Thanks for reading and commenting! I'm trying to work on this (and post) more regularly. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
The nights were long. Beth felt she should be able to sleep now that Daryl was better and her guests didn't need anything through the night. She heard Chubs waking up every few hours, he seemed easily comforted and settled back down quickly. Beta's voice rumbled quietly, occasionally. Lydia whispered in return. Lydia was clearly the main caregiver for Chubs. Beth didn't think Lydia and Beta were a couple in the traditional sense. Beta watched out for them and Lydia took care of Chubs. It was a simple arrangement. She had her suspicions that's all it was, an arrangement.
Either way, it wasn't her concern. It was just one of the many things she pondered while lying awake at night. She was sure Daryl didn't sleep well either. How could he on that tiny couch? Sometimes she'd pretend to be asleep when she knew he was awake watching her. His eyes boring into her back as she lay by the fire didn't bother her. Maybe he was as curious about her as she was about him.
Tonight the house was quiet, as usual, and Beta's soft snoring echoed from the loft. Chubs had awakened about an hour ago and was most likely nursed back to sleep by Lydia. The distinct tink tink tink sounded throughout the cabin. The sound of pellets of snow pinging off the tin roof was her favorite sound. The snow made everything more difficult, as did rain, but she liked the break it afforded. It meant fresh crips air and burrowing down in the cozy cabin in front of the fire. It meant sewing or mending or reading and maybe a midafternoon nap. It meant a more quiet time in her little world.
She looked over at Daryl, his eyes close, his chest rising and falling evenly. He looked to be asleep as she slid out of her blanket, picking it up and wrapping it around herself. Quietly she crept to the back door, slipping on her boots. She unengaged the lock and stepped out into the cold. There was really nothing to see beyond the darkness, the moon hidden behind clouds, except for the pellets of white shooting from the sky.
Breathing the cold air deep into her lungs, she wrapped the blanket tightly around her shoulders and leaned against the post of the metal overhang. She often sat outside watching the nothingness swirl around her. Her mind, finally as blank as the sky and she felt blissfully unworried for a change.
"What the hell you doin' out here? It's fuckin' cold."
She jumped, only slightly, before glancing at Daryl over her shoulder. He stood in the doorway, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. She could only see the outline of his broad shoulders, the chiseled silhouette of his muscled arms. "Just breathing," was her response.
"Breathing? Don't you do that automatically?" He asked. He'd put on his flannel shirt but hadn't buttoned it. His feet were bare. There was something comfortable, familiar, about his appearance. He was at ease in her house. An idea she found both appealing and confusing. She wanted him and any other guests she may have to be comfortable. It hit differently with Daryl.
She turned toward the clearing of the yard again, feeling him walk up behind her, his presence making her senses throb. "Snowing again," she said needlessly.
"I hate the snow," he answered. His voice was groggy, deeper somehow.
"I love the snow," she said contrarily.
"Easy for you to say, you didn't almost die in the last snowstorm," he teased. She didn't expect this lighter, teasing side from him. She liked it though, very much.
"Got to have snow, just like you gotta have rain." No rain, no flowers, her mother would say when Beth complained about being stuck inside during the wet springs on the farm when she was young. She tilted her head up, letting the snow fall against her face.
He chuckled. "Girl, you're somethin'."
She smiled into the darkness, not sure what he meant. You're somethin'. His words didn't seem to be bad. They stood together for a few more minutes until Daryl said "You're shivering." He put his hand on her shoulders and turned her towards him. His face came into view with the close proximity, his brow furrowed as his gaze moved over her. She felt naked in her leggings and sweater and blanket.
Her breath puffed out in white vapor clouds. Waiting, anticipating what might come next. He lifted a hand. Calloused fingers traced the faint scar that marred her skin just above her eyebrow. "Where'd you get this?"
She rolled her shoulder like it was no big deal. "Came across some not very nice people on my way here." Even now she wouldn't call them bad. They were desperate, there is a difference.
Instantly his demeanor changed. He stood up straight, his shoulders tensed, jawbones jutted with the grinding of his teeth. Beth smiled easily. "I'm fine. It was a long time ago. People become desperate when they feel they have no other choices, they do things they normally wouldn't do."
She could almost see the gears churning in his mind before he relaxed marginally. "Don't want no one hurting you," he admitted.
A shiver vibrated through her and it had nothing to do with the cold. "No one's hurting me now." She hated the wobble in her voice. Why should he care about her? An even better question was why she liked that he cared.
His fingers traveled lightly from the scar on her forehead, down her temple, over her cheek to trace the outline of her bottom lip, his eyes rested on her perfectly pink lips. He leaned in and just as she thought he might kiss her, he shifted and his lips landed softly on the scar.
Daryl kept close to the cabin. Within earshot. If something happened, he'd hear it. He filled the water bucket, setting it outside the back door. Topped off the stack of wood. The last few nights haven't been as cold so they hadn't gone through much wood but by his judgment, Beth had plenty to last her the rest of the winter. Still, they now had two more people than she planned for, they'd be going through more supplies. He wasn't surprised Beth didn't seem worried about this. She was nothing if not prepared.
Beth didn't seem to be in any rush for them to move along - didn't seem to be in any rush for him to leave either. He found it strange he, himself, wasn't in any rush to leave. While he was healing he had every plan to split the second he was able. As the days went on he was less and less sure about when he'd be leaving.
The way she doesn't even bat an eye at sharing what little supplies confused him. She was obviously a born caretaker. At first, he thought she was too gentle for this lifestyle now he thought maybe she was actually very fit for it. The world needs people like her.
When he had nothing left to tend to outside he made his way back inside. Beth was at the table, an old piece of fabric from a shirt was laid flat in front of her and she was cutting into it.
"What's doin'?" He asked as he sat and removed his shoes. Once he'd left his shoes on and tracked mud through the house. She did not appreciate that and he swept for the first time in his life. Looking back on it made him chuckle. Beth standing there with her hands on her hips, looking at him, clearly not happy. Since then he was sure to leave his boots at the door.
"I'm sewing a new carrier sling for Chubs. He's getting too big for the one they've been using. This one will hopefully be more comfortable for the both of them."
He sat across from her at the table and watched as she worked on the project, a fine line of concentration between her eyebrows. Before he knew it, she had hand-sewn something that looked like the top half of coveralls with ties instead of clasps.
He didn't say anything but he was impressed. She called Lydia from the living room and she appeared with Chubs on her hip. Beth took Chubs from his mother and handed him off the Daryl. He bulked, he hadn't held Chubs yet and wasn't sure how Chubs would take to him. She ignored him and plopped the baby on his knee. "Just hang on to him for a second. He doesn't bite."
"Not yet. He's getting a couple teeth coming in though," Lydia said with a laugh.
Daryl turned the baby to face him and he kicked out his chubby little legs pushing off on Daryl's thighs. He smiled and sure enough, there were two little bumps protruding from his bottom gum line. He stuck a fit into his mouth, gnawing and drooling.
"What's up, little guy? Those teeth bothering you?"
Chubs gurgled in return, then let out a shrill squeal, bouncing up and down on Daryl's legs. He reached out and touched Daryl's face lightly with a slobbered covered hand. The boy had the roundest cheeks, inquisitive brown eyes, and a thatch of dark hair. Tiny ears, tiny lips. Daryl couldn't help but smile at him as Chubs continued to talk in baby gibberish.
Obviously, his gums were bothering him. He stood, holding the baby with one arm and went to the counter where Beth had a stack of clean clothes. He took one and dipped it into the water Beth had boiled that morning that had now cooled. Ringing it out, he gave it to Chubs who automatically brought it up to his mouth and began gnawing on it earnestly.
Daryl had been careful not to knock up some random girl throughout the years. Merle wasn't as careful and probably had a handful of illegitimate kids out there. None that he ever claimed and their mothers never seemed interested in Merle being in their lives. It didn't bother Merele any. Before the world fell, Daryl thought maybe one day he'd be a dad, most likely on accident rather than purposefully, though he wasn't sure where that thought came from. He'd never had a serious relationship, nothing lasting longer than a few months.
Watching Chubs gave him an unexpected weird sort of ache in his chest, a longing he'd never experienced before. This was a hard life to grow up in. Did that mean life shouldn't go on? Michonne and Rick had RJ. Now he was growing up without a dad. Michonne takes good care of RJ but there was no doubt in Daryl's mind RJ was missing out on having a great man as a father. Then there was Judith. Persevering and growing up into an amazing young woman, the ass-kicker he'd dubbed her to be from day one. Without Rick. Her mother long gone as well.
Life went on whether you want it to or not, he supposed and there were no guarantees presently or before. One shouldn't be afraid to live, to create a new way. To make a future. If he could ask Rick now, he was sure he wouldn't regret having RJ or Judith or Carl.
The thought of Carl made the ache in his chest deepen. So young, so good, just taken from them for no reason and it made him second guess everything all over again. His cynical more familiar side told him that this life was shit, anyone was crazy to bring a child into the world.
Everpresent frustration that had dimmed a little during his time with Beth mounted once again. Frustration made him feel useless and he hated feeling useless.
"There, is that better?" He asked the baby still chewing on the cloth and went back to the table, settling him onto his lap again. His eyes drifted to Beth who stopped working on fitting the sling on Lydia and was watching him instead.
His gaze went to the scar on her forehead, reminding him of the way her skin felt under his fingers, how the raised bump of the scar felt against his lips. Quickly, he looked away.
He shouldn't have touched her because now he wanted to touch her again and again, sure he'd never be satisfied until he explored every inch of her. He felt her watching him and he tried his best to ignore her scrutiny. He was certain she could read his thoughts so he focused on Chubs, talking quietly to him.
Lydia cleared her throat, thankfully interrupting the moment. "Alright, let's try the sling with him in it." She went to Daryl and lifted Chubs from him. Chubs kicked his feet, fussed and reached back to Daryl.
"Aww, I think you made a friend," Lydia teased.
He had to get out, needed to breathe. The small kitchen walls were pressing in on him. He wasn't used to the onslaught of emotions he felt while in there with Chubs and Lydia. And Beth.
Before, it was just him and Merle. Brothers. Merle made it seem like they didn't need anyone else and Daryl closed himself off to anyone that tried to get too close. Ironically Merle's death bridged the gap between him and Rick. They became brothers; not by blood, but by bond. After Rick, after everyone scattered to the winds, he closed himself off again. It was easier that way. No one to care about, no one to worry about. No one to love and then lose.
He'd gone further away from the cabin than expected and stalled looking up at the branches of trees bending over the path above him. The sky was a royal blue, a light dusting of snow crunching beneath his boots. The cabin made the memories come back thick as if they were from yesterday. Beth opened that floodgate he'd held off for so long.
The air was crisp. Some people might call it bitter. Not him. He took deep breaths of the cleansing zephyr, trying to clear his lungs of the heaviness he felt in the kitchen, knowing he should head back. Beth was capable of taking care of herself, he still didn't like her being in the house alone with Beta. Beta - Obviously not his real name.
He also knew not to underestimate the girl, Lydia. Just because she was young and seemed harmless and had a child didn't mean she wasn't capable of hurting anyone. Really, the child made her more apt to cause harm. Not that he blamed her if she needed to protect her child. The simple fact was you couldn't underestimate anyone.
A snap of a branch caught his attention. Had him stopping in his tracks. Going still, listening intently. He was downwind, affecting his sense of smell. Walkers had a distinct stench of rotting flesh. A flash of movement over his shoulder had him turning to his right. He was quick to act, without much thought, he unhooked his knife from its sheath and threw it. It flew end over end in a blur of motion until it found its target. A deer lay on the ground, kicking out its last bit of life, the knife sunk into the jugular artery in its neck.
He waited some time until it stopped its inevitable struggle. Thankful for any animal that gave its life so he could live, he ran a hand gently over its winter guard, the thicker fur animals grow to protect themselves in the colder months. It was soft and fluffy rather than the coarse wiry hair they carry in the summer. Silently he gave her his thanks before starting on the grisly task of gutting it.
He didn't want to waste much time, the blood would no doubt draw any walker within a ten-mile radius. With his back to the world around him and his focus on the deer, he put himself in a vulnerable position.
Making a cut from the bottom to the neck, he spliced the sternum, sliced the diaphragm from the rib cage, and severed the esophagus. He deftly removed the entrails and the intestines, except the heart and liver. Some people bypass those but they weren't in any position to be picky and they will eat them as well as the meat.
Elbow deep in the deer, he didn't notice the shuffling getting closer and closer.
Daryl took off after handing Chubs over to Beth, leaving her worried. His breathing was heavy, his eyes avoided hers. Seeing him with Chubs opened another part of him she didn't know was there. Really, why would she know? She really knew nothing about the man. His touch had been gentle with her, it shouldn't be too surprising that he was good with the baby.
Turning from the window where she held open the curtain, watching as Daryl disappeared into the woods she focused on Lydia and the baby. No one for months and then she finally has a guest that's somewhat close to her own age who was becoming a fast friend.
"I think he likes the sling," Beth said motioning to Chubs who was now asleep in the sling, his head resting peacefully on Lydia's chest.
"Yeah, thanks so much for making it. I hope once we get settled I'll be able to learn to sew. Funny how a baby changes everything. Before I never even thought of sewing. 'Course back then you didn't have to. You'd just go to the store if you needed something. Get a hole in your shirt, throw it out. Grow out of your jeans, buy a new pair." She paused. "Get pregnant? You go to a doctor."
"That must have been hard, being pregnant," Beth commented as she put a steaming cup of lavender tea in front of Lydia. She slid into the chair across from her.
"Yeah. It was pretty terrible. I was so sick and so scared. My mom wasn't a good mom but I wished she was there to guide me. To tell me what to do, I guess."
Beth frowned, sorry for Lydia and what she went through. It made her ache all the more for her own mother. The best mother Beth ever knew. She'd consider herself lucky - if ever given the chance, if she were half the mother her own was. "Where is your mom?"
Lydia wore her hair up in a ponytail making her look even younger than her eighteen years. She ran a finger over Chubs forehead, contemplating. "She's dead."
Beth reached across the table and lightly touched her hand where it rested in the coffee mug. "I'm so sorry." And because she felt Lydia wanted to talk more about it, Beth asked, "What happened?"
Without any hesitation she answered, her voice soft, almost wistful, "Beta killed her."