I cannot thank everyone enough who read and reviewed the first chapter. The response blew me away and it really got me motivated to work on and finish the second chapter already. Each chapter is going to alternate back and forth between Daryl and Beth's POV. Thank you and please enjoy!
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Chapter Two.
"Mint chocolate chip ice cream," Beth answered and Michonne nodded, practically licking her lips. "And Fritos that haven't gone completely stale and… blueberry muffins. Now you."
Michonne took a moment to think her own answer over as they walked through the woods. Daryl was on point, leading the way, crossbow over his shoulder, and Michonne and Beth walked behind him, playing a game they sometimes all played when they wanted to pass the time. What food did you miss the most before the turn?
After a breakfast that morning of rabbit and canned peas, it was decided that they needed to seek food and supplies; to see if there was any place near. Rick had suggested to Daryl and Michonne that they go, both readily agreeing, and Daryl had then suggested to Rick that Beth come, too. A part of her had been surprised but a much larger part hadn't been at all. Ever since they found one another again, Beth noticed that Daryl seemed to not want her out of his sight for too long. She understood because she felt the same, too.
The whole time she was in that hospital, Daryl was never from her mind. With everything she did, she would ask herself what Daryl would do or how he would get out of this or how he would survive all of this? She heard his voice constantly in her head, telling her things, offering advice, sometimes barking orders at her, and she wouldn't tell him – she knew he wouldn't believe her – but he was one of the reasons why she had gotten out of there.
And when she found him, when he found her, she had nearly buckled with relief. After all of this time, he was right in front of her again and she didn't know what she would do if they were suddenly pulled apart again. She had gotten so used to having him close. More than one person in their camp noticed how they were together now. They moved as partners; well-oiled and well-trained and well-practiced. It was as if they could anticipate one another's moves before they were made. She hadn't even realized how in sync they had gotten but after spending so much time together – just the two of them – she supposed that it was only natural for it to happen.
He was all she had. She was with the others, yes, but she knew they hadn't put much stock in her. Even her own sister hadn't stuck around, writing her off as dead before leaving with her husband. Beth didn't know if she would ever see Maggie again and at this moment, she didn't know if she even really wanted to.
Daryl had never stopped believing that she was alive and he had never stopped looking for her, knowing without a doubt that he would find her. She didn't think there were words she could ever say to him that could possibly thank him enough.
"Chocolate milk," Michonne began.
"Oh, yes," Beth nodded enthusiastically.
"Cheese and…" she paused a moment, taking another moment to think. "Cheese," Michonne said and Beth laughed softly.
At the sound, Daryl looked over his shoulder back at both them. Beth gave him a small smile and one corner of his mouth twitched upwards before he faced forward again.
She wasn't sure how long they had been walking but they hadn't passed anything. The woods weren't getting thinner to signal to them that they were approaching something and she began to wonder if they should just turn around and head back towards the farmhouse.
It was peaceful the further they walked into the woods. Just birds chirping, leaves rustling in the slight breeze and the faint chatter of a squirrel in a tree. It was almost easy to forget that the world had ended but then a walker shuffled towards them through the brush and Daryl didn't hesitate in firing a bolt from his crossbow into its head.
"What about you, Daryl?" Michonne asked as Daryl went to rip the bolt from the walker's head and load his crossbow again. "What food do you miss?"
Daryl shrugged and didn't answer.
"Sometimes, Daryl really misses the hard-shelled tacos from Taco Bell," Beth answered for him and Michonne looked at her with a raised eyebrow, the question silent but obvious. Beth shrugged slightly and looked to the ground as they walked. "Just something he told me once," she said.
It had been during their weeks together. She had discovered that when Daryl was starving, he got snappy. He was usually short with people but the hunger brought a different type of short fuse and she had learned how to differentiate them all. After he came back from a quick hunt with one paltry squirrel to share between them, he had chewed on the meat and let it slip that he sometimes imagined the tacos from Taco Bell and he swore he could still taste them. Beth had smiled at him as if that was the greatest thing she had ever heard. She had found that she loved learning new things about Daryl Dixon.
"Beth," Daryl said her name and she snapped her head up to look at him. He didn't say anything but he jerked his head towards a tree.
She nodded and stopped walking, Michonne following her lead.
"What's up?" Michonne asked.
"Bathroom break," Beth said. "Are you good?"
Michonne was looking at her closely; curiously. She nodded. "I'm good." She paused and let her eyes linger on the bruises and cuts marring Beth's face. Beth could feel her eyes practically burn her. "How is that?" She asked, her voice soft.
Beth nodded and out of habit already, her fingertips lifted to the scar on her left cheek. "It could always be worse. I could be dead."
Michonne nodded and was silent after that. Beth was grateful. She didn't want to talk about it and she was glad that Michonne was the sort who never talked or questioned or pressed unless the other person was willing.
She didn't want to talk about the hospital. She had let some things slip to Daryl but to no one else and she wanted to keep it that way. It was hard enough just mentioning brief things to Daryl. She wouldn't dare tell him everything. The beatings, the lollipops, the hands sliding up under her shirt that made her want to vomit. She would never tell him that sometimes, when one of the guards had been touching her, she had imagined it was Daryl instead. She didn't know why she had done that.
Daryl stepped from the trees, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. "There's a house comin' up," he said, speaking to both of them but Beth saw that he was only looking at her.
She nodded in response and he turned, disappearing in the foliage again, Michonne following behind and Beth bringing up the rear. Daryl and Beth were both silent but occasionally, Michonne's feet would snap a branch or kick at the leaves on the ground.
There was a building – another house – looming ahead and Daryl stopped, turning to look at Beth, who nodded to his silent order. She moved ahead first and went onto the porch. Just as they had done to the first farmhouse, Daryl knocked loudly and Beth opened the door so Daryl could rush in with his crossbow. Michonne was next, her katana drawn at the ready. Between the three of them, they were able to clear the house of the two lingering walkers within minutes.
As Michonne stayed upstairs to go through the drawers and closets, trying to find warmer clothes and blankets to take back, Beth and Daryl returned downstairs, going into the kitchen. They searched the cabinets finding more canned foods – fruits and vegetables – and a couple jars of expired peanut butter.
"Any pig's feet?" Daryl asked and Beth felt a small smile creep across her lips. When she finished loading her pack, she lifted her eyes and found him looking at her. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Don't I seem okay?"
He didn't answer and she watched him closely. His eyes didn't stay on her though and he turned away from her to resume opening the rest of the cabinets.
"Daryl," she said his name in a soft voice and before she could stop herself, she reached a hand out to touch his arm. He instantly stopped and turned his head to look at her. "You've been through a lot, too," she then reminded him. "Are you okay?"
He nodded just as she knew he would. "Don't I seem okay?" He threw her answer back.
"No," she answered truthfully. "You seem really tired."
He didn't say anything to that and he kept his eyes fixed on her. She was fairly certain she felt herself stop breathing when she watched as Daryl lifted his hand. He brought it to her face and his thumb gently swiped across the scar on her cheek. It was the second time he had done that, the second time he had touched it with gentle care as if he didn't want to bring her any more pain, the second time he initiated contact between them.
And Beth suddenly felt warmth spread everywhere throughout her body.
"You okay with Michonne being here?" He asked her and it wasn't the question she had been expecting.
His hand slowly slipped from her cheek as she nodded her head. "Yeah," she answered truthfully. "Michonne's loyal to Rick and Carl. I know that. I was never expecting her to care one way or another about me… she's not family like some of the others."
Daryl sighed softly. "I don't like how you pullin' yourself away," he then admitted.
She knew what he meant and she knew that that was exactly what she was doing. And she wasn't surprised that out of everyone, he was the one who noticed. Daryl always noticed everything. It was the tracker inside of him.
"I'm right here," she told him softly and she took a small step towards him.
Daryl set his eyes on her and she didn't move her eyes from his as she reached out and slid her hand into his like she had done that day in the cemetery and once again, he let her without pulling away or stiffening at her touch.
She took a deep breath. "I thought about everyone when I was in that place but… I spent my time thinking about you more than anyone," she told him, still in her soft voice, and Daryl stared at her.
She didn't expect a response. She knew he wouldn't know what to say to that. She didn't know why she had said that to him. People didn't say things like that to Daryl Dixon.
Daryl stared at her and said nothing and she didn't know what else to say.
They both heard the stairs creak as Michonne came back down and Daryl stepped away, pulling his hand from her. Michonne entered the kitchen, her arms full of blankets and a few bits of clothing.
"Ready?" She asked.
Daryl glanced to Beth and then nodded, looking back to Michonne. "Yeah. Just a couple more closets we still need to check."
He moved from the kitchen and Michonne came to Beth, helping her shove the blankets and clothes into her pack with the food. They all heard a rustling outside and when Beth lifted her head to look, Daryl was already moving outside, crossbow at his shoulder, and Michonne followed. Beth closed the pack and slung the now heavy bundle onto her back. She took the hunting knife from the sheath and made her way outside, too. There were three walkers on the ground, easily dispatched by Daryl and Michonne and by the time Beth joined them, it was done and there were no more.
Daryl looked at her, the question silent on his face, and Beth nodded her head once.
This time, as they began making their way back, Michonne was point and Daryl and Beth walked behind, side by side. He didn't say anything and she was grateful for the silence. She felt as if she had reached her talking quota of the day and didn't feel like doing it any longer. Of everyone, Daryl would understand the need for silence more than anyone.
She supposed she could talk to him about what was going on between them because something most definitely was happening between them. It had shifted that night as they sat on the front porch with jars of moonshine. He had talked to her without her prompting him to and had told her things she was certain he had never told another person. And as he opened up to her, she opened up to him and for the first time, she felt as if she had a friend in this world. Ever since the prison had fallen and she and Daryl had escaped together, she had sat there with him and had felt as if she wasn't completely alone.
And then, in the funeral home, something had happened. She couldn't be sure what but he started looking at her in a different way and she felt herself beginning to do the same. But then, she was dragged away from him and sometimes, at night in her hospital bed, she looked out the window and cried silently to herself because so much had been ripped away from her already and she didn't know if she would ever see him again.
But she was here. She had found her way back to him and now, that something in the funeral home was still here but still not being talked about. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe she was very much an eighteen-year-old girl who had a crush on her companion and it was nothing more than that. Maybe he hadn't been looking at her any differently and deep down, she had just hoped he had been.
When they arrived at the farmhouse, Beth went inside to rid herself of the food and blankets and she watched as Daryl and Rick stayed outside to talk with one another, probably making plans for what they would do next. She knew going to Washington D.C. was an option but it was one she hoped they wouldn't take. She knew her sister and Glenn had gone off with the man who swore he knew the cure to all of this and though she hadn't met him or those with him, Beth knew she very much doubted him.
"You've brought us a feast," Carol smiled at her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
Beth did her best to smile. "I've never been so happy to see a box of rice before."
"We'll get some water and make it over a fire tonight," Carol promised her and Beth felt the smile come a little easier now though she knew it was still small. Not her usual smile. "He was such a wreck when you were gone," Carol then said in a soft, low voice. Beth felt her smile slip from her face. "He tried to act like he was fine but he wasn't. I knew he wasn't."
Beth wasn't sure what to say. She knew Daryl had looked and searched for her as hard as he could and yet, she hadn't imagined what he would have been like while doing so.
"Well, I'm back now," she finally spoke and Carol smiled again, squeezing her arm.
"Yes, you are. And Daryl can go back to being Daryl," she said with some sense of finality as if the decision was made and that was that.
Carol left then and Beth looked around at everyone going through the clothes and food and dividing the blankets between them. They were talking and the occasional laughter escaped but Beth suddenly felt as if she could no longer breathe while in that room with them. There was a back door in the kitchen and she slipped through it, stepping outside at the back of the house. She took a big gulp of air and then another. These sometimes hit her. These attacks. Ever since she had gotten out of the hospital, she sometimes felt like there were moments where she couldn't breathe and she would have to gasp over and over again to get her lungs working once more. She sometimes felt too warm and too boxed in and she had to get out. She sometimes felt like she just had to get away.
She pulled her knife from her hip and held it as she went into the trees. Her ears were perked for any type a noise – animal or walker – but she couldn't hear anything except birds and Carol's voice inside of her own head. I knew he wasn't. Beth had never asked Daryl about Carol. It was none of her business though it was obvious to everyone how close those two were. Daryl had almost killed himself looking for Carol's daughter and after that, they had a bond between them that seemed unbreakable. Beth had been curious but she had never asked; as if she knew that Daryl wouldn't answer even if she had. Were they friends or something more?
She sighed heavily, angry with herself. It was the end of the world. The apocalpyse. And she was getting jealous for no reason whatsoever. She didn't have time for this. None of them did. What did it even matter? Daryl can go back to being Daryl. She repeated Carol's words to herself. Now, that she was back, the group could return to how it was supposed to be and that meant Daryl being Rick's right hand man. His henchman. Not her babysitter. She didn't need him to look after her. She had looked after herself before and had done just fine.
She heard a rustling behind her that wasn't from the wind and she instantly turned, her knife raised but it was only Daryl. She slowly lowered her knife and looked at him. She wanted to ask him what he was doing; why he was out here; why he had followed her but she didn't speak and instead, she turned again, putting her back to him. She wanted to tell him to go away but the words caught in her throat and she couldn't bring herself to give them voice. She wanted to be alone and yet, he was the only one she wanted near her.
She began walking again and she felt Daryl behind her.
He was such a wreck when you were gone.
Beth tried to imagine what that had been like. She had hugged him as he had broken down – finally – outside of that moonshine shack but that had been in anger at himself and sadness at the loss of everyone else. What was Daryl Dixon like when he was a wreck? And what did that mean if he was wreck just because she was gone?
She sighed again. She really had to stop. It didn't matter and she didn't care. None of it mattered. She wasn't in high school anymore, giggling with her friends because one of the cute boys in their class smiled at her. That world was dead and gone and there was only this one now. There was no room for anything besides trying to survive it.
There were some low branches and she bent down to walk beneath them but she stood up too soon and strands of her hair got caught.
"Dang it," she muttered under her breath as she tried to free the tangles. Daryl came up, his lips twitching as if he wanted to smile, and he helped her get her hair from the branches. "Thank you," she said softly, looking at him, and he nodded without saying anything. She sheathed the knife and then made quick work, taking her ponytail down and fixing it, tying it back again. "What are you doing out here?" She then finally was able to ask him.
He shrugged. "You're here," he said simply. "And you're helpin' me track dinner."
Beth didn't know what to say after that so she didn't say anything. She turned her head away and Daryl stepped past her to continue hunting an animal or two for them to eat. She was the one to follow him now, keeping her steps silent, and she pulled her knife again.
Being out here in the woods like this with him, just the two of them, she could easily imagine that they were back to where they were, weeks ago, when it truly was just the two of them. She wanted it to be the two of them again. Just the two of them again. When it had been, she had wanted to find the others so desperately. She had assumed that wherever the others were, they were trying to find her and Daryl, too. At least she knew now that they would have looked for Daryl. Never her. They all knew that the only reason she had lived past the prison was because of Daryl. She knew it, too. She supposed they were happy she wasn't dead but it was the kind of happiness they would feel if anyone they knew turned up alive and not dead. Wasn't much more than just a typical human reaction.
Within the group, she didn't matter much. She never had. She was Hershel's daughter and Maggie's sister and Judith's caretaker but nothing really more than that. And now, she was even less. Her dad was dead, her sister was gone and Judith had someone else taking care of her. She knew she could slip away into the woods and leave and the only one who would really notice her absence – and care about it – would be Daryl.
She was so deep in thought that when Daryl released his bolt, she jumped, startled. She watched as the arrow pierced the side a rabbit, the animal falling to the ground. He went to go collect both the rabbit and his bolt and when he returned, she took the animal from him.
"Where you at? You're distracted," he noted.
She nodded, not denying it.
"If you wanna talk…" he trailed off, the words hanging and then dying in the air, and he looked almost confused, as if he couldn't quite believe that he had just offered that.
And Beth wanted to smile because she couldn't quite believe it either.
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
Daryl stared at her then, his eyes hard as always, and she knew he was seeing right through the bullshit but she didn't care if he knew or not. Was she fine? No. But did she want to talk about it? No. She was never going to talk about it. It would do no good besides making her relive through it all while she just wanted to leave it behind.
"I got the biggest blanket Michonne found," he changed the subject. "No tent but was thinkin' we could set that up and sleep outside tonight. If you still wanna."
"I want," she found herself eagerly nodding her head. "Just the two of us?" She then asked before she could stop herself.
Daryl stared at her and she saw his eyes soften. Just barely but it happened and she wondered if anyone else besides her would be able to notice.
"Yeah," he nodded, speaking softly. "Just us."
Beth exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
She felt like she could breathe again.
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