Chapter Fourteen
Then
True to the Governor's word, jobs are found for them the next day.
Beth's going to be helping out in the storehouse and commissary, organising rations and cooking for those who can't do for themselves. Daryl's been posted on watch on the wall, free to hunt when he's not rostered on duty.
Beth can't help but feel nervous, to know that she'll be spending the day apart from him. It might have only been four months that they've been on their own, but it feels like it's been just about forever. The last time she was left on her own... But she won't think about that, that was a different place, different people to the ones here.
In the end there's nothing to fear. Daryl walks her to the commissary, where she meets her new coworkers, a group of women who exclaim over her when they find out she's been on the road for the last few months. They're curious to the point of prying, and Beth finds herself missing Daryl's simple, solid presence as she gets through the day. They've never felt the need to trade words between them only for the sake of it, and she realises that she's become used to that now, to only talking when there's truly something to say.
Woodbury though, seems to think there's still a need for small talk.
She exits once her shift is done to find Daryl waiting, leaning against a nearby post, his crossbow over one shoulder and a scowl on his face as if to deter anyone from starting a conversation.
His face relaxes as soon as he sees her, and Beth breaks into a grin, unable to help it when there's this feeling bubbling up inside her, this sudden sharp happiness. She doesn't try to hide it, and there's an answering quirk to Daryl's lips, a look in his eyes before he ducks his head.
"C'mon, let's get out of here." He tells her, hand coming up to touch her arm as if to guide her forward.
"Where? Do I need anything?"
"Nah," his lips quirk once more, "We're not going far, and I've got everything we need."
/
They go beyond the community's walls, not heading far, just into the woods up a little ways. Beth wonders if they're tracking game, but instead it just seems as if Daryl's searching for a good spot, stopping once they've found one.
He hasn't asked her how her day was, not here in the quiet of the forest. Beth figures he thinks she'll tell him later, over the dinner of rations they'll share.
Daryl makes a sign for her to wait, then goes forward to a tree, carving an X into it before he returns to her side. He squints at it for a moment as if sighting the distance, then abruptly he's shrugging off the strap of his crossbow, thrusting it towards her unceremoniously. "Here."
"You're gonna teach me?" She can't stop the excitement from rising in her voice. She's been wondering how to ask him the last few months, as he's gradually taught her everything else he knows. Beth knows that she has no real chance of loading the bow all by herself, but that doesn't stop her from wanting to learn to shoot it all the same.
Daryl shrugs, "Figured it was time. If you're any good then we'll look out for something that's more your size. Best weapon for hunting, good too if you want to be quiet."
He holds the weapon out to her, and she takes it, feels the weight of it in her hands before raising it hesitantly, glancing at Daryl to see him considering her, noting her stance and how she holds the crossbow. He rubs his chin as if in deep thought, fingers passing back and forth across the scruff there.
"Need to hold it higher," he grunts, without moving forward to correct her, and Beth tries to comply. "Now just a little thataway..." he's telling her, when Beth cuts him off with an eye roll.
"Why don't you just show me, Daryl?"
He looks startled for a moment, and Beth swears his skin reddens, his gaze suddenly fixed on the ground, but he approaches her anyway.
His fingers are deft and light, never lingering too long as he corrects her grip, shows her the level at which the crossbow should be, and the proper way to sight down it. He uses his foot to nudge her ankles, pushing her legs into the proper stance.
Beth can't help but think of all those movies she'd watched, of the hero using the excuse of teaching the heroine something as an opportunity to touch her, of breaching distances in a moment.
That isn't them though, that's never been what this has been about.
Daryl raises one of her wrists slightly, and his hand lingers upon her for just a moment, just a moment longer than it normally would, and Beth wonders if he's had the same thought, if he's wishing he was the type of man who would take such an excuse.
And would she want him to if he did? Would she welcome those touches if he was to make them, would she lean into them, trying to prolong them just a little longer?
She doesn't know, but she's certain that if he was to try, she wouldn't turn away.
"Right then, let's get started." Daryl's statement is one long exhale, a breath held for far too long and then released.
Her first shot goes wide, as does her second and third. Daryl doesn't judge though, or berate her, he simply watches and gives her advice, tells her how to correct this aspect or that. The fourth shot she actually hits the tree, though the fifth goes wide again.
By the time the light begins to dim, she's consistently hitting the tree, though she's yet to get anywhere near the X.
Daryl glances up at the sky then holds his hand up in a gesture today. "Done enough for today, time to head back." He pauses, waits while she hands the crossbow over and until he's shouldered it, waits until he's turned himself away to pick up the used bolts, "Reckon you've done real good."
She glows at the words, knowing how hard won they are. A month ago he might never have spoken them at all, that's how far they've come together.
They're turning back towards Woodbury when there's the sound of a twig snapping, and a familiar face steps into view.
Beth notices the step that Daryl takes forward as if unconsciously placing himself in front of her, the way his shoulders are set.
"Well, well, well, if it ain't little brother and his lady love, out for a little stroll in the woods." Merle comments, his gaze a deliberate leer. "She finally give it up to you, out here against a tree, or are you still being a pansy about it?"
"Shut up Merle, stop being a dumbass." Daryl growls, and by the way he keeps his face turned from hers, Beth knows he's embarrassed. "What are you doing out here anyway?"
"Keeping an eye on you." Merle states pointedly, "Think the Governor was just going to let you go wandering off wherever you wanted? Think again, little brother. You step outside these walls, you'll have someone following behind you. Make sure you're not sneaking off to report back to some other camp - steal this place from under him."
"He's really that paranoid?" Beth asks, frowning.
"That and more. Enough time passes and you two pass his little trust test, maybe Daryl here will end up in the inner circle, get promoted to higher duties."
"That something we want?" Daryl asks.
Merle shrugs, trudging alongside them as they make their way back. "Never a good thing to come to his notice, but you two have already gone and done that. He decides to make you one of his men though, you'd better be prepared for what you've got to do."
Beth isn't sure she wants to know what the Governor's men have got to do to earn their place. Daryl hasn't shied away from dirty work in the past, has been willing to step up when Rick needed him. She still remembers that boy in the barn, she knows at least a little of what happened then. That was different though, that was to keep them safe, to serve a higher cause. Rick - from what little she'd known of him, Rick was a leader they all could have followed, and she can understand why Daryl would be willing to get his hands dirty for him. The Governor though... Beth doesn't know enough about him yet, but what they've heard from Merle so far isn't inspiring her to do the same.
/
The days pass, and every day it grows colder.
They fall into a new routine, in the same almost easy way they've always fallen into every one before that. Daylight breaks and they each wake up to prepare for their day, climbing out of a tangle of sheets and blankets. If Beth has shifted closer to him during the night seeking warmth, then Daryl never comments on it, never acknowledges it at all.
The first person to get ready is also the one to prepare breakfast, and it varies depending on the day. Twice a week they receive their ration of eggs from the town's hens, and those are the best days.
Then it's off to work, as Daryl drops her to the commissary before he joins his own post, or heads out to check the snares if he's scheduled on for later. The end of the day and either he'll be waiting outside for her when she gets off, or Beth will make her own way home, to wait for his arrival.
She could go elsewhere, make friends, or find some other activity, but it still doesn't feel quite right to her. Beth knows these can never be their people, and in the time they've been on the road they've both gotten too used to their own company. So she goes to their apartment and locks the door behind her, and uses the time to read, or prepare their dinner, or just to sit and think, singing softly to herself.
It becomes their life, and it's not so bad. They're safe and they're warm and they're well fed, and at the end of the day there's Daryl at the door, calling out for her to let him in, giving her that look that he sometimes does. Not a smile exactly, but an acknowledgement, and a question, checking to see if she's well after the day spent apart.
Beth has come to wait for that look, for the weight of his eyes on her, his considering gaze.
And so for all Merle's warnings, they're yet to encounter anything of concern. Neither of them have attracted the Governor's notice, though they know they're still watched on the days they go beyond the wall. Beth has grown better in the fortnight that has passed since they've begun, her aim better and quicker than what it was. Twice now, Daryl has allowed her to take down a passing walker with the bow. The first time she had wasted her attempt and needed to finish it with her knife, the second time her shot had been true.
They don't see much of Merle, keeping to themselves as they do, though on the days he's tasked with tailing them, he'll come over to speak. She usually excuses herself, not because he makes her uncomfortable, but to allow Daryl some privacy. They talk in low voices, Daryl's eyes darting to her occasionally, and Beth knows that there's things about this place he's not telling her. He's purposefully keeping her in the dark so that they might see out the winter here, without her worrying.
It should annoy her, have her calling him out on it, challenging him that she can handle it too. Beth understands though, she knows why Daryl feels the need to do so. He hasn't told her everything, has told her almost nothing in fact, of what he was before they met, but she's picked up on things along the way. She knows it by the snatches of childhood stories, by everything he hasn't said. He's seen so much darkness, fought his way through it without allowing it to overcome him, with nobody but himself to keep him safe.
And now there's her, and although Beth might not know exactly what Daryl thinks about her, she knows that he considers her his to protect. That maybe he hopes he can do for her what was never done for him. She'll allow him that, she can still be his partner while letting him protect her in his own way. Beth can see the way it's been changing Daryl, the trust she places in him, and she thinks it seems like a good thing, a right thing.
She can see how it's helping him to step out from his brother's shadow.
If Daryl learned from an early age to turn inwards to protect himself, remaining apart from the world, then Merle coped instead by challenging it, always with an eye to the next fight, never able to let down his guard.
Now here Beth is, under the protection of one brother while the other still can't decide what to make of her. Merle knows that something has changed, he can sense it in Daryl, in the way he doesn't follow as easily as he once would've. Merle doesn't understand it though, he can't, when he's never known it himself. So he challenges, and comments, and tries to put it in terms that he can understand.
No, Merle doesn't make Beth uncomfortable, as much as he might try, but he does make her a little sad.
/
Daryl is on late watch when there's a knock at the apartment door, an unexpected occurrence.
There's a moment of worry, fear that something might have happened to him, but Beth steels herself, picking up her knife as she walks forward, peering out of the peephole before she opens it.
Merle is lounging against the door frame, and Beth shuts the door quickly behind him once he's inside.
"Daryl's not here, but he should be back in a bit. Do you want some food while you wait?" Beth offers.
Merle whistles softly through his teeth, "Well look at you, all Southern hospitality and sweet as peach pie. No wonder Daryl keeps you around, even if you do think you're too good to at least suck his cock, after all he's done for you."
Beth knows he's expecting her to cringe away from his crudeness, but she doesn't back down, instead she holds Merle's gaze as she replies slowly and deliberately. "No, I think he's too good for it."
He sneers at her, laughs, a low rumble in his throat. "You're still a little girl if you believe that. Think there's a man alive that doesn't want to get his rocks off? Wouldn't want your sweet ass? Maybe my brother's being a saint, giving himself blue balls and not asking for what he's owed, but you can be sure he wants it all the same. You're the one not giving it up."
Beth squares her chin, looks Merle straight in the eye before she replies. "I don't know what Daryl does or doesn't want, but I know he'd never want a woman like that, like she was obligated, like she didn't have a choice. Maybe he's the only one left like that, the only good man left alive, but he is good." She takes a step forward then, watches as Merle regards her, his expression shifting and almost wary as he does, "And whatever is or isn't between us, that's our business, nothing for you to stick your nose in. Now did you come here for a reason or are you just passing your time needling at me?"
Merle is watching her with an expression that's hard to interpret, more guarded than he usually is and uncommonly silent for a moment before he replies. "Came to warn y'all. Friday night there'll be a fight, bit of entertainment for the locals. It's something they enjoy round here and you'll be expected to attend, and to look like you're havin' a real good time while you're there."
"What kind of fight?" Beth asks him, even as Merle's already heading for the door, ready to see himself out.
"Some of our good ol' boys here against the biters, show 'em what we're made of." Merle chuckles when he sees the shocked expression in her face, "See now, don't say Merle doesn't do anything for you. Make that expression on Friday and you'll land yourself in some real trouble. See that you don't, blondie."
He's gone soon after, the door wrenched shut behind him, and Beth moves from where she stands.
Merle might have surprised her, thrown her off kilter somewhat, but Beth knows from experience that forewarned is forearmed. They need this place for now, need it at least until winter is over, and they can't afford to attract attention to themselves in case it endangers that.
She heads to the kitchen, intending to complete the dinner preparations, and resolves to put it from her mind till the day arrives.
/
She's singing when he arrives home, an old Leonard Cohen song that her mamma used to love, before everything that happened. Her mamma always was a romantic, had to be to see a man worth saving in her daddy, to see past all the trouble at the time.
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
She'd heard his key in the lock but thought to finish her song anyway, as close to the end as she was. So she sings, the notes dying as she finally turns to face him, and there stands Daryl in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the side, and the look on his face...
It rushes into her, fills her up with a sudden, sharp pang that's almost a physical ache.
There's a nakedness there, a vulnerability, and for the first time she knows she's seeing a hint of what he hasn't allowed her to until now, of the depth of what she's suspected he's begun to feel for her.
Then he notices her watching and blinks, his face shuttered, and just like that the moment is gone, the strange tension that had been building erased.
Beth almost wishes that he'd taken a step forward instead, and reached out a hand with which to touch her.
She meant every word she said to Merle. Daryl is too good for that, to have those expectations. The last good man in the world as far as she knows. It wouldn't be like that if she were the one to choose though, if she were to initiate things.
She feels it, somewhere inside her, the shift. She has been aware of him for months now, first simply as a companion, as a friend. It's only been recently that she's allowed herself to think of other possibilities. Beth thinks she might know what she wants, but the decision once taken seems to her to be so very final that she can't bring herself to do so.
It's them now, until the end. That end might come quickly, or it may take years, but she knows they'll be together until it does. Is it the right decision to change what they are to each other, are they ready for that? She doesn't know if she is, she's almost certain that Daryl isn't.
So instead of taking the step forward that might take her to him, she smiles instead, a little self consciously, welcoming him home, and moves to grab the food she'd prepared earlier, bringing it to the table as he ducks his head in response, a gruff gratefulness to him.
They do what they can for each other, and even though there's no words of thankfulness exchanged between them, they're not needed. Beth thinks she's got Daryl's measure after so many days together, and no matter what Merle might say, he doesn't expect anything in return for what he gives. He still seems surprised by whatever small kindnesses she can find to do for him.
It makes her want to try all the harder, to reach a day when it no longer surprises him, when he thinks himself worthy of that attention, of whatever care she gives him.
There's a great deal that she still doesn't know about Woodbury, and Merle's cryptic warnings haven't exactly assuaged any doubts she has. It was always intended to be a pit stop on the way to somewhere else, a chance to rest and to see out the winter before they continue their search.
She's beginning to see though... It's hard to even put it into words, seems like a betrayal almost, but she's beginning to see how they could make a life here. By themselves.
She shouldn't think it, it's far too soon and she knows, she knows that her family is out there, that they have to be. She hasn't given up, doesn't think she'll ever be willing to, but this... This is real and it's right now, and given what the world is these days, it's more than she should have been able to hope for.
Sitting at a table with Daryl Dixon, in a real honest to god apartment, with running water and piped gas, and candles for light, as he hunches over the meal placed in front of him, eating quickly but trying to mind his manners, using the cutlery she'd laid out for them.
This is life. And it's not so bad.
Beth doesn't know if he even realises he's doing it, but he tries so hard for her, and the knowledge of it hits something low and hard in her gut, an almost physical pain of realisation.
He doesn't want her the way Merle thinks he should, not as something that's owed, not as some type of prize for his goodness, a medal for doing the right thing. She's not even sure if he knows properly himself, if wanting her has become a coherent thought in his mind.
Beth knows though, knows it in the ways he reacts to her sometimes, in the glances he'll shoot her way when he thinks she isn't watching, in the way his shoulders will hunch sometimes when he feels too much has been revealed, a thumb coming to his mouth to let him worry at the nail. She doesn't know if he's prepared to allow himself to want her, but she knows it's there all the same, gnawing away slowly at his resolve.
And her? What does she want?
Beth watches him then, watches him until sensing it, he looks up from his food, fixes his eyes on her and gives her a look.
"Dinner ain't gonna eat itself." Daryl tells her, and Beth bends over her own meal, keeping her eyes focused on it even if her thoughts are elsewhere.
She's not ready to make a decision, not really, and she doubts he's ready for her to make one either. She thinks she knows what she wants though, thinks that after all they've been through, after knowing Daryl's own brand of gruff sweetness, that it would be difficult to want anything else.
One day. If they have enough days to get there.
"Your brother was here," Beth announces, as Daryl's finishing his last spoonful, and he freezes for a second, an enquiring look on his face. "Came to warn us about a fight that's organised for Friday night, some type of contest between people and walkers."
The very idea gives her the creeps and Daryl frowns, "Sounds like a dumbass idea to me."
"Yeah well, Merle said to be careful how we reacted, don't want to draw attention to ourselves."
Daryl nods, and then ducks his head slightly before he looks back up at her, his expression earnest. "He give you any trouble? Don't know when to quit sometimes."
She could tell him. She could tell him, but then Beth knows she'd have to see him take that knowledge into himself, to watch him retreat from her, even more careful to keep his distance than he is now, and she doesn't want that.
"Nah," she tells him instead, "Nothing I can't handle."
He nods, collecting his plate to take it to the sink and she pauses for a minute to watch him go.
Maybe it's stupid, and maybe it's impossible, but she can see them making a life here, she can picture exactly how it might go. If the Governor should turn out to not be so bad as Merle thinks, or if they can just avoid his attention, then maybe they could stay here, use it as a base for finding the others.
All they need to do is stay quiet, mind their own business, and wait it out.
Do that, and they could have an actual future, the first one Beth's been able to imagine since the farm fell.
It could be possible, she knows it could.
It's a shame then, when it all falls apart at the Friday night fight.
A/N: Thank you so much for your patience with me. I do feel like I've passed a corner now, and I hope the writing will be easier from here on in. Your reviews are definitely what keeps me going!