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FIVE. Helping Hands.
The prison miraculously had running water from a series of pumps that pulled in water from a nearby network of creeks and a larger river.
Beth let out a sigh of pleasure as she stood beneath the showerhead and the lukewarm, bordering on cold, water poured over her. She had left Jamie in the care of Maggie so she would be able to wash herself off, having not been able to do so since giving birth. Her body still ached a little but her daddy had said that considering she had just pushed a watermelon through a water bottle, that was to be expected. Beth had winced at that visual but she didn't necessarily disagree with it.
Carol had found a supplies closet where the bars of soap given to the prisoners were stored and Beth lathered her body and hair with the white odorless suds, sighing again. She already felt a thousand times better – more like a human – and the old her would have wanted to stay there under the water all day but now, she didn't dare even think of staying away from Jamie for more than a half hour.
There were even razors – which was shocking to just about all of them because this was a prison and razors could obviously be used as weapons.
"It would be considered a privilege," Rick explained. "They're the cheap, disposable kinds. One use and the guards would take them away after the prisoners were done shaving."
Beth used one of the razors now, shaving her legs, almost forgetting what smooth legs felt like. She washed her body and hair thoroughly and then turned off the water, wrapping the scratchy towel around her body that Carol had also found in the same closet. There were combs, too – flimsy and plastic – and Beth went to one of the sinks, looking into the mirror and began getting all of the tangles from her hair. She couldn't help but smile, feeling so refreshed. It was amazing what being clean could do to a person.
On the run with Daryl, Maggie had been able to get her clothes that fit her now that she was no longer pregnant and after drying her hair and body off, she pulled on the new underwear and clasped on the bra. Maggie had also gotten her some clothes to wear – when Beth felt like she was ready to wear them again. For the moment, the varieties of tee-shirt and sweats that the prisoners had had to wear were perfect. There were sweatpants and even sweat-shorts and now that her legs were shaved, Beth tugged on a pair of blue sweat-shorts and another grey tee-shirt. It was summer and even with the windows open, the prison was hot. Between her shower, shaved legs and now shorts, Beth was feeling quite refreshed.
Like a different person.
She tugged on white ankle socks and slipped her feet into a pair of green fleece slippers – both finds of Maggie's from the run. That had been a very good run. This prison had been a very good find. After losing the farm and going in nothing but circles – always hungry and tired and dirty – all of this felt too good to be true. She had taken a shower, smelled clean, was wearing fresh clothes and her son was here. Jamie was here, safe, and so far healthy.
It was almost too much. So much good was happening and it was overwhelming.
Now that she was finished seeing to herself, Beth took her towel, soap, and comb along with her dirty undergarments and went back to their cell block. Maggie was sitting in what was now hers and Jamie's cell, cooing to her nephew, and the smile was constant on her face as she watched him, holding him in her arms.
When Maggie heard her appear in the entryway of the cell, she looked at her younger sister.
"He is perfect, Bethy," she said and Beth smiled, setting her things on the desk, and then coming to them, sitting down beside her on the bottom bunk of the bed. They were quiet, both watching Jamie as he dozed in her arms, his tiny hands curled into tiny fists and his nose scrunching. "God, I was so mad at you," Maggie then admitted in a soft voice.
"I know," Beth nodded, swallowing. "I was mad at myself. And I know everyone else…" she trailed off, feeling a burning in the back of her eyes.
She wasn't sure why but she suddenly thought of Daryl. He had never talked to her before and then Hershel had told the group that she was pregnant and after that, he acted like she had leprosy. Any time he found her to be too close to him, he had quickly distanced himself. And she hadn't blamed him.
She knew they all thought she was an idiot and even more of a burden than she was before. She knew they would have almost have been relieved if something had happened to her so they wouldn't have to worry about a pregnant girl anymore. Yes, they would all be upset initially but eventually, they would sigh with relief at not having to worry about her or a crying baby.
"You don't have to worry about me or Jamie," Beth told her sister and Maggie looked at her.
"You're my sister. I'm always going to worry about you," Maggie said.
Beth gave her a small smile. "Thank you for everything you got for me today," she said.
Maggie smiled. "I just got the clothes. Daryl picked out everything else for this little guy."
"He did?" Beth knew she sounded completely surprised and that was because she was.
She looked at everything now piled in her cell. A box of diapers they had been able to find, the baby bouncer, all of the clothes and other baby things, a stuffed bear and a stuffed beaver AND a crib. An actual crib still in its box and waiting to be assembled. He was also already wearing the white and blue striped onesie they had found – one of the many they had found. Jamie had himself quite the wardrobe now and Beth silently prayed that her son would give all of these clothes many wears.
Maggie nodded. "He was determined we get as much as we could find."
After Maggie handed Jamie back to her so she could begin her guard shift outside, Beth cradled Jamie close and stood up. She had to go find Daryl. She knew he wouldn't want her thanks but she was going to give it to him anyway. How could she not? He had treated her like a leper but now, even though she and her son were just mere numbers to him – ten and eleven – he was doing what he could to take care of them. He needed to be thanked because she didn't care what he said. He didn't have to do any of this.
Setting Jamie down into his new bouncer, Beth looked into the mirror that was drilled firmly into the wall and with her comb again, she began parting the damp locks and pulling them back into a tight braid. She then picked up Jamie once more. She nuzzled her son's head, smiling, giving him a soft kiss, and cradling him securely in her arms, she left the cell block and headed outside.
"There he is," Lori immediately appeared, a small smile on the woman's face. "May I?"
"Of course," Beth gently passed Jamie into the older woman's experienced arms. It meant so much to her that the family seemed to love Jamie so much already.
Beth noticed how tired Lori looked and the question of whether she was alright was poised on her tongue, ready to leap off, but she stopped herself before she could. She and Lori had gotten so close – ever since the farm and Beth's attempt, something they never spoke of. But after that, the two women had gotten closer, Beth needing a woman close to a mother and Lori being a natural nurturer and her own son pulling himself away from her.
And since Beth was an observer, since she knew she contributed nothing to the group except being another mouth to feed, she knew that things were strained between Lori and Rick; had been ever since Rick confessed to have killing Shane. Beth knew it definitely wasn't any of her business though and she was never going to ask about it.
So she didn't ask if Lori was alright, not wanting to pry. Maybe Lori would talk to her if she ever wanted to. She knew no one else would talk to her about anything of importance in regards to the prison or their plans but Beth had always been a good listener and if Lori needed to unload her thoughts, Beth was there for her as Lori had been there for her all those months ago when she had been at her absolute darkest.
"Have you seen Daryl?" She asked.
If Lori thought Beth asking to see that particular member of their group was strange, her face showed none of it. "I think Rick put him in charge of the generators," Lori said, never lifting her eyes from Jamie, smiling down at the baby. "I think your dad's with him."
Beth nodded and she wasn't too sure why she felt slight disappointment at that. She had wanted to thank Daryl when it was just him without other ears around but then she wondered why it mattered. She just wanted to thank him and besides, it was Daryl. He had always made her a bit nervous – fascinating to her yet intimidating – and she doubted he would want to be alone with her. They had found themselves alone together a few times already over the past couple of days and she was sure, to him, it was a few times too many.
After taking Jamie back, she began walking in the general direction Lori had given her as to where the generator room was. As she walked, she looked around. Everyone was working so hard and she wanted to work, too; to do something and get her hands just as dirty – literally – as the rest of them. She knew Rick said she only had to take care of Jamie but that wasn't enough. She had to do more to show that she just wasn't the stupid little girl who had gotten pregnant during the apocalypse. She could be more. She was more.
She found the room and heard a clanging of tools from inside followed by some swift curses. She paused in the doorway and looked down to Jamie, the baby letting out a tiny yawn before he fell back asleep. She smiled faintly and then looked back into the room, trying to get her stomach from clenching with nerves as if she was rising the first hill of a rollercoaster, about to go over.
She took a step into the room and then another, looking around the utility room, sunshine able to pour in through the windows. She heard another clanging of tools and then Daryl stepped out from behind the large generator in the back of the room.
"Motherfucker," he grunted, taking a swipe at the bulk of metal with his foot. But then he saw her standing there and he froze.
She felt her lips twitching as if she was about to smile as she looked at him. "Trouble?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry," he mumbled. He looked to the generator and then back to her. "Need somethin'?"
"Is my dad in here?" Beth asked.
He shook his head. "Went to go help Glenn with somethin'." He was staring at her now, his eyes focused on her and Beth found herself staring right back. "He can't understand nothin' yet, right?" He then asked.
Beth couldn't help but laugh slightly. "Even if he could, I wouldn't worry about him repeating you anytime soon," she said and was amazed when she saw his own lips twitch. Was Daryl Dixon about to smile? No, false alarm but still, for a moment, she thought it might happen and because of something she had said.
"You've got small hands," Daryl suddenly said.
Beth blinked at him for a moment. "Yes?" She said and realized she said it like a question as if to show him her confusion over his rather unexpected and random statement.
"Generator's leakin' oil and there's a screw in there that needs tightenin'. I can't reach it," he explained.
"Yes," Beth nodded eagerly before he could even really ask her anything. She looked around the sparse room then, noticing a cardboard box lying on its side. She looked down to Jamie and Daryl seemed to read her mind, having been following her eyes. He went and collected the box, bringing it over. He was wearing a that vest of his and he took it off, folding it in half and laying it down on the bottom of the box so Jamie would have something cushioning him from the hard floor.
Beth kissed Jamie on the head. "Just for a minute, Jamie," she promised him and then cradling the back of his head, she slowly lowered him into the box as carefully as she could. "Wow," she smiled. "Perfect fit."
She looked down at Jamie for a moment and then lifted her eyes to Daryl. She smiled at him and again, she could have sworn his lips were twitching. She wondered if he ever smiled and if he did, what it would take for him to do so. She felt a burning in the pit of her stomach and she knew what it was. Determination. Perhaps with some stubbornness mixed in. She wanted to get Daryl Dixon to smile.
Without another word, she gave one more look down to Jamie, the baby looking drowsily content in his cardboard box and then stepped past Daryl, going to the generator. The side panel was hanging down and she stood in front of it, looking at the insides of the machine. She could feel Daryl come up behind her and if she didn't feel his presence, she would have immediately felt his warmth. He reached his arm past her, brushing her upper arm, and he pointed to where he needed her.
"See that one?" Daryl asked.
Beth took a step closer and nodded, reaching her own hand into the machine. It was just a screw and yet, it was so much more than that. Time to prove to him and to everyone that she wasn't just a number. She could be useful, too.
Her hand slipped between the wires that Daryl hadn't been able to get to to and under her breath, she whispered, "Righty-tighty. Lefty-loosey."
She knew Daryl could hear her because she could have sworn she heard a soft snort from behind her. She ignored it though and concentrated on twisting the screw, tightening it as much as she could. When she couldn't move it anymore, she pulled her hand back and took a step away, looking at him.
Daryl took her place and looked into the machine, seeing her work and nodding. She felt herself smiling as he looked at her again. He didn't say anything and she suddenly remembered why she had come in here, looking for him in the first place.
"Thank you for everything you got for Jamie," she said.
He shrugged, glancing towards the box before back to her. "Didn' get that much," he said.
That wasn't exactly true. "More than he had just this morning," she smiled. "I can't thank you enough."
He looked at her though she could see him shifting his body as if uncomfortable. "A baby should 'ave some nice things if he's brave enough to be born in this world."
Beth didn't know what it was but she felt her stomach flip then. She wanted to ask him why he was caring so much but she knew he would probably just remind her that she was ten and her son was eleven and Daryl had taken it upon himself to look after the entire group. And that's who she and Jamie were. Numbers in that group. If it had been any of the other women in the group having a baby, Daryl would have done the exact same thing for them.
She wasn't special.
Still, she couldn't help herself. She told herself not to. Screamed at herself not to. But she couldn't stop herself. She stepped into him and she slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, right beneath his chin. She felt him flinch slightly at the contact, as if he had been expecting her to hit him, and then she felt him go completely rigid. He obviously hated anyone touching him and yet, she couldn't stop hugging him. His heartbeat was racing in her ear.
"Thank you, Daryl," she said to him softly.
She felt a hand – his hand – lightly on her elbow and she expected him to push her away.
But he didn't and she stayed there for just another moment more. He was so firm and hard and warm. He smelled like dirt and blood and yet, it was something so inherently Daryl, it gave her an odd sense of comfort as it swirled up her nostrils.
…
Daryl remained stiff as he lowered his eyes to the head of blonde now on his chest. What was she doing? And why was he letting her do it? His hand went to her elbow as if he was going to push her away but instead, his fingers stilled as soon as they touched her skin. How the hell did this girl have such soft skin? Probably the softest thing he had touched in a long time. His fingers itched to run the length of her arm and feel more but he was able to stop himself before he could do something so stupid.
"You're welcome," he grunted, his chin brushing against the top of her head, and she pulled back, her arms still around his waist, and she smiled up at him.
He stood there and stared down at her, still stiff because she was still touching him and why was she still touching him? But then as if she could read his mind, she slipped from him, her smile still present but smaller now, just as soft, and she took a step back. He ignored the sudden coolness he felt against his chest now that she was no longer pressed against it and he watched as she went to the box, lifting Jamie up in her arms again.
She looked back to him. "Do you need help with anything else?" She asked, looking hopeful.
He shook his head and he saw the way something in her eyes dimmed a little but he figured he had just imagined it because then she was smiling again. She nodded her head and turned, shifting Jamie in her arms.
"Beth," he heard himself say her name before she could go.
She instantly turned back to him and he saw that damn hope in her eyes again and he knew he wasn't imagining it this time. And he wasn't sure why he had said her name but now that she was standing there, waiting, he scrambled to think of something to say to her. But he didn't know why he had said her name; why he hadn't wanted her to walk from the room. Why did he care what she did? She wasn't his responsibility. He just had to make sure he kept them all fed and that he kept the walkers on the other side of the fence. Anything more than that, let her go to her old man or sister or anyone else.
He had absolutely no obligation here to her.
"You got anythin' else to do?" He heard himself ask.
"If you need help, I can help," she said and he could have been deaf and still hear the eagerness in her voice.
He nodded and went back to the generator. Beth came back and bent down, putting Jamie back down in the box. Daryl dropped down onto the ground and slid himself beneath the bulk of the machine, looking up at the mechanics now above him. He had never worked on a generator before but a machine was a machine and Daryl had a mind for these kinds of things.
He heard Beth shuffle beside him and then she lowered herself down onto the ground.
"Flathead," he grunted and he expected her to ask what that meant but seconds later, a flathead screwdriver was in his outstretched hand and he couldn't help but be surprised.
He expected her to talk endlessly but she sat there quietly and waited and as soon as he said another tool, it was in his hand within seconds. He grunted and swore softly as he worked and when he saw another problem with the machine, he sighed deeply.
"Need your hands again," he grumbled.
He heard her shuffle and then she was sliding beneath the generator next to him, her arm pressed to his. He tried to scoot away to put at least an inch between them but there wasn't much space underneath there to begin with and he had nowhere to go.
He suppressed an irritated sigh. He should have just waited until Glenn was able to help him. Glenn had small hands.
Not only did she had soft skin but she also smelled good. She had probably just come out of the shower – she did look clean – but even before that, while they had been out there for the past few months, if he got too close to her, he had always noticed it. He never got it because while the rest of them smelled less than pleasant, there was Beth, smelling like a fucking rose. And that didn't make any damn sense. He tried to stay far from her, not liking the way it always tickled his nose.
He reached up and held apart some of the wires. "'Nother screw," he said. "This time, lefty-loosey it," he heard himself tease her. He smirked when she gently elbowed him in the arm and then watched as she slipped her hand up between the wires. "You feel it?" He asked.
After a moment, she sighed softly and shook her head, pulling her hand back. "I'm sorry," she said quietly and sounded as if she had just committed some grave error.
His brow furrowed, turning his head to look at her. "What the Hell you sorry for?" He couldn't help but ask but she didn't say anything. There was a small flashlight beside him and he picked it up, flipping it on and then putting it between his teeth, shining it upwards.
He kept holding the wires apart and he ignored her as best as he could as she leaned in a little closer to him, her leg now pressed to his, and her hand slipped up again, her fingers able to find the screw now with no problem. He watched her twist it to the left and she turned it until it fell off. She carefully held it in her fingers and brought it down.
Just as she was handing it to him, it was like a crack of lightning and Jamie began crying.
Beth, startled, started to sit up obviously forgetting that she couldn't and she hit her head on the metal above her. He wondered if she even felt it though. She kept wiggling until she was out from underneath the generator and then she was hurrying to the box, scooping the baby up. Daryl followed, sliding out and standing up, carefully pocketing the screw for now. Beth was rocking Jamie in her arms and not paying attention as he walked up to her.
Even he didn't know what he was doing but he did it nonetheless. He reached a hand out and his fingers touched her forehead. She gasped in surprise and Daryl quickly ripped his hand away, feeling the tips of his fingers burning. Why the Hell did he just touch her? Wasn't the hug bad enough?
"You're prob'ly gonna have a bump," he informed her.
Beth nodded, looking at him with those big eyes of hers, and she didn't say anything.
"He a'ight?" Daryl asked, looking down to the wet-faced baby in her arms, the baby already quieting down.
Beth nodded again, looking down to Jamie as well. "The ground is too hard – even with your vest – and I left him down for too long. If I help you again, I'll need to cushion the box with a few blankets."
Daryl nodded. He didn't say anything.
She was looking at him and it looked like she wanted to say something. He stood there and waited, wondering what it could be that she had to say to him, but she just kept quiet.
He and Beth had never had anything to say to one another before. But now with these past few days, all of this talking and being around one another, it was making Daryl start to feel as if he had just smacked his head, too.
He opened his mouth to say something else. He realized he was ready to actually talk because he didn't want her to leave just yet. What the Hell was going on with him?
But just as he was ready to say whatever word vomit came out first, an alarm began to blare. Somewhere in the prison, there was an alarm blaring like an alarm clock suddenly waking a person from a deep sleep.
…
THANK YOU! I absolutely love this chapter. I hope you did, too.
Fun fact about me - "Lock Up" is one of my favorite TV shows, where a documentary crew goes into different prisons and interviews guards, prisoners, etc. I also read very strange books lol I know prisons and I am NOT a Rick fan but him finding the prison truly was one of the smartest things he ever did. He was right. It would be an absolute goldmine for their family. Prisons are mini-cities so there will be a lot for them there.
Also, a quick note. Jamie's name is Jamie. However, when I write, my fingers work faster than my brain and my spellcheck recognizes both Jamie and Jaime and I don't always catch it when it does.