A/N: Woot, another chapter done and up! Thank you guys so much for all the reviews/favs/follows! I'm thrilled that so many people are enjoying this! Please keep them coming, it makes my day every time I get a new alert in my inbox! :D
Her fingers drummed a rhythm against her thigh as they walked, her head twisting so that she could keep her eyes roving the woods. It wasn't a long trek, but the feeling of being watched was prickling the back of her neck. Maybe it was knowing that Morgan was still out here.
Morgan…
He'd never said before and she'd never asked. Another name. That made three. She was sure of three now, including her own. There were others, she was sure of that, too, but these specific three were what she felt was important right then. As she kept pace with Daryl, she mouthed her own name to herself. Beth. Her nose wrinkled. It tasted strange in her mouth, like it didn't quite fit with other things she knew. She tried again. Beth. No, it was still odd. Beth.
Beth!
The back of her head throbbed and she lifted a hand to rub at it gingerly. Daryl gave her a sidelong look, but she just slowly shook her head, her lips pressing together tightly. Alright, enough of that. There were plenty of things out here to get them killed, none of which needed any help.
But the thoughts churning in her mind weren't easy to put away. They crept into her head like foxes slinking around the hen house, pulling at her attention, making her want to stop and consider them. It didn't help that they were closing in on the wall. That awful scent was slipping back into her nose, making her jittery. Her fingers sped up their tapping, her thumb stretching out to slid along the thick hilt of her knife. The closer they got, the more her instincts screamed at her to bolt in the opposite direction. Not safe. Those two words were like a mantra in her mind.
Her eyes darted over Daryl's back with a deep frown. The way he'd called to her - it'd been so familiar. It'd tugged at fragments of memory she hadn't realized that she possessed, pulled them together to give her another piece from before. They'd run together, hunted together, survived. She remembered that, or parts of it anyway.
Moonshine burning her mouth as she swallowed it down, trying to not let it touch her tongue as he chuckled dryly at the face she made.
Daryl grabbing her arm as they bolted through the trees, shoving her back and slamming his crossbow across a walker's jaw.
Tracking a rabbit's path all day as he muttered lessons to her gruffly.
"I'm not gonna leave you!"
Her gaze fell to the tan sheath at his hip and she recognized it, absently running the pad of her thumb over the black one hanging at her belt. How had he gotten it? Had she given it to him? She couldn't imagine him taking it. Which brought another question; how had they been separated? How had they even met? As soon as his name had occurred to her, it felt as though she'd always known him. Was that true? She wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't form on her tongue. And that confused her too, because she couldn't understand why she wanted to ask. Why wasn't important, was it? It hadn't been, she didn't think. Or had it? The questions were frustrating.
Beth tried to once again dismiss them as they approached a section of the wall. Daryl grunted as he dropped the deer to the ground and banged his fist against the thin metal. She stood just behind him, tipping her head back, listening. Those sounds from before were drifting over the top of the gate, distorted but clear enough. They seemed loud to her, completely out of place.
Squealing and unhurried, the solid gate started to roll open, revealing a second, slightly smaller one made of thick bars. The first one stopped with a shudder and a sharp clang. Two men stood behind it, assault rifles balanced in their hands. Beth looked them over and snorted. Their knuckles were white on the stocks and she could even see that one of them's fingers were quivering slightly as he set them near the trigger.
Sheep playing at being intimidating. She could almost smell their anxiety.
Daryl glanced back towards her, the corner of his mouth quirking up, as if he knew what she was thinking.
"Brought dinner again?" one of them asked, taking a step towards the gate and Beth's gaze narrowed on him.
Oh, this one thought he was something special. There was a glint in his dark eyes as he looked at Daryl. Resentment - she could feel it from where she stood at Daryl's shoulder, like he had something to prove. Assumed dominance too. The way he stood, his arms bowed out and his legs braced wide, shoulders thrust back; like a bullfrog making itself bigger and scarier than it actually was to whatever it thought was the threat.
And meanwhile the crane slipped behind it and swallowed the fool thing whole.
Daryl made a low, impatient sound in his throat as he held the deer by its back feet. He didn't answer, just jerked his head towards the fence. "You wanna jaw or you wanna let us in t'clean the damn thing so we can eat tonight?"
The man rolled his shoulders, as if he was trying to relax, but the tight set of his shoulders and the grip he had on that gun was telling Beth a different story. She paid no attention to what was actually being said, bracing her palms against her hips, the tip of her fingernail touching her knife.
"Didn't see you come through earlier."
Daryl didn't miss a beat. "'Cause I didn't."
"You know we got these walls up for a reason," came the reply, lazy, but carrying an undertone that had pricked Beth's ears as he tapped the barrel of his rifle against the bars. "And a gate." His smile was derisive. "Know what the difference between the two is?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret. "Gate's for walkin' through. Wall's to keep shit out."
Or in, she thought to herself, letting her eyes shift to the left and right for a second. They snapped back when Daryl grunted, his eyes pinning the other man pointedly. "Ain't workin'."
They stared at one another for a long moment. Beth watched Daryl carefully, noting the lack of tension in Daryl's stance. He wasn't looking at a threat. She glanced at the other man. He was. His hand tightened on his gun, his index finger inching towards the trigger as the two men stared one another down. Beth chanced to look at the second man, noticing how he took a step to the side. Instinct took over and she mirrored him, stepping out from behind Daryl, deliberately brushing herself against his arm as she did so, letting him know through touch what she was doing. The man froze, but she didn't, strolling the length of the gate in easy, measured steps.
"Who's she?"
Daryl grunted. "Family."
There was a pause. "She wasn't with the rest of you."
Beth heard him make another low sound, felt the weight of his eyes on her as she turned and walked back towards him. "Ain't none of yer damned business where she was. She's here now."
Another stretch of silence. Beth ignored it, keeping her gaze focused on the man behind the first as she slowly paced in front of the gate. Her stare unnerved him, she could tell. He was fidgeting, twitchy, his eyes darting to avoid eye contact, to avoid even looking at her. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the coolness in the air, and his handle on that gun just kept getting that much tighter.
Sheep.
"Deanna's gonna need to talk to her," the man said grudgingly.
Daryl's voice was blunt, uncompromising. "Nothin' to talk about."
"Rick might disagree."
She saw Daryl lean forward even as he braced an arm casually against the edge of the first gate. "Then go get him."
It was a blatant dismissal, and he didn't miss it, his head snapping back and his nostrils flaring. He opened his mouth like he was going to shoot something back. It pissed her off. Beth made a low, impatient noise in the back of her throat, a growled warning as she stalked up and down the gate. It caught both men's attention and she felt a small thrill of satisfaction as the second one's foot intuitively slid back.
The first one finally said gruffly, "Fine. Wait here."
"Like we're gonna go somewhere else," she heard Daryl mutter as he settled himself more comfortably against the fence.
The two men exchanged a meaningful look and the second one nodded as the first backed up a couple of steps before turning on his heel and marching up the street Beth could see stretching back into the compound. She didn't break stride as she slinked back and forth, her wide blue eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the man standing shiftily behind the gate. She was half-tempted to snap towards it and bare her teeth just to watch him jump. Wouldn't have been any point to it though, other than her own amusement.
Beth almost gave into the urge when he looked at Daryl and said, "Tell your friend to quit starin' at me like that."
He snorted as he patted his shirt pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. "Quit yer frettin', Nick, she ain't gonna bite ya." She saw him cut his eyes towards her in her periphery. "S'long as ya don' get too close."
There was something in the way he said it that puzzled her, a nuance that she couldn't quite put her finger on. And when she glanced at him, the corner of his mouth was quirked up again, like he was laughing.
Then she realized that he was, in a way. Teasing, she thought. He was teasing her.
Yer heavier than you look.
The words came flying back to her and her steps almost faltered. How had she forgotten about something like that? Because there'd been no room for it, she answered herself. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable, like she was missing something. How did she answer? Did she? Should she react in some way? Wasn't there something that she was supposed to do? Yes, she knew that. It tickled at the back of her head, made it throb a little as she blindly groped in her mind for what that was. She couldn't remember...
It was a relief to hear the telltale stumbling tread of a walker, its guttural groans bouncing between the trees and across the clearing. Without a thought, Beth moved towards it, taking a position just a couple of feet from the gate and waited. The corpse staggered through the grass, its speed increasing as it caught her scent. Silently, she eased her knife from its sheath, instinctively adjusting her stance as she watched it lunge closer. Slipping between its grasping arms, she sank her knife into its soft flesh, piercing the skull. There was rustling to her left. Reflexively jerked her weapon free and twisted, blond hair whipping out. She changed her grip on the hilt mid-swing, viciously stabbing the blade into the second walker's temple. The thing crumpled like a dropped sack and Beth leaned down to wipe the blade off on its tattered shirt.
When she turned back around, Daryl was watching her, his eyes narrowed intently. A warm tingle drifted up her spine as they swept over her.
"You said you could take care of yourself. You did."
The words drifted through her mind as she walked back towards him, her wide blue eyes fixed on his face, his cigarette clenched in the corner of his mouth. She tried to interpret what his expression was - approval, maybe something else? She wasn't entirely sure, so she let her gaze drop slightly to take in his body language. His arms were folded loosely across his chest, his hands neither near the knives at his belt nor holding his crossbow. One boot was crossed over the other, relaxed...but not. The muscle of his jaw was tight. The lines around his eyes had deepened too. His shoulders were set a little forward. Beth glanced at his face.
There was something about his expression. It drew her, made her want to move towards him, as if pulled. Beth kept walking, studying him and sort of feeling as though he was studying her in turn. What was that look? She didn't know. Or, it was more like she did, but didn't have the word for it. Morgan had never given her that sort of look. Had she seen it before? Maybe? Perhaps not, though. Daryl didn't move as she came near, his eyes intense and focused on her, tracing her features.
As she came to a stop in front of him, she heard footsteps rapidly approaching, hard fast clops against concrete and pulling her attention. Tearing her eyes from his, Beth turned her head to see two people she didn't recognize quickly striding up to the gate, a clean-shaven man and a woman with a sword strapped across her back.
Beth glanced one more time towards Daryl, uncertain, and found that he was still looking at her. When their eyes met again, he pushed off from the gate, reaching down for the deer.
"C'mon," he rasped, his voice rough. "Told ya there'd be people happy t'see ya."
