Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Chapter 3

"How bad did it get you?"

Beth looked up with a start, from her bloody hands, at Daryl who'd seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

She was more startled at the fact that he'd been avoiding talking to her for nearly a month now and all of a sudden, here he was.

"Could be worse. Just not used to it, is all," the woman responded while wiping her hands on the floral apron that she had found in one of the trailers when they'd raided through the remains of the park.

"Mmmhmm," Daryl grumbled while holding out his hand, "Lemme see."

Beth held out her scratched and bleeding palms to be inspected by the hunter's careful eyes. It made her feel a bit self-conscious if she were to be honest with herself. She could feel the rough calluses of his warm hands as he turned her own over and dropped them, completing his inspection.

He turned to the chicken wire patch that Beth had been working on in the fence.

"Go on inside. I'll finish up here. Use some of that antiseptic lotion you found."

"I can't just stop what I'm doin'. I don't expect you to do everythin' for me, Daryl. I'm capable," Beth snapped, her thin blonde brows furrowed in frustration. She didn't know where this animosity came from but she was sick of being treated like some China doll.

Daryl crossed his arms and turned to watch her, his own brow line set in a crease. He studied her, as intently as ever, remembering when she'd first found that stupid apron amongst all of the debris surrounding their home. She'd immediately wrapped the dirty thing around her body, basking in how much it reminded her of her late mother. She had told him so.

He hated the damn thing. Made her look like June Cleaver or some other domesticated Martha Stewart type. Maybe he hated the apron because it was how things were supposed to be. And those types of reminders always made him feel like shit when he thought of her in a less than innocent way. He was a man, after all, and she was most definitely a woman.

"I'm serious. You give me more credit than everyone else ever did, yeah, but you still treat me like I'm goin' to break at any moment. I can hunt and track too. Otis taught me years ago. I'm nowhere near as good as you are but I can do it. I can go on runs. I'm capable," Beth finished.

As she spoke, she had reached into her apron to pull out two strips of cloth, successfully managing to wrap them, one each, around her wounded hands, tightly. She reached towards the chicken wire patch, set on continuing her work but Daryl stopped her pursuit by gripping onto her arm.

"You capable of sleeping on your own, again?"

Beth gasped loudly in response before biting back, "Are you?"

The blonde woman ripped her arm from Daryl's grasp and stormed away towards the RV.

Daryl's hand hung in the air, surprise and embarrassment echoing through his entire being.

Of course, her wariness towards him lately was his fault. He had assumed that finding them a home would make things better. Happier.

All that he had successfully managed to do was create a whole lot of awkward situations...hence the reason why he'd been avoiding her.

He was just trying to keep her safe. That's what her father would've wanted. That's what Maggie would've wanted. Rick.

Daryl stroked his chin in contemplation as he stared across the expanse of the fence that they had been patching up over the last month. He had already started barb-wiring the parts of the fence that were in their blind spots while Beth had been finishing up with the patches.

She had called him out. Lately she'd been able to read his thoughts as they related to his actions to a t. On one of their first nights there, in the RV, he had woken her up from a nightmare that had her whimpering. She had asked him to stay in the tiny bedroom with her for a night, and so he did. One night became more.

He slept on the floor out of respect but for her to recognize how therapeutic and necessary it was for him to stay in there with her so close by made him nervous. He wasn't aware that his feelings were so obvious, especially to her.

Daryl sighed loudly. When had he become such a little bitch? He chewed on the inside of his cheek before frowning.

Maybe he hated that damn apron because that's how he wanted things to be.

Inside the RV, Beth had made her way to the edge of her bed, arms hugging her body tightly. She hadn't meant for their conversation to become as heated as it had but...there it was.

Making it out of that dank, disgusting cellar that her kidnappers had her in, had made her recognize just how strong of a person she was and no one was going to take that away from her now. Not even Daryl Dixon.

But he probably wasn't trying to do that anyway. Beth groaned, aggravated at herself.

The older man was just trying to be considerate in that gruff demeanor of his and she had made a mountain out of a mole hill.

Beth stood up and walked the short walk to the kitchen. She could see that Daryl was still standing at the fence. Probably brooding.

She watched fascinated by the way that his unruly hair moved at the light touch of the wind. That man had a way about him.

Her hands stung a bit thanks to the cuts from the chicken-wire but she ignored the mild pains as she took off her apron and flung it across their living space making her way towards the door.

"Dixon!" She called out as lightly as possible, not wanting to sneak up on him, if it were even possible.

Daryl turned towards the woman, his hand raised to his crossbow's strap.

"We can't do this, alright? This stupid arguin'; it's not us. All we got is each other until we find the others so we need to be like this," Beth spoke exasperatedly as she twisted the forefinger and middle finger of her right hand together.

"We do, huh?" Daryl asked. He turned back towards the fence, his focus seemingly on the trees surrounding.

Beth dropped her hand to her side dejectedly and made to start moving back toward the RV.

"Alright," she heard him utter softly, "Fine, but you're goin' to need to trust me."

Daryl had turned to look at the girl, one hand resting on one of the fence posts and the other pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. There was a deep frown set on his face and his blue eyes were narrowed in serious fashion.

"Who else am I goin' to trust, Daryl? We aren't exactly surrounded by people."

"You know what I mean. I don't think you're weak. So if that's what you're thinkin' you need to stop...We'll go on a run tomorrow. We need to get some things." Daryl chastised meeting her eyes.

Beth looked away before nodding. He was letting her join him for once.

"What do we need?"

"Make a list. You're the one who wanted to go on a run so bad. Ain't you capable?"

Beth's thin blonde eyebrows moved to form a frown as she cut her eyes back over to Daryl.

He was smirking. That was the closest thing she'd seen to a smile from the man in a long while. Her brow line lifted and she offered a small grin.

"Yeah."

Beth turned to move back towards the RV when a harrowing thought occurred to her.

"Daryl?" Beth turned to the man to see that his attention was still fully on her.

"What?"

"Don't you think it's weird that we haven't seen any walkers in a week?"

Daryl frowned in contemplation. Damn right that was one of the thoughts that had been plaguing him...almost just as much as thinking about Beth had been.

Either the walkers were being killed by someone else or they were forming a herd. Neither of the two options were good for the couple.

The hunter had been careless in scouting the area for survivors, that much was true, and now he was kicking himself for it. He needed to keep this girl safe.

Being the last man standing did not factor in with his immediate plans.

Author's Note: Hello everyone. Forgive me for the tardiness! I'm super busy with fulfilling the degree requirements for two different bachelor degree programs at my university so I find it extremely difficult to find time to write.

This chapter was written before the premiere but I wish I'd gotten it online sooner!

Tell me what you think in review about this chapter AND the new season!