Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.
This has NOT been edited! It's late and with today being Mother's Day, I didn't get this to Nicole until just a few minutes ago, so she'll have this all fixed up and back to me when she has a chance!
A/N: To all you mom's out there! Happy Mother's day! I hope your Mother's Day has been a great as mine! Raising kids is NO walk in the park, but it's the most rewarding 'job' in the world! So this chapter is for all of you!
...
Daryl had gotten off his shift at the gate later than anticipated. He'd then stopped by Rick's office, only to have Sherry inform him that the ex-sheriff had left to talk with Rosita about regarding some of the horse's health conditions. He'd told her he'd come back later and to let Rick know he needed to speak with him about The Kingdom. Afterwards he'd stopped by the bakery, as promised, and was walking up the steps of his porch with his crossbow in one hand and a brown, paper bag full of freshly baked muffins in the other.
He paused outside of the front door, glaring over his shoulder towards the front gate. There had been something about the stillness of the woods and the calm of the morning that had frazzled his nerves. All week they had been waiting for something to happen. It was like constantly having a finger on the trigger, but not knowing where to take aim. It was mentally exhausting. All he wanted to do now was crash on his bed and sleep the rest of the morning.
Taking the bag and clenching it between his teeth, he turned the knob and pushed open his front door. He could hear Beth in the living and he almost called out to her when his voice caught in his throat. Furrowing his brows, slowly removing the bag from between his teeth, he could distinctly hear Beth humming? His eyes found her sitting on the couch, carefully sharpening her machete, while humming the same few bars over and over again. It wasn't the act itself that had his heart beating so erratically, instead it was the melodic tune coming from her that conjured a vivid memory. He could see her sitting on a bench, playing a piano, while he lay in the 'comfiest bed he'd had in years.'
His crossbow clattered onto tile, the bag of muffins long forgotten, as he took two long strides across the floor to approach her. She was standing when he reached her, alarmed at his sudden movement, and he could feel her breath fan across his cheeks from how rapidly she was respiring.
"How d'you know that song?" His voice came out sounding harsher than he'd intended.
"I…I dunno'," she fumbled, starring up at him warily, "I just…do."
"I ain't got time for games," he clenched his jaw, not backing away from her.
He saw the spark of anger cross her face as she narrowed her eyes and held her ground.
"I'm not playin' any games," she hissed, "What tha' hell is wrong with you all of 'ah sudden?"
"How can you know 'ah fuckin' song and not know where ya' heard it?" He queried cynically.
"I just know it," she threw her hands into the air, "I just started hummin' it one day and have been ever since. I don't even realize I'm doin' it half tha' time."
Daryl felt his heart sink when the answer she gave him was not the one he'd been envisioning. He was well aware that her lack of memory was due to the irreversible damage she'd received, but he thought her being around him might trigger something. It was foolish to hold out for such hope; he honestly hadn't even realized he'd been doing so until he felt the crushing effect of her reply. He'd recognized that the Beth he had known from before was gone, her memories taken with the bullet he'd thought had claimed her life, but that didn't necessary mean she wasn't still his Beth. He'd caught her saying things, doing things, or a certain mannerism that was so distinctly Beth Greene, it hurt. Maybe, somewhere down in her subconscious, she was still there. She just didn't know it.
"If you've got somethin' to say, then just say it," she breathed haughtily, obviously annoyed and confused by the intensity of his stare.
"It's…," he paused, "nothin'."
"But you jus'-"
"It don't matter," he gently interjected; hesitantly reaching out for her before dropping his hand back down to his side.
They stared at each other for a long while before she exhaled, plopped by down on the couch, and rigidly resumed grating the whetstone against her blade. He wasn't really sure what he'd been thinking. Maybe that she'd been playing him this whole time? That she did, in fact, have memories from before, but just didn't want to tell him? Didn't want to continue their relationship from the unknown direction it had been heading? He'd let his own self-conscious fears get the best of him. Anger was easier to grasp onto and direct than uncertainty and apprehension. He knew that Beth wasn't a liar. He was on edge from guard duty and was caught off guard by her murmuring the song he'd heard so often in his dreams that he'd jumped to conclusions.
Quietly striding back towards the doorway, he picked up his crossbow and the muffins, and then turned back to the living room. He gently placed the brown bag on his coffee table, his meager attempt at a peace offering, but Beth's eyes never strayed from her machete. He meandered toward his bedroom, dropping his weapon on the carpet and collapsing onto his bed. The gust of air that surrounded him as he flopped back onto the mattress smelled like her; subtle traces of the mint from the soap Carol had given her and something else that he couldn't quite name.
Things had been going so smoothly the entire week they'd been living together, but with familiarity came the clashing of personalities. He'd been gradually winding himself tighter and tighter from the mounting pressure of their current circumstances. He hadn't been able to leave Alexandria in over a week, something he'd generally do anytime he needed an 'escape.' They still had no idea what had happened to anyone in The Kingdom and then there was everything with Beth and The Whisperers. He'd never been one who handled stress particularly well, always becoming snappy and irritable when he didn't know how to fix something. Then there was Beth. She had none of the demure she'd had before, speaking with a sharper tongue and refusing to back down from whatever problem she faced. She had always been strong-willed; a fighter in her own right, but this Beth was a product of the apocalypse.
There was shuffling from within the living room, followed by quick, discreet footsteps, and then the clatter of his front door being opened and slammed shut. It was apparent she was angry with him, justifiably so, as he replayed the way he had exploded on her while she had absolutely no idea why. Gritting his teeth and throwing an arm over his eyes, he growled, and felt his guilt beginning to consume him.
…
"Da…"
He thought he'd heard someone calling his name.
"Daryl?"
"Huh?" Daryl looked up from where he'd been glaring down at the floor.
"You alright man?" Dwight asked with concern etched on his features, "I called your name like, three times 'fore you answered."
"Yeah," he grumbled, "'M fine."
He hadn't seen Beth since early that morning; then again, he hadn't really been looking for her either. He'd been mulling over the hundreds of different things he thought he should say, but knew none of them would actually articulate from his lips when he was in front of her. He wasn't good with reconciliations. He wasn't good with a lot in regards to the social aspect of life, preferring to let people think whatever they wanted of him, even if it was wrong. He didn't want to do that with Beth. He had to make amends, but he needed to decide on what he was going say when he found her.
"Alright," Dwight gave him a once over before returning to what he had been trying to relay, "There's still radio silence from The Kingdom. By this point, I think it's pretty obvious what happened."
"While I'm inclined t'agree," Rick interjected, "there could still be 'ah perfectly reasonable explanation."
"Like what?" Dwight crossed his arms over his chest, "If the radio broke, they'd of sent 'ah rider. If somethin' had happened, protocol is t'send 'ah rider. Tha' only explanation is that shit went down fast and they didn't have time t'get word out."
Rick took a deep breath.
Daryl knew that the ex-sheriff was hoping this would be something easily explained away, but they all knew better. They knew whatever happened to The Kingdom was bad. Just how bad had yet to be determined.
"When can you leave?" Rick turned to Daryl.
"Few hours," Daryl shrugged, "Gotta' few things t'take care of, grab some supplies, and load up on some extra ammunition. I can be on my way 'fore sunset."
"I don't like him goin' alone," Dwight voiced from across the room, "'Specially with those bastards hangin' out in tha' woods."
"I can handle it," Daryl scoffed at Dwight's sentiments, "Ain't my first rodeo."
"You're a lucky bastard, I'll give ya' that," Dwight smirked, "but there's no tellin' what's waitin' for you when you get there."
"This is just a recon run," Rick stood from behind his desk, "No heroics. You go, you take 'ah look around, and you get the hell outta' there. You see more than 'ah few walkers, you get out of there. You see anything that looks suspicious, you get outta' there."
Dwight seemed appeased by this and nodded.
"And if I come across survivors?" Daryl questioned roughly.
"Find out what happened. Help 'em if you can," Rick ordered, "but you make damn sure that you're able to get back here."
Daryl understood the underlying message. 'No one's life is more important than his own.'
"I'll see what's goin' on and be back in 'ah day or two," Daryl replied with a nod.
"Check in with Sherry before ya' leave," Rick nodded in return.
Leaving the office in the direction of his house, Daryl shoved his hands in his pockets. He was struggling to decide upon one of the five apologies he had created in his head that he would later fumble through with Beth before he left. Dwight was right, he had no idea what was waiting for him at The Kingdom and the last thing he wanted to do was leave things unresolved with Beth.
…
He could hear murmuring behind the half-drawn curtain in the med bay, followed by a feminine laugh that he wholly recognized. Peeking around the drape, he was surprised to find Beth missing from the scene before him.
"Daryl," Carol greeted with a smile.
He flashed his eyes up to hers, but made no effort to draw his lips upwards.
"You getting ready to leave?" She questioned, motioning to the backpack slung over his shoulder.
While Rick was the 'leader' of Alexandria, Daryl being his 'second-in-command,' all of the remaining original members of their group were privy to the information shared in Rick's office that was of any importance. It was a sort of unspoken agreement. They trusted the people they brought in to Alexandria that had proven themselves worthy, but the sharing of information was done more out of respect for the Atlanta survivors and all they had been through than from distrust of their community.
"Yeah," he nodded, "Just finished up with Sherry and decided t'come' by and see how Morgan was doin'."
"Ah," she gave him a knowing smile, "I'll give you two some privacy then."
Standing, placing her hand on Morgan's clean, bandaged stub, she smiled down at the older man, "I'll go grab us some dinner."
"Did you make more of your chocolate chip cookies?" Morgan's smile widened when Carol nodded in reply.
Daryl watched the interaction with interest. He hadn't seen Carol really open up to anyone outside of their immediate 'family.' Though he supposed Morgan was now a part of their inner circle due to his connections to Rick and taking care of Beth the past three years. It was comforting to see one of his closest friends so at ease around someone new.
Carol placed her hand on his forearm, giving a tight squeeze as she passed, and then it was just him and Morgan.
"How long 'til doc says you can leave?" Daryl asked while shuffling into the curtained space.
"Few days. I've gotten quite 'ah bit of my strength back with all the rehab they been makin' me do. Really takes a lot outta' you, losin' an arm," he finished cheekily.
Daryl smirked, "I s'pose it does."
A tense silence fell between them and Daryl's gaze wondered around the room.
"She ain't here," Morgan sighed and sat up in the bed.
"I whadn't looking for 'er," Daryl tried to feign nonchalance.
"Listen son," Morgan strained the words as he shifted to hang his feet over the side of the bed, "You can deny it all you want, but you didn't come here t'ask me how I'm feelin'. We all know that if I was doin' just fine yesterday when you two came t'visit, that it ain't changed in twenty-four hours."
Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed thickly.
"So," Morgan huffed, "What'd you do?"
"How d'you know I did somethin'?" Daryl growled.
Morgan's chuckle had him narrowing his eyes.
"Because it's always the man's fault, even when you didn't do 'ah damn thing wrong," Morgan's smile still in place, "Just 'ah fact of life. Sooner you learn that, better off you'll be."
Daryl deflated, wiping a hand down his face, and settling it on his hip.
"Do you know where she is?" He questioned dismally.
"Sorry," he raised his only hand in surrender, "I've been sworn t'secrecy."
Daryl grit his teeth together and exhaled through his nose.
"One place you absolutely should not look though," Morgan continued cunningly, "is at the stables."
"Why would I-"
"Out of all of tha' places in Alexandria," Morgan interrupted, "there's certainly no reason for her t'be at tha' stables. She absolutely wouldn't have gone there thinkin' that it'd be tha' last place you'd look for 'er."
Daryl smirked.
He knew Morgan was a smart man; he'd had a good feeling about him since the moment Rick had proven his claim of knowing the ex-sheriff to be true. However, his way of telling Daryl where Beth was, without actually telling him and breaking whatever promise he'd made to her, only furthered Daryl's appreciation towards the man.
"I'll keep that in mind," Daryl replied perceptively and turned to leave.
"Oh and Daryl," Morgan spoke up, regaining his attention, "Whatever your reasons are, Beth will understand."
Furrowing his brows, not exactly sure what the statement meant, Daryl twisted back around to face the bed.
"John 8:32,'" Morgan quoted reminiscently while staring toward the ceiling, "'And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.'"
Daryl had never been a religious man, his only true 'churchly experiences' being on Sunday evenings when Hershel gathered everyone into the cafeteria of the prison to read a few verses out of his tattered Bible. Father Gabriel ran the church in Alexandria, but Daryl could never bring himself to attend. He had little respect for the preacher and found it hard to differentiate church from Hershel Greene. He'd read a few pages here and there from the Bible he kept in his dresser, if he had the time, but that was more out of respect for the deceased man who'd had such an important impact on his life than for his own benefit. However, hearing Morgan recite the verse so fondly brought Daryl back to cold, concrete walls and Hershel's steady voice echoing through the empty halls as he read. It was…soothing.
"Tell her tha' truth," Morgan's voice pulled him from his reveries, "She'll understand."
Daryl took a moment to gather his thoughts before finally replying, "I will."
Morgan smiled and held his right hand out toward Daryl.
Stepping forward, Daryl took his hand firmly within his own and shook it twice, before releasing his grip. When Morgan failed to released him, Daryl stood a little straighter.
"You take care 'ah her while you're out there," Morgan requested evenly.
"I'm not bringin' her with me," Daryl replied resolutely.
Slowly releasing Daryl's hand, Morgan shook his head, "She's not gonna' give you 'ah choice."
Daryl moved to speak when Morgan held up a finger.
"If there's one thing I know, it's how stubborn that girl can be when she puts her mind t'somethin'," Morgan was smiling now, "Jus' make sure both 'ah you come back in one piece."
Daryl adjusted the strap of his backpack from where it was cutting into his shoulder. He was intimately familiar with how stubborn the Greene family could be. He had a feeling it all originated from their father as both Maggie and Beth shared the trait as well. However, after their interactions this morning, he felt he'd have better luck talking to a fence post than the blonde. He doubted she'd even acknowledge his presence, much less impose that she was going with him to The Kingdom.
"'Member what I said," Morgan's tone sounded much lighter than it had a moment ago, "Be sure an' avoid them stables."
Daryl snorted and once again turned to leave.
The creaking of the bed told him that Morgan was lying back down as he paused at the edge of the curtain. Daryl had always been blunt, generally too crass, and had no problem with verbalizing what others were too afraid to say. He had in fact come to the med bay hoping to find Beth, and was relieved when he didn't if only because it gave him more time to figure out what it was he needed to say. However, the brief conversation with Morgan had helped alleviate him of most of the uncertainty he'd felt towards the impeding conversation. While Daryl didn't like the feeling of being such an 'open book' he felt gratitude towards the man nonetheless.
Looking over his shoulder, he hoarsely murmured behind him, "Thanks Morgan."
"Don't thank me yet," Morgan snickered, "You've still gotta' try t'work yourself back into her good graces."
Exiting from the billowing, white material, Daryl chuckled and began in the direction of the stables.
…
His boots crunched loudly over the gravel as he approached the open barn doors. White rock gave way to soft, brown mud as he entered the stables and he scanned the dimly lit area for any trace of the petite blonde. He caught of glimpse of her through the metal panels atop the wooden separators towards the back of the stables. Lifting a few fingers in a mock wave to Rosita as he passed, he slowly made his way down the aisle in Beth's direction.
She completely ignored him, feeding hay to a chestnut colored horse, as he leaned on the door of the stall where the animal was confined. There was an uncomfortable silence, filled with only the horse's munching as she thrust another handful of straw in between the metal bars. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, chewing on the side of his cheek, debating on whether he should just tell her he'd be back in a few days and leave or try to explain what had transpired this morning.
"I've sang that song before, haven't I?" Beth's voice was guarded.
He didn't immediately respond, watching her case subtle glances in his direction while she waited for him to speak.
"Yeah," he finally stated quietly.
"Why'd it up upset you so much?" She asked carefully.
"It didn't…," he began before shaking his head, "I dunno'."
She nodded, seeming to accept his reply, but there was still tension in her shoulders.
"I've got 'ah lot…," he exhaled and pushed away from the stall, "I just…I shouldn't have said what I said this mornin'."
"No," Beth shook her head, "If it had been me, I'd of probably been a little freaked out too."
Neither of them spoke while Beth finished feeding the horse. Daryl knew he wouldn't be satisfied leaving things in the air between them and when she turned to him, he knew he had to be as honest with Beth as she had been with him.
Using his index finger to rub circles over the pad of his thumb, he murmured,"With bein' cooped up inside these walls, waitin' for those bastards out there t'do somethin', and then not knowin' what's goin' on with The Kingdom."
Beth's eyes held his and she remained quiet while he continued.
"I took it out on ya' and I shouldn't have," he stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned his back against the stall, "When I heard you hummin', I guess I thought maybe you'd remembered somethin' and you didn't tell me."
"Why wouldn't I tell you?" She raised an eyebrow and cross her arms over her chest.
"That song is tha' one you sang when it was just me an' you," he began, "tha' night before you were taken."
"Okay," she tilted her head perplexedly, "What's that got t'do with it?"
"I dunno'," he huffed, "Nothin'…everything…it was jus' you an' me at tha' mortuary and we…"
Her eyes narrowed, "And we…? What?"
"We got close s'all," Daryl scuffed the heel of his boot against the dirt, "Closer than I was with most of tha' others."
She blinked at him, recognition coloring her features, and she weakly replied, "Oh."
Daryl snorted and stared down at his boots with a smirk plastered on his face.
"What's so funny?" Beth took a step closer to see his face.
He looked up at her, smirk still formed on his lips, and shook his head, "Nothin'."
She furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before pressing her lips together in a thin line.
Daryl pushed off the wall, keeping his hands in his pockets, and decided to change the subject back to the real reason he'd been looking for her, "So ya' still pissed with me?"
She breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, and rolled her eyes, "I wasn't pissed at you. Not really."
His faced must have expressed his incredulity.
"Okay, fine," she waved a hand in the air, "I got pissed at you because you snapped at me and I had no idea why. Then you wouldn't explain what tha' hell you'd gotten so worked up about and ended the conversation without given' me 'ah say on tha' matter. So I left and since you started it, I wasn't gonna' go lookin' for you."
"What changed your mind?" Daryl's gaze drifted between her own and the dirt beneath his boots.
"Carol came in while I was…explainin' everything t'Morgan," Beth admitted with a shrug, "She said you were under a lot 'ah pressure and that I shouldn't take it personally."
Daryl swallowed uncomfortably.
"So I guess it wasn't my hummin' that annoyed you," she was smiling when he looked up at her.
His breath hitched at the memory of her similar statement while they had been at the mortuary together. Sucking in air as inconspicuously as he could, he gave her a sloppy grin and replied, "You ain't so bad."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she nudged him with her elbow.
He stared down into her bright, smiling eyes and his expression fell. She was standing so close to him that all he had to do was bend down, just a little, and they would be touching. She must have noticed the change in his disposition because her smile faltered soon after.
"Daryl?" She whispered his name.
"Yeah?" He breathed.
"Next time you're feelin' like you did this mornin'," her eyes danced between his, "I'll listen. You've earned yourself 'ah couple of vent sessions."
He chuckled and nodded his head, "S'pose I have."
"Good," the corners of her lips lifting once more as she took a step back, "So what's with tha' bike?"
He followed the direction of her stare over his shoulder, "I'm goin' to check things out at The Kingdom."
"By yourself?" Her brows scrunched together as she looked back up at him.
"Yeah," he affirmed, "I should be back in 'ah few days."
"Alright," she hummed, tapping her fingers against her elbow with her arms still crossed, "I have 'ah few things at tha' house I'll need and then we can go."
"We?" He offered amusedly.
"You think you're tha' only one with cabin fever? Bein' stuck inside these walls?" She uncrossed her arms and propped a hand on her hip, "'Sides, I don't care how quiet you can be, it's always better t'have someone watchin' your back."
Daryl smirked to himself remembering Morgan's divination. Beth had absolutely no intention of staying behind while he 'rode off into the sunset' outside of the walls.
"You ever been on 'ah motorcycle before?" He turned and started back towards his bike.
"Not that I can remember," sarcasm dripped from her voice as she followed behind him.
"I'll take ya' for a ride," he tossed over his shoulder as they exited the barn, "Let's get yer' stuff. I told Rick I'd be outta' here before sundown."
"I need t'let Morgan know what I'm doin'," she informed him as they stopped beside his motorcycle.
"Who do you think told me not t'argue with you about wantin' to come with me?" He inquired while grabbing the handles of his bike and hooking the kickstand with the toe of his Red Wing boot in order to lift the metal rod off the ground.
"So that's how you found me," she huffed exasperatedly.
"Nah," he swung his leg over the bike and sat on the leather seat before returning his gaze to her, "He told me t'avoid the stables."
He couldn't help but laugh at the intensity of her glare.
…
Beth had never felt anything as exhilarating as sitting behind Daryl on the back on his motorcycle. It was as if she were flying from the way the wind blew across her face and through the tendrils of her hair that had worked their way free from her elastic hairband. If she hadn't been so frightened that she would fall off, she would have lifted her arms from where she gripped his leather vest to slice through the cool evening air. She had been apprehensive at first, with how loudly the bike blared down the road, but she soon melted into the heat of Daryl's back and the roar of the machine that carried her.
Daryl had told her that it would take them roughly an hour to get to The Kingdom, as they had to detour around the major cities and highways, but so far they hadn't encountered any obstacles. The sun was beginning to set, bright streaks of orange, auburn, and scarlet filling the sky, and the temperature was already beginning to drop. She burrowed further into Daryl's back to try and block the crisp wind while tightening her grip around soft leather. Her teeth would chatter ever so often and she had long lost the feeling in her legs, but that was nothing new to her. She was convinced it was from the cool temperatures and hour she'd been sitting in the same position, as she was still able to maneuver her fingers, rather than anything to do with her injury.
The bike began to slow as Daryl veered off the road and she untucked herself from behind him to look around. She wasn't familiar with their whereabouts, only aware that The Kingdom was located in Washington D.C., approximately fifteen miles from the Safe-Zone, and that it was based out of an old high school.
"We close?" She whispered after he killed the engine.
"It's 'ah ways down tha' road," he reached behind him as he spoke to help her off the bike.
She stood on shaky legs, holding tightly to his hand as the blood circulated through her limbs. After a moment or two of jiggling her feet and lifting them up to bend her knees, she was able to release his hand and stand on her own.
"I'm gonna' lay tha' bike down in between those cars," he nodded ahead of them, "Anyone comes by, they'll think it's busted an' leave it alone."
"'Kay," she murmured and crept behind him as he pushed it down the road.
They walked in silence and as soon as Daryl had the bike concealed to his satisfaction, he jerked his head for her to follow him. The area was overgrown, Mother Nature pushing through the man-made elements that had once covered her, and the few cars that lined the road were rusty and dilapidated. They had been stripped of anything that could be of use and left to rot. These were things she was used to seeing; however there was something else that had her on edge.
They slunk through the woods as quickly and quietly as possible. She assumed they were nearing the school, as the tree began to thin and cracked concrete covered the ground, but they had yet to come across any people. It was late, and everyone was probably hidden safely behind their walls, but what increased her anxiety more was that the area seemed to be completely devoid of the dead as well. At Alexandria, you could always find at least one walker shambling around, whether in the woods or around the wall, but they hadn't come across anything since they'd gotten here.
"Daryl," she stopped walking and looked around.
"Yeah?" She heard him grunt a few steps away.
"Somethin's…off," she rasped as her eyes darted around them frantically.
Her head whipped behind them when the wind blew through the leaves and she was certain she had seen someone dart behind a tree trunk.
"Beth," She could hear him approaching her.
A twig snapped and she jerked her body to the right. She caught what looked like a shadow, though it was hard to tell with how little light was left as the sun had almost completely set.
"Beth," warm hands grabbed her shoulders.
"What?" She asked through grit teeth.
"It was just tha' wind," he whispered, though his words didn't sound convincing.
"No," she shook her head, "No. There's…I saw…"
"Just tha' wind," he repeated thickly.
There was something about the tone of his voice that told her not to argue. It didn't appear like he thought she was seeing things. It was something else. Something that made her even more anxious than she already felt.
She nodded, swallowing air, and pulled on her machete while he removed his crossbow from over his shoulder.
"Should be right up here," he gestured toward the far end of the tree line.
She nodded again, not trusting her voice, as they swiftly crossed the remaining distance.
The world had turned a grayish-blue when they stepped out of the foliage, the visible sliver of the moon barely illuminating the ground below. There were no lights on in the school, no torches lit along the wall, and no voices heard from within. There was just absolute silence.
"This is wrong," She tightened her grip on the handle of her machete and kept her other hand hovering over the pistol holstered on her belt.
"Stay close," he replied without looking back at her.
She ran behind him as he dashed across the pavement towards the front gate. A thick, silver chain with a large lock dangled from the sliding, metal gateway and there were no guards patrolling the area.
"There shoulda' been buses along the inside of tha' wall," Daryl said more to himself than to her as he peered through the slender opening created when he pulled the chain taut.
"I think I can squeeze through," she glanced between him and the narrow gap, "See what's on tha' other side."
The glare he sent her clearly expressed his opposition to her suggestion.
"Then what're we gonna' do?" She grumbled while glancing over her shoulder.
She couldn't shake the eerie feeling that someone was watching them.
"Well go around," he said while moving away from the gate, "See if we can find 'ah place t'climb the wall."
She made no reply and silently walked along the wall behind him. Her hand trembled from how tightly she held the handle protruding from the brace of her machete. She had forgone restraint and pulled her pistol from its holster, gripping it tightly in her left hand, while she kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one appeared behind them. Daryl kept his crossbow poised, sweeping it from left to right as they kept their backs to the wall.
While being near a wooded area would generally make Beth feel more comfortable, it was doing quite the opposite at the moment. She kept observing movement within the trees, but could never actually see anyone. The dim light of the moon was casting distorted shadows and every time she scanned the trees, she expected to see someone staring back at her. The woods were enabling her imagination and increasing her unease with every step she took.
The cool breeze chilled the droplets of sweat forming on her brow and when she licked her lips, she tasted liquid salt. Her vision was slowly beginning to swim and the more she concentrated, the harder it became to focus. She stepped within the footprints that Daryl left behind and so far, they have found no flaw in The Kingdom's walls.
Daryl disappeared around the corner, returning to the front walls, when Beth heard a sound behind her. She spun on her heel, bracing her gun on the metal rod of her machete to steady her hand, and glared into the darkness. She could hear someone…or something moving through the tall grass, but couldn't make out a figure. Her brain went into overdrive, examining their surroundings and determining that someone could keep themselves concealed by squatting down in the waist high grass, slowly ambling across the ground, and ducking into the woods for cover. It's what she would do if she were stalking someone. The thought sent a chill down her spin and she clenched her teeth together tightly. She couldn't be sure if someone was actually there or if her mind was playing tricks on her, but the shuffling of Daryl's feet as he backtracked towards her seemed to minutely ease her paranoia.
"What is it?" His voice was a low rumble beside her ear.
"Someone's out there," her voice trembled as she spoke.
She felt his hand ghost across her hip as he pulled her behind him. She lowered her gun when he moved in front of her, completely blocking her view, and his hand left her hip to return to the trigger of his crossbow. He then pressed his back into her, forcing her to step backwards, and they continued at a slow pace until they were standing in front of the fastened gate.
"Shoot tha' lock," he instructed, never taking his eyes off the far corner of the wall.
Beth didn't hesitate; firing three quick rounds into the heavy duty lock before it finally fell away from the chain. Any other time she would have been more apprehensive of what could possibly be awaiting them inside the wall, if not for the growing terror that had long since settled in her gut while being on the outside.
"Got it," Beth rushed as she pulled the chain from the wall and opened the gate enough for them to slip through.
As soon as Daryl stepped within the walls, she pushed the gate shut and pulled down the interior lever, effecting 'relocking' the gate. She took a deep breath, pressing her forehead against the cool metal, feeling a sense of relief from the protection it provided them. When her breathing had evened out, she turned around to find Daryl's form rigid. His broad shoulder obstructed the view directly in front of her and when she stepped around him, she felt her pulse quicken all over again.
There was a bus lodged in the entrance of the school, blood smeared across the yellow paint, and what appeared to be walkers pacing up and down the aisle of the wrecked vehicle. There were no lights…no guards…no people anywhere. The buses that Daryl claimed to have lined the inner walls were missing and the place looked completely abandoned.
"Daryl," she forced her gaze away from the movement inside the bus to stare up at him.
"Where tha' fuck is everyone?" He sneered as her peered down the sights of his crossbow.
"I don't know," her voice came out softer than intended as she once again stabilized her pistol against the brace of her machete.
If this was a community like Alexandria, there should have been a healthy number of survivors still dwelling within these walls, finishing up their day while the guards took their post for evening patrols. Stepping up the concrete stairs towards the moaning bus, she had no idea what had happened here, but one thing was explicitly clear.
The Kingdom was a ghost town.
...
A/N: I wanted to have a little bump in Daryl and Beth's 'relationship' progression. He's stressed and naturally people tend to take out their frustrations on the people they care about. It's just human nature. If their relationship went too smoothly, it wouldn't seem real. While I want Daryl to appear more settled into apocalyptic life, we still see snippets of him reverting back to the anger we saw in seasons 1 and 2 on the show, so I felt it was important to have those here as well. Thus the beginning scene of this chapter developed from the tension I've been building in the past few chapters. I wanted Daryl's reaction to Beth's humming 'Be Good' to be severe. I don't know anyone who would be like 'oh hey, you remember a song from before you got shot through the head. That's cool.' So there you have it! My thoughts on their little tiff!
So I dug…and I searched…and I scoured the internet for ANYTHING that might tell me where Hilltop and The Kingdom are located in TWD universe. I managed to find that Hilltop is only supposed to be approximately twenty miles from the ASZ. I decided to go either east or west of Alexandria, making Hilltop either close to Fairfax, VA. or Marlton, MD. (mind you I live in Texas and have no idea about either of these places except for looking at a map). The Kingdom is closer to Alexandria than Hilltop. With no solid map to go by, I decided to work with what I knew. The Kingdom is located in Washington D.C. (which is north of Alexandria) and is based in what used to be a high school. I went to google maps and started looking for high schools in D.C. and tried to pick on that was close to Alexandria and a greater distance from my estimations of Hilltop's location. I settled for St. John's College High School. The layout of the school is somewhat similar to that which we've seen in the comics, which is either on purpose or complete coincidence, and the campus is spread across a thirty acre plot. None of this has anything to do with the story, but I'd just thought people might be interested in locations.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Next few will focus on Daryl and Beth so you can all look forward to lots of Bethyl scenes!