Author's note: I was feeling kind of morbid, kind of curiouse. This is the result of too many zombie movies and too much soda combined in one day. This is a canon divergence AU, in which Beth wasn't taken from the funeral home, and Daryl and she, remained together.

Un-betad.

We'll Be Good

By Iluminos

Hunger, it was all that mattered before the world went to shit, and it was all that mattered now. Hunger for power, hunger for money, hunger for company, hunger for more. It was always about having more than what you had. Even now, it was all about who had more weapons, who had more food, who had more people in their groups, who killed more Walkers.

For me, less was more. That's what I'd learn to believe. That's what I wanted to believe, after all, the less people you had to care for, the less pain you would suffer once they were gone. That's what Daryl and I had learned. It had been almost two years now, after the fall of the prison, two years since we'd been stuck together.

I'm not sure how it happened, but amid the tension, the dispair and loneliness we had gone through for months, a flame was ignited. It was fed further after the funeral house and my almost kidnapping. It must have been out of necessity, humans were social beings by nature, even that principle applied to Daryl Dixon. I wasn't so innocent to believe that we were meant to be. No, I was sure we would've continued an existance without much more than an occasional greeting and curt kinship from being part of the same group, had we not been separated from the rest.

Such had been the situation, that we had to make do with what we had, the forest, the Walkers and eachother. Desparate for something to keep living for, we turned to eachother. We needed the contact, savagely, like the gulp of air you take when you've been underwater for too long and you barely make it to the surface. It was perfect for a while, we were good.

The less we had, the better. Less was more.

Daryl hunted for food, he set traps and scouted the perimeter everywhere we went. I tended to his wounds despite his irritation and cooked whatever he brought back with him. I knew I wasn't of much help, even after his atempts at teaching me self-defence and tracking, but I had gotten better, I had changed. I accepted my limitations and my abilities. He gave me his company, his warmth, his strenght. I gave him all I could, my knowledge in healing, my cooking, my faith, my voice, my heart. I gave myself to him.

I had fallen for him the moment he'd unintentionally bared his soul to me at the moonshine shack, but the feeling had grown inmensely, I needed him badly, and he needed me. And we succumbed to the hunger, the ever persisting hunger of the world. We took each other in the woods like wild animals, we made love whenever we could manage to find a safe place with a bed for the night, we'd eat eachother's mouth senselessly, carelessly. We were good.

We had gotten so used to the life on the run and with the constant chase of death, that we'd forgotten about everything else, about how things were supposed to be before all of this mess happened. We had forgotten about being more careful, and we messed up badly. The one thing that we had both suffered from, we were about to face again. A child was unlikely to survive much time in this world, Judith had proven as much, and both Daryl and I still mourned the baby girl we had lost to the Governor's attack. The bloodied baby seat was forever etched into our minds.

Despite the initial shock and denial, we had quietly agreed not to take its life. We only had eachother, but soon we wouldn't. We were going to be all that poor child had in this rotting world. We would die protecting it.

The months had gone by slowly, the life growing inside me getting more impatient with each passing day, and I weaker from it. I had lost too much weight, despite Daryl's effort to keep hunting every chance he got, and the meager provitions we managed to scavange in the random towns we came across. Still, we kept going, no destination in mind, but we were good.

I missed my sister, Rick, Carol, everyone. We had looked for them none stop for months, until eventually we'd been chased out of Georgia by the persisting hoards of walkers and the ever dwindling resources. I liked to think they had made it, that they had regrouped and found sanctuary elsewhere. Daryl had quietly whispered into my ear on one particularly rough night, that we had to let them go. And so we did.

Less was enough, as selsfish as it seemed.

A low moan brought me out of my thoughts, and I tiredly closed my eyes. "I know, I know. Hold on a little longer," I whispered hoarsly, my vocal chords damaged from all the screaming and crying I had done. I hadn't really moved from my spot in days, since I'd lost him. I had no energy to reach for the rotting piece of meat at the other side of the room, so I sighed and cuddled further into the hard chest below me, the rusty cot we were laying on protested at the minimum movement. I was so tired, I could barely stay awake, but the pain kept me awake.

The worn out barn we'd found to hide in during the winter, creaked ominiously as the chilly winds fought to bring the walls down. I was thankful about not being able to feel cold anymore, but the same couldn't be said about the permanent pain in my belly, the desperate kicking and turning hadn't stopped. I was bruised all over, dark purplish spots littering my abdomen. My arm was worst though, it was barely hanging from my shoulder by some muscle tissue. I didn't look at it, and Daryl didn't mind. He always said I looked pretty, filthy or bruised. I thought he looked perfect with his unkept beard and muddy self. I loved him so much.

He whined, moving spasmodically below me.

"Daryl, it'll be okay soon." I reassured him, he fidgeted slightly, a moan his only reply. "It's going to work out, you, me and our little one. It'll be good." I smiled, my eyes watering as I tilted my face upwards to stare at him. He was paler now, his unfocused eyes dull and soulless. He had been a handsome man, even now, bounded from his wrist and feet with thick duck tape.

I reached for the bloodied rag that covered his mouth, but my hand fell back, numbness taking over me. It was time. He hissed and moaned desperately, although not as loud as before. He knew so too. "We'll be good Daryl," I told him as I gave into an ever lasting sleep.

Author's note: I know, I'm a terrible person, but this could've happened if TWD-verse was real. Anyhow~ Your thoughts are welcomed!