"We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go," Daryl said, eyes steady on the petite blonde in front of him. She peered back at him with large, blue doe eyes. He could see she was scared. Despite everything that happened that day, Beth took off in a jog with Daryl. The Governor was dead, Daryl had seen Michonne slay him with her katana.
This was going to be all over, for the most part. Everyone was fleeing. The prison wasn't a suitable place to stay anymore. And with all the gunfire and tank blast the Governor had brought, every walker within a ten-mile radius was on their way there.
As Daryl and Beth ran away from the prison, he noticed the bus was gone. They fled without them. He didn't know how many people were on the bus, or how many people didn't make it. Beth noticed the same he had. She tore her eyes away and only kept running. It wouldn't help now to cry, they weren't safe just yet.
"Go, Beth," Daryl pushed her forward gently. He slowed his pace only a bit so now she was in front of him. They tore into the woods without another glance back to the prison. Daryl kept his crossbow at the ready, willing to keep Beth safe with all he had.
They kept running for a while until Beth couldn't go any further. "Daryl, we have to slow down," she gasped. She gulped down air as she leaned forward onto her knees. Daryl stood beside her, a hand on her back as he scouted the area with his eyes. Beth was aware of his hand on her back, but didn't think anything of it. She liked Daryl.
He let his hand drop as she straightened out. "How far do you think we went?" She asked, pushing back sweaty hair from her forehead.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "It's hard to tell. We should keep going until we find somewhere to stay for the night. It will be getting dark soon," he said. Beth nodded, agreeing with him. Together, the started to trek through the woods again.
Beth had pulled her revolver out of her back pant's pocket and held it in both of her hands, muzzle pointed towards the ground. She stared up at the tops of the trees, trying to tell what time of day it was. She knew it was early afternoon when the Governor had showed up and they have been traveling for an hour or two. "Daryl, what are we going to do?" The reality of what had happened early was catching up to her.
She was separated from her sister, Judith and her father – her father was gone. He was slain at the hands of the Governor. She couldn't let herself be weak in front of Daryl; she already knew what he thought of her – weak and frail. She swallowed her tears and kept moving. "We're going to find them," Daryl said, stealing a glance to look at her.
Both Daryl and Beth tried to believe his words, but it was hard now. The group was scattered and in a frenzy. Up ahead, Daryl had spotted something between the trees. He touched Beth on the shoulder. She looked to him and he held up a finger to his lips. Instinctively, Beth raised her gun, arms straight and one hand cupping the other like she was taught.
Daryl took small and calculated steps as he approached the house. He peered through the window, his eyes frantically searching the inside. The sun was falling lower in the sky and this was his best hope for surviving the night. Beth followed behind his silently, careful to point her gun anywhere but on him.
He waved her on to the sliding glass door. He slid it open but didn't venture inside. Instead, he tapped on the glass pane with the tip of one of his spare arrows. If there were any walkers inside, they would be attracted to the sound. Minutes passed and Daryl tapped once more. Again, they waited but no walkers pursued them.
"This should be good for the night," Daryl said. "Since we don't have any water or food we can start in the kitchen. You look around while I secure the rest of the house," he said. Beth nodded and tucked her gun into her waistband. Daryl closed the door behind them and she ventured into the kitchen with Daryl.
He quickly secured the room and set off to the rest of the house. Beth threw open all the cupboards at once and set all of the food down on the cupboard. There was a load of canned foods mostly and a few warm bottles of water in the fridge. It was better than nothing. Daryl stilled hadn't returned by the time she was finished raiding the kitchen.
She wasn't worried; she hadn't heard any signs of a struggle. She leaned against the counter, fiddling with one of the cans in her hands and reading the nutrition facts on the label. She was reading her third can when she heard Daryl approaching. She straightened up, abandoning the can on the counter. "The house is secured," he said. "There's two bedrooms upstairs, one for each of us," he continued.
Beth splayed her hands around her stash of food. "This is all I found for water," she said, defeat tingeing her voice. Daryl picked up one of the water bottles. He shook it, half empty.
"It's alright, this is just one house. We're in a development; the other houses will have more stuff. We'll go look in the morning," he said. Beth nodded. She looked at Daryl, noting just how tired he looked. She then glanced to one of the windows, it was dark.
Beth wandered away from the kitchen into what had to be the living room. She gazed out the window, watching a few walkers shamble down the road. She shivered. "We should get to bed. It's been a long day," Daryl said from behind her.
She turned away from the window and followed him up the stairs. Daryl led her down one of the hallways and nudged open one of the doors. "You can sleep in here. It's safe. I'll just be down the hall in that room," Daryl pointed to a door diagonally from hers. She nodded once again.
"Goodnight, Daryl," she wandered into the room. Before she shut the door she looked back to him. "And thank you." Daryl gave her a curt nod before disappearing down the hallway. Beth shut her door and stared curiously around her temporary room. It was bland, lots of white and tans.
It was clearly a girl's room, though, and probably the reason why Daryl had given her that one. The bed was neatly made, a plush bunny rabbit lying on the pillow. Beth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to keep her mind from wandering to her sister and her father.
She wandered over to the dresser, pulling one of them open. There were fresh and clean clothes inside. Whoever lived in this home before the outbreak must have not had a lot of time to flee. She rummaged through the rest of the drawers before finding a set of pajamas.
Beth stripped off her sweaty and blood stained clothes and dressed in the pajamas. They were pastel colors, the bottoms being a little short for her and the shirt showing a strip of her stomach. They were good enough for just the night.
She looked at herself in the mirror above the vanity. Big, round eyes and a dirty face with sunshine hair. She pulled her hair tie out and let her tresses tumble down to her shoulders. Beth then climbed into the bed, the mattress hard and cold. It felt nothing like her home.
Looking out the window one last time, she counted the walkers on the street. She lost count easily. The longer she counted, the more they morphed into the image of her father. A white beard, an amputated leg, suspenders and kind eyes.
Pain bloomed throughout her. She curled over onto the bed, the image of her father as a walker long gone. Tears spilled over and fell onto the bed. Sobs racked through her chest as she cradled the gangly bunny to her.
She needed time to grieve, to let herself come to terms with what happened today. She was strong, but everyone had their own weaknesses. She didn't hear the door crack open. Daryl had heard her cries from down the hall. He argued with himself if he wanted to go in there and comfort her or let herself deal with it on her own.
But just way her cries tore through him; he already had the answer in his head. He wandered down the hallway, hesitating to knock, but just opened the door a crack. She was a sight for sore eyes. She looked like a rag doll whose clothes were a size too small.
Daryl wandered inside and paused at the foot of the bed. He had never had to comfort anyone like this, except for maybe when Carol first set eyes on Sophia when she wandered out of the barn. Even that was different. Beth was barely an adult.
Daryl approached her, sat on the bed and laid a hand on her thigh. "Beth?" He asked. She jumped at the feel of his hand on her leg. He didn't mean to scare her. He drew his hand back. "I'm sorry, Beth," he said, softening his gaze as she looked up to him.
She hiccupped as she sat up, wiping her tears away. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this." Daryl shook his head, but opened his arms. Beth, almost reluctantly, crawled into them. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "It's okay to cry. But just know that I'm here for you. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm going to get you back to your sister. I promise."
Beth sniffled and wiped away another stray tear. "Thank you, Daryl," she said. She was barely aware that he was wearing a wife beater and old jeans. But she felt strangely comfortable with him. He resisted the urge to lean his head down and bury his nose in her hair. But this moment didn't call for that. "I think I'll be fine now," she said.
Daryl nodded, loosening his grip. Beth pulled away from him as he stood up. She tucked her toes under the blanket and slid farther underneath them. Daryl retreated to the doorway and closed it until he heard the lock click.