A/N: I own nothing of TWD but I'd sure like to borrow Norman Reedus for a couple of hours :)- Thanks for all the great comments and reviews. The last chapter was more from Beth's perspective, now it's Daryl's turn. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
A drizzling wetness continued to fall as they continued deeper into the woods. The grey misty haze covered the sky, blotting out any real sun but Daryl guessed it was well after midday. He figured they were a safe distance from the men but their newest and biggest problem was the weather now. The temperature was dropping fast and the cold sprinkling was starting to pick up.
Daryl glanced over at Beth. She had pulled the hood up over her head a while back and pulled the strings tight but he could tell she was wet down to the bone and miserable despite being tight-lipped about the situation. His hair was dripping water down the back of his neck. They had to get out of this mess; it wasn't letting up. Daryl searched the area intently, they needed shelter but there just wasn't anything but trees in all directions. He growled in frustration.
Beth sent a questioning look over to Daryl, her brow furrowed. "Daryl?"
"Damn rain," he muttered in response.
"It's turning to sleet." Beth frowned and tried to wipe the cold wetness from her eyes. "Maybe… maybe we should try going back? Maybe the men left?" she offered again.
"Would you leave?" he asked brusquely. Even if the band of men had left, they were more than a half day's travel from the house. They would never make it before nightfall. No, they had to find something here soon. The town back by the house was also too dangerous with that group of men around. Daryl had watched the troop as they appeared from the woods, quickly and silently and he had felt his stomach bottom out. They moved not as a ragged group but as a skilled and deadly band of men who knew how to act with precision and stealth. He knew their kind. He wasn't about to put Beth or himself anywhere near them.
Anger flashed across her face. "Well, what do you suggestion then? We can't stay out in this."
Before Daryl could bark an answer back a low moan came from behind them with a loud shuffle of brush. Daryl whipped around with his bow raised and aimed. Beth followed in suite, her knife poised and ready. Three walkers appear from the bushes, stumbling and groaning a few yards from them. Daryl let an arrow fly, hitting the lead male walker squarely between the eyes. The corpse fell to the ground, reaching for the last time. The others, a large man missing one arm in a jogging suit and an elderly woman in a thin and torn night-shirt, continued for the pair over their fallen comrade. There was time to reload so Daryl took several steps back as he reached for another arrow. Beth, moving slightly away, whistled to attract the dead and allow Daryl a chance to reload; a tactic they had used numerous times before. The lumbering man continued on course, reaching one grey beefy hand for Daryl while the decaying woman focused her attention on Beth.
The dead woman was fresher than the other two corpses so her stumbling was quicker and more coordinated. Beth took another step back, the damp muddy ground shifted under foot and caused her to lose her balance. The moment's distraction allowed the walker to lurch forward, snarling in anticipation, and grab a firm hold on to Beth's forearm that was holding the knife with its bony hand. Beth struggled against the monster, exhaustion from the day obvious affecting her strength against the snapping walker.
Daryl raised his bow and let the arrow fly at his attacker, the large man dropping instantly. "Beth!"
Beth tried to rip her arm free forcefully but only managed to lose her footing again. The momentum was with the walker now, forcing Beth back and down. They twisted and fell, struggling on the soggy forest floor. Daryl race to the fray, pulling his knife from its sheath and dropping his bow. His fingers brush the creature's body as he watched its teeth bear down on Beth's shoulder. A scream bubbled out of her throat, piercing the misty air around them. Bile rose up in him as Daryl tore the walker off Beth with wicked force. With the same fluid motion, he turned and his plunged his knife into the milky white eye of the walker, tossing the corpse aside.
Daryl turned back to Beth. She was kneeling in the mud, her hands covering the spot by her collar bone where she was attacked. Her face white with shock. Her eyes wide, blue and staring at nothing.
He swallowed the awful taste in his mouth. "Be-"
A strangled sound escaped Beth's lips. Half a cry, half a giggle. Her tears were mixing with the heavy sleet that had begun to fall. Daryl dropped to one knee in the mud, grabbing hold of her uninjured shoulder fiercely. A cold sweat had broken out over his body from the unsettling laughing wails esaping Beth.
"Gotta look at it," he whispered, his mouth suddenly so dry. What the hell had just happened? Not Beth, not Beth, his mantra repeated loudly in his head. Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest as he reached for Beth's hands, still clutching at the injured shoulder.
Beth gave a sharp shake of her head, her eyes brimming with tears but smiling strangely at him. "Not bitten," she managed to get out between chuckles.
She pulled her hands back, cupping them tightly. Daryl fingers instantly sought the site, there was a small rip and indent in the fabric but no obvious wound. He grabbed hold of her zipper and pushed open her soaking hoodie. Beth jerked back slightly as he reached under the collar of her damp shirt, fingers pulling the fabric back to get a better look at her collar bone and shoulder area. A pink bra strap was exposed, pale flesh starting to bruise but not broken. His blue eyes instantly found Beth's eyes, almost black in the dim grey haze surrounding them.
She raised her hands up, still cupped. "Look." A set of dentures rested her in palms. "They- they practically fell out once it- it bit me. I screamed when it started t'… clamp down and…" Her hands started to tremble. "I'm fine."
It was more of a question than an actual statement. Daryl nodded slowly as the relief washed over him. Beth was fine. Fucking poligrip had failed. A grin started to form. Beth was alive. An overwhelming urge to grab her and hold her tight surged in Daryl. He had to physically stop himself from lunging forward and wrapping her up in his arms. It a startled him, that strange and overpowering feeling. It was something that was creeping up on him more and more recently. Daryl gripped her shoulder a little tighter for reassurance. His or hers, he wasn't sure on which.
A shiver trembled through Beth's body, bringing Daryl back to their situation and the fact his right hand was still the reason for Beth's exposed flesh. He released her, catching one more fleeting glimpse of a pink strap before her clothes returned to their natural state. Beth dropped the dentures suddenly, as if they burned, and reached her shaking hands to her zipper, pulling her it her chin. He climbed to his feet and grabbed his bow, scanning the area around them quickly He collected his arrows from the rotting corpses. There were no new walker threats but the rain had turned to sleet and was coming down harder and faster. They were in more danger from the weather at the moment than more walkers. He returned to Beth and offered a hand to her to help her to her feet. She grasped on to his calloused hand, pulling herself to her feet. She held it, tight for a moment, steadying herself on her feet.
"We need t' move. Ya ok?" he questioned, watching her grimace as she shifted her weight gingerly from one leg to another.
Beth frowned. "My knee. I think I twisted it when I fell." She took a tentative step towards him but cried out softly in pain when the pressure reached her left leg. Daryl grabbed her awkwardly with one arm as she started to lose her footing again.
He grumbled deep in his chest, pulling her towards him to support her better. "Shit." There is it was again, that urge to completely wrap her tightly in his fold.
"Sorry," Beth groaned, clutching his upper arm for support. She looked up at Daryl, a questioning look and fear in her eyes. She doesn't ask it but he can see it written all over her face – what the hell were they going to do?
He glanced out at the forest again, growing whiter and wetter with each passing second. They needed shelter and fast. They had no prospects and now Beth could barely move. They couldn't go back the way they came. So that left forward. He looked back at Beth when he felt her tremble against his arm again. There was only one other option too.
He slung his bow on to his back. "Here, gimme your arm," he ordered, a puff of his breath becoming visible in the chilled air.
Beth complied, wincing as she moved to give him her arm. Daryl bent lower, sliding her arm around his neck and sweeping her legs up into his grasp. Beth let out a little gasp at the suddenness of being in hauled up into his arms. Daryl's brows gave a perplexed twitch as he shifted Beth in his support. Girl was heavier than she looked, maybe it was the fact that she was sopping wet. Hell, she ain't gonna to get any lighter, Daryl supposed and start to trudge forward. He still wasn't sure where he was taking them but he knew they couldn't stay put.
Beth curled her arm around Daryl's neck, trying to help with the support. "Daryl, I can try t' walk… I just need a little help is all," she offered.
"Easier this way," he got out between gritted teeth as he carefully maneuvered a slight slope, careful not to jumble her too much.
Beth clutched his neck tighter as he navigated to even ground. "Daryl…" she chided, "You can't carry me the whole way."
He huffed out an indigent breath. "Tryin' to say I'ah old man?" He picked up the pace as if to prove something but really, he knew the more distance he covered before he wasn't able to carry her the better.
A small smile crept on to her face, a smirk almost. "Nah, Mr. Dixon, I would never call you old." The emphasis was on all the right words.
"Ungrateful girl," he grumbled back at her but with no real malice behind it. "I'll carry you until I can't. Then… then we'll figure somethin' out."
Beth nodded and relaxed a bit into his hold, shivering. If he had thought more of it, he would have kept her talking but as it was he was grateful for the silence between them. He always was, especially now since it wasn't awkward between them anymore, and he needed to be alone with his thoughts to try to think of something to get them out of this mess. Hell of a way to die, from the weather, when there were millions of undead wandering the earth looking to take you down as a meal. He did not notice when the shivering, which had increased almost to the point of annoyance, had stopped. Nor did Daryl notice when she laid her head his shoulder, letting it droop.
His focus had been intently on the task of finding shelter. He did notice his fingers growing numb, his arms beginning to burn and the soreness starting to pierce into his lower back. He did notice the weather had turned to a heavy wet snow, coating everything in a blanket of white. He did notice the creeping, icy uncertainty and fear filling him. The cold reality surrounding him, failure was at hand...
