A little special treat today with a longer chapter. I couldn't just cut this one in half. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think. Also this is a nod to episode Still. Enjoy!
Beth always woke early, a side effect of growing up on a farm. Today she woke extra early. The turmoil of the day had her tossing and turning most of the night and was still weighing heavily on her mind this morning. All that aside, she was excited to start processing the deer. Strange thing to be excited about but this was her life now.
Melting snow melting in the rising sun surrounded the property in thick fog. The dim, damp air chilled through her layers. She didn't notice, so preoccupied with what needed to be done, going through the to-do list in her mind as she retrieved the water from the well.
She needed to gather the empty jars from the root cellar then sanitize them in boiling water. This would be more easily done in the giant stock pot on an outside fire pit. The pot was too large for the stove inside. She didn't use the firepit very often, afraid the added scent and commotion might attract walkers. Certain times cause for more extreme measures and she'd have to take the risk.
She also needed to sharpen her field knives. The knife she carried with her every day was always sharpened, the processing knives weren't used often and dulled over time. Lastly, she wanted to dig out her father's old hand crank meat grinder. She'd can most of the venison and make jerky with some of the meat. Tonight, though, they were going to have old fashioned hamburgers (minus the buns) for dinner. Just thinking about it made her mouth water.
By the time she retrieved everything needed, Daryl and Beta were already at work in the garage. In times past, it didn't take all that long to process a deer, especially one of this smaller size. Now, without modern conveniences, like everything else, took a bit longer. Having a few extra hands would make it go by a bit quicker.
Daryl looked up when she entered the garage, their gaze held a moment before he focused back on what he was doing. She wasn't able to read his expression. Couldn't tell if he was upset with her, which he had every right to be after she behaved. "Up and at it already?" Beth asked, plastering a smile on her face. This was going to be a good day, she was determined.
"Yep. Wanted to get a jump start on it." Beta spoke up, surprising Beth. They were bent over the deer that had been laid out onto the tarp. Daryl looked up at her again, this time holding her gaze a little longer. She ignored the accelerated heart rate beating under her ribs caused by Daryl's ice blue eyes. Had they always been this shade of blue? Sharp. Piercing, heating her blood.
"Well, all the hard work will be worth it. We'll have a feast tonight," she replied to Beta.
Beta shifted, nodded. "I'm sure you two will enjoy that." His brow furrowed.
"What do you mean? The four of us will enjoy it!" She was happy to share. They were all thin, too thin, and hadn't had a decent meal in far too long. Squirrel and rabbit and potatoes could only take you so far. There was no way she'd eat venison burgers in front of Beta and Lydia. "You're kind of enough to help, the least I can do is feed y'all."
He looked up at her in surprise. "I'll look forward to that," Beta spoke with more enthusiasm than Beth had ever heard him talk within the few conversations they'd had. "Thanks, Beth."
"Of course. It's no problem." Her eyes went back to Daryl and his stare seemed to soften with her interaction with Beta. The right corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile and her stomach, though very cliche, flipped.
Daryl hadn't deserved how she treated him the day before. She hoped maybe they could just move on from here. Starting fresh, keeping her personal feelings about him out of it. Her goal was to make everything go as smoothly as possible. She didn't expect any of them, Beta, Lydia, or Daryl to help. Yet they were. She was greatly appreciative. If she had to do this all on her own it would take her days, rather than a day.
They all worked well together. The guys put the processed meat into a bucket of water and when it was filled she'd switch it out for a fresh bucket. Nothing was wasted. They skinned the deer to be made into clothing. Bones were also kept to make broth. Heart, kidney, backstraps, would be eaten. Once everything was taken they took the carcass to the nearby river to discard it, giving the fish and other river creatures something to eat as well.
She took the meat into the kitchen where she and Lydia split it up, processing it into smaller cuts, separating what would be used for jerky and what would be ground up for the burgers. Together they began the laborious process of canning the rest of the meat.
"Yuck," Lydia commented as she cut up a kidney that would be canned and used for soup at another time. "I know I shouldn't complain, but this is really gross. I used to be a vegetarian."
"I know what you mean. Kidney is not the most appetizing but it's a good source of protein," Beth replied cheerfully.
Lydia rolled her eyes and laughed. "How do you do that?" She asked, itching her nose with the back of her hand, pushing her hair out of her face. She looked over her shoulder at Chubs who was laying on his belly on a blanket they set up on the floor playing with a wooden spoon. He was content and happy for the moment.
"Do what?" Beth asked gamely. She loved Lydia's honesty.
"You're just so naturally optimistic. I struggle with it. I just can't help but see how shity everything is. That I have to eat a kidney to not starve." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I sound like a spoiled brat."
Beth thought about her response before speaking, wanting to say the right thing. Lydia was entitled to her opinion and no, to Beth, she did not sound like a spoiled brat. "There's no rule that says you don't have to enjoy every aspect of life. I imagine being a mom makes you very aware of the dangers we all face. And sometimes, believe me, I get down about how things are too. I miss my family. I miss the farm I grew up on. I miss Mcdonald's Coke," she laughed.
Lydia giggled and agreed. "For sure!"
"Sure, I miss how things used to be. At the time I didn't realize how easy they were. I thought life was hard." Beth closed her eyes for a moment, remembering how it was for her at Lydia's age. "All the barn chores. School. Friend drama. My sister. I swear, tried to make my life a living hell, but she was just being a big sister. I worried about what I wanted to do with my life. Should I continue working or go to college. I'd have to pay my own way and how would I do that? I blamed my parents for not saving for my education. I didn't think that they were doing the best they could with what they had. When I think about those things, it puts everything into perspective. You don't know what you don't know and you can't be blamed for that."
Lydia had stopped her work and was watching Beth as she spoke. "If I get to thinking negatively I just remind myself it could be worse. It could always be worse,' she repeated. "And if things would have been different I wouldn't'a met you." She winked at Lydia. "Or Chubs."
Their conversation made her think of Daryl - of course, her thoughts were never far from him. If the world hadn't fallen, if she stayed at the farm, if she hadn't chosen to open her home to strangers, if it hadn't snowed… then she would have never met him either. She'll be sad to see him go, sad to see all of them go. Devastated even. But, at least she got to meet them, got to meet Daryl, be with them for a short while. She had to make this time with them mean something, whatever that meant.
Lydia wiped her hands on a cloth and went to Chubs, picked him up, and gave him a noisy smooch on the cheek bringing him over to Beth where she worked at the table.
"You got Thomas," Beth said, calling him by his real name, smiling at the baby who broadly smiled back. "He's healthy and happy. And tonight we'll have a great dinner. It ain't all bad. It's just different."
Surprising Beth, Lydia wrapped her arms around Beth, sandwiching Chubs in between them. "You're right," Lydia agreed. "I'll eat that nasty kidney if I have to." She and Beth laughed until they lost their breath.
"Thank you for giving us a place to stay."
Neither man was talkative. They worked smoothly together both having to do this regularly over their lives. It was only one deer and between the two of them, they made quick work of it. Beth and Lydia had the bigger job. When Beta finally did speak up Daryl was surprised at his candor.
He shrugged. "Not my place to say either way. This is Beth's house."
"Y'all ain't together?" Beta asked, his voice rising in curiosity.
"Na'. I only been here a little longer than you." Had it only been a few months? It seemed longer - in a good way. He'd gotten to the point where he couldn't imagine not being here, couldn't imagine his life without her in it. What the hell was he going to do? He wondered. He couldn't just assume to stay here.
Beta gave an 'uh-huh sure whatever you say' look but went on. "I think we'll make our way to the community in a few days."
"Probably better there. More people. Better for Chubs," Daryl agreed. He hadn't been there himself. Beth wouldn't have gone there more than once if she didn't think it was a decent community.
He nodded. Then after a few minutes of silence, he said "I know what you're thinking."
Daryl stalled in work and looked at Beta, trying to get a feel for where he was heading. This conversation could go either way. "Oh yeah?" He asked.
"Yeah, I just think you should know I ain't Chubs father. I wouldn't do that, Lydia is half my age."
Beta bent to rinse his hands in a bucket of water. With his back to Daryl, he continued talking. "I try to mind my own business," Daryl said, which was true enough. Who was he to judge? Things were different now. It was the wild wild west. Rules and law and decorum meant nothing.
"I was with her mother. I look at Lydia as more of my kid. I'm no dad but Lydia is probably as close to being my daughter as I'll get to having kids of my own."
He went on, "I was living in an abandoned hospital. Lydia and her crazy-ass mother showed up one day. She called herself Alpha. That's where I got my name. Alpha. Beta. Anyway, that woman had a few screws loose. She'd wear the skin of walkers as a mask to safely walk among walkers without being noticed. I'm not sure where she came up with the idea, but it worked."
Daryl in turn washed his hands and leaned against the Nova. Kicked out his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Beta to finish what he had to say.
"Long story short, she kept getting more and more out there. She formed this group, called themselves the Whispers," Beta rolled his eyes like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Lydia got pregnant. I was worried for her and the baby. Afraid Alpha might harm them in some way. I'd seen her do it before. Forced a woman to leave her baby to the walkers when it wouldn't stop crying."
Beta looked about as horrified as Daryl felt. He shook it off and continued. "Things came to a head and I killed her. I killed Alpha to save Lydia and Chubs. After that, I couldn't just abandon Lydia. I done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of that matters now. Finding a safe place for Lydia and Chubs is what matters."
It had been a long time since Daryl had felt the need to put anyone first as Beta did with Chubs and Lydia. Not since Rick. Then he met Beth and in this short amount of time he was sure he'd lay down his life for her.
Daryl decided Beta wasn't so bad, he'd done the right thing as far as he was concerned. He pushed off the car and said, "Well, no matter what happened in the past, I think you're doing the right thing. I'll help you any way I can to get you where you want to go."
"'Preciate that," Beta said, nodding.
Chubs and Lydia and Beta were in the loft asleep after the long day of work and a filling dinner. For the first time since any of them remembered, they were all stuffed. Fresh burger patties, canned green beans, and Lydia had the great idea to cut potatoes into slices and cook them in lard to make potato chips. They were almost as good as the real thing. For Chubs, they boiled a potato to mash up. He ate it up along with two green beans. And then they had canned peaches for dessert. Not Chubs though. Lydia was afraid it would be too much for him for one night.
Daryl took over feeding Chubs his dinner for Lydia so she could eat her food. Beth tried not to stare as Daryl talked to him, making him, and in turn, everyone else, laugh. There weren't many better sounds than the belly laugh of a baby. Or the site of a grown man giving his attention to that baby. Watching him with Chubs made Beth feel all kinds of things.
She was exhausted but too keyed up and confused to sleep. She was sitting at the table, staring at the flickering flame of the candle placed in the middle of the table, too tired to move. They finished the canning and cleaned up that mess, then made dinner and had to clean up that mess. No dishwasher or running water made it that much more work.
If she was being honest with herself, she was waiting for Daryl to come back inside after finishing a few things up outside, probably sneaking a cigarette he thinks she knows nothing about. A small smile spread her lips, thinking about it. So she waited, thinking, speculating, wondering until he finally did come inside.
She sat up a bit straighter when he finally did, carrying a breeze of cool air with him. The flame jumped almost going out completely before rallying and dancing on the wick again. He kicked off his boots, hung his coat next to hers. Instead of going directly into the living room, Daryl slumped into the chair nearest Beth at the table.
"Thought you'd be asleep," he commented. The shadows of the flame playing on the angles of his ruggedly handsome face.
"I think I'm beyond tired," she said, smiling sleepily.
He nodded, trailing his thumbnail in a crease in the grain of the tabletop. It was the first time they'd been alone since the day before in the garage. "Yeah. Too tired to sleep," he mumbled.
The seconds ticked by, the silence combusting with things not said. A physical barrier between them until Beth swallowed her pride. "About yesterday," she began. After all he did for her, for them, without even being asked. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you. It wasn't okay."
His head snapped up, surprised. "You don't gotta apologize to me, Beth. My feelings ain't hurt very easily."
"But you didn't deserve it." Her rebuttal died on her lips when he waved her off.
"It's fine." He leaned back in the chair casually, dropping an arm around the backrest. Like it was no big deal.
"Daryl." The shame she felt still hung heavily on her shoulders.
"Beth, stop." He smiled slightly, the flame reflecting in his eyes, making them appear black, no longer blue. "It's fine. We're fine."
Beth nodded, we're fine. They sat in companionable silence until finally, she stood, her eyes brightening mischievously. "I think I got something that might help us sleep."
His eyebrow lifted curiously and he watched as she went to a cupboard and stood on her toes, reaching for the top shelf. She came back with a jar filled with clear liquid and two more jars that were used as their regular drinking glasses.
She put the jars on the table, one in front of Daryl and one in front of her and she sat again. She poured two fingers of the liquid into each jar. Lifting her glass she held it midair, waiting for him to join her. "Come on, this one's for you," she scooted his glass a little closer with a finger. "My dad always said moonshine will make you go blind," she told him, smiling at the memory.
"Ain't nothin' out there worth seeing anyway," he countered.
"May as well make the best of it," she said in return.
"What the hell," he grumbled and lifted his glass, tapping it lightly to hers in a silent salute, downing the liquid in one gulp.
He watched her eyes as she tentatively sipped the drink, testing it out before gulping it. The only sign of the burn was the slight curl of her top lip. "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted. Second rounds always better?" She asked, pouring more into each cup.
He hesitated then drank, bared his teeth at the burn. "Shit. Second round always better."
"'Nother?" She asked.
"Na, I'm good." His voice was gravely, rough. Goosebumps broke out over her skin. She ran a hand over her forearms thankful for the sleeves that covered her skin. She didn't want him to know what his voice did to her.
"Why?" She asked, already feeling the weight of the moonshine hitting her brain. She'd never drank before. She weighed even less now than she did when she was sixteen. It wouldn't take much to become inebriated. At least her belly was full.
"Someone's gotta keep watch." Silly answer. No one kept watch. They were safe in the locked cabin.
"So what, you like my chaperone now?" She poured, sipped. Sipped again.
"Someone's gotta' be," he chuckled.
"Sure, Mr. Dixon," she chuckled, peering at him over the rim of her glass, daring him with those eyes. "Drink up! We might as well make the best of it. Unless you're too busy chaperoning."
"Oh, hell," he mumbled. He pushed his glass toward her and she poured more for the both of them. "Have you ever even gotten lit before?" He asked.
"Na'. I mostly watched. I was the designated driver. Someone my sister would call at two in the monin' when she was too wasted to drive herself home."
"Ah, a good girl."
She didn't know why but she bristled. "I ain't a good girl," she scoffed. "I've done plenty of dumb stuff in my life."
"Oh yeah? Tell me some of the dumb stuff you did," he said expectantly, bordering arrogantly, that told her whatever she'd done was nothing compared to what he's done.
She thought for a second then took a breath and began to list all that came to mind at that moment. "I climbed the water tower in town when all my friends were too afraid to. Raced my Nova down the main street with the Sherrif right on my tale. 'Course he let me go 'cause he knew my Daddy. I barrel raced bareback at the county fair till I was sixteen and broke my tailbone when I was bucked off."
"Ahh, wild girl. I'm impressed." He stared at her, smiling that crooked smile of his, slowly twirling the jar on the table with his fingertips.
"At the same time, I loved my family and was very much a Daddy's girl. I looked forward to Sundays when we'd go to church together, all five of us, and then with everyone pitching in, we'd have dinner afterward. Pretty dresses, my hair brushed out just so by my sister or my mother, because it was usually a mess," she laughed fondly at the memory. "I was a bit of a tomboy."
But when it came to boys, she wasn't what she'd call experienced. That probably explained why her face flushed whenever Daryl looked at her - just looked at her, as he was doing now, without saying anything.
By the fifth refill, they were feeling pretty good and the words came easier.
"Where'd you get this?" He asked, looking at the clear liquid suspiciously. "You got a Still I don't know about?"
"Na'. My dad was an alcoholic," she said then realized through the fog, that made no sense. "I mean he never kept alcohol 'round the house because he was an alcoholic. But my Mama kept a jar or two medicinally. For headaches and stuff."
Daryl made a pfft sound. "This shit will give you a headache, not get rid of one."
"Guess so." She laughed easily with him. "It's your turn. Tell me something about you," she said after a while, the alcohol making her feel good. She was curious about him. Wanted to know everything there was to know about this quiet, handsome, unexpected man.
"Nothin' to tell." He rested his chin on his fist, elbow resting on the table, watching her watching him.
"What about hunting. Your dad teach you?" She asked, trying to pull information out of him.
He nodded. "Mm-hmm. We had to hunt. No hunting meant no food."
"What about your brother? What about," she paused, "What about Rick?" He'd talked about someone named Rick in his sleep when he had been delirious with fever. "Is he your brother?"
His eyes suddenly sober and sharp met hers. He said nothing for a long time listening to the fire crackling in the fireplace in the living room as they finished the rest of the moonshine. Beth was sure she'd said the wrong thing.
Eventually, he stood and said, " Yes, he was my brother."
Was, past tense.
"Come on," he said changing the subject. He held out his hand, "I'll help ya' to bed."
She scoffed. "I don't need no help." But as she stood she stumbled slightly. Daryl caught her by her shoulders, her hands landing on his chest, fingers splayed outward.
"Apparently I'm a lightweight," she giggled.
"Maybe just a little bit," he chuckled. He took her hands from his chest, enfolding the right fist in his much larger hand, and helped her to the living room.
As he was lowering her to the mattress she slid from his fingers and fell the remaining two feet onto the mattress. He tried to catch her but lost his balance in the process and being a little drunk himself, he tumbled onto the bed as well as on top of Beth.
Laughter bayed out of her like a hound. "Shhh," Daryl said. He couldn't help but chuckle too.
She lay on the blanket. Her eyes, hooded and sleepy. She snorted and put her finger to her lips. "Shh," she mimicked. Giggled. Actually giggled.
Then her smile faded, her laughter died. Things turned suddenly serious. She moved her finger from her lips to Daryl's, tracing them with the tip of her finger. The sensation sent a shiver through his body and he became acutely aware he was still laying on top of her and quickly moved, sitting up with his back leaning against the chair.
She clumsily sat up, shifting up onto her knees. Watching him with unfocused eyes. "You afraid of me or something?" She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling.
"Afraid?" He asked incredulously. "Afraid of a tiny little thing like Beth Greene?"
Well yes, actually. She scared the shit out of him but not in a typical way fear grips hold of someone. He made her feel things he was not comfortable with. And that scared him.
She shuffled over to him on her knees, placing herself between his thighs. "You didn't let me finish what I wanted to say earlier."
"I told you don't have to 'apologize," he was quick to say.
"No. No, let me say what I want to say," she frowned. He was following her, just barely.
She quickly went on before she lost her nerve. "When you left and didn't come back I was worried. The idea of something happening to you,'' she paused, bit her bottom lip almost forcing all coherent thought to vanish from his brain. "It scared me."
"It scared you? Why? I been wandering 'round by myself a long time," he reminded her.
"Yeah, well, that was before you came here. Before I knew you. But now the thought of you leaving… I just don't like it." Her voice got quiet, as though she was sad.
She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. He bent his head, caught her eye. "I won't take off again without telling you first. Okay?"
"Yes, okay," she whispered. "I'd like it better if you stayed. Permanently." Her eyes cautiously met his.
He didn't want to go anywhere any more than she wanted him to go. Apparently, surprisingly, they agreed on this. It made his chest tighten. Does that mean she wanted him to stay on? They were drunk, could he take what she was saying as anything more than drunken ramblings?
He wasn't drunk or brave enough to ask that.
She was so close, he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. Her had landed on his thigh, squeezing lightly. His gaze traveled over her face, down her hair. He was surprised to hear himself say, "Take your braid out." His voice, hoarse from exhaustion and alcohol.
Without question, she reached behind her and removed the strip of fabric she used as a hair tie. Splaying her fingers through the long tendrils she unwound the braid. Wavy, silky soft just like he knew it to be. It fell in waves over her shoulders, down her back.
She leaned forward, pausing to look into his eyes, maybe read his thoughts, hell if he knew. Her hand drifted from his thigh, up to his chest. His eyes dropped to her perfect pink lips. When she leaned into him and placed her lips to his, he held his breath afraid any movement might break the spell they were under.
At first, he didn't respond. It was simply her lips pressed to his, adjusting to the first physical contact he'd had since before he left his home. He was sure his heart shuttered to a stop, his eyes closed on their own accord and his mouth relaxed against hers, sinking in. She tasted like 'shine and peaches. It mixed with the cigarette he snuck in earlier after dinner.
She angled her head, slid her tongue into his mouth. A moan escaped from deep within his chest as her hands slid up his chest to his broad shoulders. The heat between them ramping up. His hand curled around her throat, his thumb caressing her jawline, feeling the solid beat of her heart against his palm.
He wished he could say the kiss was sloppy, drunken, that it did nothing for him. It was the complete opposite. Soft, yet powerful. Her tongue entangled with his. He felt it through his entire body. She sighed against his lips. He felt her shift, giving herself completely over to him and it scared the shit out of him.