A/N: This is the first thing I have ever written and published for people to see, so please be gentle in your reviews. I do not own any Walking Dead characters/events/etc.
This is Chapter 7 in a round-robin story written by 11 different writers. You can find the complete story under the author name: CommunityStory.
I am currently writing another Bethyl story that will be posted probably next week!
Enjoy and please review!
/
The rest of the day passed in a haze. They had found Otis closed in an upstairs bedroom, snarling, already turned into one of the monsters. It looked like he had been bitten and went upstairs to lie down. Hershel seemed to be in shock, he was still mumbling about a cure even though his family members lay on the hardwood floor with bullets in their skulls. Merle was sitting out on the porch, lost in his own thoughts, but Daryl was too concerned with the wellbeing of the two Greene girls to be worried about Merle right now. Maggie seemed flustered, flitting from room to room like she kept forgetting what she was doing, but she was holding up as she tried to coax her father upstairs to get some rest.
After Beth cried herself hoarse in Daryl's arms, she went straight into the kitchen and began fixing a meal for everyone. His lips turned up slightly at the corners as he watched her in the kitchen. It smelt amazing in there and he was in awe that she was thinking about taking care of everyone else after watching half of her family die mere hours ago.
Daryl got Merle to help him move the bodies out of the house, covering them in extra sheets he had grabbed from a closet in the hallway. He found a shovel in the barn and began digging four graves under a large tree. He didn't know what else he could do to help contribute to the Greene family right now so he just continued to dig until his hands were blistered and bloodied.
Beth came outside and sat softly in the grass next to him. He stopped digging and looked over at her.
That was a mistake.
Her face was hauntingly beautiful. She seemed to have aged several years since this morning, no longer a girl but a woman. Blonde hair was spilling out of the bun on top of her head, her big blue eyes were slightly red and puffy but they were filled with gratitude.
"Thanks for doin' this… and for earlier…" she said sincerely.
He just shrugged, Daryl couldn't remember a time when he had comforted anyone like that and it was completely foreign to him.
Just then her eyes dropped to his bloody hands and she gasped.
"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.
She reached out and grabbed Daryl's hand, her touch was tender and she pulled a small towel out of her apron and wiped the blood carefully from his raw hands. The contrast between their hands was startling, hers were creamy and small, and his were dirty and calloused. Beth was so close to him now that he could smell her hair, vanilla and peaches. It overwhelmed his senses and his head swam like he was intoxicated.
Gruffly, he pulled his hands back out of hers. He was digging a grave for her mother, he should not be thinking about how good she smelt. What the hell was wrong with him?
She looked hurt for a just a moment.
"Dinner is ready, you should come in and wash up," she said glumly as she turned and walked back towards the house.
Dinner was a subdued affair, everyone just chewed in silence. Even Merle wasn't making any inappropriate commentary, which was abnormal for him.
Finally, Maggie broke the silence.
"We've gotta go into town to get some more supplies. We don't know how long this virus will last so we should stock up on food and ammo so we can wait it out here."
"I hate to break it to ya girlie but this ain't a flu, we ain't just gonna get a vaccine—" Merle quipped but Daryl kicked him under the table. Daryl agreed with him, remembering the decaying corpse that had to be shot 4 times before it stopped moving. He didn't think this was something that there would be a cure for but he also didn't want to take away their last shred of hope.
"That's a good idea, Maggie" Beth said, looking happy that there was a plan forming.
"I will take the truck into town tomorrow. One of you boys will come with me?" Hershel said, finally snapping out of his daze.
"My buddy owns that gun shop on 3rd street. I know where he keeps all the keys so I can get us in and out quicker than a junkie takin' his first bump in the mornin'." Merle responded.
Maggie rolled her eyes at him but nodded. After seeing the walking corpses she knew they would need as many bullets as they could get.
"I'm coming too, Daddy. Don't know what we'll find out there…" Maggie's voice trailed off and Daryl knew that she was remembering her brother's reanimated form as he tore into her stepmother's flesh.
"Why don't we all go?" suggested Beth, not wanting to be separated from the remaining two members of her family.
Daryl frowned; he didn't like to think of this angelic girl out there with those monsters or in the city where Martial Law was in effect.
Both Hershel and Maggie shook their heads adamantly.
"All five of us won't fit in the car, Bethy…" said Maggie tentatively. Daryl knew that this was just an excuse, one to appease Beth without hurting her feelings, but he agreed with their decision to leave Beth behind.
Looking at Beth's face, he could tell she knew that they didn't think she was tough enough to go on the run into town. But she also knew it was a waste of time to try to argue with her father and Maggie—all the Greenes were stubborn. She looked defeated as she nodded.
"Daryl, you'll stay with her on the farm?" Daryl knew that Hershel did not ask this question lightly. It was a simple question but the old man's serious face displayed the significance behind it. Hershel was asking if Daryl would protect and care for his youngest daughter for the second time since they met.
Daryl nodded, not trusting his voice to work properly under the weight of this new responsibility.
No one had ever depended on him or trusted him like this. Most people learned his last name and immediately wrote him off as bad news or just looked his ragged appearance and assumed he was a worthless redneck. And until the Greene family had showed this faith in him… Daryl had believed he was worthless too.
They had a small ceremony outside that night. Hershel read bible passages over the four graves as Maggie and Beth clung to each other. At one point, Beth reached out and grabbed his hand for just a moment. Daryl felt himself freeze, he was not used to this kind of intimate gesture. She quickly dropped it before everyone went into the house to go to bed—Daryl in Shawn's room and Merle in the guest room.
The next morning Merle, Hershel and Maggie piled into the blue pickup truck, each with a gun in hand, and drove off to town. Beth had hugged each of them, even an awkward side-hug for Merle, but she didn't say goodbye.
"I hate goodbyes," Beth said watching the truck disappear into the tree line.
"Me too," he said gruffly, and Daryl had an overwhelming urge to hug her, but he suppressed it. He was there to protect her, not to find excuses to embrace her.
They tried to busy themselves in the house that morning. Beth did laundry and cooked them lunch. Daryl tried to get more information about the outbreak—but all the TV channels were down, the phone lines were busy and the radio only emitted static.
The archer and the young woman sat on the porch, eating lunch in a comfortable silence. He liked that Beth didn't feel the need to constantly fill the silences with idle chatter.
Suddenly, she set her half-eaten plate of food down and stood up, looking down at him with a determined look in her blue eyes.
"You need to teach me how to fight, how to defend myself and how to really use a gun," she seemed to realize how demanding she was being and she blushed scarlet. "I know they think I'm weak, that's why they wouldn't let me go on the run. I'm scared… and I don't want to be defenseless. Please, Daryl."
His resolve faltered when she sighed his name in the softest, sweetest voice.
"Alright, girl. No need to beg, I'll teach ya." Daryl joked, shaking his head to try and clear it.
She jumped up and headed out into the grassy patch behind their house.
"Right now?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"No, when pigs fly," her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He fought the smile playing on his lips as he set his own plate down and sauntered over to where she stood on the grass. Daryl didn't know how to teach someone to fight, he never really learned, it was just something he always knew how to do. He decided he would start with teaching her to throw a punch. He demonstrated it, told her how to hold her wrist and make sure her thumb was always on the outside of her fist. When she threw a punch it was clumsy and it only came from her arm.
"You gotta put your whole body behind it or you won't have enough power to hurt anyone," he chuckled slightly at how endearing she was when she was trying to be ferocious, like a kitten trying to roar.
He immediately felt guilty for thinking this—he needed to be focusing on teaching her, not thinking about how cute she was or much he wanted to brush her soft blonde hair back out of her face where it had fallen from her ponytail.
She tried a few more times, punching at his hands that he held up as targets, but the punches were uncoordinated and didn't even jostle him.
"Why don't you show me instead of just standin' there laughin' at me," she looked exasperated.
Daryl walked around behind her and gently grabbed her wrists, holding them up at her face in a fighting stance. The back of her body was pulled flush against his chest and his heart began pounding so hard he thought it would bruise the inside of his ribcage. Beth was so close that his head began to swim again, his nose filled with the sweet smell of vanilla and peaches again, and all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms like that until the sun came back up. Daryl glanced down at the side of her face and he could see a faint blush creeping over her cheeks. He wondered if she was equally affected by his proximity.
He mentally shook these thoughts away and went back teaching her how to put her whole body behind her swing. As soon as Beth got the idea, he immediately released her, not trusting himself near the little blonde for a second longer. Without Beth pressed against him his breathing steadied, but he felt empty, like he was suddenly missing a vital organ.
The day went on and he tried to teach her everything he could, keeping his crossbow nearby in the grass in case one anyone, or anything, wandered up to the house. He showed her how to get out of a chokehold, how to disassemble and reassemble a gun and some other basic self-defense moves. Each time her hands brushed his or they got intimately close when grappling, Daryl felt his breathing hitch in his chest. He felt like a damn teenager, getting distracted by a girl.
The sun finally set, sinking beneath the horizon and they stopped their lessons. Daryl noticed that Beth kept glancing down the road, where the blue truck had disappeared that morning. Her glances had gotten more frequent and more worried throughout the day.
"Com' on. Let's go inside and get somethin' to eat."
He placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her back to the house. She was still distracted by the absence of her sister and father and he wished that he knew what to do to make her feel better.
"Ya did good today and you'll get better. I'll keep trainin' ya… if ya want," he said as they walked into the kitchen.
She beamed up at him, her blue eyes sparkling.
"I'd like that," she replied.
Just as they sat down at the table to eat, they saw headlights shining through the yard.
"They're back!" she squealed, jumping so quickly from her chair that it toppled over.
Daryl grabbed his crossbow and followed her outside.
He saw the blue truck and he let out a sigh of relief. He could tell that the back was full of boxes of food and pallets of water bottles.
But that's when two other cars came into view behind them.