'Where are you going?' It was an innocent question, but it made the hairs on the back of Daryl's neck stand on end. It aggravated him.

Shouldering his crossbow, he turned around to see Beth looking at him.

'Hun'in',' he grunted, turning away.

'Take me!' Beth said, hurrying over to him, 'you haven't shown me anything in ages.'

'Nah,' Daryl said, 's'quicker on m'own.'

'Oh come on,' Beth pouted, 'I'll do as you say.'

Daryl turned to look at her. He wanted to go out and be alone; he needed to be alone. Just him, the outdoors, and his crossbow. It was what he needed right now, some space and quiet to sort his thoughts, clear his head.

'No,' he said, more firmly this time, 'I need t' be alone.'

Beth stood in front of him, folding her arms.

'Take me with you.' She said.

Daryl stared at her. A couple of weeks ago, she would scurry from the room if he entered, but now here she was, demanding from him. It annoyed him, wound him up, and god knows he was feeling wound up lately. Like a tightly wound spring, he needed a release to his frustration and anger. He glared at her, chewing the inside of his cheek.

She was looking at him, her lips pouted, her arms folded, her blonde hair pulled back from her face.

He shook his head, angry, and stormed away from her.

His boots echoed as he trudged his way down the prison, heading out. He hated the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him. He had made a huge mistake in ever talking to her, ever getting friendly with her – he wasn't her friend, couldn't be her friend. They had nothing in common, nothing to talk about.

It was pointless. Fruitless. Useless. All she was doing was messing his head up.

'Hey there little brother!' Merle's voice caught Daryl off guard.

He spun on his heel, turning to him.

'I ain't got time for you,' Daryl grunted to him, 'leave me alone.'

'Hey hey hey,' Merle goaded, 'what's gotten you so shook up, aye? Come tell big brother Merle all about it.' Merle was leaning through the bars, his elbows balanced on them, grinning over at his brother.

'It aint got nothin' to do wi' you Merle' Daryl spat.

'Y'heads all messed up brother,' Merle sung, 'I can tell, always could.'

'No,' Daryl said, beginning to pace, 'no,' he turned and jabbed a finger towards his brother, 'you don't know me, you don't know nothin'.'

'Is it tha' little blonde thing I saw you follow hmm?' Merle ask, his small eyes gleaming, 'one who walked out when we got in here, pretty thing?'

Daryl rounded on him.

'Oh ho ho!' Merle chuckled in spiteful glee, 'she got you all twisted up, huh? Sweet little blonde girl, I didn't realise, brother, didn't realise you liked 'em so young, so … virginal-'

Daryl grabbed his brothers shirt through the iron bars.

'You shut your goddamn mouth,' he growled, his face inches away from his brothers.

'Ohhhh you are messed up,' Merle chuckled.

Daryl let go of his shirt with force, knocking Merle back a few steps.

'Shut up,' he warned, pointing to him. He spat at his brothers feet, then turned away, storming out of the room.

. . .

'Goddamn bunch o' idiots' he spat, plunging his knife deep into the skull of a walker.

He was sick and tired of people thinking they knew him, thinking they could tell him what to do, how to act.

He pulled his knife free of the walker, plunging it into another one, relishing the strain on his muscles, the adrenaline that began to pump through him.

He stormed further into the forest, angrily kicking aside anything in his way. He didn't want to hunt, he wanted to fight.

His boots left imprints in the mud beneath him as he walked, not caring for where he went.

'Daryl!' a breathless voice caught up with him.

He spun around to see Beth hurrying towards him, her own boots covered in mud, leaves in her hair.

'Wha' the hell are yer doing?' he yelled at her, stamping back towards her.

'I'm coming with you,' she said, stopping where she was to get her breath back.

'No,' Daryl growled, 'God I said no, don't you ever listen?' he threw his crossbow to the ground, fury blinding him, 'why you always gotta be such a stupid, dumb bitch?!'

Beth stared at him.

'You left me.' She said, anger rising in her own voice. 'You promised you wouldn't leave again.'

'You aint nothing to leave!' he shouted. 'You got no hold on me! You aint nothin' to me!'

'But-'

'Nah, I said I weren't leaving no more and I aint, didn' realise that meant you was gon' follow me 'round like some dumb puppy!' he shouted.

'Daryl!' Beth yelled, storming up to him, 'don't be like this!'

'Like what?' he yelled, rounding on her, 'I aint being like nothin'! This is me!'

'It isn't!' Beth cried.

'What do you want from me, girl?' he shouted, his faces merely inches from hers, 'huh?'

'I want you to stop acting like a jackass!' Beth yelled back, grabbing at his arm as he tried to pull away from her, 'I want you to stop guarding yourself!'

'I aint guarding myself, quit acting like you know me!' he snapped.

'Then let me!' Beth cried, grabbing his arm, 'let me know you!'

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and stormed away from her, leaving her looking after him, breathless.

He stormed through the undergrowth, swinging his crossbow wildly beside his legs. His mind was clouded by fury that had descended over his subconscious, and beneath the heated fog were a tidal wave of emotions which left him reeling if he looked at them head on. The anger was a defense mechanism, a way for him to pretend the real emotions behind the barrier were not there at all. And almost every single one of them stemmed from the stupid girl who had followed him out here - her soft face, her light, girlish curves, her long pale hair, the twang of her voice when she spoke to him... it made no sense to him and he still couldn't place her. He couldn't comfortably put her in one section, couldn't understand who or what she was to him, or why he was so goddamn bothered by it.

'Hey look!' he suddenly shouted, turning around, 'some walkers!'

'Daryl,' Beth breathed.

Wide eyed, she watched him head back towards her, his face dark and angry.

'Daryl!' she cried again as he grabbed her arm, yanking her forward. She lost her footing, stumbling, but he pulled her irregardless, forcing her to regain her balance. He pulled her beyond the trees they had been standing by, where three walkers were making their way towards them, their groans growing in volume as they spotted the two potential meals.

'Y'wanna know me?' he growled, grabbing her and spinning her around to face the walkers.

'Come on then,' he spat, pulling her towards him until her back hit his chest, her knees almost giving way. He held her up, wrapping one of his strong, muscular arms around her small frame, holding the crossbow up in front of her.

'Can y'see through my eyes?' he growled in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

'Daryl,' she whispered, trying to wriggle free from him, 'stop.'

Daryl fired the crossbow into the chest of the closest walker. It stumbled backwards, but then continued its advance. He let Beth go to reload his crossbow, but grabbed her again before she could get away.

'You try,' he snapped, shoving the end of the crossbow into her chest, just below her collarbone. He grabbed her hands and put them on the trigger.

'I can't – I don't,' she stuttered.

Daryl pulled the trigger over her hands, forcing her palms into the hard metal of the trigger. It hit the walker in the head. It fell down hard and the second one stumbled over it.

'There y'go!' he yelled, shoving her away from him. She stumbled to the side, clutching her hand, tears pricking at her eyes, 'next one!' he yelled, grabbing her wrist.

'Daryl stop!' she yelled, trying to pull away, but his grip was too firm.

'Nah, you wanted t' come!' he shouted, 'you followed me 'ere! I told ya not to come!'

'I just wanted to be with you!' she yelled, still struggling to free herself from his grip, 'I didn't realise you were gonna be such a jerk about it!'

'Then why'd ya follow me!' he shouted, 'this is who I am! You knew that, girl,'

Beth stared at him, her blue eyes wet and sparkling with tears.

'Y'knew that,' he said, softer now. He let go of her arm at last, turning to fire his bolts into the last two walkers.

Beth watched him in silence, clutching her arm to her chest, trying to rub away the throbbing pain that had replaced his hand on her wrist.

As he bent down to pull his bolt from the final walker, Beth watched him chuck the crossbow to the floor. He stood with his back to her, his head hung, his hands empty at his side. Slowly, Beth walked over to him.

'Daryl,' she said softly, her voice strained. She knew he was volatile, but she wasn't frightened of him. She should have been, she reasoned, her wrist was already beginning to bruise, but instead her heart felt heavy.

She walked up to him and gently placed her hands on his arms. She felt him bulk at her touch, but she didn't move.

'What's going on?' she asked.

Daryl just shook his head.

'Daryl,' she said again, trying to see into his face, 'come on. Talk to me,'

'M'sorry,' he murmured.

'It's okay,' she said, 'let me help.'

'You can't,' he said, his voice sharp with anguish. He stepped away from her, shaking his head.

'Try me,' Beth said.

'How?' Daryl turned to look at her, 'you're jus'... jus' a kid.'

Beth looked at him, her face serious.

'Does that matter, any more?' she asked, 'really? Carl's a kid, but I'd put my life in his hands.'

Daryl shook his head.

'Y'don't get it,' he said.

'I'm eighteen,' Beth said, 'I'm not a child. And even if I were, this world forces people to grow up pretty quick.'

'Eighteen,' Daryl said, looking at her, feeling the way his tongue formed the word. Eighteen. Then he shook his head and turned away from her.

'Please, Daryl,' she said, approaching him again, 'please tell me what's wrong.'

'Jus' leave it!' he yelled, turned around. She was closer than he thought she would be, and as he turned his hand connected with her face. The full force of it caught her off guard, knocking her backwards. She fell, into the mud below with a dull thud, the fall taking her breath away.

She looked up at the older man before her, standing above her, his breathing heavy.

Beth blinked.

Had he meant to push her? To hurt her?

Daryl ran his hands over his face, through his hair.

'Jus' go,' he said, turning away from her.

Fighting back tears, Beth picked herself up from the mud, wiping off the back of her jeans as best she could, and walked away.

. . .

Maggie knew the sound of Beth crying; she had heard it plenty of times before. Either way, it still sent tendrils of fear through her, especially now Beth was older and more mature. Why was she crying? Maggie didn't intend on waiting around to find out.

She knocked gently on the door-frame to her sister's room. Beth, who had been laying face down on her bed, her head resting on her folded arms, quickly sat up and turned around, looking at her sister with wide, red eyes.

'Hey, hey, what's happened?' Maggie said, coming into the room, sitting on the bed, and taking her little sister into her arms.

Beth laid her head on Maggie's chest and sniffed, letting the last of her tears run their course.

During this time, Maggie spotted her arm. A light red bruise was forming over her forearm, suspiciously in the shape of fingers.

'Hey,' Maggie said, her tone much more serious now. She took Beth gently by the shoulders and pushed her back to look into her blotchy face, 'did someone hurt you?' she took Beth's arm gently, avoiding the bruised area, 'did someone do this to you?'

Beth shook her head furiously.

'It's nothing Maggie,' she said, 'honest.'

'No,' Maggie said, her face darkening, 'this is a hand mark, Beth.'

'It was a walker,' Beth said quickly, thinking on her feet, 'I went outside and it grabbed me-'

'You what?' Maggie asked, her tone changing from concern to anger.

'I tried to follow Daryl,' Beth said, looking away from her sister's scrutinizing gaze.

'Beth,' Maggie scolded, 'don't you do that! Don't you ever do that again!'

Beth shook her head as a fresh batch of tears overwhelmed her. Thankfully, Maggie allowed her to cry into her chest, remaining silent, but stroking her sisters back in support.

. . .

Daryl stalked back into the prison, ashamed and feeling like dirt. He ignored anyone who called to him or spoke to him. He headed to Carol.

She was the only person he could think of talking to right now, and he had to talk to someone, or his head would explode.

He found her in the upstairs area of the common room, washing out clothes.

'Hey,' she said, seeing him. Then she frowned. Carol could read his mood better than anyone. 'What's up?' she said.

Daryl wandered into one of the cells a little away from her, sitting down. He sat with his head hung low.

'Wanna talk about it?' Carol asked, walking over to him.

'I messed up,' he said.

Carol, not one to jump to assumptions, waited for him to explain. When he didn't, she asked, 'how?'

'Beth,' he sighed, running a hand over his face.

Carol was surprised; she had no way of putting the two of them together in a scenario in which Daryl could mess up.

'Beth?' she asked softly, watching his face.

'I hurt her,' Daryl said, not looking up. 'I knocked her down.'

'What?' Carol came to sit beside him, 'how? When?'

'Today,' he sighed, 'I wen' out to hunt, she followed me, I hit her.'

'Why?' Carol asked.

'I – I didn' wan' her there.'

Carol looked at him, at the surly man who had become one of her closest friends. He was antisocial and could be rude, but he wasn't a bad person. Why would he hurt a young girl?

'You couldn't have just asked her to leave?' Carol asked quietly.

Daryl turned to look at her at last, and Carol could see the pain in his eyes.

'She got in my head,' he said, jabbing at his temple with his fingers, 'under my skin,' he shook his head, angry, 'I don't understand.'

'I'm not sure I do, either,' Carol said slowly, frowning.

'She stitched me up,' he said, gesturing to his side, to which Carol nodded, 'and we got to talkin'. I said I'd show her how t'hunt, t'fight, same as I did with you.'

'That isn't a bad thing,' Carol said, watching him closely.

'Bu' then when I'm around her, it's like I aint thinkin' straight, and Merle, he's here, and he's got me all riled up.'

Carol sighed, resting her chin in her hand.

'He's no good for you,' she said, 'he's your brother, but he doesn't do you any good.'

Daryl shook his head, and shrugged.

'And Beth, well, she's pretty, she's kind,' Carol said, 'you don't know how to act around her. It's understandable.'

'Nah,' Daryl sighed, 'I dunna, I can't do this makin' friends thing.'

'Sure you can,' Carol chuckled, nudging him gently with her shoulder, 'but if you want her friendship, you'll have to apologise.'

Daryl looked at her, his eyes narrowed, the side of his cheek wedged between his teeth.

'Do you want her friendship?' Carol asked, her gray eyes surveying his face.

'I don't know,' Daryl said, sighing.

And he really didn't know. He liked the girl, liked being around her. She was refreshing, in a way, her positivity, her honesty, her openness. She showed him something he had never seen before, acted in ways he wasn't used to. She was a good person, and he hadn't thought they existed any more, not in this world. But Beth was there, like a shining ray of light in the darkness of the prison, her soft voice singing when there should have been no sounds other than anguish and pain. Could they be friends? Did he want to be friends?

He swallowed, feeling his chest constrict. He did. And maybe, his brain interrupted, maybe something more, but that wasn't something he was used to, something he understood, so he pushed it aside.

Right now, he needed to find the girl, and apologise.