Just a little one-shot to fix things right back at the beginning when things went pear shaped. Picks up after that conversation in the funeral home, you know the one.
Beth sat at the kitchen table after Daryl left with a handful of food to 'give that mutt one more chance.'
The last few moments played over and over in her head, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of what just happened. First, there was Daryl's out of character suggestion that this place could be OK, followed by his shy mumbles and awkward shrugs, and then his eyes.
Oh, his eyes!
The way they had locked on hers as though for once he wanted her to really see him. What did it mean? And what did her 'Oh' mean? It wasn't what she meant to say, but in her defense she had been surprised. Their conversation; both what was said and what wasn't; had thrown her for a loop and the first thing to go through her mind had tumbled out her mouth. She rolled her eyes at her lack of eloquence. They had been getting so close lately, and now he would probably think she was either an idiot, or pushing him away. Would it have really been so hard to smile and let him know that she felt the same way?
But no, she said 'Oh'. Why did she have to say that? More importantly, what did he think it meant? Beth tapped her pen on the page and wished that damn dog hadn't picked that exact moment to come visiting.
"BETH!...BETH!"
His panicked voice had her out of the chair and grabbing for his crossbow immediately. She ran to the entry as fast as she could on her injured ankle, and what she saw as she rounded the corner froze her to the spot. Daryl was pushing against the front door, using his weight and his strength to hold it closed while walkers tried to force their way in. It was his eyes that really scared her though, the way they were open wide in terror in a way she had never seen from him before. Beth tossed him the crossbow. It was heavy and awkward to throw but he caught it neatly in one hand. "Run!" He told her, pointing back towards the kitchen. "Run!"
But she didn't.
Instead she took a second to look around the hallway. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon, but against the wall to the left of the door there was a small wooden dresser, and right beside it was a wall mounted radiator.
"Hold on!" She shouted to Daryl as she put her shoulder to the dresser and shoved. It was solid but not too heavy and with a little effort it slide easily across the smooth wooden floor. She pushed one edge up against the door, and wedged a corner into the radiator in such a way that the door couldn't be pushed open any further.
There was still a gap though, and several arms reached through, their fingers grasping and stretching towards the warm bodies inside. Beth pulled her hunting knife from her belt with determination and thrust the blade through the closest temple. The walker fell, draped over the dresser while another appeared behind it. She stabbed that one too, and then the next one that took its place. They piled up over the first, effectively blocking the gap from the walkers behind.
Daryl lifted his shoulder from the door tentatively, waiting to see if Beth's barricade would hold. There were more walkers outside, still bumping against the door, their fingers scraping against the glass. They moaned and groaned and shuffled about on the porch, but the dresser didn't move at all.
He stood up straighter, his crossbow hanging by his side. When he could finally take his eyes off the door he turned to Beth, who was calmly wiping her knife on the shirt of a now very dead walker. She smiled at him then in her usual sweet way, as though nothing extraordinary had just happened.
"I think that'll hold for now. Maybe the others will wander off?"
Daryl knew he probably looked like an idiot, but he couldn't help the look on his face. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised and his mouth hung opened a little in awe. He had been watching her becoming stronger, both physically and emotionally, but what she had just done was completely badass, and he couldn't help but be a little turned on. By ignoring him she may just have saved them both, who knows what would have happened if she had run like he told her to.
Beth took a step in his direction, and then another until she was standing right in front of him, the toes of their boots practically touching. Her eyes met his and he found he couldn't look away. She had a splatter of blood across one cheek, and as he reached up to wipe it off with his thumb her smile grew even wider and more radiant.
"I didn't get a chance to say that I think your right, Daryl. I think we could be happy here, and I think you're good too."
Her small hand came up to rest gently against the leather of his vest.
"Now, shall we go back in the kitchen and finish our redneck brunch?"
Ok, so it may not be completely realistic, but hey it could happen!