In the moment, when it all goes wrong, you never really think hard about consequences of your actions. You just do. Whether or not you come out on top, or come out just surviving, it doesn't matter. It sure didn't matter to Beth whether or not she was hurt in the process of the struggle, or to Daryl if he got his arm twisted. They just fought to survive against the attack.
Beth acted with tenacious stubbornness. Never once did she let the man on top of her get enough grasp to hold her down. You would of never guessed the amount of her own strength until she was but one moment away from losing, when she would find the will to push the man off with her legs. In just one second she glanced to her companion who was in his own battle, trying to fend off the man who sought to kill him.
It was simple. This was no random attack to gather their supplies. The two men meant to kidnap Beth and keep her for themselves. It didn't take long for either of them to figure this out. From the onset of the attack, the men gave Beth the chance to hand herself over willingly and she wouldn't be harmed. But they never gave Daryl the chance before they jumped. And Beth would never go down without a fight. And this man had no intentions of waiting until later to commit his crime.
Beth and Daryl fumbled though an abandoned cabin now. Their bruises already began to swell and form dark marks where they would undoubtedly show even more within a day. They looked for food first. That was always their goal. Hunger was never far away.
It didn't take Daryl long to notice that only he was really involved in the search. Beth made her way around the small cottage once or twice, but never once did her search seem aimed as his did. It was but a single room with an open loft above. They hardly had to glance around to know it was completely cleared out. Whoever owned the little cabin probably used it for when they were out hunting. Both the kitchen, bathroom and seating area were in the same area as one another.
Beth just stood there, not really sure what to do next. Daryl ignored her, and knelt below to a cupboard with it's door hanging on one hinge.
"Daryl, I just want a bath." How long it had been since they showered? Far too long by the appearance of dirt caked on both their skin, shoved deep in their nails.
Daryl pulled out a single can of baked beans from deep within the cupboard. He sighed as he tossed the expired beans in his hands. It would hardly feed the two of them, but it would have to do. He began to forage through the drawers for a can opener.
"Daryl. Please." She stood her ground behind him, staring her wide eyes into the back of his head. "I just need help with water."
"The pump is probably all dried out."
"I'll go check-"
"No. Stay here." He slammed the can down, and without glancing her way he picked up his cross bow and started towards the door.
Ten minutes later, Beth stood holding the door open for him as he carried bucket after bucket into the house. Luckily the pump was but fifteen feet from the door, and their view into the woods was anything but limited allowing Beth to stand guard and help him at the same time.
Several minutes later, the bath was half full which was more than enough for the time being. Daryl did one last load of water for the two of them to drink, before sealing the door with a broom between the handle and wall. This way no one could open the door from the outside. Today they learned that it wasn't just them and the walkers in the woods.
People much sinister were left in the world, among the weak and the strong who survived.
Beth had never been so close to a vicious attack in her life. You could count the prison being destroyed as an attack, but never had she been physically trying to fend someone off who only had a goal to rip her open from the inside. She was a lot stronger than most gave her credit for, but she wasn't exactly the one to come on top in the long-run against a grown adult.
The man had finally managed to pull her pants around her ankles by the time he held her wrists down against the ground. He lay on top of her back- his intentions pressed against her back. He grunted words into her ears of his plans. But before he could commit those horrible things, he had received an arrow straight through his neck. Blood splattered across Beth's face and drenched her hair. In her shock she just lay there shuddering, she couldn't help but feel the warm liquid drench down her shoulders and he slumped on top of her. She sobbed as Daryl lifted her off the ground. She was lucky that the person she traveled with would never allow a friend of his to receive harm if he could help it.
She shrinkingly pulled her pants back up as she looked to the other man who had been struggling with Daryl. No obvious marks were left on his body meaning Daryl had either choked him, or took him out in some lethal blow which she had seen on movies before. She didn't take the trouble to ask. They both grabbed their scattered supplies and left.
Daryl guided her by the arm through the trees, constantly looking for walkers in the trees beyond them. It was quickly turning to dusk, and they had little time to find a safe place or they would need to pull an all nighter.
But luck happened to be on their side this time.
By the time they had found the cabin, Beth's tears had dried as her inner self protected her from feeling anything beyond in the moment –which was survival.
"I'll just go up there for up there for now-" Daryl had begun to say before she stopped him.
"Please stay. You don't have to look –I'll get in first."
Daryl looked uncomfortable as he refused to look into her eyes.
"I just don't want to be alone anymore." Tears threatened her eyes. "I miss Maggie. I miss Daddy." Her hand briskly wiped a single tear that escaped down her cheek. "I don't want to be alone."
Daryl sighed. "Fine. Let me know when you're in."
She nodded, then turned around and added into the water some abandoned soap left along the ledge of the tub. The water was just below room temperature –one of the quirks about being in a humid region was the water was never far from warm.
She carefully stripped her bloody clothes from her sore body. Between constantly being on the run with little rest plus fighting the men, she felt like someone had taken a bat to her muscles. Her bones stuck out more than they had ever in her life. But for never eating much, she was fairing better than one would expect. Daryl had managed to supply numerous fatty and high calorie meals which aided them in their daily activity.
Once in, the water barely went below her ribs. It was better than hoped for though. She wrapped her arms around her knees and sighed the first breath of relief in days. Looking over at Daryl, he stood with his back to her rummaging through some drawers of the previous owners clothes.
"You can look now."
He pretended to find interest for another minute, before slowly turning around, never really allowing himself to look directly at her. He was very respectful for her privacy –though she wished he would accept that even if he did see her, it didn't really matter. Of all the horrible images to see outside, seeing a naked human being was one of the most innocent things a persons eyes could find anymore.
They developed a surprising bond with one another since the time he helped get her drunk. Their bond was anything but romantic. They felt affectionate and allowed themselves to care for one another, but it was in a manner that spoke on levels of a deep friendship. One might say that they developed a sort of "sibling" affection, but it wouldn't help to put any labels on what they had. It was survival with allowing themselves to open up to one another.
Daryl's eyes couldn't help but notice the blood that was smeared across her back. He tried not to think about what just happened –that he almost couldn't protect her. Something that scared him most. She, Rick, Michonne, Glenn and everyone else, were the closest people he had to family. Like Hershel, it would deeply affect him if anything happened. And now that it was just he and her, there was no chance he would allow something happen to her if he could help it.
Daryl at first hesitated, but then finally decided that he couldn't ignore the blood any longer. "Here. There's blood on your back." He handed her a wash cloth from nearby the tub.
"Oh, thank you." He placed the cloth in her hand before turning away so she could dampen it with a free hand which would undoubtedly expose part of her body. "Actually, do you mind?"
Daryl kept his back to her, knowing what she was asking.
"I mean, I understand if you don't want to. Sorry. I just am used to living with Maggie and my mom. I guess it wasn't weird to see each other taking baths. I sort of forget that not everyone is used to that with their family."
He sighed, before turning around and taking the cloth from her. He knew that she would have a hard time removing all the blood, and he hated to let the filth of that man stay behind. He sat on the ledge of the tub behind her and squeezed the water onto her shoulders.
"Thank you."
"It's no big deal," he grunted.
"Well, thank you for earlier then."
He rubbed the blood from her back, adding more water where needed. "You know, you fight like a bad ass."
She winced when he went over the bruise forming on her mid back where the mans knee had pressed her to the ground.
"Sorry."
"It's ok. It's just pain."
"Yeah well, those sick motherfuckers had no right to give it to you to deal with. Them bastards got what was comin' to them."
"Makes you wonder if they were like that before the world got this bad."
"More than likely."
Daryl finished with the last spot of blood before handing her the cloth over her shoulder.
"Thanks." She played with the cloth between her fingers. "You're a good friend."
"Well –I guess I ain't got lots of those left anymore."
"Me either. But I try not to think about it because it makes me sad."
"Well, what can ya' do?"
"Make sure I don't lose the ones I have now."
Daryl looked down over her shoulder to her face which rested on her knees. "I won't go anywhere for as long as I can."
"I know. You never have given up on us."