Merle looked up from the firewood he and Maggie were chopping to store for winter. "You hear that?"

Maggie paused and squinted as she listened. "I don' hear nothin'."

"Thought I heard somethin' from the house," Merle said, sucking his teeth and wiping sweat from his brow. "Might pop in just to see what's goin' on." He leaned the axe against the pile of wood and strode toward the house.

"I'll come, too, I guess," Maggie said. "I need a drink."

"Hell, girl, I can hook you up."

"Water," Maggie replied with a giggle.

"That ain' hardly no fun."

"Beth. Beth!"

Beth came to and blinked her eyes open slowly. "What-?" A wave of nausea rushed over her and she turned and vomited on the floor. "What's happening?" she asked in fright.

"That's what I'd like to know," Daryl muttered. He was sitting with his back against the bed, his legs outstretched. His wound oozed from being disturbed, but he tried to pay it no mind. "You tryin' to kill yourself?" he spat. He'd been holding pressure to her bleeding arm for a few minutes. "After all the shit we went through to get you here?"

"No," Beth answered earnestly. "I was just getting down pictures, then it cut me. I had to clean the pictures, though."

"Well that was fuckin' stupid," Daryl growled. "You could have died." He glared at her, ignoring her pitiful puppy dog eyes. He'd been bending over backward for her since day one and he wasn't certain whether it was worth it. They were supposed to be safe but here he was, still babysitting her. Some days their difference in age was obvious. This was one of them.

"It's just a cut," Beth mumbled. She made to stand, but felt lightheaded and slumped back down against the bed.

"I been callin' for someone for damn near five minutes," Daryl sighed. He groaned and gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. Pain shot up his leg, but he puffed breaths through his mouth and was upright. "C'mon. Get in the bed, at least," he panted, reaching down to Beth's good arm. "Get up. C'mon." It didn't seem right leaving her to fend for herself, but something felt wrong about being in her light pink bedroom in her father's house.

She nodded and pulled herself into the bed. Warmth rushed to her face and she felt her stomach churn again.

"Don't-" Daryl groaned, but Beth was getting sick over the side of the bed. He inhaled sharply and did everything in his power not to berate her.

"The hell's goin' on here?" Merle's sharp voice came as he stomped up the stairs. "What's with the screamin'?"

"Asshole," Daryl called. "Now you come to check on things?"

"Hershel! Hershel!" voices came from the yard.

"This place ever been normal? Seem things been goin' to shit the second we got here," Merle snapped. He poked his head in the room. "Ya'll under control?"

"Merle! Get down here!" Maggie called.

"Jesus," Merle growled.

"Help me get her bandaged up," Daryl said.

"I'll do it," Merele snapped. "Get up off the floor."

"Merle!" Maggie's cry came again. "Help! He's been shot!"

The Dixons exchanged glances.

"Who was shot? Daddy?" Beth breathed, her eyes rolling back in her head as she fainted again.

"Oh, come on!" Merle snarled. "Stay here. I'll be back." He took off down the stairs. "Who get shot?" he called as he saw Maggie.

"Otis shot a boy," Maggie gasped. "Help me clean out a room. Daddy's going to do surgery to get the bullet out. Those people are with the boy, and they're bringing more."

That was the start of their new family. A group of survivors joined the Greene/Dixon clan: a man, his pregnant wife and boy, another woman recently widowed and made childless, a young man Maggie had taken to, and a few others.

They all lived on the farm in what seemed to be peace, but that lasted only a few months before walkers overran the entire acreage. Daryl and Merle had been skeptical of the others at first, but now trusted them as family. Maggie had married a man named Glenn. Beth grew more independent while Daryl grew softer – slightly. Above all, it became clear that the world would never revert back to a walker-free state.

When the group was forced away from the farm, they found a prison to live in. Things had seemed better, but they weren't. The pregnant woman died in birth, Hershel had been murdered by invaders, and any innocence left in the group was lost. Following a destructive seige, the group had hit the road once again, searching for somewhere to call home at last.

"This is some bullshit, that's all that is," Merle grumbled as the group crept around the perimeter of a seemingly untouched house. "That's a trap right there. Ain' nobody gettin' in and outta there with all them digits remaining." He hoisted his pack. "I'm huntin'."

"Not with that gun you're not," a man and former sheriff named Rick growled. "We're stayin'."

Beth glanced at Daryl, who was scanning the house. "What do you think?" she whispered.

Daryl turned and shook his head. "I think it'd be nice to find a fuckin' place to stay for once." He studied her pained, gaunt face and vowed to find somewhere to stay put.

A/N: Hi, friends! Sorry for my absense- summer is a busy time for me, and I got caught up in some other fics. We'll catch back up with Bethyl shortly. (: