'Hey,'
Frowning, Beth opened her eyes. She heard Daryl grunt beside her, then felt him push himself up into a sitting position, the mattress groaning beneath the weight shift. Beth propped herself up onto her elbow, rubbing her bleary eyes as she turned her head to see behind her.
'We got a problem.' Michonne was standing in the doorway to the room, the low flickering light of the candle dancing across her features.
Daryl turned himself around, swinging his legs off of the bed as he cleared his throat.
'Was'up?' Daryl grunted.
'A tree has gone into the east side wall,' Michonne said, 'we're going to need your help blocking it back up.'
Daryl stood up and stretched, nodding.
Beth sat up on his bed, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn; it was cold in the room and the sudden loss of Daryl's close body heat only accentuated that.
'Stay here,' he said to Beth, grabbing up his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder.
'I want to help-' she said, going to get up.
'No,' Daryl said seriously, looking down at her.
'We gotta go,' Michonne said.
'I'll be back.' Daryl said.
Sighing, Beth nodded, running her hand down her tired face.
. . .
'So where's th' breach?' Daryl asked Michonne as they headed out of the cell block.
'East side.' Michonne said.
Daryl nodded, hitching up his crossbow.
'So you and Beth,' Michonne said, glancing sideways at the man.
'Jus' keeping her company.' Daryl said, keeping his eyes on the corridor ahead.
. . .
Beth leant her back against the wall, drawing her knees to her chest. The cell block around her was quiet. She tried to take her mind off of the fact their security was under threat as she glanced around the room, but the low ebbing of the candle only served to heighten her anxiety as it created long, dancing shadows in the corners of the room, playing tricks on her mind and imagination.
Beth sat and picked idly at the rough fabric of the blanket she was sitting on, thinking about how only moments earlier she had been sleeping beside Daryl. They were definitely moving and progressing into something much more serious, she didn't think either of them could deny that now. What that meant for them, however, she didn't know. There were traces of him around the small room, the subtle musky smell of him and his leather jacket, an empty cigarette box lying atop a bandanna on the night stand. Beth picked the bandanna up, shaking the box from it. She ran the cold fabric through her fingers for a while, taking comfort in the feel.
The sound of the wind outside was still echoing loudly through the prison, bearing down on Beth as she sat alone in the room, trying to remain calm, remain strong.
Suddenly the candle went out.
Beth looked up into the inky black of the now dark room. She jumped up from the bed and left the cell, heading for the next source of light which spilled out of Carl's room. She walked to the doorway, peering in to see Carl, Zach and Patrick sitting on the bed. They looked up as she came into view, stepping into the light.
Together, they made a space for her to sit, which she gratefully took, happy to be back in the light and in company.
'You hear about the wall?' Zach asked her. He was sitting beside her on the bed.
'Yeah,' Beth nodded.
'I'm under strict orders to stay here.' Carl grumbled, resting his chin moodily in his hands.
'Since when has that stopped you?' Beth asked, turning to look at him.
Carl smiled at her, but he eyes still spoke of the injustice he truly felt he was being served.
'Why don't we do something to pass the time?' Patrick said, leaning forward to see the faces of his fellow room mates.
'Like what?' Zach asked.
'I don't know, like a game,' Patrick shrugged.
'What like spin the bottle?' Zach teased.
'Yeah then we can do each others hair and tell secrets,' Carl said, earning himself a shove from Patrick.
'Go on the Patrick,' Beth said, leaning back against the wall, 'you tell us a secret.'
'I don't have any,' he shrugged.
'He likes to play with lego.' Carl said, earning himself another shove.
The four of them fell into a light, idle chatter, in which Beth was happy to indulge. It was nice, she realised, to be around people her own age, and to chat casually. It almost felt like a high school sleepover, despite the fact that somewhere in the prison flesh eating horrors were trying to get in.
. . .
Daryl and Michonne turned a corner to see Maggie struggling with a walker; it had her pinned against the wall. Her gun lay about a foot from her and she was struggling to get her knife from its holster whilst also keeping the things face away from her.
Daryl raised his crossbow, but the darkness and the movement of the walker prevented him for getting a clear shot. Lowering it, he grabbed his own knife and ran over, plunging it directly into the swollen temple of the rotting corpse. It fell away from Maggie and landed at her feet with a gruesome splashing sound, its remaining clothing rain logged. It was sodden and sections of its flesh were peeling away in strips, clearly from the pressure of the torrent of rain it had waded its way through to get inside.
Panting, Maggie picked up her gun and wiped herself down, the front of her own clothing wet and muddy.
'Damn thing jumped out at me,' she said, tucking her hair behind her ears, 'took me by surprise.' She bent down to inspect it, admiring the way its skin was peeling back from the bone in a morbid curiosity. She pulled the knife from its temple, grimacing as blood and water broke free from the hole. Standing back up, she held the knife out to Daryl.
'Thanks,' she said. Then she looked down at the knife in her hand as Daryl took it from her. Frowning, she looked up at him, looking into his face.
'That's Beth's knife,' she said.
Daryl frowned, glancing down at the knife in his hand.
'Nah,' he said, going to put it away, but Maggie grabbed his wrist and brought it up to her face.
'It is,' she said, looking up into his eyes, 'that's my sister's knife.'
'Picked up th' wrong one then,' Daryl grunted, pulling away from her.
'Is Beth safe?' Maggie asked.
'Course she's safe,' Daryl said after a moment of silence.
'Well she's unarmed,' Maggie folded her arms across her chest.
'She'll have mine,' Daryl said.
Maggie looked at him for a moment, frowning.
'Okay,' she said finally.
Daryl turned to see Michonne looking at him, but no more was said.
. . .
'Do you guys feel safe?' Carl broke a silence that had fallen over the four of them for a few minutes. Beth's eyes had been closing in the silence, but they snapped open as he spoke.
Patrick turned to look at him, frowning.
'I mean, how safe do we really feel right now?' Carl said, looking into each of their faces one by one.
'What are you saying?' Zach asked.
'I think we should go patrol, make sure there are no strays getting anywhere near us here. My baby sister is sleeping only a few rooms up. And your dad, too,' he said, nodding to Beth.
'You're under strict orders.' Beth said sleepily, finishing on a yawn.
Carl shook his head, looking forward into the candle's light.
'Just feel like we should do something.' He said.
There was silence again, until Zach cleared his throat.
'I think you're right.' He said. 'We should just check.'
Carl didn't need any more; he stood up and grabbed his knife and sheriff hat from the table, ignoring the bemused look Zach gave him as he put it on. He jerked his head to the door. Slowly, the rest of them got up, Beth reluctant, but unwilling to be left alone.
The four of them left the cell block as silently as they could, Carl leading the way. Beth kept close to Zach, her eyes darting from doorway to doorway as they went. She wasn't feeling brave tonight; the sound of the storm outside had set her nerves on edge and the darkness wasn't helping. The prison was rarely in the dark thanks to its generator, so she had grown unused to such darkness, leaving her edgy and unsteady in the low light.
Carl led them down the corridor in the direction of the east wing, walking as silently as he could. Another loud, startling howl from outside caused Beth to jump, grabbing hold of Zach's arm as he stood just before her. He turned to look at her, smiling. She pulled her arm away, biting her lip.
'It's alright,' Zach said, draping said arm over her shoulders, 'I don't like storms much neither.'
'Can't even ride out a storm is safety these days,' Beth said back softly, offering him her own smile.
He chuckled lightly, nodding. Beth allowed him to keep his arm across her shoulders as they advanced, secretly drawing strength from the close contact.
They didn't walk into any trouble until they reached the start of the east wing, close to where the canteen was, where a single walker was wandering aimlessly, dragging one lame leg alone behind him. He barely had a chance to spot them before Carl had plunged his knife into its skull.
He pulled the knife out with a satisfied smirk on his face, cleaning off the blood and gore on the front of his pants.
'I think we're okay,' Patrick whispered, looking down at the walker, 'we should head back.' The sight of the walker seemed to have shaken him.
'Yeah,' Beth whispered back, 'this place looks safe enough. The cell block should be fine.'
'I think we should carry on,' Carl said.
'We carry on any further we'll be right where the threat is,' Zach said, 'there are people dealing with that, we only wanted to make sure our cell block was secure. It is.'
'Yeah, we found no signs of anything until we got here,' Patrick agreed, 'we did our job.'
Carl sighed, looking down at the walker by his feet. Beth could see he wanted to carry on, wanted to find his dad and the rest of the team and help clear out any threats.
'Carl,' she said, 'your dad needs you to stay here.'
Carl looked up at her.
'I can help.' He said.
'I know that,' she said, 'and so does your dad. It's not a question of your ability.'
'You should be around Judith,' Zach said.
Carl nudged the walker with his foot.
'Fine,' he sighed, nodding.
'If anything happens, or we hear anything, we come straight back.' Beth said.
Carl nodded to her.
. . .
Rubbing his hands down the front of his shirt, Daryl headed back the way he had come, having checked out his allocated area of the prison. He had found no threats, which was only a good thing, for it meant they had found and blocked off the gap in good time. The walkers that had managed to get through had been rounded up and taken down closer to the wall itself, meaning none had straggled into the outer corridors or rooms. Likely there would be a few, but he had not run in to any himself. He considered heading back and helping out anyone else who may not have been so fortunate, but as he walked, he could not pick up any sounds of danger with his trained ear.
The hole in the wall had been blocked to the best of their ability, but the best they could do now was to block off that section of the prison entirely, until they could clear it more effectively. So long as that held, which Daryl was confident it would, then there was no immediate threat to them.
His mind wandered back to Beth as he walked, to her small, anxious face in the candle light, looking up at him from his bed as he told her to stay put. He knew she was safe, along with everyone else, but she was probably scared. He decided then to check up on her before he would do anything else, reassure her all was well. Maybe get his own knife. Hers was smaller than he was used to.
Daryl reached the cell block a little later, noticing that it seemed darker than when he had left it. All was quiet save a few hushed voices which drifted out into the hallway. He walked to his own room, noticing the engulfing darkness which came from within it. The scent of the burnt out candle was still traceable in the air. Daryl walked into the room, his keen, hunter eyes noticing straight away that is was empty. He swallowed, nodding to himself.
Okay. She got scared alone. He thought.
He left his room and walked to Hershel's, knowing the old man was taking care of baby Judith as Carol was needed with the rest of them. He found Hershel laying on his bed, his eyes closed, his hands folded across his chest. Judith was sleeping soundly in the cot beside the bed. Beth was no where to be seen.
Daryl turned away from the room and stood in the hallway for a minute, thinking. There was no need to worry. He walked past Maggie's room on the way to Beth's, noticing it's emptiness, then stopped at the doorway to Beth's. It was dark and cold, and the bed showed no signs of having ever been slept in.
Panic and anger rising in his chest, Daryl pushed the door-frame, cursing.
Quickly, he strode to Carl's room. A candle still flickered, but all it illuminated was the emptiness of the room it sat in.
'Beth.' He breathed aloud, feeling his heart begin to beat faster.
Turning on his heel, he headed back down the corridor and out of the cell block, a mixture of anger and worry flushing in his cheeks.
Daryl saw Carl before he saw Beth, but he knew instantly she was with him. The four of them stopped where they were as they came up the corridor, having spotted him just meters in front of them. Daryl strode over to them, grabbing Beth's wrist and pulling her away from the group.
'Where y'been?' he hissed.
'I – we went to check - ' she stammered, shocked by his sudden outburst.
'Jesus christ I told ya to stay put!' he said through gritted teeth.
Beth stared at him, her blue eyes wide with shock. Then she yanked her wrist free from his grip.
'Since when do you tell me what to do?' she asked, feeling anger rise in her own chest. She was keenly aware of the eyes of the boys on her.
'We just wanted to make sure the immediate area was safe,' Carl said, stepping forward, 'it's my fault.'
'People are doing that for ya,' Daryl said, rounding on the young boy, 'yer dad told ya to stay.'
'We're sorry,' Zach cut in, glancing at Beth, who was rubbing her wrist. Beth looked down at the floor.
Slowly, Carl, Patrick and Zach walked away, glancing back over at Beth as they did.
Daryl turned to look at her.
'What gives you the right to speak to me like that?' Beth hissed once she thought they were out of ear shot.
'Why do y'always disappear?' Daryl retorted.
'You can't tell me what to do,' she said, 'I'm not a child, Daryl.'
'Nah,' Daryl ran a hand down his face, 'but y'tell me y'care 'bout me, I ask ya t'stay put an' then come back an' yer no where t'be seen.' He looked at Beth, silent for a while. She looked back at him, blinking.
'I panicked.' He admitted.
Slowly, Beth nodded.
'I didn't mean to scare you,' she said softly, 'but you cannot speak to – or grab – me like that.'
'Sorry,' Daryl mumbled, rubbing his neck, 'jus' didn't know where th' fuck ya were.'
Beth cocked her head as she looked at him, a mixture of emotions running through her mind. She was bitterly angry at the way he had grabbed her and lectured her, but she understood that it came from a place of … love? Daryl Dixon cared for her, and that made her feel warm on the inside.
'You don't have much dealing with relationships, do you?' Beth said softly.
Daryl looked down at her, sucking gently at his lower lip.
'Nah,' he mumbled.
'I'm glad you care,' she said, stepping forward and pulling him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his broad waist, 'but you can't just lash out.'
''M new t'all this,' he said gruffly, his arms hanging limply by his side.
Resting her chin on his chest, Beth tilted her head back to look up at his face.
'Me too,' she shrugged, smiling at him, 'but we'll work it out. Together.'
Daryl looked at her, his face a familiar mask of closed off uncertainty. He nodded once, then gently put his arms around her, hugging her back.
Beth buried her face in his chest, breathing him in, grateful to be back in his strong arms. She couldn't stay angry with him, even if his actions had annoyed her. She understood his personality better than he did himself, and she knew his outbursts came from a good place. Beneath the surface of tough anger and resentment was a kind, caring core, and Beth was willing to put in the effort to see more of that, for what she had already witnessed, it was worth every minute.