She fell into step following Daryl, letting him show her the quickest path back to camp. He seemed to be handling the terrain just fine, she watched for him a wince or give some other sign that his leg bothered him, but if it did, he disguised it well.
They stopped for one last rest before taking on the last full mile back to the others, splitting their final water-bottle.
"I know that… mostly, you were just lookin' out for me. Before, when I was a little…"
"Anxious?" he gave her a word to try out and she nodded.
"But it's not just that. What's bothering you?"
For a silent stretch it didn't look like he was going to answer the question.
She chewed on her tongue a moment then said, "I want us to be together, but if you still feel weird about it..."
He nodded, looking at the ground, when he did speak he let the words drop of his tongue slowly, as if each one was a risk, "I was thinkin' if the world hadn't gone to shit, there's no way we'd have ever even met. If we did—it could never've been like this." He shifted his weight, nervously thumbing at his knife. "I think about what you would've been like, sometimes. I can picture it; you're walking 'round some smart campus somewhere, with your books and your plans, big ol' smile on your face. Waving to your friends. All the young college guys lookin' at you. Maybe you like one of 'em and maybe he's a real good guy. He likes your singin' and maybe you like his too. You're all worried to take him back to the farm to meet your dad and mom, and that's all you really gotta worry about. You're never hungry or wondering where you're gonna sleep. Nothing's comin' for you. Sometimes… I think about how it oughta be, and I know I'd never belong there."
Suddenly uncomfortable, Beth crossed her arms over her stomach. She could imagine it too, though it actually seemed like he'd put more thought into it than she had. "Everythin' happens the way it's supposed to. I'm not glad that the world is over," she rolled her eyes, "Of course I'm not… but it's my life. I own it. I fought for it… Besides, I think you're wrong about not belonging there."
"Nah, I ain't," said Daryl with a self-deprecating shake of his head.
"Let's say that yeah, if none of it ever happened… I'd go to college," she conceded, trying to think of a scenario when she and Daryl might have met one another. "Otis was teachin' me to play guitar. In school, I make these friends who are all real musical and they wanna have a band. So during my first performance we go to some little run-down bar and I'm so scared… but you're there, you and Merle, getting' lit and listening to me try and sing and not cry."
The corner of his mouth twitched, fighting a smile as he imagined the scene.
"What happens next?" she smiled widely at him.
Daryl frowned, "I dunno. Merle probably likes your singing—he did like it, by the way. Don't know if I ever mentioned that. But if he's drunk, he's probably bein' a jackass, might get himself kicked out. Let's say I don't even notice 'cause I'm lookin' at you."
"Oh, poor Merle," Beth laughed.
"Jackass," Daryl muttered, shaking his head, "He takes off and leaves me there. So, after your last song I head out."
"Wait—you don't come tell me you liked my singing while we're packing up?" Beth narrowed her eyes at him.
Daryl snorted, "No."
"Come on! I was so nervous."
"I wouldn't do that," Daryl shook his head at the ground, trying to hide a smile, "No way I'd go up to you and say anythin'. I never did that kind of thing. 'Specially not to a beautiful girl with one of them black X's on the back of her hand."
"Even if you'd been drinking?" her heart had done a little flip when he called her beautiful.
"No way, Greene. Ain't enough social lubricant in Georgia."
She sighed, "Alright, well, so you're walking home, and I'm drivin' down that same road and I see you and recognize you and I pull over."
Groaning, Daryl rubbed at his eyes, "Dammit, girl, are you offering me a ride?"
"Of course!"
"I know your dad raised you smarter—" but he was laughing now, "You ain't gonna pick up some dirty, strange-ass drunk stumblin' his way home from the bar."
"Sure I would—I saw you at my show, hanging on every word. You need a ride," her smile widened. "I'm real nice."
"But you forgettin', I ain't," said Daryl, pointing a warning finger at her, "You ask me to get in that car and see what happens."
"Of course I ask, I say 'hey, need a ride?' and you say—"
"Hell no," says Daryl. "You better not be askin' any redneck sumbitch to get in your car, Greene."
"You don't know I'm called Greene yet—you only heard my stage name. I point out that you must be a nice guy if you're warnin' me that you ain't, and then I tell you to get in the car again."
"That don't make no sense. I say 'no thanks' again."
"But it's raining."
"Is it?" Daryl knitted his brows.
"It's pouring, get in! I'd feel bad leaving you all alone out here, soakin' wet and abandoned by your brother."
"How'd you know my brother took off?"
"'Cause I was payin' attention! I got a bossy older sister who's always tellin' me what to do. But she's never taken off like that and left me anywhere," Beth shrugged, "That sucks. Come on, it's just a ride."
Taking a deep breath Daryl nodded mildly, "Alright. I'd probably get in," he relented. "But I'd spend the whole ride beggin' you not to make a habit of picking up hitch-hikers, least of all drunken hicks."
"I'd think that was real sweet of you," she strolled right up to him, taking a hold of his vest on either side, "I'd like you, Daryl Dixon." She kissed his collarbone, then his neck.
His fingers found their way to the seam between the top of her jeans and the hem of her t-shirt. His hands continued around her waist, lightly brushing her bare skin. It sent a thrill all through her body. She pressed her hips more firmly against his.
"We should get back," she sighed inwardly, catching a glimpse of the sun over his shoulder. The sooner they got back, the sooner they could have roast pig ready for everyone.
The last mile back to camp went by quickly, it was downhill all the way, whereas when they left in the dark hours of the morning, they'd been trekking up-hill. When they returned there was a lot more movement and noise that usual, and to Beth's surprise Rick and his group were back already.
"Good, you're here—and you brought bacon!" Glenn met them at the border. He seemed livelier than he'd been all week. Going out on the run must have done him some good.
"What's goin' on?" Beth looked past him to the rest of their group. It seemed like they were packing everything up, pulling up stakes.
"There's a herd coming this way—nothing like the one that tore through Terminus, but big enough." He took the pig from Daryl, appreciating the weight of it with both hands before he slung it over his back. "We're gonna relocate. There's a little motel that we cleared earlier, outside of the line of fire."
Beth barely had time to give Judith a cuddle and then pack their bags into the trunk of the sedan and they were already heading out. They'd never really sprouted roots, but all the same, after a week of being in the same place, they had spread out a little further than expected. She could see the scars they'd left in the dirt from out the back of the military jeep as they rolled away.
The motel brought them closer to Terminus. Close enough that she heard Rick and Carol discuss sending out a couple of people every day to scope the place out and make sure nothing had changed. She wondered how much longer it would be until they would carry out their plans of stripping Terminus' corpse and taking off for DC. She wasn't the only one, separately she heard Sasha, Carl and Maggie all asked Rick quietly and (they thought) privately when they might be done playing camping trip. He gave everyone the same vague 'a few days' response.
She had been worried that the motel would be a more obvious place for them to stay than their camp in the woods; that they would be more likely to come across other survivor groups or the herds of the undead. She breathed a sigh of relief when their cars turned onto an overgrown, narrow road veering off into the woods. The motel was out of sight from the main road and under plenty of protective cover. If they broke into the office to get the keys, they would even have locked doors.
In the parking lot they butchered and served the pig, rabbit and squirrel, spent some time around the smoldering coals, enjoying the feel of being feed. It seemed like the kind of night when everyone might stay gathered around for a while, maybe listening to Abraham's war stories or getting into it about things they missed from the old world. Instead, everyone took to choosing their rooms right away.
With Carl's help, she put together a makeshift cradle for Judith out of a basket they took from the laundry room. They set it up in the room on the far end of the motel, where Rick would be staying with his kids. When she came back outside it was to watch the others picking out their rooms.
A wave of nostalgia hit her. She remembered when they'd first come into the prison and everyone had picked a cell. She hadn't felt compelled to unpack her bag right away, too nervous that they wouldn't be there for long. Now, she knew they wouldn't be staying more than 'a few days' as Rick kept saying.
She twisted the shoulder straps of her backpack in her hands, checking to see what rooms were still open and where the keys had gone off to. She couldn't keep track of who had them, but it seemed like most people were turning in, though the sun was just beginning to reach the horizon.
"Hey, Beth."
She felt Daryl's hand on her shoulder. The keys to one of the rooms dangled off his thumb. "You stayin' with me?" the question in his eyes was clear, the uncertainty. No matter how many times she'd tried to reassure him, he seemed to always expect rejection.
"Yes," she checked the number on the keys with her fingers. Then took a hold of his hand and led him into their room. Daryl locked the door behind them.
Skinny Love – Bon Iver