The wrath of Maggie came down on Beth like a ton of bricks, burying her in a suffocating sarcophagus of shame. She was waiting for them at the gates and made a beeline to her little sister the second she saw her; her dark hair flapping around her face as she headed towards her, her eyes dark. Beth took an involuntary step back.

'Where the hell have you been!' she cried, coming to a grinding halt in front of Beth.

'Do you realise how stupid you've been! You could'a got yourself killed, Beth! Damn near gave Daddy a heart attack!' she said before Beth could respond.

'Are you hurt?' she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and breathing heavily.

'I – no,' Beth shook her head, 'I mean, I think I sprained my arm and maybe my back, but I'm okay-'

'We gotta go see Daddy,' Maggie said.

Beth looked at her sister, biting her lip. She knew there was no way Maggie would allow her to get away with this, and she knew her father was probably just as worried about her, so she was forced to swallow her pride and agree. She glanced around at Daryl, who shrugged one shoulder at her. Sighing, she followed her sister.

. . .

Hershel played the disappointed card, so between him and Maggie, Beth was left feeling pretty wretched. She tried explaining their reasoning for heading out and offered him the supplies she had picked up, but he maintained that she was too young to make those decisions alone, too inexperienced. The whole thing left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She spent the rest of the evening alone in her cell room, a blanket hung up over the doorway to deter anyone from disturbing her. She lay in the darkness of her room, a mixture of guilt and resentment washing over her in equally as difficult turns.

She eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, punctuated by dreams of walkers heading her way, emerging at her from the darkened doorway of an abandoned house, sneaking up on her.

When she woke in the morning, her body was laced with a cold sweat that clung to her clothing, sticking the fabric of her top to her back. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, pushing back her hair in the process, looking up to see the blanket she had hung over the door had fallen in the night. It now lay pooled on the hard ground. Sighing, she swung herself out of bed and pulled on her boots.

Things had gone well for them yesterday. They had fought off the walkers and gotten away fairly unscathed, but as Beth stretched out her arm, she felt the searing pain of a torn muscle remind her just how close it had been. In the cold reality of morning, her anger abated, Beth could understand her father's reluctance to letting her out alone. Stretching out her arm and her back, Beth left the sanctity of her room and headed into the main area of the prison, seeking out one person in particular.

She found him in the canteen, sitting alone at one of the tables.

'Daryl.' She said, approaching him. She sat down opposite him.

He looked up at her.

'I need you to teach me how to fight.' She said.

Daryl cocked his head at her.

'I can't rely on everyone else all the time,' she said, 'and I can't live out my life inside, I need to be able to defend myself. My Daddy thought so before, and so did you.'

'So wha',' Daryl cleared his throat, 'y'wanna do some trainin' or somethin'?'

'Yes,' Beth smiled, 'I have my knife. Show me how to use it. Close combat.'

'Y'don't wanna be in close combat.' Daryl said.

'No, but that doesn't mean I won't ever be. I was yesterday. I need to be more prepared.'

'Nah,' Daryl said, looking her up and down, 'y'wanna listen to yer dad and stay inside.'

'That isn't realistic.' Beth said.

Daryl looked at her for a while, then nodded slowly.

'A'right,' he shrugged, 'I guess I ain't got nothin' better to do.'

'That's the spirit.' Beth beamed.

. . .

Daryl followed her out onto the prison grounds to a patch of grass far away enough from anything else. It was a bright day, the sky was bleached of any colour and the whiteness only added to the glare of the day. A soft breeze rustled the grass beneath Beth's boots, reminding her of her home from before and the lush ground that surrounded it. So many of her summers had been spent lying down in that grass, lazily watching the clouds drift by up above.

So stopped and turned to face Daryl. There was nothing lazy or idle about life now, she thought, as she pulled her knife from her holster. She couldn't lay on the grass and let the world pass by any more. It was time to fight.

'A'right,' Daryl said, standing in front of her, 'y'wanna make yer body as small as possible. Less space t' get hit. Bring y'shoulders in, down, an' duck y'head.'

Beth nodded, readjusting her body as Daryl told her. He stepped towards her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He applied pressure until she lowered it more, leaving a warm tingle where his hand touched her back.

'Better,' he nodded, stepping back. 'Hold ou' y'knife – not all th' way – 'bout 45 degree angle.'

Beth held out the knife, watching him as she did so.

'Y'keep your body behind th' knife. Guard y'self with y'other arm. Ya wanna keep on the balls of y'feet, don't just stand, move all th' time, the knife is more t'block and single attack, a'right? It's a distraction – it ain't a sword.'

'Is this useful against walkers?' Beth said, straightening up, 'they're not going to have knives.'

'You ain't always only gonna be against walkers. There's some real bastards out there that'll be gunnin' fo' a pretty girl like you.' Daryl looked seriously into her face. Beth swallowed and nodded.

'Always aim to disarm.' He said, stepping back from her and dropping into his own stance.

'You're not going to use your knife?' Beth asked.

'Nah,' Daryl smiled, 'I don' wanna stab ya.'

'But what if I get you?' Beth asked.

Daryl snorted.

'Think we're a'right,' she said, 'c'mon.'

Slowly, Beth nodded, then dropped back into the defensive position he had shown her, mimicking his own body movements. They stayed there for a while, their eyes on one another, then Beth pounced.

Daryl instantly disarmed her, sidestepping her attack and turning his body at a ninety degree angle to her, grabbing her wrist.

Beth cried out as she dropped her knife.

He let go of her arm, looking at her.

'Alright,' she said, shaking her wrist, 'that was my first go. A warm up.'

Daryl nodded, dropping down to pick up her knife. He held it out to her, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Beth took it from him, looking into his eyes with a fierce determination in hers.

. . .

They continued for some time, darting and moving around the area they stood in, parrying against one another. Beth's arm ached from the effort and the previously damaged muscles in her back hurt, but she didn't give up. So far Daryl had managed to disarm her at every opportunity, his own height and weight working to his advantage against her much smaller frame.

She lunged at him again, but he grabbed her attacking arm and spun her around in a sudden movement, knocking the breath from her. He held her against him, her back pressed to his chest, his strong arm holding her flat against his body. Beth's knife fell to the floor as she stood, panting, against him.

'Close,' he whispered in her ear, sending shivers all the way down her spine. She bit her lip, her chest hitching with the gasping breaths she took.

Slowly, Daryl let her go. She turned to look at him.

'You're enjoying this,' she said, looking at his face.

'You asked me t'teach ya.' He shrugged.

'You don't have to be so smug about it,' she said, stepping toward him.

She gently placed her hands on his waist, feeling his own breath hitch at the touch. He looked down at her, his eyes dark.

'No dirty tactics.' He breathed.

There was a definite sexual tension, Beth thought, as she looked up at him, her small hands placed so gently against the cool leather of his vest. She could feel the sinewy muscles of his body beneath the fabric. She smiled up at him, conveying the thoughts which were running through her distracted mind in her smile.

She saw him swallow.

Then, slowly, he reached down and took hold of her wrists, removing her hands from his waist and letting them fall down to her side.

'Get y'knife.' He said.

Beth nodded.

She picked up her knife and then stood up, smoothing her hair back out of her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before walking away to stand and face him.

'What's going on here?' the voice of her father took her by surprise, causing her to spin around.

He was standing, looking between both Beth and Daryl, his eyes narrowed against the sun.

'Daryl's teaching me to fight.' Beth said. She tried to puff out her chest, make herself look taller, stronger, but her voice sounded small.

Her father looked at her beneath his bushy white eyebrows. Then he looked over to Daryl.

'Not planning to run off again are you?' He asked his daughter, his slow, methodical gaze turning back to her.

'No.' Beth said. Her stomach dropped several pegs, her blood ran cold.

To her intense relief, Hershel offered her a smile.

'Alrighty,' he said, 'I'm glad. You need to know how to look after yourself.'

Beth nodded, her breath leaving her in one big rush.

Hershel placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder and nodded to her, patting her gently. Beth felt a rush of love for the man, a man who had every right to be angry and disappointed in her, but was instead showing her love and support.

'Don't go too easy on her,' he said to Daryl with a smile.

Daryl just nodded once.

He squeezed Beth's shoulder.

'Be careful,' he said, his light eyes searching hers, 'I'll be in the plot if y'need me. See you later, then.'

Beth nodded, smiling.

'Thanks, Daddy.'

He smiled back at her.

'You've got off lucky,' Daryl said quietly once Hershel had left them.

Beth nodded, then dropped back into her fighting stance.

. . .

The two of them danced around one another, Beth keeping her knife close to her, watching Daryl's movements. He kept himself low, his arms raised and held into fists. His eyes stayed trained on her, the intensity of his watch causing her skin to tingle, the hairs all across her body to stand on end. She stepped in closer to him, her knife raised and held before her face. Beth stepped to her right, advancing on him, but he blocked her. Beth took a breath, stepping back again, regaining her stance. She locked her eyes on to his, fierce and determined, her lips pulling up into a small smile.

Daryl scanned her face, the smile seeming to catch him off guard. Beth saw her opportunity; she stepped to her right again, watching Daryl step with her to block her. She took her chance, stepping left, her knife dashing out. To her shock and surprise, it made contact.

The blade ran its way across the supple skin of his neck, parallel to his jaw bone. Spots of crimson blood jumped to the surface instantly. Beth dropped the knife at her feet, her hands flying to her mouth. Daryl stepped back, his eyes wide in shock.

'I'm so sorry' Beth cried, rushing towards him. Daryl put his hand to his neck, touching the wound. He brought his hand back down to look at the blood.

'I'm so sorry,' Beth repeated, 'are you okay?'

She stepped closer, gently reaching up to where she had cut him, placing her hands over his. Gently, she took his hands in hers, moving them from his neck. The knife had cut deeply, leaving a thin line of angry exposed flesh through which bright red blood seeped.

'Oh I'm sorry,' Beth said again, feeling wretchedly awful.

'Sto'pologising' Daryl gruffed, putting the palm of his hand back against the cut, 's'fine.'

'It needs stitches.' Beth said.

'Nah s'fine,' Daryl shook his head, grimacing a little as the movement caused pain to sear in the cut.

'No,' Beth said seriously, 'you need stitches. Come on, I'll do it.'

Daryl looked at her, searching her eyes. He sighed as he saw the determination in them.

Beth kept close beside him as they headed back to the prison, glancing sideways at him every now and then as he kept his hand to his neck to stem the blood.

Together they walked into the infirmary where Beth nodded to the bed. Sighing, Daryl sat himself down on it.

Quickly, Beth gathered everything she would need, collecting a small bowl of water. She took them to Daryl and placed them beside him. Gently, she took his hand, moving it from the cut.

'Does it hurt?' she asked softly.

'Bit,' he shrugged.

Beth placed the wet cloth to his neck, feeling him flinch and tense. She held it to his skin until she felt him relax and until the majority of the blood had been soaked up. As she pressed it to the cut, she looked across to his face, her eyes locking with his. He tilted his head slightly to look at her.

'I am sorry I cut you – I never thought I would actually get you.' She said softly.

'S'fine doll,' he smiled, 'guess I taught ya well.'

Beth felt her heart melt and her skin grow hot. Gently, she removed the cloth to inspect the wound.

'I have to-' she gestured to the surgical thread. Daryl nodded.

It took her a little while to thread the needle as her hands had begun to shake. Something about being in such close contact to Daryl had thrown her out of balance, the smile he had given her moments ago, the pet name? Biting her lip, she began to stitch together the skin she had sliced apart, feeling him hold his body tense. She glanced to his face; he had sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes narrowed against the pain. Beth worked as quickly as she could, cleaning up and placing a bandage over the area after.

'There,' she breathed, stepping back. She felt full of a nervous energy.

Daryl flexed his neck slightly, rolling his head. He looked up at Beth, then smiled.

'Thanks,' he said gruffly.

Beth stepped forward softly, stepping in-between his legs as they hung from the bed, her feet in-between his. She placed her hands on the side of his head, gently stroking her thumb across his cheek bone.

He looked up at her, his dark hair falling back from his face. Slowly, he placed his hands on her hips as she stood in front of him, their bodies almost touching. Beth could almost see the tendrils of electricity that bounced between them, flowing between the small gap of their bodies

'We gotta stop-' he breathed, but Beth shook her head, cutting him off.

She leant down to him as he pulled her closer by her hips, her lips gently touching his. He held her close to him, his own lips moulding to her own. Beth felt her eyes flutter shut as his lips moved against hers, soft but surrounded by the rough texture of his beard.

She moved her head back, breathing deeply. Softly, she rested her forehead against his, feeling his eyelashes brush against her skin. She could feel him smiling. She reached up and gently traced the lining of his bottom lip, feeling it hitch up one side as he smiled. She moved her hand to his hair, moving her head back down to kiss him again.

Their lips touched with a more feverish eagerness now, Daryl's finger's digging slightly into the flesh at Beth's hips. The soft, supple skin of their lips had only been connected for a moment, their lips only just beginning to part to further the kiss into something deeper when the sound of a throat being cleared caused them to leap back. Beth's heart jumped into her throat, chilling the blood in her veins to ice.

Daryl stood up, knocking the bowl of discarded cloths and medical equipment to the floor with a loud crash.

'S'okay.' Rick stood in the doorway, his hands held up, palms facing them.

Beth held one hand to her pounding heart, the other to her mouth, the taste of Daryl fresh on it.

'Just wanted to give you this,' he said slowly, reaching down to his holster and taking out Beth's knife.

Beth stayed where she was, her breathing heavy.

'Rick' Daryl said, his voice deep and gruff. Beth heard him clear his throat. The tension in the room was palpable.

Rick, surprisingly, just chuckled and shook his head.

'I didn't see nothin',' he said. He held the knife out still until Beth slowly stepped forward and took it.

Rick looked to Daryl, who had gone an ashy pale.

Rick nodded to him, then winked at Beth before slowly leaving the room.

Beth turned to look at Daryl. Daryl swallowed.

Beth watched his face for a while, gauging the reaction the older man had. His hands were hanging beside his thighs, his thumbs slowly circling the pads of his fingers anxiously. He was pale, his eyes on the floor. Beth could see the clogs of his brain whirring as he thought things over, his hair covering his face. Eventually, as they stood in silence, Beth's heart beat began to subside. Rick had seemed cool about it... Beth took a deep, steadying breath, attempting to rid herself of the light-headedness that had overcome her. A subtle feeling of relief hit her, but it was overshadowed by the feeling of terror that came from the thought of the door that had just been opened.