was tall with pitch black hair and a tiny scar at the corner of his mouth. He seemed pleased to see Daryl alert.

"Good, you're awake."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man. Beth saw his companion was carrying something that looked like a large gun and she prayed Daryl would keep his mouth shut. She'd wanted to shoot him herself a number of times and she was his friend, more or less. These strange men had no such allegiance.

The man turned his attention to Beth and she felt her insides freeze. He pulled another chair across and sat between them, like they were having a casual catch up and he hadn't kidnapped them.

"Where are you both from?"

Beth bit her lip and looked down. She could feel the man's eyes burning into her neck regardless.

Daryl wasn't nearly as scared. "Go t'hell!" he spat.

The man pushed to his feet with a sigh. "Now that's just rude. I just want to get to know you two." He circled behind Beth and absently tugged at her hair. Beth locked eyes with Daryl. She was petrified, her chest heaved as she strove to breathe evenly.

"Don't touch her," Daryl snapped.

"Or what?"

"_Or what?_ So help me, I get my hands on you-"

"Your hands are occupied," the man interrupted and Daryl wrenched at the handcuffs again.

"This your daughter?" He bent over to get a better look at Beth and she kept her face forward, not wanting him to see her fear. He didn't have a southern accent, more middle American.

"You both have blue eyes but there aren't many other similarities." The man suddenly grinned and it was horrifying.

"I know. You're fucking her right?"

Beth jerked her head up and Daryl was staring at the man in wide eyed shock. Even in her fright, she managed to blush, a deep crimson stain spreading from the top of her head to her toes. The man seemed to interpret her reaction and Daryl's open mouthed disbelief as a confession.

"Thought so," he added confidently. He faced Beth directly. "That the deal? He looks after you and you _look_ after him?"

Beth couldn't say anything. Her throat was tight. Daryl had never laid a hand on her that way. She thought about how her skin crackled when he only brushed her hand. She couldn't imagine the affect on her body if he touched somewhere significant. Her whole skin would be scorched.

"You son of a bitch!" Daryl's disdain for the man was palpable.

The man ignored Daryl's outburst. He laid a hand on Beth's thigh that raised the hair on the back of her neck. It invoked an indescribable sense of wrongness.

"We could work out a similar arrangement." His hand crept higher. "In exchange for a merciful death for your friend and protection for yourself. I have a number of lonely men in the compound."

Beth wanted to gag. It took her two tries to speak but when she did she raised her chin and said, "No thank you. I'm happy with my current situation."

Daryl was breathing heavily and the only thing stopping him from beating the creep's head into the ground were the handcuffs.

The man sighed. "That's a shame. I was hoping we could be civilised." He slapped Beth so hard across the face that black spots exploded in her vision. She was dimly aware of Daryl hollering at the man, calling him every foul name under the sun.

Beth could taste blood in her mouth and her ears were ringing. She had never had anyone raise a hand to her in her entire life. Even Daryl at his most violent had never stooped to actually hitting her.

Daryl was actually shaking from outrage. Daryl would do something like spit on the man's foot but Beth couldn't manage that. She could barely lift her head.

"That all you got?" she rasped.

The man chuckled. "You've got a spark in you, don't you?" He turned to Daryl. 'I bet she's a good lay. Innocent on the outside but dirty on the inside." His companion sniggered.

"I swear to god," Daryl said, "I'm gonna rip your tongue out."

The man straightened up and regarded Daryl properly. "When I've had my turn, want to compare notes?"

"Leave her be. Do what you want with me," Daryl invited him.

"I have no intention of messing up her face but you, you I can hurt."

He walked across to his companion and took the gun from him.

"Stop," Beth started to say. She couldn't watch Daryl be shot. She couldn't be left with them by herself.

"Relax, I'm not going to kill him just yet. I owe him some pain for shooting Mitchell."

The man examined the gun. Beth didn't know much about firearms but even she knew it was an unusually big weapon.

Daryl started to laugh mockingly. "A nail gun?" he asked incredulously.

The man shrugged. "See if you're still amused in a minute."

He walked behind Daryl, pressed the piece against his upper back and fired. Daryl yelled and Beth screamed, straining against her bonds.

Daryl's fingers wrapped around the arm of the chair tightly and he gasped in pain.

"Leave him alone!" Beth demanded.

"It's a tricky business using this on humans. Too much force and the nail goes right through the body and they die. You want to get it just far enough in to cause this." He gestured at Daryl's hunched form. He spoke like he was educating Beth. He slid the gun further alone Daryl's shoulder and released another nail into Daryl's flesh. This time Daryl didn't cry out. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. A third nail was sent into Daryl's skin. The sound of sharp metal being driven into flesh was one Beth didn't think she'd forget.

A fifth nail subsequently followed a forth.

Daryl didn't make another sound though.

The man looked surprised. "I'll give you this. You're a tough asshole."

Daryl just scowled at the man.

Another nameless male entered and came up to whisper in the leader's ear. He looked mildly perplexed.

"I have other things to attend to but I'll be back," he promised. He glanced at Beth. "Say goodbye to your lover. Next time, it won't end until he's dead. Then you and me will have some fun."

As soon as they were alone, Daryl's head fell forward and he let out a small whine of pain. "That guy is a real charmer," he said weakly. His pretences as being fine made Beth want to cry. She held it in, determined to be useful.

She wanted to say something nice but then realised who she was across from. "Stop being such a pussy and start thinking of ways to get outta here," she informed him curtly.

Daryl stared daggers at her, eyes blazing. "That the kinda language you use on a man who's just been shot?"

"Please," Beth scoffed. "Those nails were tiny."

Daryl jerked his arms in frustration but he was getting weaker. His body was probably going into shock. His anger was giving him energy but not enough. Beth was frantically twisting her wrists in the bonds. She had no idea how much time they had.

The skin felt like it had been scraped off her entire arm and she was sure she had just doubled the damage already inflicted on her arms but when she thought about that man touching her any more than he had, she didn't much mind the pain.

With a final groan, she worked her thumb free. From there it was quick. Beth was happy they underestimated her. With her hands unbound she quickly closed the distance between her and Daryl. She knelt next to him and lifted his head gently, cupping his cheeks between her palms.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl."

He leaned into her hand, wincing. That one action showed how much pain he was in. "Yeah, didn't feel too great."

Beth took a quick look at his back, hoping none had gone deep enough to puncture something important. She could see the tops of all the nails. Beth scanned the room, searching for something that would help get Daryl out. There was cupboard in the back. Beth ran to it and flung it open. What she saw stilled her heart. There was an assortment of tools. Daryl may have gotten off lightly with the nail gun after all. She pulled a saw out and noticed the tips of the blade were stained a dark brown. Beth's stomach turned. She could guess what it had been used for.

Returning to the chair, she began sawing quickly, wishing that she could be quieter. She compromised for speed. They hadn't come bursting in when she'd freed herself so she didn't think there was a guard directly outside. They were arrogant enough to think that the bindings had been enough. The first arm of the chair gave and Daryl tugged the handcuff free so that it was only dangling from his wrist. Beth started working on the other side. Daryl was starting to look more alert as he comprehended what she was doing and adrenaline took hold of his system. With his second wrist free, he pushed to his feet looking more like his old self.

The first thing he did was stride toward the collection of torture tools. He grabbed an axe out of the bottom. He grimaced as he hefted the thing into his arms.

"Take my knife," he grunted and Beth gingerly worked it free of the sheath.

They opened the door and found themselves outside. They hadn't even bothered to lock the door.

"Amateurs," Daryl sneered. He swayed and Beth had to grab his elbow to steady him. He brushed her off. "I'm fine," he informed her. Beth knew he was lying but he strode through the trees like a man possessed.

They hadn't seen a single person and Beth was just beginning to think they were going to have a clean get away when a man rounded the corner. He opened his mouth to shout and Daryl didn't hesitate. He swung the axe and it landed with a meaty thud in the man's throat. He slumped to the ground with a gurgle, his neck an open wound now. Daryl kicked the man once before stepping over him.

Beth followed, stepping over the body cautiously. Strong arms wrapped around her body from behind. Without hesitating, Beth drove the knife behind her, feeling it meet skin and muscle. The man screamed and she felt a hot rush of blood trail down her back.

She broke free and made for Daryl.

"Time to run," he said sounding weary. They set off and Daryl managed a pace that Beth struggled to keep up with despite being uninjured. Her cheek throbbed but it wasn't enough to slow her down, not when nails wouldn't slow Daryl down. She had never appreciated just how tough Daryl was until that moment.

They weren't far from the town as it turned out and Daryl's uncanny sense of direction led them swiftly to the store.

"What're you doin'?" Beth cried as Daryl made for the store, picking his crossbow up as he went.

"Gotta get the keys," he explained over his shoulder. Beth hastened after him.

Inside the door there was the bag Daryl had filled that hid the key. But there were an additional two bags filled with supplies and a scrawled note. _For when you get done kicking their ass_.

"That sneaky bitch," Daryl said with a grin. Beth didn't fully understand what he meant. They grabbed the bags and threw them in the car.

Beth took the driver's seat and screeched out of the town.

**AN: Beth to the rescue. Time for her to step up really. Michonne setting those supplies aside might seem out of character but I think Daryl and Michonne are kind of fundamentally similar people. I think they both have a dark history and lack of trust. They also can't resist a damsel in distress so Daryl attempt to rescue Beth would have earned her respect. Let me know what you think. It's one of those chapters that I personally like but may have fallen flat. **


	23. Chapter 23

Daryl couldn't sit back in the seat. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life but his back was still on fire. He had his elbows on his knees and his chin propped up in his hands. Beth had slowed down some when they cleared the town limits but not by much. She kept cutting her eyes to him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Watch the road."

"You're still tellin' me what to do?" Beth asked incredulously. Daryl cracked a tiny smile. He could still feel the ghost of her hands as she had tenderly cupped his face. Normally he'd drive that thought out of his head with a vengeance but he preferred to focus on that than the nails wedged into his back. Was it four or five? He couldn't remember. Luckily he'd had a tetanus shot last year but he'd have to get them out fast.

There was a blossoming spot of red on Beth's face where that son of a bitch had hit her. It made Daryl furious to see it and to know he'd been powerless to stop it happening. They were lucky to have escaped. The worst he would have endured was a few hours of pain and then death. Beth would have been in a nastier situation. Her face was pale and she was so focused on getting them out of there that she wasn't dealing with narrowly avoiding rape. The thought made him sick to his already unstable stomach. In the end he hadn't been able to do anything. Beth had saved the pair of them.

She hadn't even flinched when it came to killing that man. Daryl was actually proud of her. And a little anxious. Beth was the furthest thing from a killer that Daryl had met. Eventually she'd have to face her reaction to that. The handcuffs weighed heavily on his wrists.

Daryl never imagined how pleased he'd be to see that cabin. Beth hastened to his side, ready to help him but he got out on his own steam and made it quickly up the steps without any assistance. They both rushed as if the men were still hot on their tail. Beth slammed the door shut behind them and Daryl reached down and locked it.

They slumped against the door; Beth relieved and Daryl struggling to stand. Beth released a shaky breath and tilted her head up to look at him with concern. Even after everything that had happened to her, she was still worrying about him first.

Beth started to say something but Daryl didn't hear it. He fisted a hand in the back of her hair and dragged her against him. He pulled her up sharply so that his lips came down on hers hard. Beth squeaked in surprise but he brought his other hand to her uninjured cheek, pressing his lips firmly to hers, stopping any more noises.

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut. He felt guilty as sin but he was unable to tear himself away. Her small hands were resting lightly on his chest and Daryl was certain she'd be able to feel his heart pounding underneath her palm. His pulse seemed to spread until his entire body throbbed with the beat. He caught that faint scent of vanilla again.

Beth yielded under him and he could feel a faint pressure of her returning the kiss. He brushed her lower lip with his tongue and suddenly that reciprocation was gone. Her hands slowly but firmly pushed him back.

Daryl instantly leaned back. His hands still had possession of her body but he gave her some space from the rest of him. He could see a storm cloud of emotions in her eyes. Heat, confusion and fear. That last one sobered him. He really didn't have much sense of timing. She'd narrowly avoided a sexual assault and he had kissed her? She would have been within her rights to slap him but she hadn't.

Beth slipped out of his reach and Daryl let her go. He felt dizzy. Pain was catching up with him and his head was reeling from kissing Beth. It had been almost chaste but it had still rocked him to his core. He'd known he was attracted to Beth even though he had been fighting it, but he still didn't think kissing her would have this affect on him and he could only blame it on the disorientating fire spreading from the puncture wounds in his back.

Beth's face was carefully controlled. She reopened the door and slid outside. The door shut quietly behind her and Daryl only had his thoughts. She didn't look revolted or offended but she had told him once that she had no interest in kissing him. Daryl had disregarded that momentarily as his own need overwhelmed him. But it wasn't his imagination that she had kissed him back, if only for a second.

Daryl found his lock picking tools and set to work on his restraints. They weren't good quality and he was grateful for that. Probably stolen from some sex shop. He knew his back should come first but he couldn't abide looking at the bracelets dangling from his wrist a moment longer.

When he was done, Daryl started rummaging through the cupboard under the sink. He hauled the first aid kit out and then went in search of what he knew was hidden further in the darkness. With a satisfied grunt, he pulled out the bottle of alcohol.

Daryl took a quick mouthful and the sharp taste made him hiss. Then he began easing his shirt off. The nails had caught the fabric and he could already feel the material tugging the nails in his skin. His left arm was going numb and he took another swig of alcohol.

The door opened and Beth reappeared. She saw what he was doing and quickly crossed to him.

"Let me do that," she scolded.

"I got it," Daryl argued but dropped his hands. Beth shook her head at his stupidity. She didn't say anything about the kiss so Daryl wasn't going to bring it up. He had crossed some boundary between them and was perfectly happy to forget it had ever happened.

Daryl upended the bottle again as Beth started to undo the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers worked quickly and efficiently. Daryl couldn't help but stare at her as she eased his shirt open. A week ago he wouldn't have wanted her anywhere near him but now he kept hoping she'd accidently brush his skin with her fingers. She was attentive to her task and ignorant of his watchful gaze and pained expression.

"Sit down," Beth said authoritatively and Daryl didn't argue. The bottle found his mouth again and his head was buzzing.

"I wish we had some strong pain medication," Beth lamented as Daryl took a seat on the chair backwards. He shook the bottle and Beth looked exasperated.

"_Proper_ pain medication."

Beth started to work at the part of his shirt around the wound. Her fingers were gentle as she pried the blood soaked fabric free. Daryl gasped in pain.

Beth eased it off his shoulders and Daryl realised she was about to get a good look at his back. She'd seen it, he reminded himself. But that time she hadn't actually been very close and the bandage around his torso had obscured the worst of it. He waited for the audible reaction as his shirt fell to the ground but it never came. Beth merely started rifling through the first aid kit. She produced a pair of flimsy plastic tweezers.

As an afterthought, she grabbed the bottle of booze from his hand.

"Hey!" Daryl protested. "Weren't finished with that."

"You can have it back in a second." There was a pause and she added, "This'll hurt."

Daryl got a good sense of what was to come and gritted his teeth, wrapping his arm around the back of the chair. Beth poured the alcohol over his shoulder and Daryl cried out as the liquid seared his damaged skin.

"Fuck!" he ground out. He had a hundred other curse words that wanted to explode forth.

Beth promptly returned the liquor to his hand and he gulped at it. He was well on his way to getting drunk. Beth eased the tweezers under the head of the first nail and pulled. White hot pain ran down his entire back and he shifted away.

"Daryl, you can't move like that," Beth chided, sounding sincerely sorry he was in pain.

"I know," Daryl grunted. Beth tried again and Daryl fought to stay still but he still twitched.

"I don't want to do anymore damage by pulling them out wrong," Beth said quietly.

Daryl knew what she meant. They were dangerously close to hurting a muscle. Daryl stood up and Beth jumped back from his abrupt movement.

"Here's what we'll do," Daryl said thickly, "I'll lie down an' you sit on me."

"Sit on you?" Beth raised her eyebrows.

"I know you don't weigh anythin' but it's better than nothing." Daryl didn't wait for her to agree before he gingerly lowered himself to the ground, stomach first. Any action that involved his back was agony now. Daryl used his arms to rest his head on.

It was only a second before he felt the material of Beth's pants against his back and she sat carefully on his lower back. He was right; she barely weighed anything, but that pressure would still serve to keep him still.

Beth leaned forward and Daryl tensed as he felt the tweezers against his skin once more. Beth pulled the first nail out swiftly and Daryl jumped against her. Her knees tightened against his rib cage and she exerted a little force to keep him flat.

Another nail followed and it was as bad as the first but a numbness had spread through his back by the last three.

He could hear Beth tutting at his back.

"Two of these are gonna need stitches."

"Get it over with," Daryl barked out hoarsely.

He could feel her shift above him as she reached for the first aid kit again.

"We're lucky this was here," Beth said, sounding relieved. Daryl couldn't work up the same enthusiasm since it was his skin about to be pierced with that needle and thread.

"You know what you're doin'?" He asked to distract himself.

"Sure," Beth said automatically. He didn't get a chance to speculate about the validity of that statement. The needle slid through his skin and his fingers curled into his arms.

Daryl closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. Beth stuck some bandages to his skin and he exhaled with relief that it was done. It had hurt way worse than expected. Beth got off him and Daryl lifted his head. The cabin was dim, night had set in. Beth was wedging the chair back under the door handle.

Beth had to help him stand. "You take the bed tonight," Beth said, pushing him gently in that direction. He swayed when he stood and Daryl knew he'd consumed too much of the alcohol but he appreciated the dulling of the pain.

He got into the bed, awkwardly lying on his unhurt side. They definitely needed to find a place with more comfortable bedding soon.

Beth made a makeshift bed on the floor with blankets. Daryl closed his eyes again and waited for sleep to come but he couldn't drift off. There was still too much movement in the cabin. Beth was rolling around on squeaky floor boards, trying desperately to get comfortable. Her shifting was unbelievably loud.

Being intoxicated made him bold. Or stupid. "C'mon, get up here," he murmured sleepily.

Beth froze. "Excuse me?"

"Can't sleep with you wrigglin' around like you're covered in ants, so you may as well come share the bed."

The silence extended so long he suspected Beth was going to stay where she was. Then he saw her outline move through the dark. He lifted the covers and Beth climbed in next to him. There was some awkward adjusting while they tried to fit two bodies into the cramped space. Beth ended up with her back to Daryl's chest, head tucked neatly under his chin. Daryl arm was flung across her waist. She was warm against his body. She was still tense but Daryl didn't care.

"How old are you anyway?" Daryl asked, mumbling his words.

"Seventeen," Beth whispered back in the dark.

"Still ain't good," Daryl mused.

"What do you mean?" Beth asked but Daryl didn't answer. He was already asleep.

Hours later, Daryl slowly became aware. His eyes were still shut but he was awake. There was a pounding behind his eyeballs that told him he was an idiot and he was hungover. He could feel a tickling sensation on his back and that's what had woken him. He was sure it was Merle messing with him and then his brain caught up with the situation. It wasn't Merle carefully tracing the lines on his bare back.

He turned quickly, banging his injured shoulder and making him yelp. Beth was hovering over him, a shocked expression on her face and her long blond hair swung forward over one side of her face, tickling his bare chest. She had one curious hand raised as if about to touch him again. He had caught her red handed and all they could do was blink at each other, startled.

**AN: Ah, the first kiss. Always a lot of pressure so let me know what you all thought. We do a bit of a jump back for Beth's POV next chapter. I think it's important to highlight how stupid they both are at understanding each other's motivation at this point. Unrelated, anyone here watching Once Upon a Time and caught ep 5? THAT is how you do a kiss after building up the sexual tension. Oh the pent up sexual frustration. Bravo Disney, bravo. **


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: None of you saw the kiss coming! Boom. I feel like a mother ducking magician *finger guns*. Next kiss coming up... in the next 23 chapters.**

**.**

**.**

Beth froze as Daryl looked up at her passively. She had a very real desire to run but her body was tangled up in blankets and Daryl's limbs, and he seemed quite content to lie there and wait for an explanation.

Sharing a bed with Daryl had been strange enough. Strange because it had been awfully comfortable and natural once they had overcome the first awkward minutes of adapting to another person in the bed. Beth had never shared a bed with a man before and she wasn't certain what went where. Daryl hadn't been quite as put out by the experience but Beth was told herself that was because of the alcohol. The idea of Daryl being an accomplished bed sharer because he had a woman in his past was uncomfortable for Beth and she was horrified to identify jealousy as the culprit.

One kiss and she developed a sense of entitlement? The kiss she had fled from. She hadn't expected Daryl to grab at her like that. Her stomach had dropped when he roughly pulled her to him, tilting her head back. It had all happened so fast and then he was kissing her. She'd had more invasive kisses with Jimmy but nothing like this. Just Daryl's lips pressed against hers made her weak in the knees. But she had thought of Jimmy at the same time Daryl had increased the intensity.

She needed to think and her brain just couldn't function with his hands on her and those blue eyes watching her. She had pushed him away lightly, not wanting to offend him. Daryl has responded instantly and he looked vaguely surprised by his own actions. Beth had ducked outside and let the cool evening air wash over her. Her hands were shaking anew and it had nothing to do with the horrifying experience of the morning.

The implication that her and Daryl were lovers had thrown her but it had created the spark of an idea in the back of her head too. Daryl was so fiery and controlling that the idea of being with him was equal parts scary and fascinating. But there had never been any indication that he'd thought of her as more than a platonic companion. At least until the kiss and that's why Beth didn't trust it. He was half out of his mind with pain even though he pretended he was fine. Beth didn't want to complicate things by allowing him to do something he would never have done if he'd been in his right mind. He'd saved her life again and she would always be grateful so now she wanted to protect him from himself.

Complicating his life was the first thing Beth thought of and her own fidelity second. She didn't know if Jimmy was alive but if he was, she knew he'd be searching for her. Even if he'd never made her react the way Daryl had, didn't she owe him some respect and faithfulness? Beth wasn't sure. She'd never read about what the polite thing to do when your boyfriend might be dead in the apocalypse but you weren't sure, but you were having lustful thoughts about the much older man who protected you. They just hadn't covered that kind of thing in Cosmo.

She had told Daryl she wouldn't want to kiss him if he was the last person alive. How she'd been made a liar. All she'd wanted to do in that moment was walk back in and let him kiss her thoroughly and comprehensively.

When her breathing was under control, she went back inside. Her instinct to protect Daryl from himself was on the money. He was trying to tug his shirt off one handed while he got drunk. He didn't seem embarrassed by their brief kiss and so Beth was determined to be mature and act accordingly.

Drunk Daryl had ended up inviting her into his bed, just to be nice Beth was certain. Beth had found his heartbeat against her back was soothing, his hand rested on her stomach innocently. At least he probably thought it was innocent judging by the way he fell asleep quickly. Beth had fixated on the warmth and pressure far past a normal person should but eventually she too drifted off.

They had shifted in their sleep and when Beth woke up, Daryl was lying on his stomach and her cheek was against his back. He was still breathing deeply and evenly. Beth propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at him. She could see the play of muscles under the skin of his back. His skin was tanned with a tattoo that stretched down the right side of his back. Now that she wasn't absorbed by her medical duties she could look at it properly. Two figures stretched along the back and Beth had reached out to touch it, curious despite herself. She'd never met anyone with a tattoo, at least not one she could see.

She could see the scars as well; ranging from faint white lines to raised purple ridges, decorating his flesh. Beth knew she shouldn't touch but she couldn't resist. She may as well stop pretending that she didn't want to know everything there was to know about the enigmatic hunter and these scars were a huge part of his life.

His skin was smooth under her fingertips. She carefully traced a particularly long one down the middle of his back. She was just reaching out to brush the cross scar on the left side just under the white bandage when Daryl was suddenly staring up at her. He had shifted so suddenly and Beth wondered how long he'd been awake while she explored. She waited for him to be mad. Even she could admit she was violating his privacy by doing it. At first he just looked confused but that had been followed by a patient curiosity as he waited for Beth to explain herself.

Instead of offering an excuse she asked, "How did they happen?"

Daryl's gaze darkened and she expected him to fly off the handle but he didn't. "Belt mostly," he replied. There was a strain to his voice and she could tell he was keeping it emotionless with great effort.

Beth didn't know what the correct thing to say was. She had never met someone who had been abused. Daryl's blue eyes tracked her closely as she nodded sadly, processing what he told her.

She spotted a scar lower on his torso. It was the only mark on his front. Beth covered it with her palm.

"Arrow," Daryl said without being asked. His voice was tight now and his body was tense like he was holding his breath.

"When Nelly threw you," Beth clarified.

"Stupid horse," Daryl grunted and he sounded like Daryl again. Beth grinned slightly at his continued bitterness at a horse who knew no better.

They fell silent, Daryl watching her face and Beth taking in every part of Daryl she could, seeing as how it appeared he'd given his permission.

"'M sorry about yesterday," Daryl said hastily.

Beth glanced up and was confused initially but something in his body language let her know he was talking about the kiss.

"It's ok," Beth said, feigning nonchalance. It was more than ok. It was downright enlightening.

Daryl cleared his throat, apparently not done with what he wanted to say.

"What those men said," he started and Beth tensed. Daryl hurried on, "I just wanted to say, that's never been the deal. I'll look out for you regardless an' you don't owe me nothin', definitely not _that_."

Beth blushed and was surprised when he did too.

"You never made me feel like you were going to do that." Beth grinned wryly, "You may be an ass some days but you're an honourable man. I trust you, Daryl."

And she really did. After everything was said and done, he'd rushed to defend her. He hadn't hesitated or waited, he'd just done it. Her hand was still on his stomach and she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Her hair had swung forward, creating a kind of curtain around both their faces. Beth wanted to kiss him again. She was so close, it would be easy to bend down and press her mouth to his. His eyes were sharp and Beth believed that he could read her mind at that moment and he was still just lying there waiting.

Beth wanted to but she couldn't. She was too scared to close the gap between them. What if he didn't actually want anything to do with her like that and was just unable to move because of his injured shoulder. He was an adult and she was a fumbling teenager who had no idea how to make an advance on him. So instead of kissing him, Beth pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ear as she went. She smiled shyly as she got out of the bed.

"I'll get you something to eat."

...

"You wanna go over what we need?" Rick asked.

Andrea looked over her shoulder at him. "Food!"

Rick smothered a smile. Andrea's dry tone was growing on him. "I meant, anything specific."

"I'm too hungry to give a damn about anything else," Andrea shot back turning her attention back to the town. They'd left Hershel and Carl behind while they had ventured out to get some supplies. Andrea had a gun strapped to her hip and her hand kept hovering over the handle. She was on edge and Rick couldn't blame her.

It seemed the group of men hadn't moved on. They seemed convinced that Rick and his had a safe haven that they could be lead back to. Rick wanted to sit them down and tell them nowhere was safe. If you thought you were safe, it was an illusion.

Food was real, family was real. He'd not seen Lori since that night on the farm and he was beginning to fear that she was dead. It was a growing ache in his belly while he told Carl he was certain that tomorrow would be the day they found her.

They chanced one more trip to the car, Andrea and Rick going alone again and they'd found the note Hershel had left. Two names had been added to the bottom. Beth and Daryl scribed in neat precise script. Hershel had turned away when they'd returned with the note and Rick saw the hint of tears. He'd left him alone, wanting to give the man a moment alone with his relief.

Rick was honestly surprised that Beth had survived that night on the farm and even more shocked to discover that Daryl had been the one to rescue her. He hoped Daryl wasn't being too hard on the girl.

There was still no sign of Maggie though and that was worrying Hershel, even as he rejoiced about Beth.

Andrea stepped out on to the road. "We should get moving."

Rick agreed. He wanted to be back out of sight as soon as possible. They found a little store and was disheartened to see the windows had been smashed in. Andrea exchanged a look with him and pulled her gun out. Rick pulled out his knife instead. If there were walkers then he wanted to deal with it silently.

They stepped inside, broken glass crunching under his feet. The shelves were almost bare. There was a pack of granola bars pushed behind some laundry detergent. It was a strange place for them to be and Rick had almost missed them. He figured maybe someone was hiding them for later. He felt guilty but he had a hungry son to think off.

Andrea hastily shoved them in her backpack. They kept searching.

Andrea lifted a bottle of ketchup and raised an eyebrow. Rick shrugged then nodded. It was less than inspiring but when it was all said and done, that was a little extra substance in their bellies.

Finally they discovered two cans of tuna that had fallen forgotten under the shelves. Andrea bent down and fished them out.

That wouldn't keep them going for long and eventually they'd have to venture further out to find food. Rick didn't want to leave this little area because it was his only link to his wife. If only he could find Daryl then maybe he could track the others down.

They made their way to the front of the store. Rick glimpsed movement and only managed to shove Andrea down low before a walker ambled by groaning.

He could feel Andrea tense under his hand. She was eager to stand up and kill the creature but Rick held her down. Another walker staggered into view behind it and then a third. Rick cursed. It wasn't a herd as big as what they had encountered on the highway but there were enough of them that it would be a problem if they noticed Rick and Andrea.

One of them started to veer into the open door. Rick tightened his grip on the knife. Killing it would alert the rest to their presences. They would need to make a run for it.

The walker spotted them and moaned. Rick struck fast and stabbed it in the head. It was over in seconds but the movement attracted the attention of more walkers. He and Andrea pushed out of the store. If they got pressed back in they would be killed. There was no back way out.

Rick kicked one in the guts and Andrea stabbed it up behind the ear.

Andrea stuck close to him. Moving back to back, they were making some head way. There were still too many.

"We need to lose 'em," Rick grunted. Even if they could outpace the walkers, they didn't want to lead them directly to their camp.

"Agreed," Andrea said, emphasising her words by quickly stabbing a looming walker.

"We passed a side street on the way here, if we can make it. There was a fence at the end; if we get over it we can lose them."

"Lotta ifs," Andrea noted but she didn't offer a better plan.

"C'mon," Rick said gesturing the way.

They were about to duck down the alley when movement caught Rick's eye again. It wasn't a walker, this person was moving fast. Rick blinked and took a step forward.

"Maggie?"

Andrea spotted the figure too, even though she hadn't seen them. It was obviously Maggie and she was carrying a bag. Rick couldn't see anyone with her and she was running fast.

Rick wanted to rush to her side but there were a sea of walkers separating them. Andrea grabbed his elbow.

"We can't," she said simply and Rick knew she was right.

He turned his back on Maggie and took off. Walkers were following them. He laced his fingers and gave Andrea a boost. She scrambled over the fence with surprising dexterity. Rick dug his boot into the links of the chain and hauled himself up and over. He dropped to the ground at the same time the walkers collided with the fence, pressing their teeth up against the wire. His ankle rolled a little on impact and Andrea steadied him.

They didn't share any more words, just started running again. Rick's head was full of thoughts of Maggie. Was she out there by herself or was she meeting someone a ways out of town? Rick could only speculate.

**AN: I'm just going to be upfront, these two are going to move **_**slow**_**. I hope the journey still entertains you. Enjoy Halloween tomorrow. Only five more days until I can watch two more episodes. It's not like I've started to go crazy at all... Send help!**


	25. Chapter 25

Daryl was tired but elated. He swung his legs over the bike and made his way toward the cabin. He'd had a productive day. He'd managed to find a stock of food in a school cafeteria. It had more preservatives in it than he'd thought children should be exposed to, but that meant it was still fine to eat, months after the world had gone to shit.

Not only that but on a whim he had driven down a dirt road that he'd all but missed and he'd found another cabin, even further out than the one he and Beth currently shared. It wasn't much bigger but it had a bathroom, a river nearby and, most importantly, twin beds.

It had been a week since they had narrowly escaped those assholes. Daryl had put it in the past but Beth was still frightened. When he'd gone tracking through the woods, seeking better accommodations and fresh game, Beth had happily accompanied him. He had been teaching her a thing or two about using the crossbow even though she was still a terrible shot. But if he even mentioned town, she tensed up. She was more afraid of humans than walkers now. She never outright refused and Daryl hadn't pushed her yet but ultimately he'd have to make her come one day. She needed to overcome that fear eventually.

Daryl would have avoided the town altogether except they needed more food than what they could get off the land. That and he couldn't forget the words the stranger had spoken to him about the Asian boy with the baseball cap. Daryl was certain it was Glenn and if he was alive, chances were someone else was too.

There were a number of dead walkers in the street this time and Daryl was confident there were still people in the area. Whether they were his people or more trouble, he wasn't certain yet.

Daryl wanted to get a full night's sleep before he shifted them over to the new cabin. He could barely keep his eyes open. His shoulder was itching terribly and he knew it was time to take the stiches out of the wound. He'd have to get Beth to do it, he thought irritably. He and Beth had been sharing the camp bed since that night when he'd drunkenly invited her in. It wasn't something they discussed, it was just a silent and mutual agreement that Daryl was still too sore to sleep on the hard ground and Beth was just never made to sleep on the floor regardless. But to compensate they had gone out of their way to avoid contact during waking hours.

There had been minimal fallout from the kiss and of that Daryl was thankful. They both seemed content to ignore it. There had been one moment the next morning when he'd felt certain Beth was going to kiss him but nothing happened. Daryl was glad because that would just complicate things. At least he told himself he was glad. Beth wasn't the type of girl that could just go around kissing people without it starting to mean something and Daryl was far too damaged to give her anything like that. It was better that he slipped back into the role of platonic guardian.

It was easier to commit to that course out in the sunshine. It was curled up on that ridiculously tiny camp bed that Daryl's resolve was tested.

He was just nearing the door when he heard a shriek. He recognised Beth's voice. Daryl dropped the bags and gripped his crossbow. Daryl threw open the door and pointed his weapon into the space.

Beth was standing on the camp bed, terrified. Daryl narrowed his eyes but for the life of him he couldn't see a single threat. The cabin looked completely empty. He cut his eyes back to Beth and wondered whether she was sleep walking. She appeared to be properly awake.

"What's goin' on?" he asked tersely.

Beth opened her mouth but then there was movement on the floor near the camp bed.

Daryl had a chance to ask "what the he-" before he was cut off. He only had a second to brace himself before Beth literally launched herself at him. The breath was driven from his body as Beth latched on to him. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he got a mouthful of blond hair.

He had to awkwardly hold her up one handed. He wasn't pointing the crossbow any more though. There was nothing to shoot.

"You wanna explain to me what's got you actin' like this?" he asked dryly.

Beth pointed. "You don't see it?" she asked incredulously.

Daryl shook his head. Great, she'd gone crazy. He'd left her alone for a few hours and she gone out and eaten some poorly chosen mushrooms. Now she was hallucinating. At least the oddness of the situation was completely distracting him from the physical sensation of having Beth curled around him. He was too confused to be attracted to her this very second.

"You get into Merle's stash?"

Beth hit his shoulder, clearly annoyed he wasn't taking this horrible, and _invisible_, menace seriously.

"No! It's right by the bed," she insisted.

Daryl sighed and squinted obediently in that direction. There was a tiny bit of movement again and the sound of rustling.

"Oh for the love of everythin' sacred. That's a _mouse_, Beth!" He was exasperated. The girl dealt with walkers with less histrionics than this.

"Right," Beth agreed, completely overlooking his infuriated tone. Daryl twisted to look at her. Her face was pale and she looked legitimately afraid. This was one of them stupid girly phobias. He groaned. He just wanted to eat something and sleep. He toed the door wider and walked them both outside. He deposited Beth out beside his bike and strode back inside muttering the whole time.

Daryl aimed his crossbow at the thing feeling ridiculous. He didn't want to kill the little creature. It wasn't even big enough to make a meal; otherwise he would have no problems.

He put his crossbow on the ground and crouched low instead. He dove on the thing quickly, before it had a chance to race off. It squeaked, just as frightened of the humans as Beth apparently was of it. His shoulder twinged with the lunge.

"Is it dead?" Beth called.

"Yeah," Daryl responded, concealing the squirming body in the corner of his vest.

When he went outside, he went past Beth quickly. "Just gotta get rid of it. Don't wanna attract no walkers."

Beth visibly recoiled from him. Didn't seem to matter much to her whether it was alive or not. Daryl walked a little distance into the woods and released the little creature. Good thing they were moving away because the cold weather would just drive the rodents to seek shelter. Beth would probably recognise that mouse and know he hadn't killed it.

When he got back inside the cabin, Beth was heating up soup. Daryl had managed to scavenge two bowls and two spoons on one of his forays.

"You done with hissy fits for the evenin' cause I'm fairly worn out," Daryl said, shoving the seat under the door handle.

"Mice are disgusting," Beth said unapologetically.

"You're an idiot," Daryl said wearily, sitting across from her on the floor. She sniffed primly at his insult.

She carefully poured the food out and Daryl noticed his serving was larger than hers. She always did that, made sure he got the majority of the food. His annoyance with her softened. He's only been working with her for a week, she wasn't going to magically become as tough as he was over night. She was already better at killing walkers; he could deal with one incident involving a mouse.

"Did you see anybody?" It was normally the first question she asked when he got back.

"No but saw some dead walkers. Maybe it was one of ours responsible."

Beth smiled and began to eat her soup. It was such a small thing but she still managed to derive some hope from it.

"Also found a better cabin, a ways out."

Beth nodded, trying to play it cool but Daryl knew she hated this dingy little shack.

"I see through that," Daryl waved his spoon in her direction. The innocence was broken by a wicked grin. Daryl was discovering that Beth actually had a sense of humour. Mostly it was at his expense but still, it was infinitely better than the sulking child he'd met on the farm.

"We'll have to start fortifyin' it tomorrow," Daryl said.

"Sounds like a plan," Beth said.

"You better take the stiches out tonight."

"I can do that. They giving you trouble?"

"Startin' to itch something terrible."

"That means they're healing," Beth explained.

Daryl glared. "I know what it means. Still want them gone."

Beth didn't falter under his hard gaze. She was developing a thicker skin when it came to his surliness. She was beginning to see that it was just part of his personality rather than a targeted attack. She knew the difference between when he was just in a mood and when he was being deliberately hurtful. They'd only had one proper fight in the last week. He'd come home, aggravated by a fruitless day of searching and Beth's questions had irritated him. So he'd meanly suggested that probably everyone was dead. She'd blanched and run outside and Daryl had spent the next few hours feeling guilty for lashing out. She'd come back in eventually, just when Daryl had been on the brink of tracking her down and apologising. He was relieved he hadn't had to because he was pretty shitty at apologising.

...

Beth finished the soup and wished for more food. It had been a long time since she could just eat until she was satisfied. They had enough food but they wanted to create a stockpile for the winter months. Neither of them knew how much they'd be able to seek for food once the cold set in. Beth was worried about her family. If they were still alive, Beth knew they'd be looking for shelter too. They were running out of time to find them.

The two extra bags the woman had given them had helped. There were blankets as well as warm coats. Beth had tried them on and both were far too big. They'd fit Daryl comfortably. When winter really set in, Beth didn't think she'd mind the extra large size. She didn't know what had possessed the woman to help them. Beth's first impressions didn't have her pegged as a charity minded person.

One day while Daryl was searching in town for evidence of her family, Beth had settled down to go through the gift properly. It was full of useful things and some food. At the bottom, Beth glimpsed a brightly coloured box. Her forehead had creased because she didn't recognise it. When she pulled it out, she immediately dropped it again. The woman had stashed condoms in the bag for them. Beth had blushed and was grateful for the solitude in the cabin. What exactly had the woman surmised about her relationship with Daryl?

Beth had almost thrown them away. Instead she had ended up hiding them away in a backpack full of female clothing where Daryl would never see them. She had no intention of using them with Daryl but they might come in handy some time for somebody else. Lori had gotten pregnant after all.

Beth pulled a candle closer to where Daryl sat now. She wanted some light on the subject if she was going to take out the sutures. Her father had taught her how to put them in when one of their cows had taken a nasty gash on the leg. He'd never shown her how to take them out.

Daryl hesitated before tugging up his shirt. He'd been careful to leave it on around her since that morning when she'd touched his scars and thought about kissing him. Even now they shared a bed, he was careful to keep those barriers between them. Beth was thankful; she didn't know what she would have done pressed up against his bare torso night after night.

With his back to her, Beth took a moment to appreciate the sight. It was impossible not to let her imagination run rampant after that one kiss and she almost felt silly for it. He'd probably kissed loads of girls whereas he made male number three for Beth and that was counting an incredibly awkward and fumbling first kiss at thirteen. He certainly wasn't fixated on it the way she was. His arms were toned and strong, his abdomen was flat and there were two lines of muscles that dipped low into his pants. Jimmy didn't have that definition there. Jimmy hadn't had much definition at all. Beth even thought Daryl had a handsome back despite, or maybe because of, the scars and she secretly found his tattoos very sexy. She had never raised the subject of the scars again with Daryl because she could tell they were a piece of himself that he kept locked away and she didn't want to presume by asking him any more questions.

Daryl was handsome Beth was starting to realise, in a way she'd never would have noticed before. He'd still never told her how old he was but Beth didn't think it would make him less attractive. Beth gently ran a hand over his shoulder under the guise of inspecting the progress of the injuries. She felt a little thrill at being so bold. Daryl shivered under her touch.

"Sorry," Beth apologised quickly. "Cold hands."

"Yeah, freezin'," Daryl agreed absently.

Beth looked at her selection of tools and selected a thin pair of scissors. When they left this god forsaken hovel she would definitely be taking this first aid kit with her.

Biting her lip in concentration, Beth eased one of the open blades under the first suture. Beth hadn't seen her handiwork since she had first done it. The stitches were a little wide and uneven but they had served. The thread gave after a bit of pressure and Beth eased it out of his skin. The sight was gross and yet fascinating. Daryl hissed at the motion.

Beth paused. She leaned forward to ask him if he was alright.

"Why'd you stop-" Daryl started to ask, turning over his shoulder. His chin unintentionally grazed Beth's cheek, the stubble rough against her skin. Daryl stopped talking instantly. Beth pulled away so she could face him directly but he was still too close. She had a hand on his right shoulder to steady herself. She'd clean forgotten what she was supposed to be asking.

Daryl's blue eyes always made her feel like something was physically touching her and it was only getting worse.

She swallowed. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Daryl said roughly, swivelling to face the wall again.

Beth focused on her work, still feeling on edge. She made a conscious vow to be more subtle. She and Daryl had just started to have a functional relationship; she didn't need to ruin it by pining after him.

**AN: Just a lighter chapter because I felt like a giggle. Also, mice are evil. I'm cool with spiders and snakes but by god if I'm not going to climb on the kitchen counter and scream if there is a mouse. **

**So there was a little time jump and they've created an almost companionable relationship, a rough one with a heavy dose of denial but it's working for them. **


	26. Chapter 26

The word that came to mind was quaint when Beth looked at the cabin. It was almost pretty. Well it had been. She and Daryl had been hammering wood over the windows, rendering them useless. It would stop walkers from spotting them but it would also keep the cold out.

Beth was still struck by how small it was. If a herd the size of the one that had come through her farm decided to attack the cabin, they'd tear it out of the ground.

Daryl had plenty of ideas though.

"Did you see what that woman had with her?" He asked as they took a break to drink some water. Beth's hands were raw from the hard work and her skin was going pink in the sunshine.

"No, you pretty much blocked my view of everything," Beth pointed out as she took the bottle from Daryl.

"Yeah, you're welcome," Daryl said wryly. Beth poked her tongue out at him before taking a sip.

"She had walkers on chains," Daryl said and Beth spluttered on her mouthful.

"Why?" she demanded, aghast.

"I think for camouflage. They didn't have no arms or teeth," Daryl recounted thoughtfully.

"So what're you thinking?" Beth prompted, already not liking the sound of it.

Daryl shrugged. "We could do that too. Tie 'em up to trees and posts. Create a ring around the cabin."

Beth shuddered at the thought. She didn't know how Daryl could so calmly sit there and talk about doing that.

"Wouldn't they try and get us?"

Daryl shook his head. "Don't think so. They just stood there in that shop. I was thinkin' 'bout it and I'm pretty convinced that made 'em tame."

"Where we gonna find walkers with no teeth and no arms?"

Daryl glanced at her.

"Oh,' Beth said. "We weren't gonna find them. We're gonna make them."

"It'll mask us from other walkers and hopefully it'll keep people at bay too."

It was a good idea, Beth reluctantly decided. A disgusting, skin crawling idea, but practical.

"What else were you thinking?" Beth struggled to keep her tone free of revulsion. Daryl seemed genuinely interested in the topic.

"We should also dig some pits, just in case. Maybe the whole way round except for some space to get the car an' bike through."

Beth liked that suggestion more. Less body parts involved at the very least.

"When do you want to go walker hunting?" Beth asked slowly.

"Whenever. Already got the rope."

Beth raised her eyebrows. Clearly Daryl had been thinking about this for some time. She didn't have a single logical reason to object beyond feeling squeamish.

"You don't have't help," Daryl offered slowly.

Beth squared her shoulders. Lately she had been letting Daryl shoulder too much of the responsibility and she was determined to change that. "No, I wanna help."

That's how she ended up trailing Daryl through the forest a few hours later. Daryl had led them in there, casually saying, "No sense puttin' off what you can do today."

"You read that on a fortune cookie?" Beth had grumbled behind him but Daryl didn't answer. He liked being in the woods, that much was obvious. He was more relaxed out in the middle of nature than Beth had seen him elsewhere. She figured it was because he felt in control out here.

They were being loud through the underbrush. She could tell Daryl had to fight his instincts to actually make the noise but the prey they were hunting today would come towards the sounds.

They didn't spot anything for a long time. Beth was getting happier at the idea they might avoid the whole situation for a while longer while Daryl became increasingly agitated.

Beth's luck didn't hold and a walker was spotted through the trees. Daryl threw a stone at it, making it sway in their direction. They didn't want to yell at it to draw it in; they only wanted to have one at a time to cope with.

Daryl moved forward to deal with the walker directly. He had forgone his crossbow and brought the axe with him. Arrows were only good for death blows. They wouldn't slow a walker down if they landed anywhere else.

Beth was responsible for holding the length of rope while Daryl awkwardly wrestled the thing to the ground. Her heart leapt into her mouth as Daryl neatly dodged its snarling mouth. If things got out of hand, Daryl promised he'd just kill it. Beth would have done so by now but Daryl didn't look phased.

He got the thing on its stomach and Beth hastened to help. She put pressure on its back, keeping the thing face first into the ground. It struggled against her and her eyes widened as she felt its strength.

Daryl didn't hesitate, drawing its arm out along the ground. He swung with the axe and Beth found herself sprayed with blood. She hastily shut her eyes as bone and tendons were separated under the bulky blade.

Daryl quickly switched to the other arm and hacked it off with equal precision. He gestured Beth away from the squirming walker. She knew they couldn't really feel pain but the sounds it made still chilled her.

Daryl had to use his foot to flip it onto its back. A well placed boot on its upper chest stopped it from rising up. Daryl fit his axe in the open mouth and worked it down until flesh gave and the bottom of its jaw came off. Then he used the handle to smash out the teeth in its upper jaw.

Beth wordlessly passed him the rope and Daryl wound it around the neck of the creature, tugging it to its feet. It wasn't completely docile, gurgling noises still emerged from its throat, but it didn't lunge at them either. Beth could only stare at the transformation. Daryl had been right. His body was even more covered in blood than Beth's was.

Beth felt her stomach shift and she reeled away. She threw up into the bushes, what little she ate that day now on the forest floor.

When she was upright, she found Daryl had taken a step closer and was watching her with concern. Beth waved him back.

"I'm good," she said weakly.

"I can do this by myself,' Daryl suggested again.

"I gotta learn to do difficult things." She walked closer to Daryl and slipped the axe out of his hand. Her stomach roiled but she clutched the axe. "I'll do the next one."

...

Daryl was watching Beth carefully as she washed her arms in the river. Three walker sentries now stood out front of the cabin, tied up in the trees. They would have to find some posts to make it a proper circle but it was a start.

One of them was now short a set of arms thanks to Beth. Daryl would have put money on the fact she wouldn't go through with it but she'd done it. He could see the horror on her face after the first swing of the axe didn't separate the arm and she'd had to scythe at it a number of times but she'd eventually done it.

The jaw was the worst part. Even that had given Daryl the creeps but Beth had come through. He'd done the last one because she was too tired to do it again but he was impressed. He knew she'd thrown up again when they'd gotten back to the cabin. Daryl had tied them securely to the trees and Beth had ducked behind the cabin but his trained ears had heard the retching. But he'd honoured her wishes and pretended like he'd never heard it.

Beth retreated inside once her arms were clean. Daryl followed her example and washed his arms and his face. He was about due for a proper wash but the sun was too low on the horizon and he didn't want to be splashing around in the dark. Tomorrow, he'd definitely make the effort to bathe. He was happy to be dirty but he could see that there was going to be a lot more walker blood in his near future.

Beth had tugged her hair out of its ties he saw when he got inside. There was a fine smattering of blood in the ends of her hair but she didn't seem to have noticed and Daryl wasn't going to point it out. He wasn't the only one who needed a good scrubbing, that much was clear. He had to fight a grin at the idea he'd brought Beth down to his level.

Beth noticed his smirk and regarded him suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothin'."

Beth rubbed at her shoulder wincing. "It better be nothing. I'm in no mood for your insults, Dixon."

"What's up with your shoulder?" he asked, ignoring the red flag she'd practically waved.

"Just swung an axe through somebody's arm," Beth retorted.

"Weren't no somebody. They're just dead bodies," Daryl corrected.

"That move around?"

"Didn't say they were your typical dead body."

Daryl grabbed her wrist as she walked by and pulled her in front of him so she had her back to him.

"What're you doing?" Beth asked, sounding apprehensive.

"Relax," Daryl said, rolling his eyes. "I ain't gonna eat you."

He brushed her hair out of the way and ran testing fingers along her shoulders and up her neck. He was trying to feel if any of her muscles were strained or put out. Beth gasped as he dug his thumb into her shoulder.

"Just as I thought," Daryl murmured.

"What?" Beth asked, sounding scared.

"You actually used muscles for the first time ever."

"Ass," she snapped, trying to swat him over her shoulder.

Daryl chuckled and held her in place. "None of that foul language, there are gentleman present."

"If you're a gentleman than I'm the queen of bloody England," Beth snorted.

He could feel a knot in her muscles and he carefully increased pressure on it. Her skin was like satin under his rough fingertips. Beth moaned and stepped back a little. Daryl felt the sound she made tear through his body.

"That hurt?" he asked.

"Yeah but don't stop," Beth whispered. Daryl's face heated up. He knew how satisfying it was to have the tenseness eased out of your muscles and that's all she was referring to. But at the same time he couldn't help but imagine her arching into him, breathing those exact words into his ear in entirely different circumstances.

Daryl was glad she couldn't see his expression. It was with great effort that he kept his administrations localised. He didn't think he could explain it if he started stroking her entire back.

"Where'd you learn all this?" Beth asked breathlessly.

"A fat, hairy hunter named Bob," Daryl answered. Beth laughed but Daryl wasn't joking. Somewhere in his teenage years he'd crossed paths with Bob and he'd taught Daryl everything he needed to know about hunting. Daryl had suspected that Bob was half insane but what he'd taught him was useful. It didn't matter so much to Daryl now with years of practice under his belt but he knew to take care of muscles as they adjusted.

"Y'need to be able to do it all again tomorrow," Daryl explained. _Yeah and like you weren't looking for an excuse to touch her_, his brain mocked. It was harder than he'd like to confess to step away from Beth.

"I'll get some food," Beth offered with a smile. Her arm brushed his as she walked past him. Such a minute touch but Daryl was still aware of the contact. Considering there was a time when Beth had gone out of her way to ensure there was always some kind of physical distance between them, it was a huge change.

Beth moved around the space like she'd lived there for years, she was obviously more comfortable in this cabin than the old one. While they ate, Beth asked him a few hundred questions about crossbow maintenance and plans for the safety of the cabin.

"Y'don't let me eat, we won't be gettin' nothing done tomorrow," Daryl said shaking his head. Sometimes there were moments when he missed Beth being so scared around him that she barely spoke.

Beth pressed her lips together but there was a gleam in her eye that told him she wasn't taking what he said to heart. Daryl was relieved when her head started to nod. She was falling asleep where she sat.

"Go to bed, Beth."

"You're not the boss of me," Beth protested sleepily.

"The hell I ain't," Daryl retorted. He'd found some sharpening tools for knives and he wanted to see if he could use it on the axe before tomorrow.

Beth rolled her eyes but she got in to one of the beds without much argument. Daryl had to admit the peace and quiet was nice. They'd shut the windows up pretty tight, so he felt pretty comfortable no one would see the soft glow of the candles. There was a tiny fireplace in the corner and if they got desperate during some of the coming nights, they could stoke that up and let it smoulder through the night. The smoke would be too much of a giveaway during the day.

With only Beth's deep breaths filling the cabin, Daryl patiently worked with the axe until he was sure the blade was at least a little bit sharper. His eyes felt heavy and he got to his feet. His eyes fell on Beth in the bed by herself. For a whole week, they'd been sharing one bed and now it was almost strange for him to go the empty one.

He was glad of the room and knowing he wouldn't wake up with Beth entwined around his body. At least he should have been. He was too tired to dwell on just how dangerous that line of thinking was.

Daryl couldn't have been asleep very long when he was jerked awake by screaming. It was disorientating and he swore when he realised it was Beth. He thought she was past the nightmares. Daryl threw the covers back and stumbled across to her, still half asleep himself. The floor of the cabin had gotten cold.

Beth was thrashing in her sleep, her eyes clenched shut. Daryl lifted her covers and got in beside the girl. He wrapped his arms around her, stopping her erratic movements. If he was more aware he'd probably think climbing into bed with the sleeping teenager was very creepy but his only thought was stopping the screams. He tucked her tight against his body and ignored his own sense of contentment. Beth stilled against him and there was silence once more. Daryl fell back asleep to the slow rhythmic beat of her heart against his chest.

**AN: I liked this chapter. I just hope it wasn't too much for the characters. Also just caught up on 3 and 4.**

***Spoilers***

**When Carol kicked the water cooler over, my household was all like, "She did it!" She definitely went too far but she's had creepy eyes since the start of the season, almost fanatical now about surviving. I'm not surprised he asked to leave actually. I legit thought killing her was on the agenda for a bit. I thought Mel just played it so damn well though. I think the biggest obstacle to Deth just got removed, for now. She'll be back. Just like the Governor, mid season final yo. But I also appreciated the show down with Daryl and Bob, hot damn that man is sexy when he's mad. It's also shown his evolution that he didn't just throw a loud temper tantrum. Also Michonne used a line I wrote in Damaged Heroes word for word. Not mentioning it to imply that it was a copy (obviously it wasn't), just think it's awesome. – "Stupid get's you dead." Boo yeah!**


	27. Chapter 27

Beth was very warm when she woke up. When she opened her eyes properly, she was surprised to discover she wasn't alone in the bed. She was lying on her back; Daryl's head was resting on her chest, his hair tickling her collar bone. His palm was pressed flat to her stomach. She could tell from the way he was breathing that he was still asleep. His breath ghosted across her skin when he exhaled.

She was effectively pinned and she couldn't have moved, even if she wanted to. Daryl's hair had fallen across his face and Beth carefully brushed it back behind his ear. It was getting long. She felt her skin begin to prickle and when she glanced at his face, she saw his sharp blue eyes were opened, flicked up to watch her face.

Beth tried not to flush. He was the one who had climbed into bed with her. Of the two of them, he had more explaining to do. Beth wanted to ignore his questioning gaze. What she wanted to do was stay in bed and run her fingers through his hair while he slept against her. But that would raise too many questions and complications.

"You had another nightmare," he murmured sleepily. Daryl had yet to pull away from her and when he spoke, his lips grazed her skin. When his soft mouth touched her body, Beth felt something low in her body tighten like there was a chord connecting all the nerves in her body. She couldn't remember having a nightmare. They had been so vivid last time. When she strained her mind she could recall brief flashes of a knife being driven into a yielding stomach and hot blood covering her own hand.

"Haven't had one for a while," Beth noted, not wanting to dwell on the man she had murdered.

Daryl blinked slowly. Beth's vantage gave her a perfect view of his eyelashes and she watched his every movement, enthralled.

"I wanna head into town today," Daryl said, clearing his throat. Just like that the mood was broken. Beth tensed, still afraid that he'd expect her to go with him. Daryl sat up in the bed. She felt his absence like a physical pain. She rubbed her temples. A person wasn't supposed to make you feel such a spectrum of sensations, were they?

Daryl saw her fear. "Don't worry, I've got it."

Beth climbed out of the bed. "What do you need in town?" Beth asked, searching for one of the bottles of water.

Daryl tracked her movements. The warmth and comfort was slowly fading and Beth was beginning to feel like his prey with his close scrutiny. Even his hair sticking up at odd angles couldn't make him any less Daryl.

"I wanna go to the library, presumin' there is one."

Beth arched an eyebrow. "The library?"

Daryl was on his feet now, searching around for weapons. "Yeah," he said witheringly. "I can read."

Beth held up her hands in a pacifying gesture. "Never said you couldn't."

He shot her a sharp look to see if she was making fun of him. He'd probably heard enough redneck related jokes to last a life time.

When he realised she was just confused, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanna see if I can find any books about makin' fuel," Daryl confessed.

"That's really smart."

"You don't have't sound so surprised," Daryl grumbled. Beth turned her back on him to hide her amused smile at Daryl's attitude. She correctly assumed that Daryl wouldn't enjoy being found adorable when he was put out.

"I also want some more rope. We're gonna need a lot."

Beth glanced at the coil of rope in the corner. She thought they had plenty but clearly Daryl envisioned encircling them in their own personal army of walkers.

"We'll go round up some more when I get back," Daryl promised.

Beth wanted to be useful but the idea of collecting more dead bodies and hacking them into ideal guards was disconcerting to Beth. She kept these misgivings to herself. She'd relinquished the notion that they were just sick people but it still felt wrong to desecrate their corpses. On the other hand, if she could somehow be used to protect her loved ones if she turned, then Beth would be happy for the opportunity.

Beth shook her head, chasing thoughts of dying out of her mind. It was a morbid past time.

"What should I do?" Beth asked, catching Daryl on the edge of the door. He looked baffled.

"Something domestic," he suggested with a shrug.

Beth bristled and it took a concerted effort not to fling something at his head. It was convenient how easily Daryl forgot that she had saved his life too. Only reminding herself that Daryl had many a rough edge and have never known what role women played in the world made her able to resist swearing at him. He wasn't intentionally chauvinistic, just kind of dumb.

Beth still glowered at his retreating back. Daryl took the car which showed exactly how much rope he intended to confiscate for their little project. She sighed and went back inside.

Much to Beth's chagrin, she did end up tidying the cabin a little bit. She sorted out the remaining food and weapons. The axe was spotless and Beth found it ironic that Daryl spent more time tending to his weapons than to himself. She didn't even think it was an apocalypse thing; more a habit built up over years of isolation and damaged self esteem.

It had taken a while for Beth to figure out that Daryl actually didn't think all that much of himself. He kept himself so well barricaded by a wall of aggression and abrasiveness. But despite everything he was capable of, there was no arrogance. Beth had met handsome boys before and they seemed to know it, communicating that knowledge with an innate swagger. Daryl had none of that. It was refreshing but mostly sad.

Beth was bored and sitting in the cabin by herself was giving her too much time with her thoughts. The search for her family was not yielding the results she had hoped for. Every lead turned out to be nothing more than a ghost of a clue. Her father was alive but where was he? Glenn had been sighted by the mysterious woman in the shop but they hadn't seen any evidence with their own eyes. And what about Maggie or Jimmy? It was enough to make Beth anxious. She went outside to get some fresh air. She could see the sluggish movement of the three walkers in the trees up ahead.

Beth scanned the environment and didn't see any unexpected threats. She touched the knife on her belt and tentatively approached their new pet walkers. They heard her or smelled her and all three moved to face her.

They regarded her with empty eyes. They didn't make any attempts to get at her, content to patiently stand there. Beth stayed well out of reach even though it was ridiculous considering their lack of arms. Daryl had been right. With no way of grabbing her or eating her, they had become docile. The smell of rotting flesh made Beth flinch. When they were all around the cabin they would completely mask the scent of the living, hopefully driving stray walkers around.

Beth thought of the rope and the axe in the cabin. Daryl hadn't expressly told her to wait for him to get back but the implication was there. His comment from earlier still rankled though.

"What do you think?" Beth asked, addressing the walker she had taken down personally. "You think I could do it myself?"

The walker made an odd moaning noise that was weakened by the lack of jaw. "You're right! He _is_ an idiot."

Beth felt butterflies in her stomach and she wondered if everyone got that before they did something potentially stupid. She wouldn't know, this was the first stupid thing she'd done.

Beth grabbed a jacket, the axe and the rope. She left a note attached to the door explaining where she'd gone. She included a not so subtle invitation for Daryl to go screw himself. Imagining his face as he read that made Beth grin. It was thrilling to be so defiant.

It wasn't very long before Beth started to see the flaws in her plan. She was kind of wandering around blindly, while Daryl eased through the woods with skill. She had no way of identifying a walker trail and she was hesitant to venture too far from the cabin. It wouldn't be so gratifying if she ended up lost and Daryl had to find her. There would be too much smugness for her to bear.

Just when Beth was beginning to feel particularly silly, she heard the dragging sounds of footsteps. Her triumph was quickly replaced with fear. She could just kill it, she thought in her head. She spotted it before it saw her and it was one lone female walker.

The walker came at her quickly but Beth used the handle of the axe to stall the creature's lunges. While the walker was focused on trying to eat Beth's face, she swept its legs out; using a move Daryl had taught her. The creature fell on its back and Beth was ready. Copying Daryl, she kicked it in the side, forcing it onto its stomach. The walker flailed its arms, trying to lever itself up.

Beth swung the axe down on the upper arm. The first swing was too high and she got the bone of the shoulder joint. Beth struck again and now there were only tendrils of skin connecting the walker to its arm. A third swing had the arm off completely. Beth was sweating and she felt a little light headed at the gruesome act.

The walker bucked underneath her and Beth staggered back. She lost her footing and landed on her back. The wind was driven out of her body and rocks were digging into her. Beth managed to keep a grip on the axe when she fell.

The walker dragged itself towards her one handed, snapping its jaws at her. They may not be sentient but there was a hateful gleam in the walker's eyes. It knew Beth had taken its arm. Beth jabbed at the creature with the axe, forcing it back.

The walker loomed over Beth, one hand on her shoulder. Beth wished she had been standing and the fear of being attacked this way was potent. She still couldn't breathe properly yet either.

Beth awkwardly swung her axe upward praying for the best. The blade sunk deep into the walker's skull. The twice dead walker slumped forward; head collided with Beth's abdomen. Beth scrambled to push the body off her and shot to her feet. Beth jumped a foot in the air when she saw Daryl leaning against a tree, crossbow loaded but hanging at his side.

He had her note in his other hand. He waved it the air. "This ain't anatomically possible."

Beth just stared at him, annoyed by his casual air. "You could have helped."

Daryl seemed to consider that option before shaking his head. "Nah, served you right."

"How long were you watching?" Beth asked, starting to feel embarrassed.

"I saw you put the axe through its skull. Then I just stood back an' enjoyed the show, while contemplatin' the logistics of your note."

Beth snatched the note out of his hand and tore it up in front of him. Daryl smirked all the while. Beth could feel blood on her face and her shirt was soaked in it.

Daryl strode past her. "C'mon, let's get this done."

Beth was following him, considering kicking him in the back, when words drifted back to her. "You can explain your note. In detail."

Beth's face burst into flames and she wished she'd been less brazen in her suggestion. She should have known Daryl would just turn it around.

They managed to find two more walkers and Daryl proved that maybe she had been a little hasty trying to do it by herself. They walked them back to the cabin and tied them up behind it on the other side of the river.

Daryl was side eying her. Beth threw her hands up in the air. "What?" she demanded.

"You need a bath," Daryl responded bluntly.

Beth spluttered at the man and realised how ridiculous she looked. She could feel walker brains and blood drying on her skin, making her shirt tacky to touch.

"You smell worse 'an I do and that's sayin' something," Daryl retorted.

"Fine, but you need one too." Beth hoped she wasn't pouting, because she felt a little childish.

Daryl smiled a crooked grin at her and Beth's heart leapt into her throat.

The sun was starting to get low again and she knew they only had maybe an hour before winter night was upon them.

"You keep your back turned until I'm in," Beth commanded Daryl.

Daryl obediently turned away; it was the one thing he hadn't fought her on today. If anything he was a little too quick to oblige. Beth knew it was ridiculous to be offended over such a small thing but she couldn't help taking it a little personally. She wasn't that hideous to look at.

Beth quickly stripped down to her underwear; the shirt clung to her skin as she removed it. It was another shirt that would have to be thrown away. She padded down to the water and dipped a toe into the water.

It was icy and Beth stayed hovering on the edge. There was no way anyone needed to be clean enough to tolerate going in that water.

"Beth?" Daryl's questioning voice rang out behind her.

She didn't answer. Her entire body had tensed from one little toe.

Beth gasped when strong arms wrapped around her. Daryl hauled her into his arms.

"Too slow."

Beth beat at his bare chest with no result. He was too strong.

Daryl waded into the water up to his knees, seemingly impervious to the liquid ice now around his body. The deeper into the river he got, the higher up on his body Beth attempted to climb. Before, she'd struggled to get away but now her arms were wound around his neck like a vice.

With a smirk Daryl said, "Don't scream." And then he ducked under the water, taking Beth with him.

**AN: Next chapter to pick straight up where we left off. They're getting more obvious now, aren't they? **


	28. Chapter 28

Daryl was thankful Beth couldn't read his mind. If she could, he would have lost all credibility. That water was sent straight from the devil. His muscles instantly tensed and it took every ounce of self control not to just drop the teenager in his arms and run back inside the cabin. His pride wouldn't let him do that.

Instead, he clutched Beth a little closer and submerged them both.

They surfaced, Beth spluttering and Daryl gasping.

"Of all the stupid things you've done, Dixon!" Beth snapped. The effect was somewhat diminished by her chattering teeth. He could still touch the bottom but Beth was having to paddle to stay afloat.

He couldn't even argue with her. It felt like he was being stabbed with glass over and over. He hastily ran his hands through his hair trying to get out all the grit and blood that had built up. Beth was doing the same thing.

After a few minutes, Daryl thought he was adjusting. Either that or his body had gone completely numb. Beth had actually dunked her head a few more times to properly clean her hair. She wouldn't have gotten in if it weren't for him, Daryl thought. He didn't demand a thank you from Beth because he was pretty sure that snarky voice that didn't let him lie to himself would rear its ugly head and remind him it was just another excuse to touch her and when she was half naked no less.

Beth got out first and Daryl determined it was an acceptable time to follow without compromising his reputation. He'd proven that he was tough and could stick out the cold water even though it was making him ache all the way down to his bones.

That was until Beth stumbled out. Her white underwear and bra were effectively transparent when soaking wet. The afternoon sun glinted off her wet body and her skin looked like white silk, smooth and flawless. The sight hit Daryl like a tonne of bricks. His entire body jerked to attention.

Beth noticed he wasn't right behind her and turned to regard him with confusion. She was unaware of what the water had done to her undergarments. Daryl knew he should do the gentlemanly thing and turn away or tell her. He did neither. His breathing sounded harsh to his own ears.

Daryl sank back into the water up to his shoulders using the swirling river to cover his reaction. Even half freezing, the sight of Beth on the shore like an angel made him respond.

"You go on ahead." Daryl gestured at the cabin a bit too enthusiastically. Beth looked at him like he'd lost his mind. She shook her head and walked back inside quickly. Daryl groaned and dived under the water, a cruel laugh ringing in his mind.

It was getting ridiculous. Just when he thought he had a handle on the Beth situation, something innocuous would happen and he'd react like a horny school boy. He was far too old to let himself be influenced like this, especially not by a teenager who was probably still a virgin.

He finally got out of the water, deciding that his body had returned to an appropriate state. Daryl opened the door and a towel was flung in his direction. He caught it easily. To his relief, Beth had gotten dressed. Her hair was hanging around her shoulders making her new shirt wet.

Determining the situation safe enough for his over active imagination, he stepped properly into the cabin and froze. The beds had been pushed together. He peeked at Beth to see if she was watching his reaction.

"You think we could have a fire tonight? It's kinda cool," Beth asked, staring at the fireplace and towelling her hair dry.

Daryl blinked at her and then looked back at the beds. She was the only person who could have done it unless the cabin was haunted by ghosts with boundary problems.

"Sure," Daryl said slowly. Beth smiled over her shoulder, still not addressing the elephant in the room. He wasn't so sure that he wasn't hallucinating now.

"Are you ok?" Beth asked and snapped him out of his mindless staring. She was really not going to say a single word about the sudden rearrangement of furniture?

"Fine," Daryl replied quickly.

Beth still looked concerned so he hastily changed and then set about lighting the fire. Beth was going through the bags he brought back from town. She wrinkled her nose at the copious amounts of rope he had procured. She held up a handful of books.

"These aren't all on fuel making."

"Looks like I ain't the only one who can read," Daryl sniped, without looking at her.

"You're hilarious," Beth shot back dryly.

He stole a look over his shoulder as the fire started to spark. "I figured there were gonna be a few long days and nights out here. Might be something in there you'll like."

"That's really considerate," Beth said, sounding a little choked up.

Daryl started to panic at the emotion evident in her tone. "They're just books!"

"Still, it was nice of you."

"It was either that or knitting."

Beth sighed. "You were doing so good until then."

Daryl blinked at her, not understanding at all what she meant.

"It's like everything you know about women is from 1950s television," Beth explained, taking a seat.

"I resent that," Daryl said, straightening up. The fire cast a glow in the room. When it took hold it would be nice and warm inside.

"Daryl, you just suggested I might like to pass the time knitting. Without irony."

Daryl bit his thumb nail. "You're right. Don't suppose I know much about girl stuff."

"Spending all this time with me, does that make you uncomfortable?" Beth asked directly.

Daryl shifted. "This conversation makes me uncomfortable," he retorted. Why did she want to ask so many personal questions all of a sudden? And why did she look so damn calm now? It wasn't like he could be honest and tell her that yes; being around her like this had him half crawling out of his skin.

"You ain't a proper girl," Daryl deflected. Nothing like an insult to throw her off the scent. Beth regarded him, dissatisfied.

"What do you want me t'say?" Daryl demanded.

"Something honest?"

Daryl glared at her. "When did we become sharin' pals?"

Beth ignored him and asked a question of her own. "You've had a proper girlfriend, right?"

Daryl could feel his face heating up. "What do you think?"

"That's sad," Beth said slowly. "You're a nice guy."

"I ain't nice," Daryl spluttered. "I grew up in a shit hole with a father that didn't have no regard for his own sons and he spent most of my childhood drunk an' beatin' on me. Merle too, when he wasn't in a jail cell. People just screw you over an' then they leave."

Beth was staring at him wide eyed and Daryl struggled to control the anger. Didn't she see that no good ever came of prying? Silence descended over the cabin. Daryl wanted to stride out the front door and not come back.

"Want something to eat?" Beth said abruptly.

"That's all you got to say?" he asked incredulously.

"I pushed too far. One day you'll tell me everything, but it doesn't have to be tonight." She spoke in a matter of fact tone. Daryl gaped at her easy assurance that eventually he would share his entire, dark life story.

Daryl sat down in the chair, deflated by the knowledge he _had_ just shared more with her than any other woman.

"Knittin' would be useful these days," he said a little petulantly, knowing he was beaten tonight.

"I don't disagree," Beth said mildly, which was a roundabout way of saying she did agree.

"'Sides regardless of whether I've had a girlfriend or not, still a heck of a lot more experienced than you." Daryl couldn't let her have the last word.

A tiny smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. "You caught me, still very much a virgin. At least it isn't contagious."

"But there is a cure."

Beth's head shot up to stare at him and Daryl could feel himself go even redder. He was just following up on her whole 'disease' analogy. Now he could fully appreciate what it sounded like he was offering. Another case of not thinking when he spoke.

"I bet we'll find Jimmy alive an' y'all can resume that fumbling teenage groping," Daryl blurted out. It was a heavy handed attempt to correct the error but Beth rolled her eyes and he narrowly avoided the danger of having a discussion about how he wasn't in the virginity taking business, even if he had thought about it one time too many.

After they had eaten, Daryl buried himself in the book on fuel making while Beth rifled through the selection of books. She settled on a western novel that looked like it had seen better days. The fire crackled invitingly and now that she wasn't asking him horrible questions it was nice just to sit in companionable silence.

When she started to yawn though, it drew Daryl's attention back to Beth. The fire had gotten low and Daryl had let it idle.

"I'm beat," she said even though Daryl hadn't asked. Daryl grunted in reply and pretended to still be absorbed by the overly dense explanation on making a car work with nothing but potatoes.

Beth rolled into the new bed. It wasn't long before her breathing was deep and even. Certain she was asleep, Daryl put away the book. He moved quietly so he wouldn't wake her up. Even though the two beds combined had created a bigger space than the tiny camp bed at the old cabin and they could sleep without having to be on top of each other, for some reason, crawling into bed with her now seemed more significant. More intentional somehow.

Even with Daryl on one side and Beth on the other, his legs still brushed hers under the covers. Daryl lay there tense, afraid to move and touch more of her.

Beth spoke in the dark. "I don't have nightmares when I sleep with you." Her voice sounded small, raw with need and fear.

"I don't have nightmares when I sleep with you," Daryl repeated, his voice husky as he admitted something he never had before. Nightmares of Merle screaming at him holding a bloody stump.

An arm slipped over his middle and Beth wiggled over so she was curled against him. Daryl laid a tentative hand on her forearm and closed his eyes. He was royally fucked.

**AN: This was a shorter chapter than most because I think it was more powerful to leave it where I did. The response to last chapter was overwhelming, you all are super incredible. **


	29. Chapter 29

"You don't have to do this, you could wait in the car," Daryl suggested.

Beth was tempted to accept that offer. She had spent too long hiding in the woods. She needed to face her fears.

"Remember that last time you left me in the car?"

Daryl's eyes darkened at the reminder. "Yeah, my shoulder still twinges."

Beth sat back in the car seat trying to collect her thoughts. She had prolonged this moment for far too long. They had plenty to occupy them at the cabin over the last week. Thirty more walkers had been tied up around the perimeter but now they were short of rope.

Daryl had mentioned it last night casually. He also wanted shovels as it turned out he hadn't been joking about wanting to dig a pits around the cabin as well. Daryl wanted to raid the suburban houses for any food that might have escaped unnoticed.

It was a risky run even for Daryl and she couldn't in good conscious let him go alone. Daryl had given her plenty of opportunities to drop out but Beth was determined. Those men had a permanent camp hours away; it was unlikely they were going to show up in Beth's tiny home town.

Beth's heart rate had slowly increased the closer they got to town. It was slamming inside her chest now they were at the hardware store. They had passed a few walkers but hadn't seen a living soul.

Daryl waited for a minute but when Beth didn't say anything he got out of the car, shaking his head. Beth watched him kill a walker that was lurking in front of the door. Beth summoned her courage and got out of the car.

"You think there's much rope left?" Beth asked.

"Probably not," Daryl replied. "Think we're gonna have to start getting creative. Look for chains, fishing wire."

Daryl had a flashlight shoved in his pocket as his eyes swept over the store.

Beth swallowed and tried to think rationally. "We could use dog leashes and collars," Beth suggested. Her voice was ragged from fear and it was taking a great effort to keep her breathing level.

Daryl grunted his agreement. There was the sound of spilling bolts and Daryl tugged the flashlight out of his pocket and clicked it on. The light landed on the decaying face of a walker. It hissed and stumbled in their direction.

Daryl hastily put the torch in his mouth and aimed his crossbow at the walker. The arrow slid through the air and exploded through the creature's skull. Without missing a beat, Daryl turned the light off and popped it back away. He stepped over the walker and continued his search, plucking the arrow free as he went. The whole exchange had taken about forty seconds.

Beth had to admire his speed and efficiency. Beth freed her own blade. The store wasn't as safe as it looked.

They found some chain that would serve. Daryl found a strong looking padlock. He waved it triumphantly in the air. "For the cabin," he explained. So far they had taken to leaving it unlocked during the day and that was dangerous.

Beth carried the chain while Daryl followed with two shovels. Beth's arms had gotten strong but she was not looking forward to the labour that would be involved in the next few days.

After they were done with the store, Daryl drove to the suburbs. They weren't extensive, most people lived on farms. He didn't need to ask for directions. He had come to know the area very well on his other foraging trips. Daryl picked a street and Beth knew it was based on a whim rather than a particular science.

Beth wasn't very familiar with this street. No one she knew well lived here. She was glad. She didn't want to be rifling through someone's belongings and have smiling photographs of people she had known and loved watching her. The first house didn't have much in the way of food.

Beth instead took some clothes and some toiletries. Maybe it was the height of vanity but Beth couldn't resist taking some body wash. She tossed it in the bag under the clothes so Daryl wouldn't see it.

Beth found him behind the elaborate entertainment system. Beth wrinkled her forehead, wondering what he could possibly want. There was a sharp pulling sound. Daryl reappeared with a handful of wires.

"For tyin' up walkers," Daryl explained.

Beth spotted some candles on the coffee table and took them as well. She also scooped up a handful of books off the bookcase.

They deposited their haul in the trunk of the car before trying the next house.

This house turned out to be better. The owner had been a woman who was into jams and preserves. There were jars of pickled vegetables and conserves.

Beth picked up one labelled cherry. "This actually looks delicious," she said. They so rarely got to eat anything that was tasty these days."I could just spoon it out and eat it here."

Daryl glanced over. "Just don't come cryin' to me when you make yourself sick."

"Fine but don't expect me to share," Beth threw back.

Daryl snorted. "Like to see y'stop me if I wanted some."

"You're the one who taught me how to fight, are you sayin' you're a terrible teacher?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, seeing right through her. "I ain't saying nothin' of the sort. But you got a long way before you can hold your own against me."

Beth had to agree. She had become far more confident but Daryl was definitely more comfortable with violence. She was wearing a number of bruises right now that proved that. She had asked Daryl not to hold back against her. He had ignored her but if this was him controlling himself then she didn't want to be on the receiving end when he wasn't restraining himself.

When they emerged from the house there were two walkers at the end of the street.

"Let's get a move on," Daryl said watching the walkers cautiously. So far they seemed unaware she and Daryl were there but that could change.

"One more house," Beth suggested.

Daryl nodded, throwing one last glance behind him. Once they were inside they noticed something strange about it but it took Beth a minute to understand why it was strange.

"All the furniture is in the hall," Beth observed quietly.

Past the piles of furniture was a basement door that was open a crack. Daryl and Beth exchanged a look. By silent, mutual agreement, they searched the rest of the house. The former owners had obviously had some kind of dog. Beth grabbed the two leashes and tried not to think about the fate of the dog. It would just make her sad.

She found Daryl staring in the hall staring at the door to the cellar.

"You're not actually thinking of going down there are you?"

Daryl cut his eyes to Beth. "There might be more cherry jam."

"There won't be," Beth said decidedly. These people did not look like they made their own condiments.

"I still want to check it out," Daryl said, ignoring Beth. He opened the door and disappeared into the space. Beth hovered before following him. She didn't want the stupid ass getting hurt. Plus she was kind of curious.

The stairs creaked under Beth's weight as she hurried to catch up with Daryl.

There was mattress and food wrappers scattered around it.

"Someone was squattin' down here," Daryl said.

"What makes you think they won't be coming back?" Beth asked nervously.

"A hunch."

That wasn't really good enough for Beth but she would admit Daryl seemed to have an uncanny sixth sense about this sort of thing.

"Awesome," Daryl randomly said and Beth jumped. He picked up a six pack of light beer from the corner of the room.

"Really?" Beth asked dryly.

"Lose the attitude an' I'll let you have one. I won't even tell on you when we meet up with your daddy."

Beth appreciated that. Not the offer to share the alcohol but the subtle way Daryl expressed his certainty that they would find her father.

Beth looked around the basement walls while Daryl wrestled his treasure into a bag. What she saw made her freeze.

"Uh, Daryl? You may wanna see this," Beth said.

Daryl appeared by her side and looked closely at the wall. There was one word scratched there.

_T-dog_.

"Well I'll be," Daryl said, sounding surprised.

"He's alive!" Beth said with a grin. She had liked T-dog. Maybe he was with her father and this is where they had been hiding.

"Guess it's true what they say 'bout his type and graffiti," Daryl said. Beth punched him in the upper arm. The sting was taken out of the comment by Daryl's smile. He was just as pleased to find this new evidence as Beth was.

Beth wanted to leave them a clue just in case Daryl was wrong and they were coming back but she didn't have a pen and she didn't want to scratch it somewhere for them to completely miss it.

Daryl put a guiding hand on her back and propelled her back up the stairs. "I got an idea."

They exited the house and those two walkers were much closer now. They spotted Daryl and Beth emerging.

"Cover me," Daryl requested and then he pulled out his large hunting knife and started carving something in the front door. One of the walkers ambled up the front path and Beth climbed down off the porch. She ducked underneath its reaching arms and came up behind the first walker. It tried to correct itself awkwardly, not sure initially if it wanted to continue on to Daryl or eat Beth. Beth stabbed it quickly in the back of the head.

She felt hands on her shoulder and spun quickly. She used the momentum of the turn to thrust the blade up under the next walker's chin. It didn't quite reach the brain so Beth had to struggle with it. She delivered a sharp kick to its knee. The walker fell forward and its own weight forced the knife the rest of the way up.

Beth wiped the knife on the grass before returning it to her belt.

Daryl had carved both their names on the door. There was no more information just in case friendly eyes weren't the only ones to see it.

"You think we could go by the farm one day?" Beth asked.

Daryl regarded her with something the closely resembled sympathy. "Sure, if you want." She could tell that he didn't think anyone would have returned there. It made Beth's heart ache to hear that.

"C'mon let's get back home. We got work t'do."

...

"That's a lot of blood," Lori said urgently.

T-dog knew there was a lot of blood. He was the only one strong enough to carry Glenn. They had risked a run on a nearby town and they had found it was home to a group of survivors who didn't take too kindly to strangers.

Glenn had taken a bullet to the leg and was struggling not to moan in pain. They had found shelter in a trailer park. T-dog laid Glenn out and Lori immediately put pressure on the wound. While they focused on stopping the bleeding, Carol climbed up through the roof hatch of the trailer to get a look at the environment. T-dog passed his gun up to her. Carol turned out to have a steady arm and good aim.

"It isn't so bad,' Glenn mumbled.

T-dog caught Lori's eye. It definitely looked bad. "Yeah man, you'll be cool," T-dog said reassuringly.

Lori ducked into the small bathroom and came back holding some bandaids and sanitiser. "This was all they had."

"We could try and find a pharmacy," Carol's disembodied voice drifted down towards them.

"No!' Glenn grunted out vehemently. "It isn't safe to go back."

"It looks like it went straight through," T-dog said, leaning closer to the wound. He was feeling a bit queasy getting that close to his friend's injury.

"Are you sure?" Lori asked.

"Hell no, I ain't sure," T-dog said quietly. "I'm guessing, same as you."

Lori's hands were slick with blood and she fumbled with the bandage.

T-dog picked up the gel hand sanitiser. "This says not for open wounds," T-dog muttered.

"Do it anyway," Glenn snapped gritting his teeth.

T-dog hesitated but then squirted some over the wound. Glenn howled and arched off the floor.

"Any walkers, Carol?" Lori called out.

"None that I can see."

Lori took off her belt and folded it over. "Bite on this," she said, putting it between Glenn's teeth.

T-dog winced and spread the sanitiser more thoroughly over the wound while Glenn bucked. It was a relief when the young man passed out. They fit some of the larger bandaids over the bullet hole and then found a sweater to wrap around Glenn's leg, binding the wound.

T-dog slumped against a cabinet. Lori was pale and shaking.

"Guess we should have listened to the crazy chick with the sword," T-dog mused. They had encountered a terse black woman a while ago and she had told them that the town was dangerous but things were getting hard. So after a few weeks they had ignored her advice and Glenn had gotten shot for their trouble.

"We can't move him," Lori noted, taking a seat next to T-dog. Her head slumped on to his shoulder and T-dog wrapped an arm around her. He'd come to think of Lori as a sister. An occasionally bossy big sister that was actually just very good at hiding her fear.

"We'll wait it out and then we'll move on," T-dog promised.

"You think we'll ever find Carl and Rick?" She asked this question every day and every day T-dog's answer was the same.

"Of course we will."

**AN: Alright, I'm not sure what the whole jam/jelly situation is in America but I couldn't write jelly, I just couldn't. I wrote ketchup a few chapters back and a little bit of my Australia soul died. (We call it tomato sauce, 'cause we are just that literal over here. See Danny Bhoy's sketch on Aussies naming things for more info). Just like I actively avoid the word mum, because I can't bring myself to use mom but I know it'll look jarring for American readers to see mum. Oh god, language. Also, I have been informed I talk about rope a lot! This is not a cool subtle reference to Boondock. I just like rope. **

**More importantly, as you can all tell, I eased back on the Deth for a chapter. Think of it as the calm before the storm. I've said too much! **


	30. Chapter 30

Daryl's mind was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed as he tried to process what he knew about the situation. They now had reasonable proof that Hershel, Glenn and T-dog had survived that night on the farm. It wasn't much to go on but it was hope. Something Daryl hadn't had nearly enough of in his life. What was worrying him was whether they were still alive. It didn't look like that all three of them were together so that led Daryl to start speculating who else was alive.

He'd guiltily realised most of his attention had been consumed by ensuring his and Beth's safety. He hadn't been searching as thoroughly as perhaps he could have. Beth hadn't raised the issue and he was wondering whether she was starting to give up on the cause a little bit. Today would reignite that interest in their fellow survivors.

Daryl, for his part, hoped that as many of them had survived as possible. Even stupid Jimmy. Just because Daryl had kissed his girlfriend, didn't mean he wanted the teenager to be dead. If anything, reuniting the pair would probably alleviate some of his problems. He shot a furtive look at Beth, who was mechanically digging, oblivious to Daryl.

One of the walkers was staring at him though. It was a bizarrely accusatory look for a corpse.

"What you lookin' at?" he hissed.

Beth glanced up. "You say something?"

Daryl straightened and rolled his neck carefully. They had been digging for what felt like hours, trying to create deep pits that would capture walkers and maybe unsuspecting thieves. Daryl's palms were raw from the wooden handles of the shovels.

"Just thinkin' we should call it a day," he lied smoothly.

Beth slumped relieved and dropped the shovel. She hoisted herself out of the hole she had created. She'd worked hard and hadn't complained. The hole was almost at her waist now. Daryl noted the changes in her body in the last few weeks. Her skin was no longer as pale as milk; it was starting to assume a golden hue from days out in the sun. Her arms were beginning to show subtle definition as the hard work and training took effect.

"I'm gonna take a swim." Beth stretched and turned, easing any cramps out of her muscles. Daryl focused on getting out of the ditch he'd created himself and pretended not to notice the sliver of stomach he saw. If she was about to get into the river, he'd see more of her.

"You should too," Beth said pointedly.

"You sayin' something?"

"Yeah, you're filthy," Beth answered, not shirking his eyes. She wasn't wrong. Daryl could smell himself and his arms were covered in dirt. He didn't particularly want to get in the cold river, especially if Beth was wearing that white underwear again. But he couldn't say any of that directly to her.

While he had stood there like an idiot thinking up good excuses, Beth had ducked back inside the cabin and emerged carrying a bottle.

"What's that?" Daryl asked with distaste.

"Soap. If you lose the attitude, I might even share." Beth arched a cheeky eyebrow in his direction, smugly quoting his own words back at him.

Daryl stole the bottle from her grip as they headed towards the river. "I'm gonna smell like flowers," he complained.

"Better than what you smell like now," Beth said under her breath as she snatched it back. When he looked at her sharply, she coughed and turned a little red.

"When did you get so comfortable givin' me shit?" Daryl grumbled.

Beth shrugged; she turned her back on him, providing the illusion of modesty. She had tugged off her shirt before Daryl had the bright idea to actually turn around and give her some privacy. He'd caught a glimpse of a black lacy bra that looked far too grown up on Beth. Any opportunity to pretend she wasn't basically an adult.

He heard a high gasp and knew Beth was in the water. Daryl pulled his own shirt off. The newly healed, pink skin of his shoulder still felt tight with movement. He waded in, swearing every five seconds as the cool water washed over his skin. He had to admit that it was also refreshing after digging around in the dirt half the day.

Beth was lathering her hair up with her new shower gel. It was bubbling and made her look like she was wearing a particularly ridiculous wig. Daryl bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at her.

He thought he was going to avoid having to use it but Beth swam up and pressed it into his hand. Daryl could have thrown the bottle down the river and that would be that but he was finding it harder and harder to say no to Beth.

Daryl grudgingly acknowledged it wasn't too awful having clean hair at the very least.

"Don't look so sour, Daryl. I won't tell anyone how pretty you smell."

Daryl reached out a hand and shoved her under the water. By the time she resurfaced, Daryl was already at the shore, cackling like a maniac.

Daryl grunted when something capitulated into his back, sending him sprawling. He rolled under his assailant, trying to get a grip on wet flesh. Beth was straddling him and using both her hands to hold his hands above his head.

"You wanna start somethin', Greene?" Daryl asked, trying to sound threatening. His voice was rough and his heart was lurching in his chest.

"Bring it," Beth challenged with a gleam in her eye. The bare skin of her legs was pressed to his ribs. Daryl wrenched his wrists free with little effort and shoved Beth to the side, intending to put her in the same position she'd had him. He was a little disconcerted when Beth wasn't there. She had darted behind him, wrapping an arm around his throat. He'd taught her that move, knowing she'd be fighting bigger, stronger opponents. It seemed ironic that she would use it against him.

Daryl also knew how to get out of it. He drove his elbow back, carefully controlling the force. He wanted Beth to loosen her grip; he wasn't trying to injure her. She grunted in his ear and Daryl reached behind him with a satisfied grin and promptly reefed her around and dropped her on her back.

Beth grimaced at the impact but Daryl didn't leave it at that. He kneeled down and caught her wrists. He was showing off by holding both of them against the ground with only one of his hands. They had done this a number of times when he'd been teaching her how to fight. They'd never done it half naked. Daryl's chest was pressed up against Beth's torso, using his size to pin her down.

Beth wasn't done just yet. She used her feet to try and kick him away. One of her little feet caught him hard in the stomach and Daryl grunted in pain. He was annoyed and proud of her. Not enough to let her win though. He used his legs to wedge hers apart and settled between her thighs.

Beth was still struggling against him but there was no way she was going anywhere. Tomorrow maybe he'd teach her how to break free, where to strike him that would force him away, but right now he was just going to selfishly enjoy his victory a little longer.

Daryl smirked down at Beth and eventually she slumped to the ground with an exasperated sigh.

"How'd you do that? I snuck up on you and everything!" She sounded disappointed.

"You did pretty good," Daryl conceded. "If you have to attack someone though, best if you just knife 'em in the back."

"You know a lot 'bout knifing people?" Beth asked, making a face.

"Don't be sassy, that might just save your life."

There was movement to his right and Daryl turned to look quickly. It was just their walker sentries, tracking the fight and the sound of it. Daryl realised he was still on top of Beth. Regardless of his own opinions on body wash, he had to admit she did smell pretty good. She also felt too damn good underneath him, with her soft skin and subtle curves.

He got up swiftly and reached a hand down to Beth, who didn't even hesitate to take it. She was unaware of what had passed through his mind.

"You got me a good one to the stomach though," Daryl pointed out, just for something to say.

Beth's forehead creased in concern. Even after all he'd taught her, and despite the fact the whole point of the exercise had been to hurt Daryl, violence would never come naturally to the sweet girl.

She pressed a palm to his stomach. "Are you alright?"

Her hand on his stomach felt like fire and pain. Daryl quickly batted it away. "Don't fuss," he said curtly. Beth's eyes widened marginally. It was the first time in a long time he'd been that blunt with her. She knew him too well now, she was able to tell the difference from when he was just insulting her without meaning any harm and when he was trying to distance her.

Daryl cleared his throat, unable to take the wounded look on her face. "Next time you'll get me."

Beth nodded but she was biting her lip. It wasn't hard enough to disguise the fine trembling. Daryl felt like an asshole but if he apologised he would have to explain why he'd lashed out.

The tension eased as the night wore on. There wasn't a lot of talking but Beth stopped looking at him like she expected him to kick her. After eating, they both buried their noses in books. Daryl was still fighting his way through the tome on fuel making. So far he'd determined he didn't have the equipment or the ingredients to pull it off.

Beth had read and gone to bed in the time it took for him to understand a chapter. It wasn't so much Daryl was stupid but he had never spent a lot of time reading. Most of the things he had learnt, he certainly hadn't learned in school.

He threw the book on the floor frustrated. The fire was dying and it was getting too dim to read anyway. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Beth was well and truly asleep, sprawled across the entire bed. Daryl shook his head at the sight in the faint light.

He would have thought about sleeping on the floor if his body wasn't protesting from a hard day of labour and if he didn't know he'd just wake up to screaming. Daryl had to lift up covers and Beth's limbs to get into the bed. He eased himself in and Beth was immediately draped over his body.

Her nose nudged his collar bone and her small hand curled into the front of his shirt.

"You still mad?" she asked quietly.

"I wasn't mad at you," he promptly whispered back, surprised she was awake. He didn't know why it was easier to be honest in the dark. It was like he could pretend it never happened later.

Her fingers dug in tighter. "Then what was it?"

Daryl paused. "It's complicated."

The silence now seemed oppressive. There was no pleasant crackle from the fire and there was an absence of deep breathing. Both of them were lying there awake. The darkness seemed to press in against them both.

Beth shifted a little against him, not relinquishing her hold on him even if his answer was dissatisfying.

Daryl looked down, trying to see more than the shimmer of blond in the black. There was a tiny bit of pressure on his chest like Beth was going to roll away. His stomach felt empty but Beth was just moving closer. He could feel blond hair slide across his arm as she moved her head.

Soft lips brushed against his. At first Daryl thought it was accidental even though his body tensed. There was another tentative flutter and Daryl realised with astonishment that Beth was trying to kiss him. Daryl's hands curled into fists and he knew he should stop her.

Instead, Daryl lowered his head, giving Beth better access. Her lips slanted against his, hot and sweet. The contact was light as if Beth was still scared she would be pushed away. Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tighter into his body. The other hand ran carefully along her cheek.

She was kissing him with such explorative innocence it made his body vibrate, but also made him mindful not to push too far. Beth was lying on top of him now. She made a sound low in her throat; it sounded like frustration.

Beth pulled back and he could feel her looking down at him. Daryl could hear how ragged his breathing was and didn't care to fix it. Her hands were fidgeting against his chest and he realised she was nervous.

"I don't know what to do," she confessed shyly.

Daryl sat up with Beth still straddling him. He ran two hands up her back. "I do."

Slowly, so not to spook her, he kissed her. He trapped her bottom lip between his and bit down gently. Beth gasped and Daryl rolled her underneath him for the second time today. Her entire body was trembling and Daryl realised his was too.

"Just tell me what you want," Daryl said huskily. Beth ran a shaky hand through her hair.

Sounding embarrassed, Beth eventually whispered. "I want you to kiss me properly."

All things considered it was a very tame request but coming from Beth it sounded dirty. This time when Daryl pressed his lips to hers, he wasn't gentle. He poured all the pent up sexual frustration and his resistance into that kiss. Beth's fingers threaded in his hair tightly.

He didn't tease her lip with his tongue this time, he didn't ask permission. He just claimed her as his own. When Beth reciprocated tentatively, it was sexy as all hell. He ground his body into hers without thinking and Beth moaned. Daryl kissed her until he was certain her lips were pink and swollen from his attention. Her body was shuddering and Daryl eventually detached himself, only to kiss the sensitive skin of her neck.

One of his hands had slid under her shirt. The skin of her belly was soft and warm. His rough hands skimmed her stomach until they rested on her ribs. Beth wrapped her legs around his hips tightly. For all that this was every shade of wrong, they fit together perfectly.

Beth's hands reached for the hem of her shirt. Daryl realised what she intended to do and sat back, taking her hands in his.

"Slow down there," he said.

"Did I do something wrong?" Beth asked, voice wavering.

"Christ, no!" Daryl said emphatically. "I just don't want you rushin' into somethin'."

There was a considering silence and Daryl wished he would see her face properly. He wasn't sure if he was explaining it right. Since he couldn't find the words, he leaned back to press a searing kiss to her lips, tilting her chin up with his fingers.

Beth sighed contentedly, hooking her arms around his neck. Daryl broke the lingering kiss and eased himself on to his back next to her, knowing if he didn't pull away now, he wouldn't be able to stop. Beth's head found its way back onto his chest.

They didn't say anything but this time the silence wasn't awkward. Daryl found himself running his thumb up and down her forearm. Eventually Beth fell asleep against him but Daryl lay awake for a long time after that, replaying the event in his head over and over.

**AN: I know some of you were beginning to doubt this would happen but here it is! I hope this was satisfactory for now. **


	31. Chapter 31

Beth woke up stretched out in a bed. She felt very warm and satisfied. She rolled over and groaned as her mind adjusted to being aware. She had the bed to herself she realised. Her hands had reached out, unconsciously searching for Daryl. It wasn't unusual for her to wake up without him. He was always the first to rise but noting his absence brought everything rushing back.

She had kissed Daryl. She'd initiated it. Her stomach went into free fall as she remembered. Beth kept her eyes shut and tried to recall every tiny detail of kissing Daryl. It wasn't like she had intended to kiss Daryl. She'd been fighting the impulse for weeks now, even though at the same time she had been manufacturing reasons for them to touch.

That was half the reason she had tackled him yesterday under the guise of practising her fighting skills. She had known that it would involve him putting his hands all over her bare skin. Beth had become half addicted to the rush of finding excuses to innocuously make their relationship more physical. But like any drug, the first hit was satiating and then withdrawals were hell.

Then in bed she had sensed Daryl looking down at her and it had been so very simple to tilt her head up. His lips were just there. She hadn't thought about his potential rejection, she was no longer capable of coherent thought or planning when it came to Daryl.

He had tensed but then to her absolute joy he had kissed her back. Holy hell, had he kissed her back.

Daryl had also been the one to stop things from going too far. Now that it was morning, she was glad. In the moment, her body had been calling the shots but now she could acknowledge she wasn't ready to take that step. Maybe one day but not just yet.

Beth experienced a pang of guilt over Jimmy but it was fleeting. She might die tomorrow and she felt a connection to Daryl. It was already stronger than anything she and Jimmy had had. It was hard to think about Jimmy when her lips were stinging from Daryl's brutal kiss. Beth hadn't expected his facial hair to be so scratchy. Just another difference that reminded Beth that Daryl was very much a grown man.

Beth didn't know what to expect when Daryl returned from whatever he was doing this early in the morning. Maybe it was just a onetime thing. It would hurt Beth to hear that but she had no regrets. She would be calm and mature about the situation.

Any intentions she had of playing it cool vanished when Daryl came back in. The shy smile that crossed her face was involuntary. Daryl had a string of dead squirrels that he carefully deposited.

He noted Beth was awake. "Hi," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Couldn't sleep?" Beth forced herself to ask casually.

"Nah," Daryl replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the far wall of the cabin. Beth tilted her head and examined the hunter. The distance between them seemed like a bad sign but Beth made herself forget this situation was normal, and think about what she knew about Daryl instead. His shoulders were tense and he looked painfully uncomfortable. His eyes darted around the cabin, looking anywhere but at Beth. He was nervous, Beth identified, maybe a little guilty. With a sigh, Beth realised she couldn't look to Daryl to take charge just because he was the older one in the room. It was going to be a case of the blind leading the blind.

"Come here," Beth said patiently, gesturing him across the room. Daryl's eyes flicked to the door and Beth knew he was thinking about bolting. She didn't take it personally.

Daryl took one hesitant step after another. It was going to take four years for him to get there at this rate.

"You scared?" she teased. Daryl scowled at her. If there was one thing Daryl responded to, that was goading. She wondered about the exact nature of his relationship with his brother, Merle. If it was that easy to dare him into doing something he didn't want to do, then Beth could just imagine the kinds of trouble he'd have gotten into over the years.

Daryl gawkily sat on the bed, still keeping space between her. Even though her heart was slamming in her chest, Beth kept her expression mild.

"I wanted to apologise," Beth said simply.

Daryl's eyes narrowed and he looked at her suspiciously. "What for?"

"I didn't really ask for your opinion on kissing you last night." Despite her best intentions Beth felt herself start to go red. Daryl was blushing as well.

Daryl shrugged. "It was fine."

"_Fine_?" Beth asked, a bit thrown by his lacklustre choice of words.

A crooked grin passed across Daryl's features. "Maybe better than fine."

Beth reached across to punch him lightly in the upper arm.

"I told you, I don't know how't talk to girls," Daryl reminded her.

"I wanted to know what you thought about repeating the whole experience?" Beth let her words hang there and then, summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, she sidled a little closer to the man. She took his hand slowly.

Daryl looked at her hand like it was a foreign object her didn't recognise. But he didn't pull away and that was enough for Beth.

Daryl cleared his throat. "Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed kissin' you." He sounded mortified. In an odd way it was comforting to see him so off balance. "Really enjoyed it. It was-"

"Fine?" Beth supplied.

The look Daryl shot her was wry. "But I just ain't sure it's a good idea."

"Why not?" Beth asked. She could already guess half his reasons but she wanted him to tell her.

"Why not?" Daryl repeated. "How long have you got?"

"Ages. The world ended, remember?"

"I'm older than you. Shit, you aren't even technically an adult!"

"Semantics," Beth dismissed. She wasn't a child; she hadn't been for a while.

"Semantics that would land me in jail if this were a normal situation," Daryl countered.

"You know I'm not a little girl," Beth said, trying to meet his gaze, refusing to back down.

"Yeah well, don't stop it from being all manner of wrong," he threw back, grumpily.

"What about Jimmy?" Daryl said triumphantly. He obviously expected her to quail at the mention of her boyfriend.

"Jimmy might be dead," Beth said and her voice broke. Regardless of what she felt about him romantically, Jimmy was a good person. "Jimmy never made me feel what you do," she said boldly.

Daryl put his face in his hands. "That's your hormones talkin'." His speech was muffled by his palms.

Beth tugged his wrists away so she could see his face. If she was fighting through her embarrassment to have an honest conversation then the least he could do was look at her.

"I'm no good for you, Beth. You think you understand what happened to me but you barely got a glimpse. We're talkin' 'bout years of damage. I don't think I can connect the way you want us to."

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Daryl!" Beth snapped, feeling exasperated. "I'm not even askin' for things to change that much. I'm suggesting we keep doing what we're doing but add kissing." The words flew out of her mouth. Not for the first time she wondered why he turned her on so much when he drove her insane too.

Daryl watched her wide eyed. He wasn't expecting her to be so blunt. His expression turned contemplative. He wanted her too, Beth could tell from the way he had kissed her last night.

"Fine but I got some rules."

Beth quirked an eyebrow. "What are they?"

Daryl held up a finger. "One, outside of here, no foolin' around. You need to keep your mind focused on what we're doin'."

"I'll try to let myself not become too distracted," Beth said dryly. She knew he was just being practical but sometimes he could just phrase things in the worst way.

Daryl ignored her tone. "And just kissing. Anythin' more will lead to complications."

This one, Beth had more reservations about. She was happy kissing Daryl but she remembered the sensations of his hand on her ribs. Such an innocent place but so full of possibilities too. A few inches up and he would have touched her where nobody's hands but her own had been. Likewise a few inches down. Her curiosity was peaked but she figured she could work Daryl down on that point.

Beth grabbed the front of Daryl's shirt and tugged him closer. His lips were near hers but she didn't close the gap. Daryl's breathing shifted automatically. Yes, in time, when she was ready, she could get him to break rule two.

With her mouth hovering over his but not quite touching, she asked, "Any more rules?"

"Anyone finds out about this, I'm telling 'em you took advantage of me!" His petulant tone was shaky and forced.

"Semantics my ass," he managed to mumble before Beth silenced him with a kiss. Every nerve ending of her body sang with satisfaction.

...

"You think we lost them?" Maggie asked.

"I think so," Jimmy answered tersely. They had narrowly avoided a new herd on a run into town. They were heading back out, winding their way through suburban streets. They wanted their trail to be winding and confusing so that this fresh group wouldn't end up on their doorstep.

Jimmy had started the car while Maggie covered them both. They had settled into an easy routine of fighting and killing. Jimmy was creative and Maggie was ferocious. It was a combination of these skills that had saved them both a number of times. They were hungry and tired but alive. Both of them had lost weight in the last few weeks. It had been a struggle for them to find food. They had had a string of bad luck and Maggie could only hope that the others had been faring better than they were. If there were any others.

They were holed up in an old stable not that far from her farm. They slept in the lofts up top with one person on guard. Even though it was impossible for walkers to reach them up there neither of them had had a full night's sleep in forever. Noises woke them up at all hours of the night and it was hard to sleep when they lived in a constant haze of anxiety.

They had gone to look at the farm a few times but as far as Maggie could tell it was still infested with walkers. A big portion had moved on, Maggie and Jimmy had only narrowly avoided them so they knew better than most, but there were still plenty clinging to the farm. The scent of human was fresher there than most places after all and that kept the walkers in close range. All their cattle were well and truly dead at this point.

They had stayed at a safe distance. The front door was open and Maggie could see walkers going in and out of her family home. It made her fists clench. She had cried that night and Jimmy had put an awkward arm around her. It was the first time she had cried since they had been on the run. She was grateful for Jimmy's self-conscious attempts to comfort her but she wanted her father or her sister.

Even though it was clear that nobody was going to be near the farm, Maggie found it strangely consoling to still be close. She went and watched even though it was futile. She was hoping she would see Patricia. If she had been turned into a walker then Maggie wanted to put her down. It was the least she could do for her friend.

Jimmy slammed on the breaks and Maggie cursed, thrown out of her thoughts and back into the present.

"What the hell?" she demanded.

Jimmy wordlessly pointed past her towards a house. Maggie shook her head, not understanding what had caused Jimmy to stop the car so abruptly. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maggie squinted and leaned against the glass.

Her heart stopped and her jaw dropped open. Carved in hasty, scrawled letters were two names: Daryl and Beth.

"She's alive," Jimmy said roughly.

Maggie didn't trust hope anymore. "Maybe that's from a long time ago."

Jimmy shook his head. "We've been down this street and that wasn't there a week ago."

"Beth's alive?" Maggie could hardly let herself believe. Her eyes filled with tears as she realised at least one member of her family had made it.

**AN: Oh my goodness, did Beth and Daryl manage to not mess things up for a bit? Wow! Yeah, bets on how long it will last?**

**Unrelated, I didn't get a chance to personally respond to everyone who reviewed last chapter. My computer is a traitorous wench. I very much appreciate those who take the time to review. Shout out to all the guests as well. You guys are cool too. **

**I am not watching the show tonight, as per usual. Please, no spoilers. Or my imagination will go on strike and there will be no more chapters until I recover. **


	32. Chapter 32

"Damnit, Beth. Pay attention!" Daryl snapped. They were both tired and irritable but while Beth was content to suffer in silence, Daryl proceeded to take it out on her.

"You almost took my damn arm off!"

Logically Beth knew that he was stressed and today had been a bad day but rationality wasn't really helping when she wanted to kick him in the shins. They had been taking down a walker to add to their collection and Beth had stumbled, nicking Daryl's bicep with her knife. It was an accident and she felt immediately guilty but it was hardly the life threatening war wound that he was making it out to be.

During a run into town earlier this morning, they had narrowly avoided a herd. They hadn't even known there was a group of walkers that big still that close by. Beth had been seconds away from getting bit when Daryl had fired an arrow into the creature's skull. They hadn't discussed how close Beth came to dying and Beth suspected that was what truly had set him off. It was touching, in an insane, frustrating kind of way.

Daryl had parked the car and snapped something about needing more camouflage before striding off into the woods. Beth had to scramble to keep up. Beth thought maybe Daryl was over reacting. In two weeks, they had dug large pits and even added sharp spikes at the bottom. They were as safe as they could be. But Daryl wasn't satisfied. They needed more dead bodies in the trees around their home. Daryl wanted it to get to the point that a person wouldn't even be able to see the cabin through the corpses.

Daryl was busy tying the chain around the walker's middle, muttering the whole time. Beth just stood back out of his way, giving him the space he clearly wanted. She wouldn't have hugged him even if she'd been brave enough to do so. Daryl had stipulated that he didn't want the new dimension in their relationship to affect their day to day lives and so far it hadn't.

Even for a few days after they had made the agreement to offer each other physical benefits nothing had happened. Their days had been so full that they had both collapsed at the end of the night, falling to sleep almost immediately.

Then three days afterwards, when Beth was starting to feel antsy but uncertain how to initiate something despite her boldness during the original conversation, Daryl had come back from hunting. He'd walked into the cabin and, without a word, had tugged her against him and kissed her soundly. His eyes were bright with success and there was a deer by the front door. Daryl had left Beth breathless, having to put a hand on the wall to steady herself, before disappearing to clean his quarry.

A few more days had passed and Beth had taken the lead. The cabin was warm but dim and Daryl had slid into bed after her. Half asleep, Beth had curled into his arms and brushed a brief kiss across his lips. Daryl's arms had tightened around her. It was chaste but it set a precedent. Now a lot of their nights were spent kissing. It was wonderful but Beth was already beginning to find Daryl's self control infuriating. So far he'd stuck to his word about keeping it simple.

Beth shot him a glare. Today was not a good day to be thinking about all the little things Daryl did that drove her crazy.

Daryl tugged the walker back towards the cabin and Beth trailed at a safe distance. Beth had grown up on a house with a lot of open communication. Her father had never discouraged them from sharing their opinions, even when they were young and silly. Somehow, she didn't think the same approach would work with Daryl.

The silence stoked the tension like a fire. Ignoring the issue wasn't going to make it magically vanish. Beth was only thankful that they had enough to occupy them. Daryl walked around and checked all their walkers' bindings. They had noticed that the first walkers they caught were becoming sluggish and that had created an interesting dilemma. How long would they stay on their feet without sustenance? Unfortunately, their trip into town had proved that there was no shortage of walking corpses to be had.

Beth prepared a meal. Daryl didn't expect her to do that just because she was the female of the pair and in fact some nights, she cleaned the weapons while he organised their dinner but tonight she didn't want him simmering in the small space of the cabin.

They ate in silence and Beth watched him warily, waiting for him to direct his temper at her but he seemed content to glower into the distance and indulge his own surliness.

The cut she was responsible for had been left unchecked, bleeding freely down his arm. Daryl hadn't looked to it and as usual his disregard for his own well being tugged at her heart. She wanted to be angry at him but it was hard. He was a product of his upbringing and that played a big part in why he was unable to express his concerns with words.

"Let me look at that," Beth offered, standing up.

"Its fine," Daryl said, with a cursory glance at the cut. Beth forced herself to bite her lip and not make a snarky comment about the way he had over reacted before.

"Wasn't asking," Beth responded evenly. Giving Daryl choices was often a very stupid thing to do. He was too good at self sabotage and he'd rather lose the arm than admit to needing help from her. If Beth was honest with herself, she didn't just want to clean that cut for practical reasons, she wanted to show him some small modicum of affection. Maybe with exposure to it, he'd stop being so mistrustful of the sentiment.

Daryl was grumbling under his breath but the lines of his shoulders betrayed him. He was unsettled. Beth sat down next to him. She put herself closer than was strictly necessary so her knees brushed his thigh.

With gentle hands she carefully wiped the cut clean.

"Ouch," Daryl snapped, accusingly. Beth ignored him.

"Y'know, I had a dog like you once."

"You're comparin' me to a dog?" Daryl asked, "Your bedside manner needs work."

Beth continued like the interruption hadn't happened. "He was a rescue dog my daddy got for us, because when I was five I wanted a dog somethin' awful."

"If he was like me, I bet you were disappointed," Daryl said dryly. His shoulders were starting to relax but he still wasn't looking at her.

"At first," Beth confessed. "He was a bit skittish around us at initially but he became part of the family after a time. But he was the most accident prone dog I ever did see. Always getting cut up. Spent a fortune on vet bills."

"Shoulda just put the thing down," Daryl mumbled.

"You don't kill your family because they're hurt, Daryl," Beth explained patiently, very certain that Daryl had never had a pet before.

"I was just remarking 'cause you always seem to be hurting yourself," Beth added.

"That's because of the company I keep," Daryl muttered but there was a tiny smirk growing on his face.

Beth feigned offense. She was happy to see the smile. "Yeah, I'm just awful," Beth said with a deadpan expression. She stuck a bandage to his bicep, pressing a little hard and making Daryl hiss and finally turn to her.

"Sorry," Beth said, "I told you I'm the worst."

"So no coddling then?" Daryl asked.

Beth lightly ruffled his hair. It was a brazenly familiar gesture. "You don't need coddling. You're tough remember."

Daryl's hand moved and then stilled. He looked conflicted, like he was trying to force himself to do something very difficult. Beth held her breath and sat patiently motionless. He reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek as he went. His hand withdrew quickly but he'd done it.

Beth could feel the path of his fingers, like he traced it in fire. She made herself breath normally.

"What about you? You alright?" Daryl asked looking down at his lap.

"Yeah, you saved me, remember?"

Daryl was uncomfortable with her pointing this out. She didn't think she'd meet a more reluctant hero in her entire life. One day, when he wasn't so tightly wound, she would suggest he make his catch phrase: _Don't mention it. Ever!_

Tired of the awkwardness and rules and barriers that were between them despite everything, Beth shifted into his lap. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as Beth unexpectedly straddled him. She didn't kiss him; instead she ran careful fingertips over his cheekbones. Daryl sat frozen under her examination.

She looped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you for saving me," Beth said softly. Daryl's hands had found her hips uncertainly.

"You're welcome." His voice was hoarse. She hugged him then and allowed some of her own misgivings and anxiety to translate in that embrace. She buried her face in his neck and tried to forget about all the awful things that she had seen and had happened. Daryl's arms wrapped around her back and his grip felt solid now. Their roles had switched and instead of her trying to help him, he was comforting her.

His hold on her was reassuring as Beth squeezed her eyes shut and she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

...

They didn't kiss that night. Beth fell asleep in his arms the minute they made it into bed and Daryl was left alone with his thoughts. He hadn't expected to feel that bolt of terror when he'd almost watched Beth get bit. He would have been sad to lose her before but now, what he got the briefest glimpse of was a much stronger, powerful emotion.

His reaction had scared himself almost as much as Beth being in danger. So maybe he over compensated by slipping back into old behaviours. He'd been mean to Beth and he'd definitely overreacted when she had gotten him with her knife. But what else was he supposed to do?

Beth handled the whole thing far better than he could have hoped to. She was patient with him, which he didn't deserve, and then she was kind to him despite his belligerent attitude.

When she had climbed into his arms, he realised what a selfish asshole he was being. This day had been just as hard on her as for him, probably harder because she'd had to deal with him on top of everything else. When Daryl felt her clinging to him, he could only clutch her back just as tightly, because anything less would be a disservice. They had kissed but this felt more intimate.

Daryl was honoured that she would even let a man like himself hold her while she fell asleep. She didn't know he had spent many an hour wondering about the whole thing. Daryl half expected her to wake up one morning and explain that it had all been a terrible mistake. Women like Beth didn't let men like Daryl into their lives permanently.

That was why he had dictated nothing more than what they had already done. He wasn't doing it to protect her; he was doing it to protect himself. Daryl wanted to, god did he want to, but it wasn't the right thing and deep down he knew that if he did, and it ended, it would be made a thousand times worse. For him.

Besides her first time should be with a nice boy, someone her own age. Someone like Jimmy. Jimmy's name had become poison in his mind as he had manifested as a symbol of everything Beth deserved but wouldn't get from Daryl.

Daryl had never been good at impulse control. He followed his gut and had a habit of not really thinking things through but he was putting every ounce of his measly self restraint to work. She was hard to resist. Beth smelt good and she was soft and warm and affectionate. Something Daryl hadn't had a lot of in his life. So he kept his hands to safe places with an iron will and forced his body not to take over and bear her into the bed. He tried to make his ears deaf to those breathy little moans that made him want to tear her clothes off.

Daryl Dixon was trying to be the one thing he absolutely wasn't. A gentleman.

...

Maggie looked down the barrel of the gun. She refused to cry. If this was the way it all ended than she would make her family proud. Jimmy was next to her, chin raised defiantly.

They had no idea they were crossing into the territory of these two men with guns when they had come seeking food. It was Maggie's fault too. She had pushed them here out of hunger and desperation.

They had tried to explain but to no avail. These men weren't the type to take chances or have pity. Two dead people meant less competition for food.

Maggie regretted so many things. That she was responsible for Jimmy's death, that she didn't get to see Glenn once more, that she'd never found her family. All these thoughts ran through her mind.

The gun shot echoed off the buildings and Maggie gasped, waiting for pain to rip through her and death to follow. She felt nothing and her mind slowly process what had happened. The arm with the gun was on the ground, severed at the last second and forcing the shot to race harmlessly by her body.

The man stared in open mouthed shock at his limb on the ground but his head followed before he could scream. His companion did get a chance to shout before a sword was driven through his chest.

Maggie slumped against Jimmy with relief.

Their saviour looked them over closely. Whatever she saw passed inspection because she turned and said, "C'mon, I have some food."

Maggie and Jimmy followed her. "Wait, what's your name?" Maggie called.

"It's not important," the woman replied.

**AN: Two Jimmy and Maggie clues in a row. It is not symbolic in any way, but look who's back. This is a bit more innocent but I think it was another step forward in terms of relationship. Also a little peek inside Daryl's head, he's still got the insecurity and the doubts.**

** Hope the latest episode was amazeballs! I still plan on waiting a week to watch both together. **


	33. Chapter 33

"No, I don't want to play I spy!"

Beth folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. She was bored, Daryl could tell. They were doing a run to a town a few hours away and in the complete opposite direction they had been kidnapped.

"Suit yourself," Beth said. Daryl had never been on a family car trip and maybe that explained his lack of interest in playing those stupid car games. Beth probably recalled the game with fond nostalgia.

She started to search in the glove compartment.

Daryl knew he shouldn't ask, he should just keep his eyes on the road but his curiosity got the better of him. "What're you looking for?"

"A CD or something. Sitting in silence might be your thing-"

"_My thing?_"

"- But it's boring for normal people."

"You're normal are you?" Daryl taunted, even though, yes, Beth was exceptionally normal.

"I think so."

"What'd you do this morning? First thing?"

There was a pause before Beth reluctantly answered. "Found a walker and cut its arms off." She sounded peevish with Daryl, like being forced to confront the realities of her life was entirely unwelcome.

Guilt warred with triumphant for a moment. Maybe he just didn't want Beth to be normal. A normal teenager wouldn't be in a car with him. If he explained that to her, she'd probably be understanding and reassuring but he'd be damned if he'd reveal any weakness or the extent of his feelings for this petite blonde.

"Yeah, proms been cancelled indefinitely," he said, doing the exact opposite and rubbing it in.

"Did you go to your prom?"

"I didn't even go to class," Daryl retorted.

Beth shook her head. "You must have gone to school at least a little bit."

Daryl resisted the urge to groan. He knew she wasn't asking innocently. This was revenge for his refusal to indulge her fantasy world even for a second. She was asking him personal questions, knowing full well how much he hated it. Ok, so there might have been genuine curiosity but Beth wasn't as naive as she was sitting there pretending to be.

"I learnt to read an' count. Satisfied?"

"Did you get picked on?" Beth asked quietly. She had some misconception that because he was a victim in his home, he was a victim elsewhere.

Daryl snorted. "Not for long. I set 'em straight quick and if that didn't work, well Merle could be a lot more persuasive than I ever was."

He thought about the times that Merle had intervened with a little revulsion. Merle had thought he was doing the right thing, protecting his baby brother but Merle had never known when enough was enough. Too often, he'd go too far. What he didn't tell Beth was that they'd both been expelled out of more schools than he cared to remember until it just didn't seem much point in going.

The teachers had recognised the signs of abuse, teachers were good at spotting that in students, but when they realised he wouldn't be saved by them, they'd quickly given up. What was the point of helping the poor kid that was being beaten within an inch of his life if there was no reward at the end?

How did he explain all that to Beth? She would just look at him with pity if she knew the entire, long, sad story.

"What 'bout you?" He asked, shifting the focus of the topic. "You were a cheerleader, I bet."

Beth wrinkled her nose. "High school was more than movie clichés. I wasn't actually a cheerleader."

"Captain of the chess club?" he asked. Daryl chanced a proper look at her face as he slowed the car to manoeuvre around a fallen tree on the road.

Beth grinned and it lit up her face. "No. My mother was the cheerleader actually."

Daryl worried that they were edging closer to dangerous territory. He didn't want a conversation which would have her crying in the passenger seat with no chance of escape for him.

"My biological mother, I mean," Beth clarified. "I only know what Maggie and my father told me though. She died when I was a baby so I don't have my own memories."

Well, shit, here they were.

"Memories aren't all they're cracked up t'be," Daryl said and was surprised by the bitterness in his own voice.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Beth swivel to face him. He could tell she was trying to imagine a world where someone didn't love their mother. It wasn't so much that he didn't love his mother but that doing so made him feel shame and guilt because she'd done nothing to earn his love.

He swallowed; Daryl could tell Beth's eyes hadn't been taken off him. "We had a complicated relationship," he told her. That was hopefully enough to get her to drop the subject.

"How so?" Beth pressed.

"She was an alcoholic for one." His voice was rough, begging Beth to let the topic lie.

"Did she know what your father did?"

"Yeah." That one word was tense and forced. "But most times she didn't even know what day it was."

"That must have been hard," Beth said carefully.

Daryl laughed humourlessly. "That was my future, if the whole world hadn't ended."

"No, it wouldn't have been," Beth said sharply. She had been speaking to him like he was a wary animal but now she was defiant.

"You don't know the things I've done with my life," Daryl argued.

"I don't know everything about you, that's true, but you would never hit an innocent, defenceless person. You wouldn't stand by while someone you loved suffered. You deserved better and you are a better person!"

Daryl ran a hand through his hair. He had never heard anyone speak so passionately in favour of his personality.

"I ain't some saint, Beth."

This time Beth quirked an eyebrow. "I know that! But you're also a good man."

Daryl opened his mouth, maybe to argue but Beth cut him off. "Enough. No more talking if you're gonna be ridiculous!"

Her face was stern enough that it made Daryl grin. "Sorry," he said ruefully.

"Yeah, well, you are kinda dumb!" she sniffed.

"I won't argue with anything you say again," he offered as penance.

Beth struggled to not smile and maintain the disapproving countenance. "You stick to that for a day and I'll be impressed."

"If I can't, I'll give you one of those beers we found when we get back to the cabin."

"Oh joy," Beth said dryly, not overly impressed with the prize but willing to play along.

When Daryl pulled the car into a deserted parking lot of a large Wal-Mart, Beth looked apprehensive. If Daryl had to hazard a guess he would say she was remembering the last time they ventured into a store like this.

"We'll be fine," Daryl promised.

Beth didn't answer. Her hand kept hovering over the handle of her knife. They went inside and were pleasantly surprised the back-up generator had kept the lights on.

They needed more warm clothes and any canned foods that would last throughout the winter. Beth picked up a sweater with fuzzy baubles on it. She looked at it critically before whispering, "Y'know, I think you'd look really good in that. You should wear it."

Daryl looked at the hideous thing with open distaste. "You hit your head recently? The only way 'm wearin' that is if I'm dead an' someone stuffed my cold, lifeless limbs into it."

Beth shot him a triumphant grin as she threw the jumper at his face. "You owe me a beer."

Daryl glared at her witheringly. "We're workin', doesn't count!"

Beth had disappeared into the racks of clothing but he saw a hand being held aloft with two fingers. "Two beers," she called.

Daryl's snarky response was cut off when Beth shouted. Daryl whipped his crossbow up and ran to the girl. She was on the ground wrestling a walker away from her face. Her right hand groped at her belt before latching on to the handle of her knife. She worked it free and drove it up into the walker's skull. Daryl grabbed the back of the walker's shirt and jerked the body away from Beth.

She pushed herself to her feet. Her face was calm for someone who had narrowly avoided getting eaten. Daryl couldn't speak of his own state. His stomach felt tight and he was reminded sharply of Beth almost getting killed not so very long ago. He wondered if she'd get suspicious if he started hand cuffing her to the cabin when he went on runs.

Without thinking, his hand cupped her cheek, making her look at him properly. "It get you?" Daryl asked urgently. Beth glanced down, only a light speckling of blood was on her shirt.

"No, I'm fine." Her eyebrows drew together, obviously perplexed at his concern.

Daryl turned around sharply. "C'mon, we have more things to get."

...

Finding cars was easy, Andrea realised, but finding fuel was becoming increasingly difficult. They were walking again, trying to find some kind of shelter for the night. Carl was dead on his feet, leaning heavily into his father. Hershel was starting to lag behind too. Night was falling; they'd have to find a place to hole up in soon.

Andrea was beginning to think that she was the only one not in denial. Every other member of their little group had a tie to this area that stopped them from moving on. Hershel had his two daughters, and Rick and Carl had Lori. Even though it was becoming increasingly unlikely they would ever turn up but becoming even more dangerous to stay, they still persisted to linger in the area.

She couldn't bring it up with Rick or Hershel because they're refuse point blank to leave the area, even if all they had was one written name and one glimpse to imply that Hershel's girls were still alive and nothing at all that would tell them that Lori was alive.

Carl stumbled and Rick hurried to catch the boy. Andrea had been leading the way but she halted, watching with concern. Rick looked at Hershel worriedly.

"He's dehydrated and exhausted," Hershel explained tiredly, as he examined the boy.

"We all are," Andrea interjected.

"We can't just stop here," Rick said sounding panicked. Andrea agreed with the man. She didn't want to be caught out in the woods after dark with no walls. She wasn't like Daryl, more comfortable out in the wilderness than he was with people. His survival was the only thing Andrea would put money on these days. Rick and Hershel had been leaving carved letters and heavy foot prints were they could. They had no way of knowing if Daryl was in the vicinity but if he was he'd spot the tracks.

Andrea wouldn't be surprised if he'd taken off. Daryl wasn't all bad, she had realised back on the farm, but he was the type to put living first and emotions second. If he'd bothered to keep Beth around that would be a miracle in of itself.

"I'll go on ahead," Andrea offered. "Let Carl have a rest."

Rick didn't want to let her go off by herself, he was a true southern gentleman in that sense, but being a father was a stronger instinct. He nodded once and started helping Carl sip some water from what little they had left.

Andrea started walking; taking careful note of the path she took. She was starting to feel desperate. She couldn't go too far for fear of never being reunited with the others. Andrea was surprised when her travels took her to a road. She didn't know they had come that far. She crossed it quickly and hid herself in the trees on the other side. She didn't trust roads these days.

After maybe ten minutes of walking, Andrea was just about to give up. A whim made her crest the hill and what she saw made her mouth drop open in shock. Below her was a large prison. She covered her open mouth with one hand. Then she turned and began running back the way she had come.

**AN: Obviously their physical relationship is taking a while to truly find its feet but I hope I'm conveying the deepening of their emotional one (I haven't forgotten the physical side, don't worry). **

**Side note, I'm going on holiday so I won't have another chance to update until next Tuesday. It's going to be weird but please forgive me. I'll be watching both new episodes then too. **


End file.

Walking Dead, Romance