A/N: Hell there, another monstrous update, but it had to be done. I'm very excited about this chapter too, because we've arrived, I think, the best episode of the whole series, "Them", and in my opinion the only good, I mean, the only part of Beth's death, and I adore Rick's speech "we're the walking dead" and Daryl's heated answer "We ain't them".

I need to raise the ratings a bit, I think, but I guess a T rating would be enough. I don't believe it deserves a M, but I've never been sure of what is worth of an M, and what not, heh.

Enjoy.

XXIV.

When the dawn came, the fire Daryl had built last night was already waned out, but Beth vaguely felt the chill of the morning as she was wrapped in Daryl's arms under the blanket, cricket chirpings low in her ears with Daryl's rhythmic breathing. Daryl had built a fire further away from the others as they passed the night alone not to be disturbed, even though twice Daryl had had to leave her under the blankets and dealt with a few wayward walkers had found their little simple camp, and also made sure they stayed clothed after…uh… the deed… the deeds… each time… in case that they would need to run off on an emergency, wouldn't have done it naked, but still it was the best night of her life. Smiling at herself, Beth stretched out as much as she could in the tight embrace, a dull twinge inside her throbbing as her groin ached, and it was a good pain, too, making her feel alive. She frowned at the thought, her forearm coming at her, but pushed it away. She didn't want to think of it now, not right now, not ever if possible.

But it was aching, a constant remember what had happened last night—that Beth Greene was no longer a virgin. Her smile grew bigger, she felt sheepishly happy even though she knew it was stupid, but she was happy. She just had her first time with the man she'd fallen in love, who loved her back as fiercely as she did. What a girl could ask for more? Slowly turning in his arms, she faced with him. He was still sleeping, and she saw with satisfaction that the ever grim lines etched over his features had loosened a bit, his lips lost that tension as his eyebrows… he looked in peace. Beth wished he'd also felt at peace, because she wanted him to be, she wanted him to be as happy as she was. He deserved happiness, more than anyone. She touched his face with her fingertips—tracing lines across his skin, the small almost invisible scares, and she remembered last night again, remembered the scars over his body, the way she'd traced them too like now—and he'd let her. He'd just stood still and watched her as she weaved her fingers over the scars, his eyes heavy and darkened in silence, and how she'd wished to erase those lines off his skin, erase his past, erase all those memories she knew were there. I was fifteen when I first burned myself with a cigarette. Her heart ached, because she couldn't erase the past, but she could make him happy—no one would make anyone happy, but she could at least try, she could at least be there for him. They were family.

As if sensing her touch, he opened his eyes then Beth wondered if he'd been already awake like the last time, pretending asleep watching her, but she smiled further, her fingers pushing the dark locks away off his eyes so she could see him better. She wanted to see him fully, wanted him to see her fully, too. It was them, being together truly for the first time, belonging to each other. "Mornin'" she whispered through her smile.

"Morn—" he roughed out something close to a morning she supposed and gave her a faint smile back as she played with his hair. They stayed in silence for a little while, only looking at each other then Daryl asked, "ya good?"

It was like fifth time he'd asked her that. He'd been careful with her last night, felt almost restrained, like he was holding himself back and she knew it was for her sake. She wasn't a glass doll that would break if he played too hard but for the moment Beth didn't feel like opening up another discussion, she knew it was still hard for Daryl—accepting this—having sex with her, and what they did was almost blew her mind off, and he'd managed to make her come both times, so really, what a girl could ask for more? She'd been a virgin, yes, but she wasn't clueless, before the turn, in the school almost all of her friends had already lost their virginity, and Beth bet none of them had had two orgasms in the night. She was lucky, truly lucky and she couldn't help but wonder how it would be when Daryl lost that restraint and got comfortable enough—the tug inside her started pulsing harder, and she felt herself getting wet again, the prospect turning in her mind… she shook her head a bit to clear her mind, trying to slow down herself. She didn't want to push him. It hadn't worked well the first time.

Carol had advised before to take it slow, easing into it, and she'd said he'd welcome her in, and Beth could see now it was true—it was what she should've done at the first place, shouldn't have forced him like she had, but…well, he wasn't innocent, either, so she guessed they both were at fault. She didn't want to point fingers at each other anymore, she wanted to move on, keep going…that was what they all would do—that was all left to them—all the meaning left to them now. She recalled what she'd told Dawn a lifetime ago—You find a family, you stick with them, and you endure. All the meaning there now is just what we choose to have. And they'd chosen this, be together and endure.

"We should return," Daryl then said, "Rick's waiting."

Beth nodded. Before they left off the camp at the small clearing, they'd met with Rick as he was coming out off the tree line, then Amanda had appeared, following him… looking disheveled, tousled hair and all and Beth had known. She wasn't the only one her itch had been scratched yesterday—there were new hickeys at Amanda's neck and Rick's, too, as the other man stood rigid, looking at them—Amanda snorting out derisively, "Ugh, no privacy at all," she'd snickered, walking away, leaving behind Rick to throw at her a glare—and Beth knew it wasn't going to be a picnic with them, even now.

Rick had then turned and only told Daryl not to go away too much and returned at the dawn. "We need to leave in the morning," he'd said, "We gotta move," but had left the rest unsaid, and an awkard silence had fallen between them, as Beth had felt a blush rising over her cheeks. Rick had then cleared his throat, and nodded at Daryl, and walked away as Daryl had only grunted out low. Beth had felt exposed, even though she knew she shouldn't, should own it, this was her decision, and she had made up her mind, but still she wished she had Amanda's aloofness, not this awkward silence. No one batted an eye when Glenn and Maggie did the same, sleeping away from them for a bit of privacy when they felt it, so she guessed like the others, Beth herself would need to get used to it, too. But Beth knew now when they returned, she was going to have to watch him going out. It wasn't the first time she did, watching him as he went to hunting or supply runs, but now it was different. She wished they could have stayed there forever, just them. Then she remembered. "Daryl-" she called him, lifting her eyes up at him, "At the funereal home—" she said, "I could've stayed with you there." She paused, "I could've stayed with you at anywhere forever."

Daryl stared at her for a second, then clutching her shirt, he yanked her toward him and kissed her hard in answer before turning her on her back, fast hands already started unbuttoning her jeans.

Then Beth thought with relief and satisfaction that maybe she didn't have to wait long before Daryl got used it.

# # #

Daryl had to hand it to her, Shepherd was right about it, there wasn't no fucking privacy among them, but luckily this time the attention of the group wasn't focus on them, but instead it was turned on Rick as the other man pretended not to notice the silent gazes on him—and on Amanda, mostly on their hickey and teeth mark decorated necks and lips, and once again Daryl wondered what the hell was happening between them, because it looked like they had gotten into a fight more than having sex.

Daryl wasn't whining, though. Whatever to make the others not to give them those looks… He'd been careful, of course, he hadn't bitten her for starters… even though he'd come close, so fucking close—and it took everything in him to hold himself back—to hold up his reserves not to sink his teeth into the delicate, soft skin she had bared for him as she came under him—shattered into million pieces—because of him, and he should've done it, should've claimed her—marked her—she was his… But he couldn't. Beth wasn't like the girls he'd used to fuck in the toilets, hard and rough quickies, both only looking for their own gratifications, taking whatever they could, with no care for the other. It was different with Beth. Beth was different, so sex had to be different, too, though he had no idea how it should be. It'd been her first time, too, just like he'd expected it, and Daryl had been really out of his depths, hell, he'd never been with a virgin before, aside himself, but that wouldn't count. He didn't got any fucking idea what he was supposed to do, but after she'd gone and simply told him to make love to her, there was nowhere to run anymore. He didn't want to run, either, he was tired of running, tired of keeping her at arm's reach, so he'd just take her hand and walked them away. The rest was…the rest was like a dream…or like a fantasy or he'd died and somehow instead of hell, had gone to heaven because it felt like that…having her exactly felt like heaven. Jesus Christ, he almost grunted out at his own thoughts… and Merle was laughing his ass off in his head… He was so screwed…

And he was screwed because Rick was staring at him as if waiting an answer, and Daryl had no damn idea about the question, because he hadn't been listening a fuck, but instead daydreaming about Beth Greene and heaven. "Daryl?" Rick asked again.

"Hmm—" Daryl grunted, giving a look back at Rick, and got irritated how the other man looked cool even when hickeys and teeth marks were adorning his neck. He had to hand it to him, too; Rick Grimes was a different kind of sonofabitch.

"We go look around, you and me, Amanda and Abraham." With the corner of his eyes, Daryl caught a slight twitch at the corner of Amanda's mouth, then her face turned to passive once again, but Daryl hadn't missed it. Rick was really a different kind of a sonofabitch. "Then at noon we come back and start moving out. We stay off the road. We don't take our chances on the road."

"The road is shorter—" Michonne said in return, "Wherever we're going, we gotta get to there quickly." There was a pause as everyone thought about what Michonne had said. They had skipped the dinner last night, and lessened the rations half at the morning.

Rick shook his head. "The road is too dangerous. We stay at the woods." He wandered his eyes around the rest of the group, too, "You start packing and be ready to leave. Try to find something to eat too."

Daryl turned to Abraham, standing up as Rick handed the radio to him. "Follow the creek at north side, we'll cover the south. We radio each other if we find something."

They all started going different directions. Maggie first gave her a look before she walked away with Glenn. Daryl was glad Beth had given her big sister another chance because seeing them like that was making his guilt bitter, and Daryl also had an inkling it was one of the reasons for her forgiveness, too. She'd said she wanted to move on, and she was right. They had to move on. His eyes looked for her as she stood at the other side, and then he saw Carol giving at him a small smile. Nodding at her slightly, Daryl gave the older woman a smile back. He knew Carol was happy for him. And he was happy.

He turned and looked at Beth, who was staring at Rick's back with a frown. Then Daryl sighed. "He's being a prick," Beth said when he came to her side, and turned aside, "Daryl, talk to him, okay?" she asked, looking at him.

"Talk to him what?" Daryl asked back, playing dumb.

Beth gave him a pointed look in return. "I ain't know, girl, don't feel if we should get into between 'em." His eyes moved over Shepherd for a second who stood there with the red jarhead, "Even last night they were like this."

"Well, we're already involved, and they're our friends. I want them to be happy as much as we are, Daryl. Rick will be good for Amanda, you know it."

Daryl had his own doubts about it. "He just teamed her up with Abraham, Beth," he reminded her.

Beth sighed out after that. "I know. I'll talk to her, too. You just talk to Rick, please?" She gave at him a look, titling her neck aside, with a smile, her eyes imploring, and he found himself nodding.

Fuck! Had he just accepted to have a talk of relationship stuff with Rick? He'd truly become her bitch, but then again there were worse things to be Daryl thought as she took a few steps, closing on in him. "Be careful, 'kay?" she asked, rising her hand to touch his cheek gently, and smiled, "And come back soon, I'll be waiting."

Half an hour later, they were searching the creek a safe fifty yards away from the banks, the banks of the water sources were always the trickiest and the most dangerous parts of the wildness as every creature lived in the woods had to get come to the banks for water, too, and as the soil beneath the water baseline was muddy, the ground was much trickier, one foot place at a wrong place and you could find yourself in the water. At fall, it wouldn't much of a problem, it could've given a good call, but at winter it meant hypothermia in fifteen minutes if you hadn't set up a quick fire. So Daryl always put a fifty yards safety between the banks and himself, never going to the banks as long as it was necessary.

Rick was looking at the forage for signs too, and Daryl thought how he would start, when it'd be the best time, but then decided there wouldn't be any best time. So he just dived in, "You and Shepherd—" he asked, grunting out, "You're—uh—at it?"

From where he crouched, Rick lifted his head up, looking at him, then turned back to inspect the ground. "Did Beth force you to talk to me?" Rick asked back instead. Daryl shrugged in response. "We had sex last night," Rick then stated.

Well, they all had figured it out. "Yeah… and we're together here now, and she's out with Abraham…"

Rick frowned, his face turning grim, "She's driving me crazy, and I'm full with her shit," Rick hissed, "So she's out with Abraham." Daryl looked at him in silence. Rick's frown grew deeper, and he grimaced, "It was just sex, Daryl," he said and added with a sneer, "so she keeps telling me."

Ah, Daryl thought, slowly getting it. "Hmm—" he grunted out, "You want it be more?" he asked back, looking at the other man searching, but Rick shook his head.

"I don't know," he answered, and sighed out, "It's—"

Daryl gave the other man a look, "Complicated?"

Rick ran his hand over his hair, "Yeah. Complicated." He gave back Daryl a look then, "But when it isn't, right?" He paused, "You and Beth-? You good?"

Daryl didn't hesitant, "Yeah, we're good," he answered, "She's pissed at you, though." They started walking again, "She says you're being a prick."

Rick sighed again. "You know Amanda had come to me pissed off demanding that I talk to you too when you were being a prick."

In answer, Daryl only grunted out.

# # #

At noon, they came back, empty handed and they started moving out. They had left so little now it took almost no time to get ready, their backpacks getting lighter, and Beth felt everyone's morale had already started going down at the first day. But really what were they expecting? A quick escape, a sort of divine invention, finding the wolves or a place to settle in just at the very day they had started looking?

Daryl had found some mushrooms at the woods that he was sure not poisonous, and they'd eaten them quick, six at a person, and set out to the road. She was walking beside Daryl at the front as he made them follow the road but safely hidden from the sight at the other side of the tree line. Rick was beside them too, holding Judith up within his arm as Carl walked at his left side, but at right side there was Michonne. He couldn't talk with Daryl—there wasn't any time, Rick was adamant to leave as soon as they had returned, but Amanda was walking at the back between Abraham and Rosita, a pinched expression at her face as the former wards walked a few steps ahead of her. Abraham had started drinking from his whiskey again. Beth frowned. Had he been drinking out there, too? That was too dangerous, and Rick had sent Amanda with him. Beth looked ahead and sent a glare at the other man. She didn't know what exactly happening between them, but she wasn't liking it.

Though, there were other things she wasn't liking, as well. It was hot and cold at the same time, and she couldn't explain. The sun was up and they were sweating like a pig, for a while it hid behind clouds and they started shivering with wind. Beth hated it, and she knew if the weather kept being like this, soon they would get sick. There were no medicine with them too, the precious stash they'd managed to pick up from Grady was lost in the church among their other supplies. Beth felt bad the most for them. Food and water were a must to survive but medicine and guns were harder to procure.

"I saw a car on the road," Glenn said from her left side, where he was screening the road, and Daryl rushed at him, slightly touching at her upper arm before he left to check it. The gestures sent a surge of warm feelings over the discomforts of being out at the road, but when they returned, they said they found two empty water bottles and one unopened bag of crackers. Beth smiled bitterly, warm feelings vanishing, and they all continued walking.

When they stopped at night, she was so hungry her stomach started rebelling. She sat on the ground tired to bone, and sighed, understanding clearly that their plan sucked. At her left side, Whitney started vomiting bile as Amanda pushed her hair back off her face, holding her forehead in a grip before the old woman fell. Beth took the crackers and walked to them.

She gave the bag to the old woman, "Here, eat," but Amanda pushed it away.

"No," Amanda said, "It belongs to everyone. She needs to keep up." She turned to Whitney, "You will keep up, do you hear me?" she hissed at the older woman, "You will. You're not allowed to die."

Inwardly, Beth sighed. Amanda Shepherd really got the worst bedside manner. Beth touched at her arm, and pulled her away from others. "Amanda, ya okay?" she asked.

Amanda gave her a seething look, "Just peachy, Beth," she sneered.

Beth returned her look, "You know you don't have to be a bitch every time someone worries about you."

She shook her head, "Go away Beth, go find Daryl, and be fucking happy," she snarled, "I can't deal with this now."

Beth looked at her coolly. "You're just like this because Rick sent you out with Abraham."

Amanda glared at her, "I'm tired and hungry, and I've been walking since the morning."

"So we all," Beth shot back, "What happened last night?" she asked, not waiting for other woman's retort, "How did you two have sex and then turn up like this?"

She shrugged, "We had a fight."

Beth squinted, recognizing her own words, "Before or after?"

Amanda shrugged off again, "Both."

"Amanda, what did you do?"

Amanda straightened her shoulders. "How do you know it was me?" Beth simply looked at her, but didn't answer. The former policewoman sighed then, "He wanted to talk. I told him there's nothing to talk. Told him it was just sex."

Beth squinted further, and asked again, "Before or after?"

Amanda ran her eyes away, "Both."

Beth shook her head. "You're even stupider than Daryl."

Amanda's eyes snapped back at her, "Speaking of the devil," Amanda said in response, "I was wondering what happened exactly between you two, too? You said you had a fight but what kind of a fight was that it made Daryl Dixon giving you kisses in public overnight?"

Beth stared at her, "Well?" Amanda prompted.

"Rick and you had sex too after a fight."

"And like you can see, we aren't giving each other kisses in public." Amanda sighed, "Rick and I were just horny and wanted to fuck, Beth. It was really about sex. Okay, maybe, maybe it's a bit more than sex, there's this…thing between us, but basically it was just about sex. Daryl loves you, Rick lusts after me. So… what happened, really?"

"Rick cares about you, too."

Amanda snorted. "Yeah, I just saw how much he cares about me this morning," she shot back wryly then shook her head, "I'm not a fool, Beth. If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, but I know something happened, something—enough to break over his reservations—"

Beth let out a sigh. "He caught me doing…something."

Amanda arched an eyebrow, "Something…stupid?" she asked back.

She nodded, "Yeah."

Amanda nodded back. "Okay," she answered, "You—you've stopped doing it?"

Beth nodded again, tears in her eyes again, "Yeah."

"Okay," Amanda said, "It's okay, Beth." She walked to her, and did something Beth would never think of her doing, she hugged her, "We always do something…stupid sometimes."

Hugging her back, Beth wished it was true, wished that she wasn't only the stupid one here. She took a step back, and smiled at Amanda bowing her head, "Thank you."

She sat down, and Amanda followed her, and in the sudden silence, their stomach grumbled. Amanda shook her head. "I'm fucking hating this," she muttered out.

"Yeah…" Beth said back, and looked at her, "You're wrong…about Rick," she clarified and explained, "I've known him more than two years now, and never seen him kissing anyone, let alone have sex casually after Lori's death. At the prison, we had people, many women—they were all practically fawning over him, Amanda. He never even blinked."

But instead of being moved what Beth had said, Amanda just sighed out, "He was in grief, lost his wife in childbirth, I heard. He's still, I guess—that's why he probably keeps Michonne at arm's reach. But he's getting out of it, Beth, and I have no desires to be his Band-Aid until he has fully healed." She paused, "Rick is a family man, Beth, that's not me."

Beth shook her head, "God, you're really even stupider than Daryl. Stop telling yourself that. You don't know it'd be like unless you try it. You know there's something between you."

"Well, I—" she started, then shrugged off.

"A comfort zone a beautiful place but nothing ever grows there, Amanda, remember?" Beth told her back her own words, "You said it yourself." She looked at the older woman, "Are you really content with what you have?"

Amanda gave her a look, and shrugged, "Look, I know you're…scared, but hurt's the part of the package, too," Beth said then.

Amanda huffed, shaking her head. "You know I'm getting to see how you made Daryl into kissing you in public…"

"Talk to him," Beth insisted. She wanted her to be happy, really happy, as she also understood something she hadn't realized before. Amanda was very like Daryl, with the same insecurities and fears, and a part of her wondered that was the reason why she'd wanted the other woman stay at the first place, saw something worth to believe in her. If she…saved Amanda, she would've saved Daryl, too. She was it was stupid, but it was there, stood as a reality. And Rick was calling Daryl as his brother, too, had seen something in him more than being a redneck asshole, like Beth did, and she was hoping Rick would see it in Amanda, too.

But Amanda was shaking her head again, "Talk to him what, Beth?" she asked back, "I don't even know what I'm feeling."

Beth gave her a look, like she was stupid. "Then tell him that. Don't tell him it was just sex!"

# # #

Amanda felt like a moron, walking to him, Beth's words turning in her mind, and she really hated getting out of her comfort zone, putting herself out there, opening herself up to another-risking herself like that, giving them power to hurt her back. Why the hell she'd said yes again?

You could be more.

She was really fucking hating this. And she knew she was right, she would just be used as a band-aid, prettily healing his wounds until he was ready yet again to find himself another wife—hell, he would even want to have another child, it wasn't like that the turn had stopped him before… but there was that little, nagging what if inside her head again—with a voice very sounding like Beth's, asking her what if he wanted to be with her…?

She fucking hated what ifs! And seriously what more she could be in a zombie apocalypse anyways? They were barely surviving here. She had eaten almost nothing in two days! Her eyes caught at Whitney, as the other woman lay to sleep, crying herself into unconsciousness, her fisted hand into her mouth to muffle her cries. Amanda sighed. Whitney was going to die, she could not survive this, and Amanda had better ready herself for it.

Rick was at the first night watch as she walked toward the perimeters, a few yards away from where others slept. When he saw her approaching he didn't say anything—but watched her silently. She sat down on the ground beside him and wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling her legs at her chest. "I—I would've come bringing gifts, but I don't have anything," she said as a greeting.

Rick grunted out. She sighed out, and decided to go with Beth's words, and told him truth as simple as she could be, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it. It—it wasn't just sex—" she closed her eyes, breathing out, and when she reopened them, Rick was giving her a look, "There—there's this thing between us…" she continued, "I don't know what it's…but I know it's there."

Still looking at her, Rick nodded, and said, "Yes."

She felt like a weight—a weight she wasn't aware of its existence had lifted off her chest. "But I-" she stopped, swallowed, and tried again before she chickened out, "But I'm—we could—I mean," she shook her head, breathing out again, and let it out in her inhale, "Maybe we shall…try to find out?"

Rick was still staring at her as she stumbled on the words before she had managed it out then gave her a faint smirk, the corner of his lips slightly curved up, and made that little grunt out of his nose… She felt heat emit out of her every pore, flustered, and she really felt like a moron. And he was being a jerk. She sneered at him, starting to rise on her feet, but his hand caught her at the wrist again and pulled her back. He then slowly leaned down forward in on her and kissed her gently at the lips for a second, and pulled back. "Go sleep, we leave at the dawn tomorrow. You're coming with me."

She couldn't help it. She smiled like she meant it for the first time in years.

# # #

For the rest of the week, every morning they left the group and came back at noon, empty handed. Before the second week started, Michonne shook her head, and told what everyone was thinking, "We should stop. This isn't working. We need to get back to the road."

Rick looked at Carl, holding Judith in his arms. She was flustered, her eyes were red even though she wasn't crying. Her baby doll's eyes were always red now. Under his beard, his jaw twitched. She hated seeing Judith like this, his beautiful baby, and the bitter taste of failure filled in him again with anger, he'd told them he was going to find a place one way or another way, and he was failing.

Her eyes turned to Amanda. Her hair was plastered at her face with perspiration, her cheeks dirty, the white shirt of her uniform now was almost grey under her denim jacket, one side of her trousers tore when they'd rolled over a ditch yesterday, trying to get away from a sudden small group of walkers. The clothes once had been a part of her uniform, though she didn't look like anything like a cop now, but she never did, not really. More than once Rick had thought of asking her why she'd chosen to be a police officer but he hadn't asked it. She'd had another episode with Whitney this morning, so her lips had that turn down that Rick had learned to stay away.

So, yeah, they were trying… whatever the hell that meant. Most of the times they were still at each other's throat, but they were trying to find out.

But then again Michonne was right. This wasn't working, and they had to find a place. He knew Amanda always listened to the reason, but there was still that downturn at her lips, and Rick wondered not once if it was not only because of the idea, but also about who had suggested it. There was that tension between her and Michonne, always had been, something that Rick had no desires to get into it.

But he knew Amanda always listened to the reason, so he nodded. "Michonne is right," he said, "This isn't going anywhere."

Daryl shook his head, "The road is dangerous."

"And shorter," Rick shot back. The road was dangerous, if not because of walkers but because of people, but on asphalt they could walk quicker, and time was becoming of the essence. They needed to find a place. They'd stayed out in the woods so long. Rick looked at Abraham, who nodded him back, and then Glenn.

Glenn nodded, too. "Yeah," the man said, and looked at Beth, "We could always find monsters to hunt then."

Rick's eyes snapped at the younger woman, as she sent a glare at Glenn, but didn't talk. Beth also recognized the reason when she saw it, too.

"All right, let's move out," Rick said, picking up Judith from Carl.

# # #

The road was hell. Or the hell was a road, a never ending greyness that kept going forever. Time was irrelevant, inconsequential.

They were seated at the banks of the road, each in its own misery. A few walkers were following them behind—but no one gave a damn. Beth wondered if anyone would pick a difference between them from afar. Once she'd thought how Andrea would have missed Daryl as a walker, but now she understood.

"I can't—" Beth forced out through parched lips, shaking her head. She was so thirsty she could barely feel her hunger anymore. Daryl had come back from hunting, only with a few squirrels and he told he'd seen more animals fallen dead to the walkers, but he couldn't find water.

"Yes, you can," Daryl told her simply, but Beth shook her head again. "Beth, close your eyes," Daryl said then.

"No…"

"Beth, it's going to be okay. Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Tears prickled in her eyes, and she did as she was told. She had to. She'd just seen Amanda this morning doing it, even forcing Whitney doing it, but… Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth… and felt the sticky twirling softness inside her mouth, and she almost hurled it down, then a second later, she forced herself to close her mouth, and ate the worms Daryl had picked up off the dirt.

She then lay over Daryl's lap and cried.

# # #

"She's not going to make it—" Amanda whispered at Rick, her eyes turning from Whitney.

"It's not your fault," Rick said, looking at her, craning his neck over Judith to give her a look, "You've done everything you can for her."

"I know," Amanda said, "I know it—but it still...feels like I'm failing her, failing all of them…" She shook her head, "I'm fucking hating this."

Rick gave her a faint smile, lips not parting, "I know."

He loosened one arm from Judith, and gently touched her fingertips with his. Her head spun around as she felt them at her skin, but Amanda blamed her hunger for the dizziness.

Judith started crying again, and Rick pulled back his hand, wrapping his arm around her again—hopping the baby in his embrace to hush her—humming to her ear, and for a moment, for a moment, Amanda wondered how it would feel having a family, having Rick's baby… She pushed the thought away.

She turned and walked back to Abraham, "Hey, muscles," she called out, and asked, "Care to share your drink?"

Rick sent her a glare as she took the bottle Abraham handed to her, but pretended not to notice it.

She took a sip from the drink.

# # #

Sasha broke the formation as they stood at the ditch to roll the walkers down from the hill, but instead took a shot, killing the closest one to her—turning everything to shit. Rick shouted, "Flank both sides! We're taking them."

Michonne pushed Sasha back, "Stay back, you're not well."

Beth wanted to laugh. None of them were well. She took her knife and killed a walker nearby, and watched him as the dead fell down, her forearm twinging. Her slashes were already healed, but they still twitched, like a phantasm. She'd heard that people who had missing limbs always felt it as a phantom itch, and her father had used to say he still felt his leg—so she guessed she was feeling that ghost pain, too, itching. Her eyes wandered the fallen bodies… and she shook her head. "We look like them," she whispered.

Daryl's head snapped up at her, hard, stern eyes staring at her, glinting. He crouched at her in one knee, and forced her head to look at him, "We ain't them, girl," he said.

Looking back at him, Beth nodded.

From a few steps away, Amanda swayed on her legs, almost got bit by a walker at the neck before Rick came to her side, and nailed the undead with his machete. He grabbed Amanda's arm and steadied her, "If you take just one sip more from that bottle, I'm gonna rip off your damn throat myself—" He hissed at her, throwing her off away.

Amanda fell on the ground. Beth knew she was crying, too.

# # #

Beth had always loved dogs the most, but at the end she decided dog meat tasted better than worms.

No one talked, but they all ate it in silence.

# # #

"My gun—" Amanda almost screamed one morning, which one Beth wouldn't know anymore. They were at hell, a never ending greyness that kept going forever, and time was irrelevant, inconsequential, "Where is my gun?"

Beth's eyes wandered, counting people, and then she knew the answer. Rick rushed at Amanda's side, "What happened?"

"My gun—it's gone—" she paused, her green eyes wandering too, frantically open, but clear, she hadn't put a drop of drink in her mouth after Rick's ultimatum, "Where's Whitney?"

"I saw her going in the woods…" Daryl said… "Morning calls…"

Amanda started running in the woods, they all followed.

They found the old woman sitting on a tree stump, her back rested on the tree's trunk, her legs stretched out, and Amanda's gun resting in her lap.

Seeing them, the woman brought it against her temple.

"Whitney, stop!" Amanda cried over, running to her, "Don't do this."

"It never ends—" the withering woman said back, "I want it end."

"It will-" Amanda said, sitting in front of her a few inches apart, "It will. We will find a place, and we'll be safe again. Please," she held out her palm over the older woman, "Give me the gun."

Whitney shook her head. "You're lying… Like Dawn did. There is no going back from this, no safe places. This world—" she said, looking around, "This world belong to them now."

"Whitney—" Amanda started, but the gunshot cut her words off, as blood and brain pieces sputtered off at Amanda.

Amanda screamed, and Beth remembered again this was how the world ended now, always with screams.

# # #

Amanda wondered if the sky was crying because of Whitney, or because there were still brain pieces inside her hair. She felt her tears mixed with rain as she lay over on the asphalt—she should've never saved her—never should've saved anyone—she should've never tried—

Rick's hand grabbed her at her elbow, bending down and pulled her up. "Enough, Amanda!" he told her adamantly, "You know she wasn't going to make it. You gotta let it go."

She shook her head, rain pouring over her, and Rick Grimes was one of sonofabitch, "I-I—" she said, storm raging above them, and stopped, "She said I was like Dawn."

Rick held her at shoulders, "You're not like Dawn. Dawn didn't make it, you did. So stop this, but make it."

Once again, Amanda found herself not be able to decide if she should kiss him or kick him, so she settled with nodding. "I saw a barn this morning looking for water," Daryl shouted over the storm, "We can go there for the night!"

Rick's hand went through her wet locks, and he held the side of her head firmly, "We're going to make it. Trust me."

In answer, Amanda nodded again. She could always trust Rick Grimes on that.

# # #

Daryl had brought them to the shelter. Outside the storm was still booming, a raging fury of the nature, but here at least they would be safe a little. Maggie and Glenn had gone to check the room at the back, and Daryl gave a check around with Rick to settle.

They had a roof over their head once again, at least, and they needed it more than ever. They all had passed two weeks in hell, and that old woman's suicide was the last straw, blowing her head off, and then Daryl knew he'd needed to find a roof for them to stay—and lay their burdens down.

Beth had started touched her forearm, too, he hadn't missed.

So he had gone wandering, trying—the cabins in the forests were mundane things, there had to be one—they were getting closer to the D.C., the population of the countryside would set them up for emergencies but instead of a cabin, he'd found the barn.

Inside it smelled horseshit, but Daryl barely minded it.

Rick built up a fire. Carl and Judith were sleeping with Carol beside the fire. Maggie and Glenn were at the back room, who knew perhaps they'd been doing it, Sasha was with Tyreese, the man had made it too, feverish but still up at his feet. Abraham and his people settled down at the fire, where Beth and Amanda sat at Rick's side, with Michonne at the middle as Daryl stood over them, his eyes at Beth.

She'd made it, too. After the first time, she'd eaten worms, she had almost puked but managed to keep them down, didn't whine even once, but did whatever he had told her. Daryl had wondered how it'd have been if they had been stayed alone in the woods if Grady hadn't kidnapped her, but if this was the answer, Daryl wasn't glad. Things were getting worse. The old woman, Whitney, was right about that. This world belonged to the dead now, but they couldn't give up.

We look like them… Daryl remembered Beth's broken words.

No, never. She would never be one of them. Never.

Abraham looked at Carl and the sleeping ass-kicker, and grunted out taking a sip from his bottle. Amanda thankfully stayed off of it, because every time she took a sip, Daryl half expected Rick to kick her ass for it. "I used to pity the children who born in this world, but perhaps they're luckier," the words almost slurred even though Daryl knew the former major could still kick some majestic ass, "They never knew the world the way it was before."

"Children always are more capable to adaption," Amanda said, "More flexible."

Rick nodded slowly. "They get to grow up in this world," he said, and Daryl didn't really like hearing all this heavy shit with children, adaption, and growing up, "while we, grown ups, have to get used to it."

"This isn't the world," Michonne insisted, "This isn't it."

Beth snorted, "There is no going back from this, Michonne," she said, "This is the world. Even if we reached to D.C., it won't be any different than here."

Rick gave them a look then, wandering his eyes at each of them. "Maybe it's, maybe it isn't, we don't know," he told them basically what he'd told before they had decided to look for the wolves, too, "But this's our reality until we do." He paused, as if to make his words much clearer, "Until then this is what we have to live with."

Rick then started recounting a tale, "When I was a kid, I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war." He paused for a second before he continued, "He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff, so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him. But he got real quiet. He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day he woke up and told himself, 'Rest in peace. Now get up, and go to war.' And then after a few years of pretending he was dead, he made it out alive."

Rick's eyes found them again, fire glinting in the depths, and Daryl understood the point even before Rick continued, and it felt wrong… something seizing in his chest, and he found himself looking at Beth as she listened to Rick carefully. "That's the trick of it, I think," Rick went on, "We do what we need to do, and then we get to live. But no matter what we find in D.C., I know we'll be okay, because this is how we survive." He paused, "We tell ourselves that we are the walking dead."

We look like them… And he remembered Beth's limp form in his arms as he held her pulse, and then her slashed forearm from the wrist up to the elbow. Daryl shot up from his post. "Nah…" he shook his head, "We ain't them…" he told Rick, his voice turning sterner, and he leaned down, waving his arm at the man, "We ain't them."

He turned around and started walking away. His insides were raging, another storm was raging inside him. They weren't dead…not yet, not yet...

He paced down and forth at the wooden doors, his hand holding the crossbow, snapshots passing through his mind…he fucking hated it, he fucking hated all of it… then he heard her voice, "Daryl."

He turned around and looked at her. She walked to him slowly, and outside another lighting stuck and lightened inside the barn through the cracks of the wooden walls, and she looked like a goddess walking to her—moonlight and lighting shining over her figure… she stopped and held his hand, and turned his hand upward, opening his palm, revealing the veins and scars over his wrist.

She traced the lines with her fingers, feeling her pulse and she raised it up and kissed it, kissed his pulse—"We might look like them, but we aren't them," she said, still holding his wrist below her lips, "Not yet."

He grabbed her, hauling her up in his arms, and spinning them around, he pushed her in a dark corner at the door he knew out of the sight, his lips already in her mouth, driven mad with hunger, desire and fear, fear of losing her—and she was there, just against him—pressed on him, her heart beating fast against his—her hand still around his wrist, and he could not just have enough of her…

He dropped her on her feet and started unbuttoning her jeans as she started doing the same. She kicked them down off quickly as he took her waist and raised her up again. "Legs—around my hip," he roughed out, barely containing himself, and he knew he had to stop, this shouldn't be with Beth, but he couldn't stop…he just couldn't… He had to take her…he had to make her his… He needed this. She wrapped her legs around him as she was told, and he pushed her underwear aside and slammed into her in one swift motion, hard and straight. He placed his hand over her mouth so that her yelp wouldn't be heard, even over the raging storm—because he knew she had screamed, she was still so tight…so inexperienced for going rough like this, but he just couldn't help it… Holding her tightly against the door, he drove in her, in and out, he drove her, hard and fast, as fast as he could get until she couldn't do anything else than holding on him tightly as he pounded her in a frenzy, his lips tasting, biting, scratching, and he was like an animal—a raging, grunting, groaning animal—fucking Beth Greene hard and rough against a damn door in a fucking barn, just a few yards away from others, his hand covering her mouth, and he had never felt more alive all in his life before.

His groins were hot, coiling, and the world was tightening inside him, he felt nearing to the end, and as his mind turning, he bit her neck hard, and spilled himself in her, coming shuttering.

When the word settled back in, he slipped off and she slipped off of his arms too, and he rested his forehead on her shoulder, still trembling, but he wasn't sure of what… "I'm sorry, Beth," he mumbled out, spent and drained, "I'm so sorry."

But instead of kicking his ass like he'd deserved, she just hugged him back. "It's okay, Daryl, it's okay. I'm still not dead."

He laughed bitterly, "You deserve more than this," he said, his head still on her shoulder.

"I'm not complaining."

He lifted his head up, "You should," he told her then as he bent down and pulled her jeans back on her again, and buttoned her up. He tidied himself too, trying not to think of how he'd come inside her, then he groaned inwardly. Beth seemed like missing that bit.

"Well—still not complaining," she told him, "So get over it." She rested himself over him, and gave him a smile, "It wasn't that bad, either. I—even enjoyed it."

He squinted at her, she smiled further, "I love you whole, Daryl Dixon," she said then, "This and that, whole package."

Lost wordless, Daryl stared at her back, as she smiled even bigger.

A/N: Hurray, for the first "I love you" :) I didn't want sex be explicit, not my cup of tea, but to express a state of mind-you know, have a meaning beside the mechanics. Hope it was tasteful.

Like you must already guess, I enjoy very much writing Rick and Amanda, too, I hope you enjoy reading them too. In Alexandria, their parts will get even heavier, I guess, as Rick is...uh...sort of loosing his shit at Alexandria.

So the next we will Aaron, I think!

Until then!