Eugene wasn't lying. Shortly after she reached the sidewalk, the air grew colder as wind made its way down the abandoned streets. She made her way to the crossroads and looked to her right upon hearing the booming sound of Abe's laugh from the guard post right behind their two houses. She takes a deep breath, shoving her hands further into the pockets of Daryl's jacket, trying to get warm. Seconds later she hears the sound of a door open down the street, down her street, she turns around and can barely make out a figure on the porch of the house next door, the one that a few members of the group were staying in. They come off the porch, their head down, not looking at anything, but Beth realizes that it's Rick and if Rick catches her out here without Maggie he will most likely tell Maggie despite it being none of his business. And if Maggie finds out that she's out here before she gets to Daryl she can kiss this plan goodbye.
He never looks up.
Instead he jogs up the stairs to Jessie's house and knocks twice before she opens the door, light pouring out onto the dark porch when a blonde woman and greets him with a kiss on the cheek before smiling and letting him in. This must be Jessie.
Her eyes widen. She had heard the rumblings of a rumor that Rick was into her; mostly from Rosita. Rosita was kind of a gossip, especially when she was doing menial work. Beth knew of Rick killing her husband, who according to the gossip was a horrible person. It took her a minute standing in the cold, staring at the house before deciding that Rick deserved some kind of happiness, no matter how brief. She was sure Jessie was a perfectly nice person.
The wind picks up and Beth remembers that she should really get going.
She arrives on Eric and Aaron's porch moments later, staring at the slate blue door. The door she had so many times through the windows of the infirmary, the porch with hints of railroad imagery. She'd heard about Terminus in small bits and pieces from Maggie. Part of her was glad she missed that, the other selfishly thinking her own train car of Grady Memorial was just as bad; if not worse. She knocks once before stepping away from the door and looking back to the infirmary; the lights out since the only patient (her) had finally gone home.
"Yeah?" The door opens and Beth turns around to see Aaron in the door frame, a pair of Simpsons printed flannel pants hanging over his sock feet, a blue hoodie keeping him warm. His face falters a bit as he looks at her; the too big coat, the scars on her face. "You shouldn't be out here, Beth. A Storm's moving in."
"I know." She responds quickly, feeling the goose pimples on her skin, raising the hair and sending a shiver down her spin. "Is Daryl here?"
"Yeah come on in." He moves out of the way and lets her in, closing the door behind her. "He should still be awake, his room's at the top of the stairs."
Their house seemed so normal, like nothing had ever happened. It was beautifully decorated, antiques peppered around, walls of license plates. "Thanks." She gives a small smile to Eric, who was turned on the couch to be in on the conversation. She turns to walk over to the staircase she can see peeking out behind a wall in the kitchen.
"Maggie know you're here?" Aaron asks, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, looking over to Eric.
Beth stops in her tracks and turns to look at him. So close. "No." Beth responds.
Aaron sighs. "It's bad enough having to worry about Daryl sneaking out, now I have worry about you, too?" He asks, a minor hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't leave a note?"
"Didn't really think about it." She responds, a half lie. "I just need space away from her, you know? She's been on top of me since you and Daryl brought me back."
"She's your sister." Aaron responds. "She thought you were dead."
Beth breathes out a small sigh, the same story she's been hearing since she got here. "I still need space. She won't even let me sleep in my own room."
Aaron shifts on his feet, unsure of what to say as he understood where both of the Greene sisters were coming from. "Why don't you go tell Maggie that Beth is here." Eric interjects, knowing his husband was failing to come up with something to say. "And she's staying over tonight."
Beth allows a small smile to form on her face, turning to look at all of the license plates on the wall, the collections of antique signs dotted between them.
"Yeah, it's not like I can call her." Aaron sighs. "You owe me, Beth." He teases.
She nods. "I do."
She makes her way up the stairs slowly, cringing at the pain in her leg. Okay maybe Maggie was right about the stairs being too much to tackle on a daily basis. She wouldn't admit it. She pauses on the landing that connects the two flights of stairs and looks out the window; Alexandria was dark, the last few outdoor lights had been turned off. She felt bad for making Aaron walk down the street to tell Maggie she had snuck out. She tackles the next flight at the same speed, slowly and steadily, before taking a small rest at the top of the stairs. There was a soft yellow glow coming out of the room at the top. She could see down the hallway, four more doors spread out, three closed, one open. She figured the open door must be Aaron and Eric's room. The upstairs, just like the downstairs, was littered in various antique signs and photos. A couple plants, Beth couldn't tell if they were real or fake, occupied the space on the top landing, right across from Daryl's room. This was the kind of place Daryl deserved. A warm home with people who cared about him. He probably didn't care for it too much, preferring the wilderness outside the walls like he's always known, but that didn't mean he didn't deserve it.
She walks towards the door, peeking around the corner to see Daryl's room. It's pretty bare, especially compared to the rest of Aaron and Eric's house. The bedframe was old and brass, the edges of the head and foot boards curved with pieces of the plush comforter poking through the open pieces at the foot. There's a tall dresser directly in front of the door, an antique metal car on the top next to Daryl's collection of knives and small guns, laid in a pile, torn off after a long day. A shotgun is leaning against it, its tip just over the window sill, the curtains are still open, but the blinds are shut. On the right of the dresser, shoved into a corner that faced the bed, was a chair, where Daryl was sitting sideways, his dirty sock feet pressed against the wall with the window on it, and his head dangerously close to the accordion doors that hid his closet away from the world. Beth wondered what he kept in there, if anything. Daryl was whittling new bolts from pieces of wood, a collection of shavings forming on the piece of old newspaper he set on his tummy. The roles are reversed from the funeral home, when he snuck up on her while she was playing piano, this time she's watching him unwind the best way he can.
"You better not let Aaron see that mess." She states, leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her face.
He looks over. "Wouldn't be the first time he got mad about it." He responds and folds the newspaper in half, lifting it off his tummy and moving it to the floor. "What're you doin' here? Thought Maggie'd have you locked down."
"She did. I snuck out." She walks into the room and sits on his striped comforter before toeing her boots off. "Aaron is telling her right now."
"He and Eric are narcs." Daryl states. "Supposed to be bad tonight—that's what Eugene's been spreadin'. Couldn't go ten minutes without him yelling about the weather."
"At least he has a hobby that's useful."
"Ain't like he's doing much else." Daryl scoffs. "For someone as smart as he claims he is, he sure spends a lot of time with his thumb up his ass."
Beth cracks a smile. "You should teach him to hunt, you taught me."
"Pfft." Daryl sets his knife down next to his newspaper. "We'll be lucky if we can each him to farm in the spring."
"You guys don't have crops yet?"
"I don't know how these people survived, Beth." He sighs. "Each one of 'em is dumber than the next, Aaron and Eric are the only ones out here keeping these people fed. Reg did the wall, Deanna tried to run the place. Her kids are dumber than a box of rocks."
Ten minutes goes by of Daryl telling Beth about all of the inadequacies of Alexandria, stuff he coudlnt say before when they were in the infirmary. He had good ideas—they needed to start farming, raising crops, maybe finding some wild turkeys or other game birds to breed for meat. They needed to reinforce the walls, they needed to do so much work—they had gotten off so easy with no herds coming through. She loved hearing him be so passionate about something—he knew the worth of the community they had come across.
Then there's a soft rap at the doorframe, Daryl looks up and sees Aaron standing with a small canvas bag. "Maggie sent over some things."
"Was she mad?" Beth asks, turning to Aaron and taking the bag.
"Kind of." Aaron says truthfully. "She's fine with you staying here though. I think she just wanted you to ask."
Beth sighs. "Thanks, Aaron."