The shambling corpses gathering outside the prison perimeters were much like mosquito's to Daryl, buzzing around the fences, irritating him. The repetition of plunging his knife into their soft skulls was a daily recurrence which had ingrained itself into his routine much like the way he would subconsciously swat away a midge. He didn't mind the job, it kept him active, allowed him to let out any aggression as well as allowing his mind to relax. The walker's couldn't get in, but if enough of them piled against the fence itself, there was a chance it would collapse, so here he was, watching them crumple at his feet. Rotting blood was spurting out and over him, over his shirt. As he tore his knife out of a young female's skull, letting her fall in a heap at the bottom of the fence, he heard his name being called. Wiping the knife on the leg of his pants, he turned to see Hershel approaching.

'How's it going?' Hershel said, holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

'Fine,' Daryl said, taking a step away from the fence where another walker reached through in an attempt to grab him.

'Beth told me you showed her how to shoot,' Hershel said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly, attempting to read him. His stomach had twisted as Hershel had spoke, wondering what Beth had said to her father. Anxiety gnawed at him as he waited for Hershel for continue.

'I'm glad,' he said, 'she needs to know how to defend herself.'

'Right,' Daryl said, feeling the tension release.

'If you could continue to do so, I would be grateful,' he said, 'I wont always be around to care for my girls, I need to know they can take care of their self. And Maggie, she's capable, plus she's got Glenn.'

'Mhm,' Daryl said, wary. 'I don' know if i'm the best t' teach-'

'Well, I'd appreciate it, and lord knows she could do with the lessons,' Hershel replied.

Daryl nodded.

'Alright, well I'll leave you to it then,' he said, nodding towards the walker that was still trying to reach through the fence.

Daryl nodded once. He couldn't see himself being the best teacher... he had foolishly offered before, because he had felt indebted to her, but he hadn't been very good. He wasn't a people person, but he respected Hershel, so he felt bad ignoring his request. Glenn was with Maggie so maybe he should help Beth, he was closer to her... but then Glenn wasn't the strongest fighter. Rick, he was good, but he didn't have the time to teach kids... He was the best hunter, there was no question about that. He smiled to himself as he plunged his knife into yet another rotting skull. It was just his social skills that were lacking... but that wasn't an issue, in his opinion. It had never bothered him.

Carol, he thought. Carol could teach her. She was warm and friendly – she had coaxed him out of his shell. Plus he had taught her plenty and she was a good shot – a great shot. He made a mental note to ask her.

Daryl found Carol a couple of hours later, in the prison common room. He made his way to her and sat beside her.

'I've got a favour t'ask yer.' He said, deciding to get straight to it.

'Alright,' Carol said, eyeing him up and down.

'Hershel asked me t'teach Beth t'fight,' he grunted, 'but I though' you'd be a better suit.'

Carol looked at him for a while, her face pensive.

'Why?'

'Why wha'?' Daryl frowned.

'Why me?' Carol asked. 'You're a much better fighter than I am.'

'You're just as good,' he shrugged, making her laugh it off. 'And you're better at... y'now.'

'At what, Daryl?' Carol asked. Her eyes were glittering with her smile.

'Y'know... people' he shrugged.

Carol chuckled.

'You know,' she said, leaning back to look at him, taking him in, 'I think it will be good for you.'

'Nah,' Daryl shook his head, frowning, 'jus' be awkward for both o' us.'

'You're the better fighter and hunter of us,' Carol said, 'and some social interaction will do you good.'

Daryl grunted. He wasn't sure whether Carol was messing with him or not, but he could see she had made up her mind either way.

'Fine,' he gruffed, getting up.

'Where're you going?' Carol laughed.

'T'find Beth, then,' he groaned, making Carol raise her eyebrows in surprise.

. . .

Beth was laying on her bed, reading a book she had found in the prison library. The prison was quiet around her and her eyes were beginning to droop as she found herself re-reading the same line over and over. She lay her book down on her chest and shut her eyes, putting her arms over her face. Sleeping didn't come easy these days, everything was always so tense, so scary. Even now, in the prison, indoors and with guards on duty 24/7, she still found herself waking up in the night in a fit of panic. It hadn't been so bad when she had been at home; when the world had gone to hell, they had avoided the worst of it on their farm, away from the big cities and the large population. That had changed after the farm was overrun; their nights out in the open still haunted her.

Two light taps jolted her back awake, causing her heart to jump into her throat. She sat up, looking around.

'Hey,' Daryl's deep voice grunted from the doorway, surprising her.

'Daryl!' Beth gasped, her hand holding her chest, as if she was trying to keep her heart in check.

'So've'ya ever shot a cross bow before?' he said, looking at her through his hair.

'I – no,' Beth said, confused, 'I haven't.'

'C'mon,' he said, 'I'ma teach ya.'

'What? Really?' Beth said.

Daryl nodded slowly, so Beth got up from her bed, smoothing the back of her jeans down. Daryl nodded to her, then turned around to leave. Beth followed him, her heart in her throat. She was beyond confused. The last time they had been together he had left abruptly, leaving Beth feeling like she had done something wrong. She hadn't seen him for a few days, so him turning up at her door was unexpected to say the least.

'So,' Daryl said, as they made their way out of the prison, 'y'dad asked me to teach ya to survive.'

'Oh,' Beth said. She had mentioned the shooting practice to her father, but she hadn't expected him to speak to Daryl about it. It had just been a passing comment.

'You don't have to teach me just because my daddy...' Beth said, feeling awkward.

Daryl just shrugged beside her.

They made the rest of the way down to the prison grounds in silence, both feeling awkward.

Daryl was trying to ignore the awkward tension he could feel radiating from the young girl. He was going to help her learn to survive, which was an essential skill, and he was doing it for her dad, who he respected. That wasn't a bad thing.

Beth was inwardly panicking at what her Daddy had said - had he painted her to be a weak, fragile girl who needed protecting? Did Daryl think she was a gossipy little girl, running to her father. Her cheeks were burning once they stopped.

'Okay,' Daryl said, stopping. He was looking down at the crossbow which he was holding loosely in his hand. After a moment, he held it out to Beth, who looked down at it tentatively.

'Grab it here,' he said, pointing at the longest part, then he deftly twisted it around in his one hand, so it was facing his own chest. Beth carefully took it. It was as heavy as it looked, and her arms dropped a little.
''kay, hold it up, look down here,' Daryl pointed, 'aim for that tree.'

Beth squinted one eye shut, looking down the bow. It was heavy in her arms, and she felt racked with nerves at the closeness of Daryl. That he had entrusted her with his crossbow was shocking enough, but having him there watching her use it terrified her.

'G'on,' Daryl said softly.

Beth pulled the trigger, completely missing the tree.

'Sorry,' she said, biting her lip.

Daryl just shook his head as if to say no worries, then went to fetch the bolt. As he came back, he put his hand out for the crossbow. Beth watched, impressed, as he dug it into the ground by his foot to reload it, the muscles in his arms straining against his skin.

'Right,' he said, motioning for her to come towards him. Beth gingerly obeyed, as he handed the crossbow back to her. This time, however, he placed his hands on her arms, holding them steady. He helped her aim, then breathed, 'go,' in her ear. His breath tickled her ear and the back of her neck, sending a shiver which ran its way all the way down her body, curling in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed hard, attempting to ignore it, and fired. The bolt just about landed in the tree, but incredibly off-center.

'Better,' Daryl said, stepping back, 'le' me show ya how to reload it.'

Beth nodded, watching as he took another bolt from behind him and loaded it on.

They continued to practice for some time, until Beth felt a little more confident in her abilities.

'Y'wanna learn how t' track?' Daryl asked her. He had been learning against a tree, his arms folded across his chest, watching her.

'Sure!' Beth said, feeling more eager now as her confidence grew.

'I'll take ya out,' Daryl said, taking the crossbow back from her, 'jus' beyond into those woods there.' He nodded towards them with his head.

A prickle of fear ran through Beth as she glanced out to the woods. But she would be with Daryl and they wouldn't go far; there was no real danger.

So she found herself heading out of the gates, keeping close behind Daryl as he picked off a few straggling walkers which had been milling around outside the prison. Once they entered the cover of the hedgerow, Daryl removed the crossbow from himself, and handed it back to Beth.

'Alright,' he said, 'what'd'ya see?'

Beth looked around, not really seeing anything. The trees were thick around them, the sounds of the bushes and leaves moving in the wind and rubbing together were unnerving. She looked down at the floor, scanning the mud.

'Oh!' she gasped quietly, 'footsteps!'

She looked up at Daryl, who was nodding at her. She crouched down to examine the markings on the forest floor. The leaves had been disturbed in sections, imprints of a shoe pressing into the wetter mud beneath. As Beth looked, she noticed the print was smudged, as if the floor had been dragged. She looked around, noticing the way the leaves were scraped in a line, before spotting a similar indentation in the mud nearby.

'It's a walker,' she said, looking up at Daryl.

'Yeah,' he grunted, seemingly pleased.

Beth followed the marks, getting more and more excited with every new one she spotted. After a while, in which she kept close to the ground, making sure she really was following a trail, with Daryl following almost silently behind her, she spotted the walker a little way off. It was crouched down, gorging itself on some fallen animal. Excited, Beth raised the crossbow to the cheek, looking down its length. She stepped forward, keeping the walker in sight, the bolt aimed for its head. She took another step when suddenly a searing pain shot up her leg, and her weight was taken from under her. She cried out, causing the walker to look up, and then head towards her.

She had stumbled into a bear trap, hidden in the leaves. Her ankle was caught between the metal, the searing pain throbbing its way up her entire leg. Quickly, she picked up the crossbow and aimed it at the walker, but she shot a sloppy shot and missed it completely. Panic quickly rose in her chest as the walker descended on her. Suddenly, Daryl was there, he pounced on the walking corpse and plunged his knife into its head. The two of them tumbled down to the forest floor, where Daryl removed his knife from the head of the walker.

'Beth,' he panted, pulling himself from the walker, ''m so sorry, I should'a seen-' he yanked the metal clamps apart, allowing Beth to remove her foot from the trap.

'Can ya move it?' he said.

Beth circled it very slowly, feeling the jolts of pain rocket up her shin bone.

'A little,' she said through gritted teeth, 'I don't think it's broken.'

Daryl stood up and held his hand out to Beth, which she took. Once she was on her feet, she realised she could not put any pressure on her foot.

'C'mere,' Daryl said, wrapping his strong arm around her waist. Beth leaned into him, using him as support, as he slowly helped her make her way back out of the forest. They hadn't gotten very far before Daryl realised the strain the injury was putting on the young girl. She was breathing fast and heavily and a sheen of sweat had broken out over her face.

'Wait,' he said, stopping, 'C'mere.' He turned around and crouched slightly, putting his arms out behind him.

'What?' Beth looked at him, confused, 'seriously?'

'Yeah,' he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder, 'it's a serious piggy back.'

With a considerable amount of effort, Beth got up onto his back. Daryl hitched her up, locking his hands beneath her. They made their way back to the prison in this fashion, Beth feeling completely foolish. Her ankle throbbed though, so her embarrassment was clouded by the haze of pain. She was also painfully aware of how close she was to Daryl, with her legs wrapped around his middle. As the prison came into sight, Daryl shifted her weight to raise one hand to the sentry tower. The couple of walkers out there were picked off by someone within the camp, and then the doors dragged open.

Unsurprisingly, Maggie was first on the scene.

'What happened?' she demanded, throwing Daryl an accusatory look.

'I caught my leg in a bear trap,' Beth explained from over Daryl's shoulder, 'it's my fault.'

'What were you doing outside!' Maggie said forcefully, her eyes still trained on Daryl.

'Daddy asked Daryl to teach me to hunt.' Beth said, then added 'I'm in a lot of pain Maggie, I need to get indoors.'

'Of course,' Maggie said, 'can you walk? Let me help you.'

'I got her,' Daryl said, walking past Maggie with Beth still on his back. Maggie looked after them, wide eyed for a moment, then jogged to catch up with them.

'I thought you were supposed to be looking after her, Daryl,' she said as they entered the prison.

'I kno', I'm sorry, I di'n't see the trap,' he said.

'Not a very good tracker then, are you,' Maggie said, stroking her sister's face as they waked.

'It wasn't his fault at all, Maggie.' Beth said, 'he's helped me, he carried me all the way home.'

'Hmm,' Maggie looked Daryl up and down, then turned back to Beth, 'At least you're safe. Daddy will see to your ankle. You'll be just fine.'

Beth nodded.

Her father reinstated that the ankle was not broken, but it was swollen, and would need to be rested for a fair amount of time. Which meant no more target practice for a little while, he had laughed. He had bandaged her foot up tightly, fairly unfazed by the injury to his youngest daughter. All the while, both Maggie and Daryl had stayed with her, Maggie busying around, making sure she really was okay, while Daryl stood more detached further back.

'Thank you for getting her home,' Hershel had said to him, 'I prescribe a few days of bed rest, little miss,' he had said to Beth, gently patting her shoulder.

So Beth found herself back on her bed, this time with her ankle bandaged up and swollen. The pain was still there, but tolerable now. Maggie had fussed around her for a little while, but eventually left her alone, alone with her thoughts. Hunting in the woods with Daryl had been interesting, while it lasted. He had seemed more relaxed with her, more in his element out in the forest. The more time Beth spent with him, even in these very small doses, the more she realised he wasn't as abrasive or intimidating as she had first thought. He was a lone wolf, preferring his own company to anyone else's, and that was fine, she thought before she drifted off to sleep; he wasn't a bad guy.