Author's Note: I don't own anything you recognize.
Judith squirmed in Beth's arms as she watched the yard from the porch. The more physically strong members of the group had started building a small fence with things they had salvaged over our journey. The sun shone down, warming the young girl's pink cheeks. The air was comfortable in the morning, but she knew it wouldn't last long as soon as the afternoon settled in. Soon, the gravel lane cutting through the forest would grow hazy, ripples of heat dancing at its distant end.
Beth's hair hung loose on her shoulders, the wavy blonde locks glinting in the sunshine. She hadn't had time to do her hair since everyone was so busy that morning, and someone needed to watch Judy. Beth gave her a little bounce as the baby gazed at her father working in the yard.
"Want me to watch Judith?" asked Carol as she came to stand beside the blonde.
"For a bit, if you don't mind," she said.
Carol smiled, speaking lovingly to Judy as Beth handed the child over.
She went back inside the house where Tara, Rosita, and Bob were dusting off some of the furniture with old rags. Upstairs in Glenn, Maggie, and Beth's bedroom, she rummaged through her backpack until she found a hair band. Standing in front of the dirty mirror, she watched her fingers running through her hair, trying to get some of the tangles out. She took three sections of hair, carefully weaving them into a thin braid. She tucked the braid into her hair band as she gathered all her hair into a ponytail. She felt like doing this style everyday gave her some shred of normality to hang onto.
Movement outside the window caught Beth's eye as Daryl passed underneath it on his way to the front yard. The glass was warm against her forehead as she leaned against the window to watch him. Sweat glistened on his arms as he swiped his scraggly bangs from his eyes. Sunlight illuminated his chiseled edges, making him look like some sort of angel.
A knock on the door startled her, making her forehead hit the glass as she jumped. She winced at the sharp pain, turning around to see Maggie standing in the doorway.
"We found somethin' I think you'll like in the backyard," she said. "Wanna come see?"
Beth followed her sister down the stairs, down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the back door. She hadn't been in the backyard yet. It had no fence around it, and backed up into the thick forest which surrounded the house. One tree stood closer to the back porch, isolated from the other mass of trees. It's branches sprawled out from one another, each one gliding along the ground before curving up towards the sky. Its red bark matched the little bench wedged in the middle of all of the limbs.
Beth went to the tree, sitting on the bench and leaning against another low-hanging branch. Grass tickled her bare feet as she lightly swung them back and forth.
"Like it?" asked Maggie as she sat down beside her.
'I love it," she said. The red paint on the wooden bench was peeling, leaving patches of wood shining through. A rusting nail sat uneven in the board with one side bent up. Someone, some human, had built this themselves back when the world was right. They might've built the bench as a little project one Saturday afternoon. They might've let their kids, or grandkids, help build it. It was just a bench. But it was so much more.
Beth looked up to notice Daryl watching her from the side yard. He quickly looked away, busying himself with his work. He was too far away for her to be able to see if his cheeks were turning red, but, from personal experience, she guessed that they were.
Before she could smile to myself, Beth was distracted by a faint ringing from behind her. She turned to find the source of the high-pitched ringing, but saw only the green foliage of the forest.
"Do you hear that?" she asked, the sound not fading.
"No, I don't hear anythin'," said Maggie, not truly focusing on what her sister was saying.
Beth watched the trees for a moment, finally deciding that it was just her ears ringing. However, in the world she was living in, you could never be too careful. Everything was potentially terrifying.
Heading back towards the front of the house, Beth separated from Maggie as she went to Glenn, who was watching the yard from the front porch. His arm was still wrapped in a cloth, the pink stain growing smaller and fainter with every day. He was healing; it was a slow process, but a process nonetheless. He threw Beth a wink before he turned to Maggie.
Daryl looked up from his work on the fence. A sort of partition was slowly forming along the front of the yard, with large spikes of wood shooting out towards the road. Once it was done, any walkers that tried to get through to the house would be stabbed by the knife-like lumber.
"I think the fence is comin' along pretty well," he commented as Beth came to stand beside him.
She nodded. "Where'd you get the wood from?"
He nodded his head towards the side, gesturing behind him. "We salvaged what we could from the shed out back," he said. "We'll probably need more."
"I wish we could go back to the prison," Beth said.
"You don't like the house?" asked Daryl, squinting in the sun as he looked at her.
"No, I love the house," she said. "I just miss the security we had."
Daryl nodded, turning away. "At least we're all together," he said. "What's left of us." Knowing she was thinking of her father, he glanced at Beth and hesitantly put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't need to say anything; his hand said enough.
Beth retreated from the sticky air into the somewhat-less-hot house and grabbed a rag to help Bob, Tara, and Rosita dust. Taking over the front bedroom, she smiled to herself as she remembered killing the walker right where she was standing. At that moment, the room had seemed so dark and menacing. Now, with the sunlight streaming in through the window, and the floral quilt draped across the end of the bed, the room was calming and quaint. She took her rag to the bed rail, carefully wiping away all the visible dust. It was times like these that made her heart ache for a bottle of Windex.
When the evening clouds rolled in, blacking out any starlight that might've illuminated the Georgia woods, everyone settled in at the table in the dining room. Sitting between Maggie and Carol, Beth watched as Rick brought in a dead, mangled animal lacking any fur.
"It's not much, but it's somethin'," said Rick, setting the creature in the middle of the table. "Thanks, Daryl."
From the left of Rick, Daryl nodded his head, acknowledging the group's thanks. He peered at Beth from behind his stringy bangs, and she gave him a small smile. He looked away, busying himself with helping Rick distribute some of the fatty meat.
Beth's heart warmed every time she saw Daryl interacting like this with the other members of the group. She knew he thought he was worthless, but she hoped that on nights like this, when they were all gathered together, laughing and talking, he would see that he was a vital member of their family. They were a family, after all.
Everyone's laughter wafted through the candlelit room with the smell of the carcass as Glenn told a story from his days as a pizza delivery man. Beth listened eagerly to his words, leaning forward to see around Maggie, watching Glenn's facial expressions as he told his story. When something he said triggered an outburst of laughter from the table, Beth tried to capture each person's smile, for some she had never seen before. She felt her spirit soar higher watching the others shake with laughter.
The moment was so simple, and she was completely happy.
After the meal was cleaned up, everyone began to disperse, heading to their rooms to turn in for the night. Beth said a brief goodnight to Tara and Rosita in the narrow hallway, turning onto the staircase. She was met by Daryl, who nearly ran into her. His ankle slipped off the edge of the step he stood on, causing himself to tip forward. His left hand flew to her shoulder, while his right flew to the banister. Beth threw her arms around his waist, squealing as she realized how he could squish her if they fell. However, he quickly regained his balance, laughing nervously as he relieved Beth of his weight and stood back up.
"You okay?" she asked, laughing as well.
Daryl nodded, a haze of pink showing through his scruff. He gave her a small smile as only his eyes looked up from his feet, and he cleared his throat. "You looked like you were pretty happy tonight," he said, changing the subject. "You were smilin' ear to ear."
"I guess I was just feelin' thankful for everybody," Beth replied. Her smile faded as she started to speak again, letting out a risky thought. "Daryl… I was wonderin' about somethin'. Back at the funeral home, you suggested that we settle down there. Tonight, watchin' everybody so happy, I was just thinkin' how I could never give up on… this. On any of these people."
Daryl looked straight at her, his eyes filling with cold hurt. "You think I gave up on 'em?"
"No, well, I don't know-"
"You think I didn't wanna find everybody? I didn't wanna get this back?"
"Daryl, I just thought that I couldn't bear settlin' down, knowin' that my family could still be alive out there." She heard defiance strengthening in her own voice.
He leaned in closer to her, his voice a raspy whisper. "It wasn't my choice to feel like there was nothin' I could do," He nudged her arm out of his way, and stormed into the living room, leaving her standing alone, struggling to push down the stinging lump in her throat.
Rushing up the stairs, Beth vigorously fought the burning sensation in her nose as her sight grew blurry. She ignored the loud creaking of each step, racing towards her cozy spot at Glenn and Maggie's feet. Once she had pulled her blanket over her head, her mind released her thoughts, which swarmed like bees. Why did she tell Daryl she thought he'd given up? Right when she broke through his walls, she blindly handed him the cement to build them back up again.
"Beth."
A hand lightly shook the drowsy girl's shoulder.
"Beth,' whispered the voice again.
She jumped back as she opened her eyes into Daryl's. He stood close to the end of the bed, leaning close to her face. "What're you doin'?" She whispered.
Daryl glanced up apprehensively at Maggie and Glenn, who were still sleeping soundly, their bodies facing each other and curved together. "I was wonderin' if you wanted to go huntin' with me."
"I thought you were mad at me," Beth said quietly.
Daryl looked away for a moment. "Jus'... c'mon. If you want."
She furrowed her brow at his cryptic answer, looking back at her sister curled up beside Glenn. "Alright," she agreed, quietly slipping out from under her blanket and stepping down from the bed onto the cool, hardwood floor.
"Get dressed," said Daryl. "I'll meet you downstairs."
She followed him out of the bedroom after grabbing a change of clothes, but turned into the upstairs bathroom rather than following him down the staircase. She closed the door carefully, trying in vain to soften the click of it shutting. The heather light of morning faintly illuminated the cramped bathroom as it shone in through a small stained glass window above the clawfoot tub. Balancing her folded t-shirt and jeans on the edge of the sink, she pulled her clothes off, momentarily leaving them bunched on the honeycomb tile floor. Once she had her new clothes on, and had her hair up in its usual ponytail and braid, she took her bunched up clothes from the night before and folded them neatly. She knew it was somewhat trivial to fold clothes during times like these, but it was something so simple left from the old world. Things like that were thin threads she was barely holding onto in a wind storm.
After meeting Daryl on the front porch, Beth walked slightly behind him as he led them into the woods. She kept her hand on the knife in her pocket, prepared to pull it out quickly in case of an encounter with a walker. Daryl kept his crossbow at the ready as he used his free hand to push back the bracken.
Beth decided to cut the obvious tension between them. "I'm sorry about accusin' you of givin' up," she said gently.
Daryl kept on walking, not looking back at her. "You were right," he said.
"I was?"
"I wanted to settle down at the funeral home, an' stop lookin' for the others," said Daryl. "But I'd given up on 'em a long time before that."
"You were just bein' realistic, Daryl," she whispered.
"You never lost faith that the others were still alive, Beth."
"I was bein' naive."
"How were you naive if you turned out to be right?" asked Daryl, finally stopping to look at her. "The others were alive. Your faith…it worked."
She tried not to break Daryl's harsh eye contact. He turned away from her, continuing on.
"I'm not mad," murmured Daryl.
"I'm still sorry."
"So am I." With that, Daryl glanced back to give her a small smile, which she returned.
After nearly ten minutes of tracking, Daryl abruptly threw out his arm in front of Beth before putting his finger to his lips. Beth looked towards where his eyes were focused, noticing a small squirrel sitting beside an unkempt bush.
As Daryl aimed his crossbow, he stepped gingerly with his right foot, carefully pulling back the trigger. Before an arrow could fly from the weapon, he quickly pulled his arm from the bow, wincing and shaking his hand. The squirrel darted away, scuttling off through the underbrush. Daryl put his put his trigger finger up to his mouth, sucking on it. "Finger slipped. Dang trigger cut me."
"Let me see," Beth said, moving towards him. She pulled his hand from his mouth to see a wine colored drop of blood slowly slithering down his pointer finger. "Does it hurt?" She asked as she examined the minor wound.
Daryl scoffed and shook his head. "That lil' cut? Don't even matter. Let's move on."
She stopped him before he could turn away. "No, it could get infected," she said. "We should wash it off, just to be safe."
Daryl sighed. "Alright. C'mon, I found a creek while I was huntin' for our supper from last night. You can fix me up there."
She followed him through the thicket, helping to push away the dense brush and unruly branches. The wavering murmur of the wind was soon accompanied by the soft bubbling of frothy water bouncing over rocks as we emerged beside a narrow creek. Tiny ruby colored flowers sprinkled the ground beside the water, and tall lavender wildflowers grew across the way.
Beth sat down beside Daryl, who watched her with a shadow of a smile and a glint in his eyes as she rinsed the blood off his finger. Pink water ran off of her hand as she rubbed the cut with her thumb.
"Seems like you've been playin' doctor a lot lately," said Daryl.
"I like to help out in any way I can," she said. "I'm not real physically strong, but there are other important strengths the group needs."
"Like somebody with a good head on their shoulders," said Daryl.
She glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. He smiled slightly at her, and she smiled back. His cut was perfectly clean, but she kept rubbing his finger with her thumb, slowly drawing circles on his coarse skin.
In the steadily brightening early morning light, their silence was penetrated by a familiar shrill ringing. It was the same ring which Beth heard sitting out on the tree bench with Maggie, but louder. She met Daryl's concerned gaze as the ring grew louder and more deafening.
Then, it was all gone.