Author's Note: Yay, another chapter! The only thing I'm saying is that I'm not too knowledgeable of what happens when a teenager girls' body is malnourished and Daryl isn't either, so it works out. The words in italics are Daryl reading something... Wild guess at what that is... ^^grins^^ Please review! Thanks! And if you love the story, please share it with friends/fellow shippers/groups, etc. Thanks again!

Chapter 13

Daryl Dixon wasn't scared of nothin'. Or at least, he wasn't until he approached the bathroom door like a dumb ass; something he'd gladly take back if given the chance. Would have just told the girl to hush and he'd have gone back to sleep, none the wiser. But life wasn't easy for him, never had been and this was no exception. The girl was what? Almost 18 years old and had never started her rag? That just confused the hell out of him. Despite not knowing much about the opposite sex by any means, he at least knew that a girl was usually younger than 17 when she started ragging. Or at least, he told himself that.

He sighed in frustration, "Ya ain't dyin', girl. Just give me a minute."

"But Daryl! I'm bleeding!"

Biting his lip to keep himself from shouting at her, he grit his teeth and spoke, "Give me a damn minute, alright? I promise ya ain't dyin'!"

Waiting a few minutes to make sure she did keep quiet, he started pacing around the kitchen. 'Why tha' hell is this happenin' now?!' he asked himself, bringing his thumb to his mouth and biting at the nail anxiously. He wasn't equipped for this shit. Didn't know nothin' bout how a woman's' body worked.

He paced for about 5 more minutes before something occurred to him and he was hesitant to even think it. It made him extremely uncomfortable to even think the words. The girl had been with Shane since she was 11 years old and probably hadn't started it yet at that point. With the way that bastard was feeding her, she was more than likely starved for most of her years there and it was obvious when ya looked at her. When Daryl had cleaned her back, he could count her ribs easily. She was lucky to weigh 100lbs soaking wet and even then, he doubted she weighed that much. The only thing he could think of that would cause it was the way Shane fed (or didn't feed) her, making her go without most of the time, probably. He knew that as a teen, he was always shorter than everyone else and his growth spurt hadn't started until he started taking care of himself, not starving from his parents' not feeding him. It all clicked so easily that he wanted to hit himself for being so dumb and clueless.

The only problem now was actually telling the girl what was going on. He sure as hell wasn't gonna waltz into that bathroom and have that talk with her like some weirdo.

"Daryl, please!" He heard her whimper from the bathroom. He immediately felt sorry for her but still couldn't find it in himself to talk out-loud just yet. Instead, he cautiously approached the bathroom door like a man going to his execution with a firing squad. He cleared his throat, letting her know he was still there and sighed again.

"Ya gotta washcloth in there or somethin'?" he asked, praying to god she had one because he didn't want to open that door. He'd rather go outside and let a walker eat him alive. It sounded better. In theory, anyway. If Merle were here, he'd have so many frickin' innuendos at the ready, ready to make fun of him and call him 'Darlena' if he even mentioned the 'P' word.

He heard Beth fumbling around in the bathroom and waited none too patiently.

"I got one!" She sounded almost triumphant but still with a tone of fear lacing her voice.

"Put it down there, pull yer pants up and c'mon out here..." He said quickly, almost running away from the door and back to the living area where the couch sat. Not even tempted to sit down, he stood there and waited for her to come out.

When she did, her eyes were wide and fearful. She looked like someone had just killed her and brought her back from the dead, she was so pale. He almost became alarmed but figured the paleness was just from being scared to death. He motioned for her to sit down and when she did, he started pacing again.

"Daryl... what's wrong? You're scaring me..." She asked timidly, cracking her knuckles one by one, causing his nerves to grate.

"Nothins' wrong... Just tryin' ta figure out how to explain it s'all..." he mumbled, running his hands through his hair and tugging on the ends sharply, causing him to grimace in pain. She sat there, not saying a word so he took that as his cue to start pacing again.

"Yer mama or the woman ya were with never told ya bout

getting yer period?" When she shook her head, seeming confused, Daryl stopped and looked at her. "Ok... um... ya ever heard any of em' complainin' bout raggin' or anythin' bout blood?" She shook her head again and then a light bulb seemed to go off in her head.

"I know Ed got mad at Carol sometime durin' the month.. Sayin' that something that bleeds for 7 days oughta be dead. That it won't natural."

He nodded and resisted the urge to laugh but didn't. "Yea... that's what this is... It's what a girl does... once a month... Ya didn't do it cause ya didn't get fed like ya should've... Ya get it now?"

Beth nodded but still seemed embarrassed. "what do I do bout it?"

At that, Daryls' mouth went dry. He thought he was done, dammit! Holding up his finger and signaling her to wait a minute, he took off into the bathroom to plunder around. Doubting that he'd find anything useful, he didn't expect to find nothin' considerin' his old man never brought any women to the cabin, besides his momma in the early days. But lo' and behold, he found a box at the back of the sink cabinet, covered in dust. He saw the word 'tampon' and grabbed it, holding it like a lifeline. When he went back into the living room, he tossed the box to her like it had cooties on it.

"Here... yer spose to use those..." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and watched in shock as she pulled one of the offending items out and held it out, looking at him in confusion.

"What do I do with it? Put it in my underwear like the rag?" she asked, almost innocently and he wanted so damn badly to walk outside to shoot himself with his crossbow. He didn't think she'd appreciate that much, though. Walking up to her and taking the box, he searched for instruction papers and almost cried in relief when he found them.

"Here. This'll tell ya what ta do.. I'm done.." He started to walk away when he heard a sniffle and cringed when it got louder. "What's wrong now, girl?!" He couldn't help but get a little snappy. Being fed up with the whole situation had his nerves on edge and at the moment, he just wanted to shoot somethin'. Whether it be himself, a zombie or animal. He wasn't picky at this moment.

"I... I can't read all that good... I mean.. I learned some in school but not much.. and I cain't remember none of it.. I'm so stupid..." and at that, she started to cry, dropping the box beside her and holding her head in her hands.

Well now he just felt like a jackass.. A confused, irate, nervous and bordering on suicidal man who had no damn clue of what he was doing at the moment. Letting out a huge puff of air, he knew what he had to do and as much as he hated it, there wasn't any other option..

"Choose a comfortable position... Ya may want to sit on the toilet with yer knees apart or..." He read the rest of that sentence mentally and scowled. "Just keep ya knees apart... alright?" At her nod, he continued reading, "Relax your muscles in the va- oh hell no.. Not sayin' that word. Just relax, that's it. Remove the wrapper. Hold the inner tube firmly... What the hell is the inner tube?" He looked at the diagram fearfully, seeing that it was the skinny end.

"The skinny end is what they mean. Why tha' hell don't they just say that? Holy hell... Place your thumb and middle finger on the grips on the bottom of the skinny part. Place your index finger at the very end of tha inner tube at the bottom of the applicator..." He read mentally again, his eyes widening in shock once more. "What in the actual fuck? I'm not saying it, Beth."

She looked at him cluelessly, her blue eyes widening pleadingly, "Just read it, please... I can't make out the big words..."

Sighing awkwardly once again, he continued hesitantly and almost bitterly. "Use your fingers on your other hand to pull apart your skin on both sides of your v-v-vagina... God-dammit..."

"What's a vagina?"

At those words, Daryl knew once and for all he was about to lose it. Walk out of that fuckin' cabin and jump off of the nearest cliff, preferably before this whole situation happened. The moment she walked into that bathroom would've been perfect.

"It's whats' between ya legs!" he blurted, dropping the pamphlet and running his hands over his face tiredly, fed up already.

"Oh! A pussy!" At her words, he balked at her and didn't see any humor or a 'gotcha' look on her face. Only seriousness.

He almost asked her where she had heard that word but kept his mouth shut when he thought of Shane and the depraved things he probably had said to her, thinking better of it.

Clearing his throat and nodding, he continued "Now put the rounded tip at the opening. Point it toward your lower back and gently push into your... y'know... in the direction that it keeps goin'... until yer fingers touch ya body.. or legs... whatever.. Push the end of the skinny part until it's all the way inside the big part... Then pull both parts out... There. That's it. Ya get it?" She nodded. "Go ahead and go, then. No ones stoppin' ya."

Beth retreated to the bathroom with a tampon in hand and when he heard the door click, Daryl threw the pamphlet as far as it would go. He wanted that damn piece of paper nowhere near him anytime ever again. If he knew they'd never need it again, he would've burned it to a crisp for good measure. Shaking his hands out as if he had the heebie jeebies, he walked around doing the same with his legs. 'Never again.. Fuck that shit.. Buncha bullshit... Why couldn't there have been god-damn pads in the damn bathroom instead of fuckin' tampons?' He mumbled to himself, looking up towards the sky as if a higher power would answer him.

Hearing the bathroom door open, he was almost afraid to look in fear that she'd need some other kind of advice. "Theres' a string on it so... I think I know how ta' get it back out.. I actually done it, Daryl!" She seemed excited and proud of herself, approaching him quickly and engulfing him into a hug. He stood there stock still, not moving his arms from his sides, feeling almost painstakingly uncomfortable. "Thanks so much, Daryl!"

Deciding he had almost as much as he could take for the day, he pulled away abruptly and stalked to the front door, grabbing his crossbow. He regarded her briefly.

"Where ya goin'?" She asked, almost dejectedly.

"Huntin'. I gotta shoot somethin' before ya start paintin' my fuckin' nails! Lock the door behind me! And keep tha' knife ready!"

With those words, he exited the cabin and hoped that he hadn't left the girl feeling bad but he had to get the hell away from that cabin for at least a few hours.