Beth's eyelids fluttered in quick succession, and she released a low groan as she gradually regained consciousness. Blinking warily, she tried pushing herself up using her elbows, only to be pushed back down by a firm hand on her shoulder. Not having the strength to fight, Beth settled back down and instead took stock of her surroundings.

Enclosed in a green tent, Beth was laying on top of a cot and tucked snuggly inside a thick sleeping bag. A familiar face hovered next to her, and she took some comfort in realizing she wasn't still on the highway.

"Hey," Susan greeted her. "Welcome back, Greene."

"What . . . what happe-" Beth rasped. She could barely run her tongue over the roof of her mouth it was so dry—so speech was next to impossible. Understanding lit Susan's face, and she carefully assisted with angling Beth's head up to give her some water.

"You had a pretty nasty concussion. It didn't help that you were hungry and dehydrated," Susan said. "God, you should have told me, Beth. Don't pull that again, you're no good to anyone passing out," she scolded, whipping away some water that dribbled down her chin.

Beth's thoughts immediately went to Clara and Chris. "The kids?" she probed.

"They're okay. Yeah, they're okay. Jacqui is keeping a close eye on 'em. Speaking of which, Clara will be happy you're finally awake, she's been with you just as diligently as I have," Susan responded fondly, but quickly sobered. "You've been out more than forty-eight hours, you know. Gave me quite the scare. But thankfully, the supplies we took from the hospital came in handy. How are you feeling?"

She simply shrugged her shoulders, Beth didn't want to admit to her friend how pathetic she felt. Shame forced her gaze down when she considered how much of a burden she must have been during the time she was unconscious and maybe even before than. "Where are we?" Beth asked blandly.

Susan sighed in exasperation at her attempt to bypass the question, but mercifully conceded. "Well, we're at the quarry now, but we weren't the first one's to get here. In fact, there were quite a few people that had already made camp. Apparently, they'd been a part of the traffic jam waiting to get into the city before it was bombed. We decided to join forces—more or less."

"Oh," Beth mumbled tiredly. She couldn't muster up the enthusiasm at discovering more survivors when her vision kept getting fuzzier around the edges.

"Okay, Beth. It's okay," Susan reassured, patting her shoulder soothingly.

Without needing to be told twice, she was dragged down into oblivion once more.

The air was hot and sticky today. Beth used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat off her brow for the hundredth time this afternoon while moving down the wash line, collecting the clothes that had semi dried. Little Christopher slept peacefully against her chest, his wisps of red hair sticking straight up towards the sky as he snored softly.

She tenderly ran a finger over his soft downy cheek, giggling when his legs twitched at the sensation.

Beth was thankful that Susan managed to procure a sling that was designed to cool the baby down in this intense heat. The black carrier wrapped around her chest and back, securely cradling him inside. It had been a chore lugging his bassinet everywhere earlier—but that was until she found the sling among their gear and since then getting work done, plus keeping an eye on the kids became much simpler.

Beth huffed to herself as more sweat formed at the base of her temples—swelling large enough till they rolled down her skin. The wetness only seemed to emphasize the blistering heat. The refreshed feeling she enjoyed after scrubbing off the filth this morning had completely vanished, because since joining the land of the living she hadn't stopped moving, forcing a new layer of dirt to settle over her skin in recompense.

After being introduced to some of the members in the camp, Beth immediately started organizing her group's supplies and establishing the everyday tasks that needed to be done. The need to create a routine, or some semblance of normality in this uncertain world was for Beth, becoming essential. Staying busy also suppressed the part of her that was tempted to just stay in the tent, to pretend that this was all just some nightmare that she could wake up from.

Beth's hands paused on the shirt she was taking down and her grip tightened on the fabric. Nightmares were something she was rapidly becoming accustomed to. Visions of mangled flesh hanging off of bloodied tendons, festering gazes, and rotting teeth . . .

She was abruptly pulled out of her tortured thoughts by Chris's fidgeting, and she sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. Between her thoughts and wanting to avoid future angry cries when the baby woke up, Beth hurried up and grabbed the rest of the clothes off the line, carelessly throwing them into the basket before heading back to her tent.

The camp as a whole was very active today. The majority of the members were at first busy with chores, but after a while a lot of the survivors ran out of things to do and some of them were just trying to pass the time. Beth spotted Andrea and Amy sitting under the awning of Dale's RV and waved to them politely, offering a small smile. Almost everyone has been kind to her thus far, but one thing was for certain—this was one random group of people.

She wasn't going to lie to herself, she was hesitant to make new friends among this group; it wasn't as if she planned to stay among them for too long. The plan would always be to ultimately get back to the farm, but she was getting the vibe that they were going to be here for a while and getting attached to some of the folks might be inevitable.

"Hey, Sue?" Beth asked, setting the basket down. "Would you be willin' to change his diaper so I can finish up some things before startin' dinner?"

Susan put her gun on the cooler and nodded. "Yeah."

Under Jacqui's watchful eye, a group of kids laughed as they played tag while Clara was enthusiastically trying to keep up with the older kids longer strides. Shaking her head with a smile, Beth hitched the laundry on her hip and made her way over to the back of the Hummer, assured that Clara was in goods hands for the moment.

Opening the trunk to put the clothes away, she froze when a thunderous rustling came from the forest behind her.

The sounds only got louder and seemed to be moving closer. Beth whipped around, squeezing the hilt of her knife as she squinted towards the woods—trying to decipher where exactly the noise was coming from. Her gaze fixated on her left when multiple branches started snapping in unison, almost as if something was stomping through them.

She waited on baited breath for a walker to appear. Beth considered screaming for help when she froze and dropped her arm with a sigh when two men emerged from between the trees. One man casually walked with a dead deer thrown over his shoulders and another man followed close behind, a crossbow and some squirrels hanging off either arm.

The man that held the deer stopped short when he caught sight of Beth. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? If it ain't Sleeping Beauty!" he announced.

Feeling a little uncomfortable under both men's sudden scrutiny, Beth crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm Beth," she corrected with more bravado than she actually felt.

The older of the two dropped the deer like a sack of potatoes and swaggered over to her. "Beth . . ." he echoed back. Letting out a small whistle, he stopped in front of her and tilted his head to the side. "Well, princess, you can call me Merle," he said leering at her. "Yep, good ole' Merle."

The man who called himself 'Merle' ogled her body again—only this time he slowly took his time, making her fidget beneath his gaze. Beth resisted the urge to take a step back to compensate for his intrusion into her personal space. However, she knew that for him it would only confirm how uneasy he made her, so she stood her ground.

Never taking his eyes off her, he hollered over his shoulder, "Hey, Prince Charming! Get your ass on over here. It's the damsel in distress you had slung over your shoulder from the other day. Sleeping Beauty, here, has finally woken up."

Glossing over the thick sarcasm embedded in his tone, Beth came up short at the mention of the other man having her in his possession at any point. Combing through her memories, her jaw slackened with sudden clarity. She had completely forgotten about the stranger that saved Clara and her on the highway. Beth took a second look at the other man and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when she recognized that same scowl from a few days ago.

He looked right back at her. But in the instant Merle mentioned the heroic act the stranger didn't look too pleased to be reminded of it.

Damp brown hair stuck to his forehead and sides of his face—but it was his thunderous expression that really caught her attention as he stared at them through narrowed eyes. His jaw clenched and his arms crossed over his chest in obvious irritation. He didn't look impressed either at Merle's cynical jabs or her. Beth couldn't tell which was the case and for some reason unbeknownst to her—not knowing bothered her.

Merle focused on his friend with an amused snicker. At least someone was enjoying this bizarre encounter, not that it stopped her temper from rising in response to the other man's hostile posture. Beth's eyes darted between the two men; it was like she was a string caught between two alley cats.

Although as the seconds ticked by her anger was steadily being overshadowed by discomfort. Merle turned back and was watching her again, this time in general curiosity. She didn't know which look turned her stomach more—being seen as a sex object or considered with real interest. Genuine curiosity from a man like Merle didn't spell out anything noble.

Then from the silence a gun cocked behind her.

Merle ripped his gaze up and if possible whatever he saw made his smirk turn into a full-blown grin. "Sunshine!"

Susan was back in her chair with a shotgun lying across her lap—tapping said shotgun's barrel warningly with a blank look on her face.

Suffice to say that she seemed pissed and Beth felt relief wash over her.

"Merle," Susan said. "I thought we already had this discussion?"

Merle lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Just makin' friends is all!" he replied, his grin never leaving his face.

A rare breeze rippled through the air—blowing the hair that was stuck to the nape of Beth's neck away. She pushed the few blonde strands that flew past her vision behind her ear while Susan leaned forward in her chair.

"Well then, if you're just making friends," Susan parroted back in mock understanding. However, in a split second, her voice swiftly twisted into a rather chilly tone as she said, "But a word to the wise, you know . . . between friends. If I ever catch you looking at Beth like you just did again, Dixon. I won't hesitate in shooting off your balls."

Merle hesitated before chuckling, "I love it when you talk dirty to me, woman."

Without fear, he approached the new object of his interest, seeming to disregard the very real threat of being shot. Sue continued to tap her fingers against the shotgun.

At some point the conversation had obviously started to bore Merle's companion, because he sat angled away from the scene meticulously cleaning his kills. Beth wanted to walk over and thank him, but feared what he would say to her if she did. She was just about to suck up the courage when Clara suddenly came running up to her.

The little girl proudly paraded a yellow dandelion in her outstretched hand—pushing her arm up as far as she could reach so Beth could get a better look.

"Bethy! Bethy, look it!" Clara squealed. Her cheeks were rosy from exertion and she was sporting the first excited smile Beth had seen on the toddlers face in days. Her lips curved up into a genuine smile at the display of childish innocence.

Getting down on her knees in front of the toddler, she began to realize that Clara wasn't showing her the flower as much as the small green caterpillar that crawled on top of it.

"Wow, look at that! Good job, sweetheart. What are you going to do with him now?"

She was so engrossed in deciphering Clara's broken sentences that when Merle yelled on his way back to his side of camp Beth just about jumped out of her skin.

"Careful there, Darlina! I'm sure the rule of no staring at the princess applies to you too. One of us has to keep our nuts to carry on the Dixon name. Can't deprive the next generation now can we?"

Beth's head turned on instinct. So they were brothers? The youngest Dixon hastily ducked his head down when his brother called him out.

She could just make out the tips of his ears turn pink as he focused back on his work, never looking up again as he finished prepping the squirrels. Beth picked up Clara before moving over to Sue.

"That's the man from the other day?" she asked curiously.

Susan rested back into her chair and sighed, "Yeah, Daryl Dixon. And the other rather unsavory character is his brother, Merle. I'd suggest staying away from them—especially the older one. He's a scum bag and I don't trust him," she explained, jerking her chin in Merle's direction.

Merle and Daryl spoke in low tones to each other, and whatever Daryl muttered made Merle guffaw obnoxiously before picking up a squirrel from the pile, his body still shaking in silent laughter. While Merle looked mighty pleased with himself, Daryl was handling his knife with more vigor than he had earlier, the scowl on his face having deepened.

"What happened the other day, on the highway?" Beth inquired, turning back to Susan.

"Well, everything happened so fast after you got back into the car, yanno? The Dixon brothers showed up in the thick of it, and at first I would've thought they were just helping but, well, Merle over there, got more enjoyment taking out the walkers then just simply aiding us. And to be honest, I never saw Daryl till he was carrying you over the guardrail," Susan enlightened her, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

"So . . . they joined us."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Not exactly. If Glenn didn't have such a big mouth they wouldn't have. But it's history now anyways. Just, let's keep an eye on them, all right? I don't trust Merle as far as I could throw him, and his brother seems to do whatever Merle says so be aware."

"Hm, right," Beth answered absentmindedly while curiously peeking back at Daryl once more.

"Evening, y'all," Shane addressed with a nod. "I couldn't help but overhear the dispute before. Just makin' sure everythin's okay?"

"Everything is fine," Susan responded, rocking the baby.

Beth sat in front of their fire; occasionally stirring the pot of beans while Clara lay on the ground alongside her. The toddler was using weeds and grass to make their 'salad'. It wasn't as if there were any toys for her to play with, so Beth played along when Clara announced she would help make dinner.

It was a relatively calm night and they hadn't had one of those in some time. It was nice to imagine for a moment that they were just camping—delusional, but nice. Glenn, Jacqui, Louisa, and T-Dog had traveled over to the fire half an hour ago and it was normal up until Shane came over.

Sue said that everyone had joined forces so that meant evenly distributing the food. But that also meant that they were going to have to organize a scavenging party to get more, and soon. There were a lot of people in this camp so even with rationing they could be out by the end of the week.

Shane, having interrupted the moment, brought a reality check and Beth straightened her posture from the relaxed one she had before he arrived.

"Well, I wanted to discuss something with y'all," he said bending down to eye level. "It's just . . . everyone's sharing the food and the only ones not participating are the Dixons. That meat they caught isn't going to last, it's gonna spoil long before they can eat it. So Susan, I was wonderin' if you would talk to them with me? You seem like you can talk some sense into Merle, and he's the one I think is gonna be the problem."

Susan scoffed but got up regardless, handing the baby over to Jacqui. "I don't foresee this ending well, but I have to agree . . . on all accounts."

Together the duo headed over toward the Dixon's. Everyone, Beth included, was watching the conversation unfold intently. Unsurprisingly, Merle didn't sound too willing to share judging by the cussing and other rude expletives that were flying over there.

Beth nudged Glenn beside her, and waited for him to tear his eyes away from the argument. "What have they been like since they set up camp?"

"They've pretty much kept to themselves and then they were off on their hunt for the rest of the time," he said, swiveling back to the altercation. "Honestly, I don't think Merle likes being given orders by a cop," he commented idly.

Beth couldn't disagree with him; it wasn't a far-fetched notion to assume that Merle disliked authority. She didn't mean to profile, but they seemed to conform to the old male southern redneck type.

"Listen, you mind yours and I'll mind mine. Got it?" Merle spat at Shane. The former cop bristled at Merle's tone, and she could tell he was fighting to keep his cool with the gruff redneck. Susan grabbed Shane's arm and lightly shook her head, subtly pulling him back. No more words were exchanged while Susan continued to pull Shane back towards their camp, speaking to him in hushed tones.

With the argument appearing to be over the Dixon brothers settled back around their fire. Merle was grumbling under his breath while giving Shane's retreating back a nasty glare, but it was Daryl that caught her attention. He leisurely slipped the knife, that she never noticed he was clenching at his side, back into its sheath. Running his hand over his mouth, Daryl, like his older brother was intently watching Shane walk away, minus the sneer.

She was brought up short when his gaze swiftly moved to clash with hers, as if he felt her eyes on him. Beth could feel the blush spread across her cheeks, more than a little embarrassed at being caught staring, but what surprised her was that she wasn't the first to look away. Daryl hastily pivoted his attention onto the fire before picking at the meat he had cooked.

"So, I'm guessing they don't plan on sharing?" T-Dog stated bluntly.

Shane clenched his jaw in annoyance and nodded. "You'd guess correctly. Tomorrow, Susan has volunteered to make a scavenging run into Atlanta. We'll try to find more food and stock up as much as we can."

Glenn raised his hand impishly and looked at Susan. "I'll go with you, I know the city pretty well and it will be easier with just the two of us. In and out."

Susan sat back down in her chair. "Sounds like a plan."

"Why didn't you ask me to come with you? Why Glenn?" Beth asked vehemently.

Susan closed up the back of the truck and sighed, turning to finally face Beth. "Beth, you're still recovering from a nasty blow and the kids need you here. One of us will always have to stay at camp. Those kids are relying on you and me to protect them. That's why you're staying behind."

Beth followed Susan around to the front of the truck—Glenn was already sitting inside. She felt torn between wanting to stay in the safety of the camp with the kids and going on the run to get supplies and watch Susan's back.

What if Susan never came back? Her anxiety only rose when she realized she would never know what happened to Susan if she didn't return. Beth could only assume the worst.

"But . . ." she muttered.

"End of discussion," Susan ordered, eyeing her once more before jumping in the driver's seat. The rumble of the engine forced her to take a couple steps back and she watched forlornly as the truck grew smaller into the distance.

Shuffling back to her tent, she settled down next to Jacqui. The older woman gave her a sympathetic nudge. "Baby girl, don't you worry. She can take care of herself just fine."

Beth leaned back on her elbows and took a deep breath. "I know, I just . . . I guess . . . Oh, I don't know." A hush descended around them for a moment before she spoke up again, the epiphany of everything really hitting her. "This, this is our life now. The constant worry and fear, whether we'll even have food in a week . . ." Beth trailed off feebly. Flashes of Janice and her terrified screams echoed through her memory—a constant reminder of what almost happened to her a few days ago. "I don't want to end up being torn apart," she whispered grimly.

Jacqui didn't respond but she knew the older woman sympathized with that particular fear. It was something that would always be at the back of their minds—it was something they could never forget. Her thoughts finally came full circle, resting once again on Daryl. Beth still hadn't thanked him, not that 'thank you' amounted to much of anything these days. They were simply just words.

On the other hand, she did have something that could be appreciated. Jumping back to her feet, she headed over to the truck where they kept the food.

One of the many things she added to the food pile was her numerous cans of beans. Back in her apartment she really didn't do much cooking that wasn't out of a can or from the freezer, she never had the energy after one of her shifts. But at least she had a lot of nonperishable items for the end of the world. Snagging a can, Beth ignored the odd stares from the other campers and walked over to the Dixon tent.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she approached their patch of land, even though neither of the brothers were anywhere to be seen. She lightly tossed the can from one hand to the other while she contemplated just leaving it by the fire pit. However, there was no guarantee that someone else wouldn't just walk off with it.

Beth was just about to wait till Daryl came back when she caught sight of him exiting the woods a ways away. He sauntered down the dirt road with his crossbow slung across his back—probably heading towards the quarry. It seemed to be as good of a chance as ever to speak to him without Daryl acting like his older brother's shadow.

Not wanting to lose sight of him, she jogged back to Jacqui.

"Look after the kids for me for a sec?"

"Where are you going?"

Beth innocently shrugged her shoulders. "Please?"

The silence stretched for a second before Jacqui bobbed her head in acceptance, but her gaze clearly read disapproval. Not that that was going to stop her.


Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Walking Dead Universe—and its characters belongs to AMC and its creators. Similarities to the original characters or themes from the show and/or comics are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.


A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!