I'm not too sure about continuing this story, so I thought I'd at least do a scene and see how you guys feel. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Thanks for the previous comments! Now onward to this scene! Please let me know if you think this homeless AU is worth continuing. If so, I will post much longer chapters and such. Feedback is now more important than ever because I am really conflicted.

Chapter one:

She snored. She snored pretty damn loud for such a petite thing. Enough so that Daryl found himself shifting over onto his side under the mats and old blankets he kept stored underneath the overpass. Why he allowed her to tot along and even stay for that matter was beyond his reasoning. They hadn't even talked much-mostly because he hadn't allowed a great deal of conversation. But here they were, the both of them, sharing his few belongings on a cold December night. No soup kitchen. No church. Just the warmth of their own bodies to keep them going until the hours of daylight struck.

Daryl picked at the dirt absently under his fingernails, glancing back every so often at the girl who lay beside him. She was young, maybe late teens...early twenties, too pretty to have been out here for particularly long. Didn't look like a case of drug addiction-again, too clean cut and scarless for a heroine or meth addict. A runaway maybe. But why? She seemed too kind and...flowery to be angry at the world. And her immediate attachment to him made abuse seem less of a result.

"Hey...you awake?"

He hadn't wanted to hear her, he didn't need to hear her. The last thing he wanted to do was talk. Talking was far from anything he preferred to do, which was why he tended to be a loner in the first place. He grunted, not turning around to face her even as the blankets shifted as she sat up. He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his neck, gazing intently at him as he remained still.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No," he grumbled. "But ya might as well have."

"Oh..." she sounded slightly apologetic. "Well...I just thought that maybe...maybe we can talk?"

"Ain't got nothin' to say," replied the man, pulling a towel further up over his body. "Jus' go back to sleep."

For a few moments, silence fell between the two individuals, Daryl exhaling in relief as he allowed his eyelids to become more relaxed over his eyes. As his breathing drew slower and more rhythmic, sleep beginning to pull him towards the realm of unconsciousness, he heard the voice that made him stiffen. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small frown, a noise of irritation rumbling in his chest as he shifted further away.

"I'm from the country," the girl began. "Not too far from Atlanta, but far enough that we didn't see much of the city or its traffic. See, I grew up with my mama, my daddy, and two older siblin's. Brother and sister. Both really nice and all. My whole family is nice, but I was really sheltered."

He didn't give a damn, could honestly care less about her life story. Though, never would he openly admit it, he was the slightest bit curious. He chose not to respond however, falling silent as Beth continued to talk. That was her name, wasn't it? He had only met her an hour or so before. For all he knew, her name was Rachel and he'd just made the whole thing up. Not that it would matter.

"I can sing," she continued. "Really well if I do say so myself. But Daddy...he didn't want me explorin' it much more than choir at the church. But I thought I could be real big, ya know? Make something of myself? So I decided to leave. Just...just show 'em what I can really do..." She paused, swallowing hard. "Guess the 'Hollywood Dream' is a lot harder than they make it out to be..."

Daryl felt a slight sense of guilt for the girl. Innocent. Faithful. She had left a good home, a good life to pursue something that was much less impossible than not. And here she was, out on the street with someone like him. Exhaling, he moved his arm underneath his head, blinking in the darkness as cars occasionally rolled overhead on the highway. Beth didn't speak much more after that. Becoming silent just as it did most late nights.