"I think they're still out there somewhere," Beth said to Daryl, almost a little dreamily as she popped another corn chip in to her mouth.
He ignored her at first, before grunting a small response, his eyes down focused on the task of oiling and tightening his beloved crossbow.
They were sat on the steps leading up to the entrance of the funeral home, the home they had commandeered as their own for the time being, having offered them shelter and relative safety from the darkness growing all around them.
Beth's head was rested on Daryl's shoulder lazily as she gazed out in front of her. There wasn't much to see; a road, some gravestones beyond that, then a little further in to the distance, the edge to the woods they had trekked so hopelessly through during their first few desperate days alone together.
"I'm just sure Maggies still alive," she continued, her eyes wide and hopeful.
She hadn't give her missing sister as much thought as perhaps she should have done recently, Beth thought, hitting her with a small pang of painful emotion as she looked out on to the bleak unknown.
Daryl put his crossbow down on the ground beside him. He sniffed, rubbing the side of his nose, tilting his head in her direction, looking at her through the edges of his long hair, trying to think of the best thing to say.
A part of him agreed with her, there was still a chance that some of their friends were still alive, surviving just as they were.
There had been people getting on the bus. Maggie, Glenn, Rick, Carl, Michonne, they could all easily have ended up on it. And if not, he knew they were survivors, they had made it this far so he would like to think they would have found a way out somehow, just like he had.
But Daryl was also a realist; he had seen the force the Governor had used to attack them back at the prison. There had to be a chance that not everyone would have made it. Not everyone would have been as lucky as they had been.
He didn't want to totally crush Beth's bubble though, memories of the angry way he had addressed her in their earlier days together still hitting him with pulses of guilt.
"She's a tough one," he replied, reaching over to lightly touch her hand. Before moving away from her, standing up, swinging his crossbow over his back.
Beth looked up, examining his face.
He looked healthier and more alive than he had done in weeks. His hair and clothes were clean, he still had a touch of stubble but his cheeks had more colour in them, the bags under his eyes were fading and his eyes were brighter, less haunted they had more of a spark to them.
"Well, guess I'll be off then," he said, pressing his lips together, watching her nodding back at him as he gathered his things ready for a hunting trip.
He didn't want to make too big a deal out of the fact this was the first day either of them had ventured properly outside the grounds to their temporary home, and also the first time they had spent any real time apart from each other since their prison escape.
They had rested for over a week in the empty house, after their last traumatic journey out, resulting in them both narrowly cheating death at the hands of the men they had eventually managed to kill themselves.
It hadn't exactly been a conscious decision to stay put. But neither of them seemed to have found the desire or need to vocalise it. It had remained unspoken between them.
They had been comfortable and contented, and the days had somehow rolled in to a week.
They had been caught up in their own little world, just the two of them in the strange old funeral home. They'd had enough food, a comfortable bed and each other. Not since the start of the outbreak, had they felt so relaxed, a little dazed still, but relaxed none the less, and happy. Not realising how desperately they had needed to pause and take some time out, some place where they felt relatively safe.
Daryl had also needed time to allow his wound to heal and regain his strength fully. Now that he felt fitter and healthier by the day, he was itching to get outdoors again, to do what he did best and track down something more appealing for them to eat besides tinned tomatoes and peaches.
"I'll be back before dark fall," he reassured, looking at her intently, stopping what he was doing to take a step towards her again.
Beth chewed on her thumbnail, breaking in to small smile, her eyes reflecting the natural light, "I know," she replied.
Their eyes locked, Daryl's eyes widening as though he was about to say something further. Instead he simply swooped down to her level where she was sat on the step still, kissing her tenderly on her forehead, loose whips of her blonde hair tickling his cheeks as he repositioned himself to stand back up.
"Aint ya going to kiss me properly?" Beth asked, with a flirty smile, causing the small dimples on both her cheeks to appear fully as she stood up too, to face him.
Not so long ago that kind of talk would have made Daryl uncomfortable. But now, any hang ups either of them may have had about starting an intimate relationship with each other had vanished along with the rest of their old survival family.
Beth was the best thing to happen to Daryl in a long time, he could see that now that he had finally found the courage to face up to what he was feeling and what had been subtly developing between them. He didn't think anyone had ever looked at him the way that she did.
His lips twitched in to a smile.
He wrapped his muscular arms around her neck, drawing her in closer to him, crashing their lips together, both feeling the emotional connection that had been building up over the past week. Everything seeming to fade away, except for them. Sparks flying.
Needing to catch their breath, they pulled back.
"Beth," Daryl's gruff voice said softly, tucking behind her ear, a few strands of flyway hair gently blowing in the breeze.
She looked at him expectantly, sensing what he was about to say was important.
He looked away for a second and cleared his throat, "Whatever happens I'll be back, whatever happens I'm with you," he said, looking deeply in to her eyes.
She felt a small lump form in her throat, along with the threat of a few tears. He had shown her in so many ways, how much he cared, but now that he had simply voiced those feelings she was simply overcome by emotion. She knew how difficult it was for him to be so open.
"I love you, Daryl Dixon," she said, the words rolling off her tongue, unplanned, effortlessly.
"Love you too," he responded, nearly at the same time, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, his breath hot against her neck.
He kissed her again, with just the right mix of passion and tenderness.
She clung to him, caressing the back of his head, burying her fingers in his long scraggly hair breathing in his scent. Then she rested her head on his shoulder, smiling, feeling in that moment insanely happy.
…..
Alone in the house, Beth was happily humming a tune, writing in her journal. Her blonde ponytail falling over her face and spilling on to the page.
She had kept a journal sporadically ever since the beginning of the outbreak. It had helped her keep some sort of sense of normality, especially in the early days. But not since those first few bleak days on the road with Daryl, had she found the time or motivation to pick up a pen and put her thoughts in to written words until they had found sanctuary in their current home.
She wasn't exactly thrilled at being alone here, but she knew Daryl needed to go out hunting alone, he was fast and skilled and she would only slow him down.
They were both pretty much back to full strength, their luxury of a weeks rest in an actual bed as comfortable as the one here, being more than either had experienced or expected since the days of the farm.
The place was still a little creepy to Beth, but with the distraction of having Daryl for company she had successfully managed to curb a lot of her nerves and uneasiness about it over the past few days. Now being alone again, they were quickly starting to creep back. Although she wasn't exactly alone Beth thought, glancing to her side to see a small furry black face nudging in to the side of her journal.
"Lucky," she said, smiling, as she felt the vibrations of the little cat purring against the back of her hand as she reached out to touch her.
Daryl had said not to give her a name, Beth knew he didn't want them to get too attached to the kitten, but Beth couldn't help but feel that ever since she had shown up the cat had brought them nothing but good luck.
Pushing her away from her page, Beth sighed, chewing the end of her pen, trying to distract herself some more by adding to her latest written entry.
Daryl would be back soon before sunset, and when he returned things would go back to how they had been for the past few days, Beth thought with a smile, warming her up inside as she mentally went over the last week in her head.
It was hard to put in to words exactly how Daryl had made her feel. They had been thrown together under the worst imaginable circumstances. For a while she had not thought that anything more than basic friendship and companionship would be possible between them.
But out of the darkness, they had somehow managed to find a connection, something good, something worth living for, something to make all their struggles seem worthwhile. She'd gone from admiring him from afar, but only knowing the most basic things about him back at the prison, to understanding him in a way she had never thought she could, intimately, completely.
He didn't say a lot to her, even now, but what he could convey with a simple look or touch of his hand meant just as much.
The days had been taken up lying around together, eating and drinking, getting small fires going, swapping the occasional story. It had been casual and low-key compared to their lives both back at the prison and on the road. Here, they could have been any couple on a trip away together.
The nights they had spent exploring each others bodies, both having discovered a new found appetite for the physical pleasures they could provide each other with, in making love.
Beth wondered if it this was what it felt like to be married, to feel so closely bonded to another person, their presence next to you each night feeling so natural. Her heart began to race, as a new swarm of butterflies hit her, as she thought back to their last night together, describing in her neat hand writing, how after they had made love they had both laid there quietly for a few moments together.
'Daryl held my face with both hands, pulling me close. He was so affectionate, I never would have thought he would be capable of something like that, back in the early days. I wanted to ask him then, in that moment, what we should do next, where we should go. But something held me back, because a part of me just wants to enjoy the little things, before they're gone forever.'
As she continued to scribble her thoughts down on to the page in front of her, Beth felt a shiver run across her, wrapping her hooded sweater a little tighter around herself she licked her lips and glanced around. Noticing the sky outside was suddenly starting to turn a shade of dark grey. Daryl would be back soon.
She suddenly sat up straight, hearing what she swore was the creak of a floorboard, looking around for the cat, she saw it had disappeared just as she heard another creak, this time louder and more defined.
'Stupid cat', Beth thought, silently willing Daryl to hurry up and come back.
After everything she had experienced recently she didn't spook easily, but she would feel happier if he was back here with her. She flinched, hearing another creak, followed by what she felt certain was the sound of a door opening and steady rhythmical footsteps.
Bang bang bang!
She felt another shiver running straight down her spine, her breath increasing with every footstep she heard. Hoping and praying it was Daryl, she tiptoed across the room, pressing her back against the wall as the noise of the footsteps echoed around her. She closed her eyes for a second. Opening them, she saw the door to the room edging open, black boots appearing.
She looked up to see the silhouette of a figure around Daryl's height. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she took a step closer, about to shout out to him.
But looking across some more, Beth's heart nearly stopped, her hand flying up to her mouth as a thick mop of grey hair came in to view and she realised with horror, it wasn't Daryl!
A/N - Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you have time. I didn't mean for this story to become so creepy it was originally just meant to be Beth & Daryl at the funeral home lol!, but it is kind of writing itself after an idea I had from reading an interview with one of the shows writers.