Thank you for all of the reviews, and follows I received on the last chapter, I really do appreciate it :) I try to respond to all of my reviewers, but it being so close to the holidays I hardly have time! But I promise that I won't let Christmas get in the way of my updates :) I'm on the airplane on the way home from GA, which was exciting. I got to see the infamous Greene farm! Anyways! Here's chapter 8 :) love you all!
The night was dark, cold, and nonetheless foreboding as Daryl and Beth approached a massive warehouse that surely housed dead bodies and criminal secrets. Beth gulped and looked over at Daryl for a moment, who seemed to be perfectly at home. Finding no solace in this, Beth simply steeled herself and trudged behind him.
"By the way, where did ya tell yer sister ya were goin'?" Daryl questioned, a dark eyebrow raised.
"To the library to study," Beth shrugged. "She believes that easily. I'm a good student."
Daryl bit his lip. "Bein' book-smart will hardly help ya win a fight, Priss."
Beth narrowed her eyes. "We will see about that." She was actually counting on a fair amount of her psychological knowledge to be put to good use; getting inside an opponent's head could be just as dangerous as smashing it with one's fist.
Daryl slid the rusted metal door aside and it gave a shuddering groan, one that reverberated through Beth's body in a similar manner. Clutching her gloved hands in each other, she walked forward when Daryl gave a silent motion with his hand.
It was dark at first, until Daryl closed the door and harsh overhead fluorescent lights clicked on inside the massive space. Merle stalked from around the corner of a pile of crates, revealing his ever-stony exterior, a wicked smirk seemingly permanent on his face. Michonne was slowly treading behind him, hands on her hips.
"Priss, welcome ta my fortress," he approached with his arms held wide, the knife glittering in the light.
"Some fortress," Beth replied snidely and Merle snarled.
"Where are the guys?" Daryl asked, his voice laced with confusion.
"They ain't comin' tonight. Didn' want ta overwhelm our shiny new commodity," Merle smiled evilly.
Beth rolled her eyes and looked around for a place to sit, about to open her mouth to complain of the lack of chairs when suddenly she was punched instead.
Beth stumbled backward, holding her hand over her mouth and tasting blood. "What the fuck?" She glared at Michonne who was rubbing her knuckles.
"Ya have ta expect ta git yer ass kicked even when there aint a fight. Be aware o' yer surroundin's at all times an' always assume that somebody is 'bout ta punch ya in the face," Merle replied conversationally.
Daryl looked over at Beth with an almost apologetic shrug. "He's righ', ya need t always be on the lookout."
Beth huffed and wiped the back of her hand over her lip. "That doesn't mean you can just punch me in the face whenever you Goddamn please."
"Fine. I won't punch you again without you being aware that it's coming. Unless you piss me off. How's that?" Michonne offered and Beth nodded her head slowly, still rather perturbed but finding the deal fair considering the circumstances.
Merle cracked his neck. The sound made Beth shudder. "Ya got some natural talent, kid, but ya lack a certain fine-tunin'. Fer instance, ya racked Michonne an' basically took her down fer the count."
Beth hid her smirk and nodded obediently. "I've only taken self-defense classes, I'm not great on the offense."
"Defense is half the fight, so that's a start. But ya need ta work wit' someone closely an' build up yer strength..." Merle walked up to Beth, grabbing her arm and squeezing, despite Beth's attempts to pull away. "This is fuckin' weak," he emphasized each word with a pulse on Beth's bicep.
"It's stronger than it used to be," Beth murmured back, glaring a little.
"Darylina is goin' ta help ya train," Merle smirked over at the vested man.
"Wait, what? Surely Knox would be better fer that. He has more..." Daryl looked over at Beth with indiscernible eyes. "Patience."
"Exactly, dickhead. Ya need ta learn a lesson in patience, an' Priss here needs ta learn how ta fight without compromisin' anyone's balls."
Beth furrowed her brow, she hadn't thought that Daryl would be the one to train her, she couldn't imagine fighting against him, even if it wasn't for real. "Why can't you train me?" Beth directed her question at the ringmaster. She heard Michonne scoff.
"'cause I don' have time fer that shit," Merle spat back. "Daryl here, he has tons o' it now that he's 'way from our daddy."
"Our daddy?" Beth repeated. Her eyes flicked to Daryl who's gaze was towards the floor.
Daryl's jaw set tight and Merle chuckled. "Were brothers, ain't we baby brother?."
"Shut the fuck up," Daryl blurted out. "I'll train her."
"Great, not like ya had a choice," Merle smirked.
"Asshole," Daryl grinned back and Beth watched the exchange with much confusion.
"Hello? What if I don't want him to train me?" She raised her hand up, a look of defiance on her face.
Merle looked over at her like he'd forgotten she was there, an almost bored expression on his face. "Ain't my problem, kid. He's yer keeper now." Merle shoved Daryl on the shoulder, pushing him more toward Beth. "I'll be expecting a full report on this shit tomorrow, Dixon. Fer now, I got a pretty little thang wit' some hot lips waitin' fer me down the street." He wiggled his eyebrows, his lips and hand making an obscene and implicit gesture while he walked out the rusty door.
Daryl rolled his eyes, his jaw still somewhat tight as he looked Beth up in down in a silent appraisal. Beth started to squirm a little under the scrutiny. "Um...is this part of your technique? To stare and make me wildly uncomfortable?" Beth crossed her arms over her chest, her gloved fingers curling around her biceps.
Daryl lazily shrugged a shoulder, licking at the corner of his lips. "I'm jus' tryin' ta figure out the best approach ta this. I mean, ya ain't got no experience, yer weak, an' worst o' all, ya don' know when ta shut yer fuckin' mouth." Daryl spat out the last part and Beth fought to keep from supporting Daryl's argument by opening her mouth when she knew she shouldn't. Instead she just offered a faint nod.
Daryl did a circle around Beth, still looking over his new project. Beth remained still with her shoulders held back, only flinching when Daryl's chest pressed up against her from behind. Taking a deep breath, Beth watched as Daryl's fingers slid from her shoulders to straighten out her arms from their crossed stance. "Wh-what are you doing?" Beth swallowed thickly, trying to keep her voice level.
"Tryin' ta git ya ta relax," Daryl murmured back, his hands smoothing up and down Beth's forearms slowly and his breath warm on base of Beth's neck.
"I thought.." Beth cleared her throat. "I thought Merle said I need to be on guard all of the time."
"There's a difference 'tween bein' on guard an' bein' fuckin' uptight," Daryl finished and moved back to Beth's front, looking her in the eyes with a deep stare. "Ya don' wan' ta be rigid an' look like yer askin' fer a fight o' yer afraid ta be beat up. One o' the key offensive moves is ta act like ya don' care," he licked his lips, his eyes widening slightly. "Like, hey, yer gonna punch me in the gut? Eh, I don' give a shit," Daryl emphasized his nonchalant line with a limp shrug and confident look.
"That's..." Beth furrowed her brow, blinking a few times. "Kind of stupid," she blurted out.
Daryl's face went back to its typical glare. "Maybe so but trust me, it works. Let me ask ya somethin'. If ya go up 'gainst a guy who looks like he's 'bout ta piss his pants as opposed ta a guy that looks like he'll kick yer ass an' then open his beer bottle wit' yer belt buckle while yer still passed out- who are ya going ta be afraid o'?"
Beth conceded with a deep sigh. "Okay, fine, you're right." She shrugged her shoulders, making a conscious effort to try to loosen up. "I've always been a little more...tightly wound, I guess."
"Nah, you?" Daryl looked to Beth's perfectly curled hair and simple applied makeup, glancing pointedly over his thoughtfully put together ensemble, a sardonic smile on his face.
"Piss off." Beth held up her middle finger before slipping off her jacket, tossing it onto one of the rickety crates. "Try to punch me or something. I'm getting annoyed."
Daryl scoffed. "Yer goin' ta be doin' the punchin' fer a while, Priss. Here," he held up his right hand flat, his chapped lips slightly pursed. "Hit it as hard as ya can."
Beth raised her brow, her fist balling up immediately upon request, swinging it back and pushing it forward until it impacted against Daryl's wrist.
"Fuck," Daryl rubbed his wrist, shaking his head. "Look where yer aimin' this time, come on." He held up his hand again, a flash of annoyance on his face.
"Merle said you needed to be patient," Beth mumbled under her breath, punching Daryl's hand with more determination this time and feeling proud when she was able to hit Daryl's palm; her target.
"Better, but that was still weak," Daryl murmured more to himself, his hand coming to his chin in silent thought. "I think we're goin' ta have ta build up yer strength 'fore we can git more decent punches out o' ya," he sighed in a sound of resignation.
"Hey, I can punch, I just don't want to break your hand," Beth retorted, feeling slightly ashamed about her lack of upper body strength.
"Oh really?" Daryl looked almost pleased, cracking his knuckles and holding his hand up steadily again. "Show me," he whispered, looking Beth straight in the eyes.
Beth bit her bottom lip, quickly dropping her gaze from Daryl's distracting stare, flexing and unflexing her fist several times before getting it ready. She took a deep breath, swinging her arm back slowly and bent it at the elbow, pushing it through the air swiftly and hitting Daryl's hand with a firm and resounding smack.
Daryl made a soft groan, quickly closing his hand and looking down at it for a beat, his eyes lifting back to Beth's questioningly. "Ya knew ya could do that?"
"Honestly, not really, but I'm pretty determined when someone underestimates me." Beth tucked a misplaced lock of hair behind her ear, an impassive look on her face and cool confidence defining her exterior.
Daryl's lips turned up into a smirk. "There it is. That confidence right there, that's what ya need ta win a fight an' Priss, let me tell ya somethin' now, everybody is goin' to underestimate ya."
Beth rubbed her lips together, her eyes lighting up, much to her own astonishment. "Then they'll be in for a hell of a surprise."
_
The alarm went off with a shrill beep that Beth had learned to tune out. Because of this, she set a second alarm that had literally the most annoying noise in the entire world. Not only that, but she placed it across the room so she would have to at least get out of bed to turn it off, making the chances of her staying out of bed a little bit higher.
Lugging herself from the comfort of her bed, she lumbered over to her second and fucking annoying alarm and shut it off with a loud groan before faceplanting back on her bed. She knew it was Monday and that she had class, but she was so sore all over from training with Daryl. After she had shown her ability to punch, Daryl had made her do it over and over and with her left hand, too. Beth hadn't realized the amount of muscle such an action took. Maybe she really did need to start lifting weights.
She was just about to drift back off when a heavy weight that she knew too well took up residence on her ass.
"Maggie, get off my butt," Beth murmured into her pillow.
"Nah, it's cool. It's bony and uncomfortable which means that I won't stay and skip class like I might if I was eating my cereal on the comfy couch, for instance."
Beth lifted her head, looking back at her sister. "Are you seriously eating a bowl of cereal while sitting on my ass?"
"Yep," Maggie shrugged, spooning more Apple Jacks into her mouth.
"Get off, I have to pee," Beth carefully lifted her hips enough to rattle Maggie but not enough to get cold milk spilled on herself and her bed.
"Fine," Maggie let out a deep and fake disappointed sigh. "Why are you so grumpy, anyway?" Maggie stood up, keeping a careful watch on Beth while chomping on her cereal.
Beth blearily stood out of bed for the second time, lifting up both shoulders. "No clue, I guess 'cause it's Monday and I have a term paper due tomorrow that I haven't really started." Beth made her way to the bathroom to relieve herself.
"Well, you'll have the apartment to yourself to nerd out," Maggie called out with his mouth full. "I'm going out with Glenn again."
"Glenn?" Beth questioned back, shoving her toothbrush with toothpaste in her mouth.
"Just a boy I met at the club."
Beth finished brushing her teeth, rinsing her mouth with water after and leaning on the doorframe with a smirk on her minty fresh lips. "The Asian?"
"Shut up," Maggie glared, eating her last bite of Apple Jacks with dramatic defiance before stomping out the door.
Beth couldn't even find the energy to laugh. Instead she just rolled her eyes and awkwardly got dressed while her muscles protested in ache. She was just grabbing her school bag when her phone for the time being buzzed. She had borrowed an old one of Maggie's since she had broken her. Looking down at it with squinted eyes, she emitted a long sigh.
Daryl: Training tonight, 9:30pm.
Beth huffed, shaking her head and quickly shooting back a text saying that she had a paper to write. She had agreed to buy into their little fighting game and be trained, but they couldn't reasonably expect her to devote every night to the craft. Especially not a Monday night when she had more important things to do like schoolwork.
She glanced in the mirror and grabbed her keys by the front door, looking down at Daryl's name once again illuminating her screen. With a silent curse she turned her phone off and put it in her bag, not looking at it once for the remainder of the day.
_
It was approximately 10:30pm when there was a pounding on her bedroom door. Beth was entirely immersed in the writing of her paper and the empty Red Bull cans and chip bags were a clear sign of that. Her hair was a mess and her head was starting to throb from staring at the computer screen. The last thing she needed was Maggie bugging her.
"Piss off! I thought you were going to be gone all night!" Beth shouted in annoyance over her shoulder. She was only further miffed when she heard her door actually open. Before she could turn around and tell Maggie to get out, she was frozen by the familiar and deep voice of someone she wasn't expecting to ever be in her bedroom- and this voice was not a happy one.
"Where the fuck were ya?" Daryl spat out harshly.
Beth spun around in her office chair quickly, her thick-rimmed glasses still in place which made her expression of indignation rather comical. "I've been working my ass off on a paper that's worth 40% of my grade. I told you what I'd be doing. But..how the hell did you get in here?"
Daryl limply shrugged a shoulder, his face still hardened. "When ya do the shit that I do, ya know how ta do other illegal thangs too, I guess."
"Like breaking and entering? I could call the cops, you know!" Beth stood up, smoothing down her wrinkled shirt.
"An' what? Tell them that the guy who's trainin' ya ta street fight broke into yer apartment?" Daryl scoffed, leaning against the wall and shaking his head. "I waited fer ya fer forty-five fuckin' minutes, Beth. This ain't a joke. This is serious." Daryl moved forward into Beth's space, causing her to back up a little. "Ya be fightin' in a few weeks whether yer ready o' not. Ya could die in that fight o' git critically injured. But no, writin' yer fancy little paper is more valuable than yer fuckin' life!" Daryl's glare and voice were intense and Beth was speechless.
"I...um.." She looked down, noticing her socks were mismatched and felt even more vulnerable than usual in the presence of Daryl. "I'm sorry," Beth almost whispered.
"What was that?" Daryl put a hand to his ear, up against his dirty brown hair.
"I said I'm sorry, alright." Her arms crossed over her chest and her stare met Daryl's. "I guess I'm still trying to get used to all of this. I've been purely academic for years now and not so much the rough and tumble type."
A small smirk formed on Daryl's pink lips. "Ya talk like an ol' man sometimes, ya know?"
Beth rolled her eyes but she was grateful that she wasn't being yelled at anymore. "Listen...tomorrow, can we make up for tonight? I really need to finish this paper."
"No. I told ya we would train tonight an' that's what's goin' ta happen. Not my fault ya be out later than ya would have been," Daryl gave her an unsympathetic look, his gaze dropping over Beth's attire, having never seen Beth so disheveled. "Yer dressed like an ol' man, too.. Maybe we should change yer name from Priss." A low chuckle came from Daryl's throat, followed by a faint grin. "Change yer clothes an' meet me out there in five minutes."
Beth grumbled but she did what she was told, after surveying herself in the mirror for a moment to see if she did in fact look like an old man. Daryl made her self-conscious and on edge, but she knew she needed to get this over with so she could get back to her paper.
When she left his bedroom to find Daryl looking at her pictures on her fireplace mantle, ahe felt even more exposed. She took a silent second to admire the back of Daryl in his brown ripped flannel and black jeans; his tanned muscled arms impossible to ignore.
"Maybe I should take a picture o' myself an' put it up here, that way ya wouldn' have ta stare so much," Daryl's voice startled Beth from her reverie.
"Erm...what?" Beth busied himself with looking down at her shoes while Daryl turned slowly to look at her with an amused smirk.
"Don' worry, I'll teach ya ta have eyes in the back o' yer head too, Priss. Come on. I'm still pissed at ya, by the way," Daryl said casually as he walked out the door, expectant of Beth to follow.
Which she did. She didn't know why. Before Daryl, her paper would have taken precedence over anything else. But things were different now, and she wasn't as perturbed by that thought as she should have been.