Powdered Gold: July
Travelling off the beaten path revealed many strange wonders to Daryl and Beth. They drove when they could, though they still found themselves on foot more often than not. When without the cover and protection of a vehicle, Daryl charted courses through stretches of wood that bypassed the highways.
"Look at that bike," Beth murmured, inclining her head to the left. She had learned to speak in hushed tones by habit, the same way Daryl did. He followed her gaze to a massive tree, the trunk having grown around a rusted, old bike that might have been blue at some point. Curious, Beth drifted forward to get a closer look. She ran a hand over the leather handlebars and tried to spin the front wheel only to find it locked in place by the thick layers of rust. "I didn't know trees could do that."
When she tipped her head back to look at him, he couldn't help but smile at the peeling sunburn on her nose. Under the blazing summer sun, Beth had been burning and tanning in turns, her fair skin becoming burnished gold even as the sun bleached her blonde hair platinum. He was tanning, too, though Daryl had a much easier time of it. "Nature does this, after a while. The longer we go on in this walker-ridden-hellhole, the more the earth is gonna take itself back."
Even that short of a conversation drew the attention of a walker, the beast stumbling out of a thicket of wild berries. He—Beth thought it had been a man at one point—was badly decayed, missing one arm with the other hanging on by just a few rotten tendons and strings of muscle. Daryl felled him before he could come within a yard of them, but after he had managed to make it through the berry patch. Daryl caught her eye and nodded toward the fruit before stooping to withdraw his arrow with a squelching sound that made Beth shiver.
In these woods, ancient, thick, and wild, they only talked when necessary. More often than not, they communicated in gestures. Daryl's footsteps were cushioned into silence by the thick grass and moss underfoot, but Beth sensed him come stand beside her to guard her while she collected the raspberries. She picked them quickly, fingers staining red with berry juice, until her little pouch was bursting to fullness with the bounty. There was hardly time to lick the juice from her fingers before Daryl had them on the move again.
Daily, she was amazed by the ease with which he moved through these strange woods. In Georgia, that had been understandable; Daryl readily admit he and Merle basically raised themselves among the forests there. But here, in South Carolina? Where he may have traveled, but never lived? He still moved through the woods as if the land was an old friend. He led her through underbrush, pushing aside branches and Spanish moss to clear her path. Beth didn't recognize the tinkling sound of running water until they were nearly at the creekbank. Yet Daryl had cut them a path directly to it.
They stopped for a drink, dipping cupped hands into the blissfully cold water. "Might as well rinse off and wash clothes," he whispered close to her ear. "I can't say the next time we'll come to water."
As she had learned to live in the wild, Daryl had acquiesced to 'civil shit', as he called it, such as regular bathing and keeping their clothes as clean as possible. Beth had pointed out several times that living in filth could be the difference between a scrape healing and turning to blood poisoning. She tried not to feel too smug as she slipped off her boots and socks before shucking the rest of her clothes.
The creek water was crystal clear, revealing the pretty rocks resting on the bed. The cold water was the embodiment of relief, lapping first over her tired feet and then creeping up her shins to her knees as she waded in. Somewhat shallow, the creek only reached her hips, so that she had to bend at the waist and scoop handfuls of water to wet her upper body.
"You look like a patchwork quilt, Bethy." She started a bit, disturbing the curious minnows that had come to nibble at her feet in investigation. They shot like quicksilver away from her. Pushing the wet strands of hair from her face, she found Daryl leaning casually against a tree, keeping watch while she bathed. Though his tone was teasing, as was the smirk playing at his lips, that dark shade of blue betrayed his true feelings. His eyes smoldered with the desire he was reigning in beneath the casual façade.
Smirking herself, Beth did a saucy little turn in the creek, letting him see the full accuracy of his description. She was still sunburned in some places, tanned in others. Her hips and legs shone milky in comparison, cover from jeans and boots preserving her natural fairness. "I imagine you're not much better off."
Ripping the sleeves off his plaid shirts was the only accommodation Daryl had made to his wardrobe for summer weather. The tight, muscle-corded contours of his arms were tanned a leathery brown, as was his face, making his blue eyes shine like a beacon, but the rest of him remained covered. His tan lines would be more extreme than her own, she was sure.
She felt his eyes on her while she bathed, but Beth didn't mind. In truth, she welcomed it. They had been in the woods for going on three weeks, and there was a definite hierarchy in Daryl's mind when it came to survival. She hadn't felt his hands rove her skin in those three weeks; she would have to make do with his gaze. Daryl, after all, was not one for slipping away as Maggie and Glenn had been.
It didn't hurt as much, to think about them. Beside Daryl's poncho, there was no sign of their friends in Terminus. To Beth, that meant they were still out there. There was still hope.
Daryl bathed more quickly than she did. Though he was willing, that didn't mean he luxuriated in it, as was Beth's habit. Quick as he was, she was able to confirm that Daryl's tan was more extreme than her own. There was a distinct line on the back of his neck from his shirt collar, the same abrupt change marking each of his shoulders. When he was done, Beth took the most soiled of their clothing and plunged them into the creek. Daryl filled their canteens with the good, clean water, twisting the lids tight as he could before nestling the extras into Beth's backpack.
They would be losing a day of travel, making an afternoon camp as they were, but sometimes it was necessary. Beth hung their cleaned clothing from various branches to dry while Daryl meticulously cleaned his arrows. She felt so much better in clean clothes, with her damp hair drying on her shoulders. With her work done, she drifted closer to him. Daryl was waiting for her, tipping his head toward the creek. Now that they weren't disrupting the waters, a variety of fish had joined the minnows in sluicing through the water. Beth crumpled her brow. "We don't have fishing gear," she whispered, but Daryl only smirked.
"Don't need it." Daryl sheathed his cleaned arrows in their quiver and set aside his crossbow. Raising himself to his knees, Daryl loomed over the creek, adopting the same stillness that afflicted the trees all around. Only his eyes moved, tracking the movements of the unawares fish. Beth watched intently, perplexed, but still somehow managed to miss the moment when Daryl's hand shot out. He hardly disrupted the water, his movement was so quick and sure, retreating from the water with a large fish held firm in his grasp.
A smug, victorious smile stretched across his lips. "Get me a fire going, Bethy, and we'll have smoked fish and berries tonight."
Shaking her head, she did just that with foraged sticks and their fire strike. Now that it was summer, they never chanced a fire at night when it would be most visible. All their cooking was done before sundown and quickly extinguished. This was the pattern of their fish smoking before the pair sat in the summer afternoon sun beside the stream, enjoying a quiet meal.
The sun was low and hazy, hovering above the horizon, by the time the berries and fish had been taken care of. Beth folded the laundry and packed it away as Daryl lifted a hand to the sky. "Four hours," he judged. "Enough to scout."
More than enough daylight to scout a place to hunker down for the coming night. A close cropping of trees, thick patches of moss and various foliage, and abandoned cars had all served them on past nights. Beth was anticipating the same as they wandered forward. A great clambering of birds sounded from the branches above, likewise settling in for the night, though their routine seemed to include screaming at the dying of day. The birds and the fish were the only animals they had seen that day, and only the one walker. It seemed they were well and truly nearly alone in their current swath of forest.
Though presently abandoned, the little clapboard building that appeared nestled in the trees was a reminder that these woods had not always been so. Beth would have walked right by it, had she been alone. Vines and moss grew so heavily on the walls that it entirely obscured any sign of windows, cloaking the building as part of the natural landscape. Only Daryl's hand on her arm alerted her to its existence.
"It's a chapel!" Beth whisper-shouted in surprise, pointing to the snapped cross that adorned the small spire. Daryl remained silent as he led the way forward. Unlike the windows, the door had not yet been consumed by creeping vines. The earth hasn't taken it fully back.
But it had damn near succeeded.
Beyond the door, the tiny chapel was revealed to be the thing of fairytales. Grass and wildflowers shot up between floorboards, cushioning their footfalls so well that there wasn't a single groan of protest. Thanks to the fading sunlight and vine-covered windows, the entire interior was diffused with hazy green light. Dust motes shimmered in the sunbeams that had managed to penetrate the foliage. Beth stood mesmerized in the midst of it until a click from behind her drew her attention.
"Lock still works," Daryl explained. "Door's solid, too."
He slid his crossbow from his shoulder, leaving it propped next to the locked door. The grass and moss cushioned his steps so it seemed he was gliding as he strode forward to her. Beth found herself relieved of the weight of her backpack; Daryl slipped it from her before setting it aside on the floor. She tilted her head to peer up at him, at the smirk playing at his lips again. Beth moved forward with the intent to kiss him, but he took her by surprise. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as she giggled.
"We should be well enough alone here," he murmured into her neck, eliciting another giggle, though this one was decidedly breathier. Beth found herself laid out in a thick, soft patch of grass and flowers. How odd to be in a veritable garden with a roof over her head. She had little time to think of the eccentric little chapel, however. Those calloused hands she so wanted on her skin just that afternoon were sliding beneath her shirt.
Daryl's beard tickled when he kissed her, and his hands left her sunburnt skin tingling in their wake. "Oh, our shoes," she giggled again when she realized they had neglected to remove that article of clothing. Half undressed, she sat up and quickly shucked her boots and socks while Daryl did the same.
"You don't got any objections to doing this in a church, Bethy?" Daryl teased while her hands worked at his belt. He couldn't stand to be away from her, though, moving forward to kiss her neck without waiting for a response. Luckily for him, she had no qualms, which was obvious as she undid his jeans and began to slip them off.
"God, I missed you," she breathed across his mouth before kissing him again. Beth didn't even mind the fact that their lovemaking was being done in something akin to a greenhouse, with grass tickling at her back, let alone a chapel. Above her, Daryl chuckled, sliding a hand over her hip to the small of her back and pressing himself into her.
"We spend every day together," he reminded her. But her sentiment certainly wasn't lost on him, a shiver racking down his spine to be joined with her once more. Still, Beth did her best to glare up at him, making him laugh.
Until she wrapped her leg around him, pushing him deeper and causing him to stutter in his thrusts. He buried his head in her shoulder, pausing a moment to get control of himself lest this all be over far too soon for his liking. "You know what I meant."
"Fuck if I don't, Bethy," he murmured before kissing her hard and long before resuming his rhythm. She smiled, satisfied with herself. Beth wrapped her other leg around his waist as well, all too happy to be lost in the feel of him.
The dawn woke her not with light but with a clap of thunder so loud it shook the little chapel. She startled awake, peeling her cheek from Daryl's shoulder and wide eyes roving around. "It's just rain."
Daryl wore a bemused smirk, cracking one eye to meet hers. Slowly, her breathing evened out as she rolled her own eyes at him. They were still nude, neither having bothered at all with dressing. Usually, they used the poncho for cover at night, but they had each been slick with sweat and the night had been so humid, anyway, that it wasn't needed. She rolled back into him, reaching up to run her fingers through his shaggy hair. "Well, if it's raining, we can't travel."
"Excellent point, Bethy." He turned to his side, so that he could kiss her, a hand gripping her hip to pull her closer. The stiffness she felt against her thigh let her know they were in agreement. She broke their kiss, pushing his shoulder so that he rolled onto his back. "Oh, that's how it's gonna be, huh?"
"You did all the work last night," she reminded him, climbing over him. Between the storm and the ivy-covered windows, the light inside the chapel was dim, to say the least. Still, she caught the flash of his teeth in his smile, his hands coming to rest on her hips as she slowly lowered herself on top of him. "I'm just returning the favor."
Daryl posed no argument to that, laying back and letting Beth do what she would with him.
The rain petered out by the evening, leaving the ground muddy and the trees dripping. Daryl and Beth sat on the damp front steps of the chapel, watching night fall and eating berries and greens. "The moonlight should be good for night traveling."
They were back to whispering, now that they were in the open with no storm to cover their voices. Daryl nodded, knees drawn up and arms resting atop, blue eyes roaming all around. "It's quiet out," he agreed. "I ain't even heard an animal, let alone a walker."
"Think we should make up for lost time?" Beth peeked at him in the moonlight. He smirked at her, reaching over to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
"Don't tell me I need to remind ya where all that time went, Bethy." She blushed despite herself, watching Daryl push himself up from the steps. He turned to her, hand extended, and pulled her to her feet. "Let's get on it, then. Might be able to cover a few miles before sunup."
That storm had been mightier than Beth had realized. There were fallen branches, ripped from their trucks by the wind, littered all around. No wonder all the animals were hiding. Beth plucked their map from her backpack, using the last of the fading daylight to scrutinize it.
"We're still in South Carolina, right?"
"For another day or two, if we can huff it." He traced the path he intended, finger pointing three-fourths of the way through the state as their starting point. "North Carolina should be greetin' us soon."
"And then on to Virginia," she said with a smile. D.C. was still their goal, after all. They hardly had anything else to go on, not having had any hint of their friends since Terminus.
"Mmm," Daryl hummed his agreement. He held a hand out to her each time there was a branch to step over in their path. Full dark was on them soon, leaving them moving through the silvery moonlight. The pair fell into their typical silence, making tracks through the forest until it became too thin and the trees, just like the rain, petered out.
Daryl jutted his chin out, motioning to the abandoned car-strewn highway. He turned to Beth and raised an eyebrow. What do you think? Beth took a moment to survey the area, pursing her lips as she did so. The cars were thick; it would have been too difficult to navigate one out of the cluster. Not to mention all the noise checking cars would make on this now-quiet night, and how many walkers—or living people—that could attract. After a moment, she shook her head and swept a hand toward the trees. No, let's stay close to the forest. This earned her a proud little smirk from Daryl before he turned to lead the way.
It was a good choice. As they traveled down the highway, the muted growls of trapped walkers could be heard streaming from the cars. Those growls created a kind of background hum, a low rumbling that rose and fell depending on how many cars were clumped together.
Eerie, Beth thought, shivering despite the thick, humid heat. She drew closer to Daryl. Other than the walkers, they seemed to be alone below the stars. Then, two shadowy figures emerged from the trees. They walked together in tandem, one much smaller than the other, with the fluid gait of the living. Daryl touched her arm, stilling her to assess the situation.
The figures came closer, the moonlight revealing them to be a pair of dark-haired boys. Brothers, Beth thought, the younger clinging to the older one's hand and half-hiding behind him. The older boy held a gun in his free hand, but he did not raise it, leaving the barrel pointing toward the ground. There was no hint of confrontation on this boy's face, but there was a question shining in his dark eyes.
Daryl sized them up, gaze raking from the top of their heads down to their feet. After a tense moment where the thick air stilled around them, Daryl nodded, and the boys fell into step beside Beth. The pair became a quartet of survivors moving through the night.
It was quietly uneventful for two miles, the four moving in easy silence. Holding a hand out, Daryl wordlessly stopped them. He gestured to the roadside ditch they walked through.
The boys didn't understand at first, not until Beth pulled out a water bottle for her and Daryl to share and sat down for a rest. Then the brothers followed suit, sinking down into the grass. Daryl was a stickler for staying hydrated, so though Beth didn't yet feel thirsty, she took a long pull before passing it over.
"Thank you," the older boy whispered, "for letting me and my brother travel with y'all. I'm Miguel, my brother's Pablo."
"Daryl." Beth felt her eyebrows shoot up. He gave his name. That was a sign he truly didn't consider their new companions threats. "This is Beth. Don't worry 'bout thankin' us. It's safer with numbers." She gave each of the boys a smile and a wave. Miguel looked barely older than Carl. He returned her silent greeting with a nervous kind of grin. Pablo, though, hung his head. He didn't drink when Miguel tried to press their water bottle into the younger boy's hands.
After their rest, Daryl led the band on for a couple more miles. Miguel settled Pablo onto his back, having been carrying the younger boy since the first rest. He fell asleep, slumped there with his cheek resting on his brother's shoulder. The sky was lightening from star-studded black to gray when a louder wheezing walker breath interrupted the buzzing hum Beth had grown accustomed to through the night. She reacted immediately, drawing her gun from her waistband and turning to the sound.
But there was no walker tumbling from the forest as Beth had expected. Instead, she was met with the sight of Daryl swiftly pulling Pablo from Miguel's back before the boy could sink his teeth into his brother's neck. She watched as Daryl pressed a knife into Miguel's hand. Though tears were streaming down the boy's face, he took the blade and sunk it hilt-deep into his brother's skull.
As dawn broke and the morning sun illuminated Pablo's death-pale skin, Miguel continued to weep quietly. He muffled sobs into his hands, swiping at the thick tears wetting his face. Beth's heart broke at the scene revealed by the light of day. She came forward, hugging Miguel though she didn't know him beyond their night together. He was all skinny limbs in her arms, but already taller than her, his grief dripping into her hair.
While she held the boy, Daryl withdrew his knife as gently as he could from Pablo's head. He cleaned the blade on the grass before sheathing it again. It had torn his soul apart to kill Merle, and he had a great many more years under his belt than the kid weeping into Beth's braid. He kept watch while Miguel gathered his wits, eventually pulling away from Beth and taking a big step back.
"Thank you," he told Daryl, voice raw. "You and your wife have been kinder than I would've asked. I didn't know it still existed. Me and Pablo, we were with another group, but they wanted to leave him when he got bit. I threw a fit over it, so they made us both go. Told me to deal with it, then."
"We'll bury him," Daryl said quietly. "C'mon."
Beth hardly had time to marvel at Miguel's assumption about their relationship, helping dig the grave a few yards into the forest. Pablo must have been ten, at the most, probably younger. The grave wasn't big, but they dug it deep to make sure no animals disturbed Pablo's rest. Miguel insisted on being the one to bury him.
Standing side-by-side, Beth and Daryl were the only funeral attendees. She peeked up at him, wondering how he had known Pablo was sick. How had he seen it? Both boys had looked pale in the moonlight, though day had revealed the deep tan Miguel had. They marked the grave with a circlet of flowers Beth wove together.
"You can come with us," she blurted, unable to take the deep, red-rimmed sadness in Miguel's eyes. But the boy shook his head.
"Y'all have been kind, but… my cousin's with that group me and Pablo left. No offense, but I'd rather be with family."
"None taken." Daryl clapped the boy on the shoulder before rummaging through their backpack. He withdrew a few packs of their fruit leather and offered them to the boy. "Be safe headin' back."
"Thank you." New tears brimmed in the boy's eyes. Beth gave him a final hug before the three parted ways in the forest. Miguel turned to head deeper into the trees. Beth and Daryl trekked back to the roadside.
They were quiet through the morning, moving back into the shaded cover of the woods once the sun was overhead. No reason to travel through the hottest part of the day, and besides, they needed to each catch a few hours' sleep. Daryl chose a cluster of close-growing trees, taking the time to weave the low, young branches together to make a little hideaway. He pulled the poncho from their backpack and folded it into a pillow before offering it to Beth.
Under the shaded cover of woven branches, Beth laid down to take the first rest. Daryl crouched beside her for a moment, tenderly and quietly caressing her face before wandering off to survey the area for any potential threats. While he was gone, Beth stared up at the branches above her, watching the play of noonday sun through the thick, green leaves.
Pablo was the youngest she had ever seen succumb to a walker bite. It made her stomach churn, thinking of his quick second death. This world was hard. She knew that. But months—nearly a year—had passed since the vile excuse of a man called the Governor had killed her father in front of her. Time—and Daryl—had blurred the edges of that pain, so that it was a dull throb rather than the hot blade of Pablo's just hours before.
By then, Daryl had come back, sitting beside her head. Beth reached up and touched his arm to get his attention. "How did you know?" she whispered to him.
Daryl was quiet for a long time, chewing on his thumbnail and staring straight forward. Eventually, he sighed and turned to her, stroking a hand over her hair. "There's not a lot of reasons for boys to travelin' alone in the dark, Bethy. But I wasn't sure until the kid turned."
He drew close to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You good here? Area's clear as can be." Daryl waited for his nod before pushing himself to his feet. "I'll track somethin' down for our supper, then."
Beth had her doubts that she would sleep, but the night of travel and the events of the morning caught up to her. Soon, she was dozing lightly, her hand resting on her gun just in case. When Daryl returned with a skinned rabbit, they switched places and Beth built a small fire to spit the animal over while Daryl took his rest.
She crafted a little fan of leaves and twigs, fanning the flames as the rabbit popped and spit as it cooked. Beth hadn't thought herself hungry until her stomach rumbled at the smell of the roasting meat. She just hoped Daryl was right about the area being clear and she was the only one eager for a meal. But Daryl was the only being roused by the smell, emerging from the little sleeping hideaway to sit beside Beth.
"That almost done?" He asked. An unnerving thing about Daryl in the wild was that he took no time 'waking up'. There was no period of grogginess, no eye rubbing and incoherent mumbling. Once those bright blue eyes were open, he was fully awake and attentive. Smiling to herself over the wonder of the man sitting beside her, Beth cut a small piece into the rabbit to check the color of the meat.
"Few more minutes," she whispered back to him. "Sorry to disappoint."
Daryl gave a derisive snort. "I think we ought to find a car and drive for a bit. Did some scouting while you slept. Highway clears out 'bout a mile up."
"Okay," she agreed, carefully giving their roasting rabbit one last turn. When it was finished, Daryl laid it out on the game bag and carved the meat into even halves. The succulent meat, dripping grease down her fingers, gave a comforting weight to her belly as Beth ate her share. They left no trace they had made a day camp, Daryl unweaving the branches and Beth scattering the ashes of their fire into the dirt. The rabbit bones were dropped some ways away, too, all evidence of their existence in the forest effectively erased.
Finding a car was trickier. So was siphoning gas. Other living had been through the area, and it was obvious that the abandoned cars had been used by those people to trap walkers. A smart strategy, Beth had to admit, but finding an empty car that was willing to start was a challenge. Extracting gas with walkers throwing themselves against windows and windshields was nerve-wracking.
At least they're contained, Beth tried to reassure herself, eyes trained on the animated corpse making a valiant effort to reach her through layers of glass and metal. She was so preoccupied with the creature that she didn't realize gasoline was streaming out until the liquid came rushing to her mouth. Sputtering, she quickly put the tube in their gas can and swiped at her mouth.
Behind her came Daryl's chuckle. "Gotta pay attention, Bethy," he teased. She glared at him over her shoulder, gladly accepting the bottle of whiskey he pulled from their backpack. Beth welcomed the burn of the alcohol to chase away the nauseating taste of gasoline. In truth, she was all too happy to climb into the cab of the truck they had found and ride shotgun as Daryl drove. Picking through the paltry selection of CDs she found in the glove compartment, Beth eventually settled on one and popped it in.
"Skynyrd?" Daryl asked, with a chuckle, as What's Your Name? began to play. "Didn't take you for a fan, if I'm honest."
"All the other CDs were Black Sabbath," she answered by way of explanation. They lapsed into companionable silence as classic rock filled the cab of the truck. That is, until Beth's wandering mind ran through their encounter with Miguel and Pablo again. "That boy, Miguel?"
"Mmm?" The highway was clear of cars, yes, but now walkers roamed the bar ditches in hopeless attempts to keep up with the truck capturing their attention. Daryl's eyes scanned side to side, keeping track of the jarring and erratic movements of the dead. "What 'bout him?"
"He assumed I was your wife." Though she had turned to look at Daryl, features cast blue from the light of the console, he kept his gaze trained on the road.
"Yeah," he said simply, swerving around the prone form of a walker blocking the lane. Beth felt her brow crumple.
"That doesn't… bother you?" She was left at a loss of how else to phrase it. Miguel's words didn't bother her, but she was entirely unsure how Daryl felt upon hearing them.
"Nah," came his next reply, much in line with his first. Beth felt her confusion deepen.
"But we're…" her words trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"Not married?" Daryl finished for her. "What's a marriage, really, Bethy? A wedding?"
He turned to her for just a moment, eyebrows raising to punctuate his question.
"Well, no, but…" Again, she found herself lacking in expressing herself.
"Not many justices of the peace around to do the deed, let alone men of the cloth." He further pointed out, gesturing to the outdoors beyond the truck cab with his hand. Beth felt her mouth drop open. She closed it with a click of her teeth.
"Pull over."
"Huh?"
"Pull over! This is not a driving conversation."
"Bethy, I can't just—"
"Can't what?" She asked. "Pull over on an empty highway? Not many walkers around to crash into, let alone living people."
He gave her a look at that one, but did as she asked, easing the truck off the road into the bar ditch. Once parked, he turned to her, throwing his hands up. "What?"
"You really don't care that someone thought we were married?"
"No," he repeated, somehow not sounding as exasperated as he looked. "Why? Do you?"
"Well… no, of course not." To her surprise, Daryl laughed.
"Then what's our issue here?"
At that, Beth demurred, her cheeks heating in a blush. "I just… I don't know, I just didn't know."
"Didn't know what, Bethy?" He asked, humor still coloring his words. "Been travelin' with you across states, huntin' for you, humoring your civilized shit in the middle of the wilderness while the world ends around us, and you ain't got a clue how I feel about you? We need to find our way back to that chapel so I can refresh your memory, or what?"
Annoyance and affection rose within her, the contradictory emotions bringing an amused smirk to her face even as her eyes shined. She threw herself over the console dividing them, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him. Daryl returned it fervently in kind, but still pulled away too soon for her liking. "Can I drive now? I intended to make it to North Carolina by daybreak before you started to grill me about obvious things."
"Obvious things," she mocked, untangling herself from him to sit back in her seat. While Daryl pulled back onto the highway, she pulled the poncho out and curled up under it.
"Clear as day, I thought." There weren't just walkers to be concerned about as road obstacles. Animals had grown used to having free reign over the land once more. Daryl idled a while, waiting for a raccoon and her babies to mosey on over across the road. "Do I gotta cut a ring off a walker like Glenn did or what?"
"That's where he got that ring?" Beth asked, snuggling into the poncho. She shuddered at the thought. "Gross."
"Your sister thought it was romantic enough," he reminded her, but Beth only rolled her eyes.
"That's just because she's obsessed with Glenn." Even now, with nearly a year's time having passed, Beth refused to speak about any of their friends in the past tense. She was warm under the poncho. With the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd playing softly from the radio and the beat Daryl rapped on the steering wheel, she was lulled into dozing by this unconventional lullaby.
She drifted in and out of napping through the night, slurring out sleepy offers to take the wheel, which Daryl always denied. The morning sun woke her fully, leaving her stretching in the passenger seat. Daryl nodded out the windshield.
"North Carolina, Bethy. One state closer."
To her, the landscape outside the window looked just the same, but Daryl's words still prompted a spreading warmth of optimism in her chest.
"Daryl?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
He turned to her, smirking and reaching for her hand. "What, you still don't know, Bethy? I love you, too."
A/N: Oh man, did I ever take a long break, huh? Unintentional, I promise. I got way too in my head, worrying about how repetitive this story might get since, you know, it is Daryl and Beth traveling. It took me a long, long time, many discarded ideas and drafts, but I finally have an idea and plan of how to carry this story forward and finish it! I hope you enjoyed the July chapter, and I promise not to take so long on getting the August chapter out... Though I make no promises y'all will actually read it in August! ;)