Beth was sure she must have enjoyed showering before the fall, but she honestly felt like she had never relished nor appreciated one as much as she did right now; she stood within the cold cubicle within the large, empty prison shower room, her spoiled and bloodied clothes discarded on the bench outside, gently rotating her small body to allow the hot water to cover every inch of her. She was eternally grateful to the prison's back up generator and it's ability to keep them in the modern age of electricity; the small amount of time she had spent out on the road before they took the prison had been difficult, but imaging how things might have turned out today without the shower to go back to had her shivering with horror. She watched as the blood and dirt pooled around her feet and ran away down the drain, washing away the revulsion from what had taken place in that goddamn pharmacy, an all too near brush with death.

Her whole body felt sore and tender, covered in cuts that ran crimson down her pale body with the water and bruises that were tender to the touch as she washed, but she was aware that not all of the pain was a result of her near experience with the walkers. She had slept with Daryl again, and on a floor. Her cheeks flushed as she ran her fingertips gently over carpet burns on her elbows, a reminder to her complete lack of self control. Her hips were bruised and she felt sore and a little battered between her thighs; they had not been soft nor gentle, and at the time Beth had been all for that, but now she felt like she would pay for it. She was unsure whether she regretted their quick encounter, the emotions swirling around within her head in a similar fashion to the dirt that swirled around her feet. Being with Daryl would never be a mistake, she had known and decided that after their first time, but this afternoon was different. It was little more than life-affirming sex, the both of them overcome in a deep need to feel alive and safe after so much death and destruction had lunged at them, almost dragging them down into the darkness, so they had so desperately needed to find the light in one another and the avowal of life it swore. Beth was happy to provide that to Daryl because she needed to take it just as badly, but once it was over, she felt somewhat empty.

Exhausted and worn, she found herself lying naked in the dusty old carpet of a house she would never see again, feeling suddenly cold from the lack of intimacy. Daryl had held her hand the whole way back to the truck and she knew he would never use or hurt her, but she was left yearning for more physical contact. It was like having a warm blanket suddenly snatched away from you, leaving you feeling empty and colder than you even had before, with nothing left but the burning desire to get it back and wrap yourself in it.

As Beth washed away the caked on blood and grime she also washed away the sticky residue from her thighs that stuck there as a reminder of her own spur of the moment stupidity – they hadn't used protection. It was fine, Beth was sure, as she tilted her head up to the stream of water and let it run down over her face, it was only that once and she would be more careful next time, and it wasn't like either of them were busy sleeping around. Hindsight was a wonderful thing, but it did little for her now, only adding to the queasy feeling of unease that had already settled in her stomach.

Beth ran her fingers through her tangled hair, grimacing every time she came in to contact with anything that wasn't supposed to be in there. She thought she would need to be in the jet of water for a good few hours until she felt clean again; thankfully someone had thought to pick up supplies to wash with, which she was grateful for as she lathered the suds over her body now, relishing the sweet smell of fruity fragrance that reached her nostrils, working to block out the smell of death and decay.

Her wrist was stinging beneath the water, so she inspected it; it was quite good, she thought. Daryl had done a good job.

He could have been anything he wanted to be she thought softly, watching as the water ran down over the still red area of her arm.

She felt a rush of love for him then. For someone who had almost frightened her when she had first seen him, someone she had actively avoided, working to give him as wide a berth as she could whenever he entered the room, someone so surly and outwardly hostile - Beth was now completely soft for him. She had done a complete 180 and she now often found herself beaming just at the thought of him, his soft blue eyes, his reluctant and unsure smile, the way his muscles moved beneath the fabric of his shirts, the particular, leathery smell of his vest.

She shut her eyes against the soft flow of water, letting it run its trail down her face, and imagined the warmth it generated against her body was coming from Daryl instead. She imagined the scratch of his beard against her neck, brushing over the tops of her shoulder as his warm, soft lips left kisses behind. His strong arms snaking around her waist and pulling her into him, holding her close as the water poured over them both, connecting them and cocooning them within its warm embrace. His chest hard and firm behind her, the Daryl in Beth's mind leant into her ear, his breath a warm caress against her bruised skin, forcing her to shiver despite the warmth of the water, and whispered:

I love you.

Beth opened her eyes, breathing hard; She had known it now for some time but had never really acknowledged it, but she had fallen in love with Daryl Dixon and her imagination only served to prove to her that she hoped he had fallen in love with her, too.

. . .

'Y'get all the blood off?'

Beth looked up from her bed where she had been sitting cross-legged, towel drying her now clean hair.

'I think so,' she said, smiling up at Daryl as he stood in the doorway.

'I think half of it was mine' he said, pulling up his shirt to reveal a deep gash that ran all down his side.

'Oh my gosh,' Beth jumped up, panic seering through her. She went to him and leant down to inspect the wound, her heart thumping wildly.

'Were you bitten?' She asked. She tried her hardest to keep her breath steady and calm, but it shook and struggled to get out past the lump in her throat.

'Nah,' Daryl shook his head, 'Just fell into one o' the shelves on th' way down with that damn thing on top 'o me.'

Beth nodded as she straightened up, steadying her heart. He wasn't bitten. Daryl's face seemed amused as he looked at her, her unfounded panic apparently funny to him.

'I didn't notice it-' Beth said, trailing off a little. He would know when she meant. He shook his head.

'Too much other crap, wasn't til I realised it was hurtin' like a fucker I looked properly,' he said, 'think y'distracted me from the pain.'

Beth blushed, twirling one wet strand of hair around her finger.

'Can y'patch me up, doctor?' Daryl asked in a low drawl, tilting his head lightly as he looked at her.

Beth smiled.

'I guess so. But I think you should shower first.'

'Y'don't wanna get too close t'me?' he chuckled.

'Not really no,' Beth teased, but then she smiled and said 'no. You should just check to make sure there's nothing else needs looking at, and clean the wound.'

'Fine,' he sighed, running a hand through his slick hair.

'And you do look awful,' she added, wrinkling her nose.

'Hear, hear.' Carol said as she walked past the cell door with Judith.

Daryl scowled darkly as Beth laughed.

'Come find me in the infirmary after, okay?' she laughed.

. . .

Beth was sat herself on the infirmary bed, swinging her legs from the side, when Daryl came in. His own hair was wet and pushed back, which took Beth a little by surprise, but she did not have time to register it for her eyes dropped to his face instantly; he looked paler than usual, a sickly white beneath the year round tan that gave him a clammy complexion beneath the greying whiskers.

Beth jumped up from the bed and helped him over to it, where he sat down with a groan. She noticed fresh blood seeping through the fabric of the clean t-shirt he had pulled on.

'Does it hurt bad?' she asked timidly.

'Yuh,' he said, his face scrunched.

Beth gingerly pulled up his shirt to see the wound, slowing peeling the fabric away from the sticky residue of the fresh blood, realising then what had happened.

'You've split open your previous wound' she said with a sigh, 'the skin must have been tender and broke easily.'

'Y'did a shitty job of fixin' me up last time,' he groaned.

'I'll leave you to bleed out.' She warned.

'Sorry, just sew it back together, I'm supposed to be leavin',' he groaned.

'Today?' Beth frowned, beginning to move around to collect her supplies.

Daryl shook his head.

'Tomorrow, th' next latest.'

Beth sighed. It was stupid to hope he might have changed his mind on that.

'Keep still,' she told him, beginning to sew his hot skin back together over the new blood, drawing the broken skin together and patting it down with a cloth to keep it as dry as she could as she went.

Daryl was a surprisingly good patient; he did not make a fuss, instead bore it all through gritted teeth with only the occasional grunt of pain.

When she was done, Beth discarded the supplies and came to stand before him again, gently stroking his clammy cheek, running the pad of her thumb down over the stubble of his jaw.

'Okay?' she asked tentatively, looking in to his eyes.

He nodded, leaning into her hand and closing his eyes.

'This is how we met,' Beth said softly, 'properly, I mean.'

'How romantic,' he grunted, his eyes still shut.

Beth chuckled, shaking her head at him.

'S'that why ya did such a bad job, so I'd have t'come back one day?' he said through half a grin.

'Hey, you came back on your own accord,' Beth said, lightly tapping his cheek.

Daryl opened his eyes to look at her, they were soft with tiredness but tender for her all the same, and Beth felt herself melting. She saw the vulnerability in his eyes that see had never seen before, and she prided herself on the fact that it was she who had helped to break down some of his barriers, or had at least been allowed through them.

She stroked her hand across his skin, feeling the brittle whiskers of his cheek, the rough texture of skin not well looked after, the light bruises under his eyes, the subtle wrinkles that trailed out from them as he watched her. He was so close to her as she stood before him she could feel his warm breath on her face. His legs were parted as he sat on the bed, his body lightly slumped in weariness, his head lilted towards her hand. He blinked slow and softly, his dark lashes fluttering lightly with the movement.

'I think you're the most beautiful man I have ever seen,' Beth found herself saying, her voice almost an ushered whisper.

'How bad did y'hit yer head?' Daryl replied, but his voice too was quiet and soft. Then he placed his strong hands on her hips and pulled her towards him, her hips bucking in his direction with the unexpected movement. She stood planted firmly between his legs, her lower stomach only inches away from his crotch, and Beth felt the heat rise in her at this realisation. She swallowed, her attention drawn to the hot expanse of skin in which his fingertips were now softly kneading at her hips.

He was watching her with such an avid intensity Beth felt the need to look away; she ducked her head down, her eyelids blinking down as she looked down at her own feet, trying to prevent her unwitting gaze from landing at the intersection between his muscular thighs. It took all of her best efforts.

As she ducked her head, Daryl moved his own, tilting it until Beth was forced to look back into his eyes. He smiled at her, the smile forcing out the wrinkles of his eyes and Beth's breath caught in her throat.

He leant in to kiss her and it took Beth seconds to make the decision to close the gap between them. Their lips connected and Beth felt her entire body give way, melting into his touch, pushing herself closer to him, her hands tangling in his still wet hair, her small chest pressing against his hot, firm chest. He kissed her softly and lightly and with such slow, passionate tenderness that Beth felt her own crotch grow hot. Her breath came in laboured gasps as he parted her lips, biting down on her lower lip and drawing it into his own mouth to lightly suck upon. It produced an uncomfortable dampness between her thighs and her heart rate soared, seeming to attempt to beat in her throat. Daryl realised her lip and flicked his eyes up to look at her for a moment, offering her the most sultry smile she had ever seen, before recapturing them and pushing his tongue into her mouth. She returned the favour and kissed him back, the kiss deepening and growing with fervour until they began to move their bodies against one another, Beth unknowingly squeezing her thighs together to try to release some of the tension that was building there.

Footsteps in the distance finally forced them apart, as they looked at each other through flushed and heavily lidded faces, their lips redder and swollen, their breaths coming in rapid succession.

Daryl leant back from her and swallowed, dragging his own bottom lip in against his teeth.

'Y'should get some sleep,' he said softly, his voice gravelly and deep. It did nothing to quell the fire that was burning within her.

'Mm,' she nodded, blinking slowly, unable to quite control her breathing.

'Come on,' Daryl said. He moved himself from her, untangling his legs from around her, and let her slowly help him down. They met Tyreese in the corridor, who greeted them nonchalantly on his way into the infirmary to get some pain killers. Beth secretly hated him for disturbing her as the fire Daryl had started within her burned low in the pit of her stomach.

. . .

Beth felt like she could sleep for a week; it wasn't just the physical energy of escaping their predicament that had worn her down, but the mental exertion it had required. She had spent a little under an hour with her family after having showered and patched Daryl up, filling them in on the events and reassuring them she was okay. Both Hershel and Maggie were proud of how she had acted but they both insisted she stay within the relative safety of the prison walls, at least for a while. She had agreed, if only because she was so tired she didn't think she would be able to get herself up out of bed any time soon let alone out into the open.

She snuggled up into her bed before it was even fully dark outside, her sore and tired head hitting the pillow and her swollen, red eyes dragging their-selves shut, her arms snaking beneath the pillow to feel the scratchy fabric of the poncho. She fell into a deep sleep, but it was not an easy one. Walkers converged on her from every darkened crevice of her sleeping mind, their limp and hanging jaws open and desperate for her. Occasionally one would explode, covering her with fluids and flesh. Several times in the night she woke up in a start, sitting up in bed, her hands flying to either her mouth or her chest in a panic. Her blue eyes would dart around the small cell block before her heart calmed down, deep breaths steadying her and reminding her she was okay.

When she finally awoke fully, it was mid-morning, and she could hear movement within the prison. Beth rolled over onto her back to blink up at the ceiling, gathering the strength needed to pull herself out of bed. She still felt incredibly tired and her muscles were stiff and sore but her broken sleep had left her feeling too restless to lay and leave them to heal. Laying in the now lit room, breathing softly, her body covered by the blankets, was enough to keep her feeling calm, but her mind felt too wired to sleep. Eventually, once she felt grounded and certain she was in no imminent danger, she dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her clothes, feeling like she needed to be out in the open to clear her mind, the cold air breathing away her residue worry.

Beth walked down the slight decline of sloping, somewhat overgrown grass towards the main fence where she could see Daryl. She drew her poncho tighter around her as she walked, tugging it to her waist. The sky was blindingly blue with nothing more than the odd wispy clouds but it was cold out still, even though Spring was slowly starting to drag itself to the surface – Beth looked forward to that; Winter didn't last long and it wasn't harsh in Georgia, but she still missed the heat. Her boots crunched down over the grass as she walked, the sounds of groans coming from the dead throats of the walkers reaching her over the soft breeze.

'Hey!' she called as she approached Daryl.

Pulling his knife out from between the eyes of a slumping walker Daryl turned to look at her, specks of blood splattered over his face. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and jerked his chin in a nod to her.

'Should you be exerting yourself like this?' Beth asked as she came to stop.

'Prob'ly not,' he shrugged, 'y'come t'tell me to stop?'

Beth shook her head, offering him a half smile he was so familiar with. She knew he wouldn't have listened to her anyway.

'Need any help?' she asked.

Daryl looked her up and down as a walker grazed the tip of its fingers over his shoulder from behind. He nodded.

Beth came beside him, drawing her knife out from beneath the poncho. The walkers growled at her as they diverted their attention to her, their sunken and hollow eyes roaming towards her with eager hunger. They gnashed their jaws at her, mouths full of rotten teeth and swollen tongues, some that lolled down out of broken jaws and toothless mouths, others that had found their self lodged in their throats, giving the walker a bloated, constricted look of bulging eyes and swollen throats.

'Couldn't sleep neither?' Daryl asked from beside her.

'Not really, no,' Beth shook her head, glancing over at the man, 'you can't sleep?'

Daryl shook his head.

'Lucky t'get a couple'o hours a night now,' he admitted.

'Do you get nightmares?' Beth asked.

'Sometimes,' he shrugged, 'too wired, can't shut down, shut 'em out.'

Beth looked at him, her heart heavy. He was so strong and so certain, everyone unwittingly turned to him for support and safety, but who kept him feeling safe? There was so much pain under the surface, so much hurt and fear he kept to himself. A walker's hand grazed her cheek as she had her face turned to Daryl, like an annoying child reminding her it was still there and needed attention.

Beth had gotten used to the sight of the walkers by now; she had never been a squeamish person, training to become a vet had prevented that, but some of the things she had seen in this new life did churn her stomach - but the general outward appearance no longer shocked her.

It was, however, she thought as she lunged her knife into the temple of the demanding walker, the smell that still offended her. It was everywhere now, in the breeze, in the ground, in their clothes, their hair, implicit in every aspect of their everyday lives – the underlying stench of death and decay.

It waved over Beth as she pulled her knife back towards her, stepping back a little with the force it pushed back at her with. She shook the loose tendrils of her hair back from her face and moved on to the new walker, its long arm sticking through the fence towards her, its bone jutting out through the decaying flesh.

Beth grabbed its arm just below the elbow just above the exposed bone and pulled it aside so she could reach the head, giving herself a clear shot to its temple, where she plunged her knife in again, the soft, rotting flesh caving in beneath the force of her knife and sinking deep down to the bone which Beth felt give and crack beneath her hand. She tore it back out, watching the blood and fluid leak from the hole before it fell to the floor in a heap.

'We're gon' have to move these and burn 'em,' Daryl said, stepping back from the nearest walker to readjust his grip on his knife; he spun it expertly around in his leather gloved hand and caught it in his exposed fingers before lunging forward and plunging it back into the face of it.

Beth nodded, ducking out of the way of an approaching hand, the tips of the fingers worn down to the bone. She stepped a little further aside to stop a walker that was trying to get around its fallen brethren, a low guttural growl aimed at Beth through its snapping teeth.

As Beth leant towards it, her knife ready, Daryl moved in too, his arm bumping into hers as their hands brushed one another. Beth felt the electricity charge through her as their skin brushed; she jumped back as if burnt, her eyes leaping to his. He was looking at her too, and Beth believed he had felt it too. She took a deep breath as her heart sped up.

Whilst preoccupied in her sudden emotional turmoil and the heat of her still unaccustomed to lust, another walker managed to get around and grab the edge of Beth's poncho, its fingers snagging in the fabric and tugging it towards her. Beth tore it out of its grip with an angry cry and stepped back from it, breathing a little heavier at the physical effort.

'Take it off,' Daryl said.

'Huh?' Beth looked at him.

'The poncho,' he said, 'they grab it they can pull y'towards 'em. S'a danger.'

Beth hadn't fully processed what he had said before he had stepped towards her and grabbed the hem of her poncho, tearing it off over her head in one swoop. Beth was left a little breathless as the heat of the fabric suddenly lifted from her and tore before her face, leaving her suddenly feeling exposed and naked as she stood in nothing more than a thin t-shirt, her chest heaving lightly.

She stared at Daryl as he discarded the poncho on the ground beside them, then returned his blue eyes to her face. His face was speckled with blood and the collar of the dark checked shirt was ripped. His eyes connected to hers and it looked as though he had been about to say something, but the words died on his lips as Beth saw his tongue swiftly sweep over his lower lip to moisten them. She could see the tendons on his neck stand out against the light sheen of sweat as he swallowed. Beth could feel the tendrils of heat creeping up her body, trickling up her neck and seeping over into her face until her cheeks began to flush. Her breath sped up in order to keep up with her newly contracting heart rate as she watched Daryl's face, her eyes slowly roaming down to his lips, slightly parted, then down his throat to his chest, seeing the way the fabric lay over muscles in his chest. If she stood any longer she would not be able to stand it, but he could not pull herself away from him. Tension radiated from them, seeming to waver in-between their bodies, rolling back and forth from one another like heated strokes, inwardly drawing them together.

A loud yet low groan of warning broke the trance that seemed to have captured them and drew both of their eyes to the walker who was so desperately trying to get through to them. Daryl went to take care of it, a little distracted Beth thought. She watched as he stabbed through the bars to it, grunting a little. He turned back to look at Beth, seeing she was still watching him. She was still breathing heavily.

Daryl looked her up and down again.

'Come 'ere.' Daryl said, picking up the crossbow he had left a little behind them. Beth watched as he picked it up and aimed it, looking down it. He nodded Beth over, so she slowly wandered towards him. Daryl held out a hand which Beth gingerly took, allowing him to pull her towards him, pulling her against his chest. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, Daryl's close proximity and touch doing nothing to prevent the burning embers he had lit last night from flaring up, burning up from the pit of her stomach into her chest, the flames of desire licking at her heart that was beating so hard she was afraid it might break through her ribcage and break free.

She was certain Daryl could feel it as he held her against him, holding the crossbow up in front of her. Beth's mind lazily travelled back through the fog to the first time Daryl had tried to teach her how to hunt, the feel of his body against her own, the way he had dropped his hand from her as if it had seared him, storming away from her.

Daryl helped her aim towards to walkers who had kindly lined up for her. With his help, Beth released the trigger, watching as the bolt flew from the crossbow and hit the target directly between the eyes.

'Yes!' She squealed, jumping away from Daryl. She rose her hand for him to hit. After an amused moment, Daryl raised his own and slapped it against hers in a high-five. Beth linked her fingers through his in the air and swung their hands together, pulling him close to her so their chests were touching.

'That was good,' Daryl grunted, grinning at her.

'Thanks.' Beth breathed.

'Still reckon you ain't gon' need me soon?' Daryl asked tentatively.

Beth shook her head lightly, her eyes still on him.

'I'm always going to need you,' she said.

'I don't think so,' Daryl shook his head, 'yer proving yer strength more an' more each day.'

'Maybe so,' Beth shrugged, gently lifting his hand and lightly kissing the back of it, 'but I'm always going to want you.'

Daryl smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as they softened.

'Yeah.' He said softly.

Beth watched him for a while, biting her lower lip.

'Are you still going after the Governor?' She asked softly.

Daryl nodded.

'Soon,' he said.

'Can we go out some place before you go?' Beth asked.

'I don't think so,' Daryl frowned, 'there ain't no need t'.'

Beth tilted her head as she looked at him.

'I can think of a need,' she said softly, her lips curling up into a sly smile.

She watched with unashamed amusement as a heated blush began to appear at his cheeks. She chuckled lightly and looked down as Daryl swallowed.

'Maybe you could come by my bunk tonight?' Beth said quietly, glancing up through her lashes.

Daryl bit his lip.

'Nah,' he shook his head softly, taking his hand from Beth's to push her hair back, 'that ain't safe girl, it's risky.'

'Does it matter?' Beth whispered.

'Mm,' Daryl nodded. 'Come on, walker's ain't gon impale theirselves.'

Disappointed, Beth nodded, smiling at him. He was so hot and perfect she wanted to wrap herself up in him and drown, but she made do with being near to him, even if it did leave an insatiable desire within her that she could do nothing to quell.