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Chapter 5

Two months had gone by since their near run-in at the small country store.

The sky was black and sprinkled with stars. Everything had been quiet all day so the two had worked diligently on getting a small garden set up behind the RV. On his last solo run, Daryl had found some seed packets and with it being close to the end of spring, it was about time to plant some vegetables if they were going to be staying there. Beth had beamed brightly at the man when he had brought those seed packets back.

They'd gotten a lot done in a day, so after a meal of rabbit stew, they had decided to rest. Or rather, they were trying to rest.

Beth was tossing and turning at nearly every sound that was made outside of their home. It was remarkable that she could even hear all of the noises that were being made with all of the moving that she had been doing before the nighttime sounds had reached their peak. The most persistent sound was that of a cricket that just would not shut up.

Chirrrp. Chirrrp.

The cricket would stop its song lending Beth some semblance of relief before it would start back up again leaving the woman to huff in annoyance.

Daryl had grown amused, as he often was when Beth was annoyed about something. Chirrrp. Chirrrrp.

"Are you laughin' down there?"

He was still sleeping in the same room. Couldn't bring himself to leave her in there alone. The two had gotten closer over the past few months but definitely not close enough for them to share the bed. He reminded himself of this each time he walked in to find her passed out beneath the checkerboard blanket that they'd found.

It would be so easy. It would feel so right for him to just sink down onto the old springy mattress and curl into her warmth. It would also feel wrong.

Chirrrp. Chirrrrp.

"Nah, girl. Go to sleep," he spoke gruffly with humor-filled undertones.

"This isn't funny, Daryl. I want that cricket dead." He could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

Chirrp. Chirrrp. Chirrrp. Chirrrrp.

She sat up angrily, throwing the covers off of her.

"You goin' to go shoot it?"

Beth grabbed her pillow and threw it towards the man's stretched out form on the floor.

"Your cricket ain't down here," Daryl chuckled. He pulled the pillow off of his chest and pushed it beneath his head, to join his. Her scent was on the pillow. Light and clean, it seemed to rush over him, enveloping him with the warmth and comfort that was uniquely Beth.

Beth slid down off of the bed, her small body sitting next to where his head lay. What was she doing?

"I want that back," she uttered softly, reaching over to gently tug on it. Daryl had stiffened and he turned his head to look at her, only able to see that she was turned towards him as well. For how dark it was outside, it was almost darker in the RV with the only light being that of a small battery operated tea light that Beth had clicked on before laying down for rest.

It didn't really provide them with any light but she knew that and the man had guessed that it was an object of comfort for the girl.

Daryl lifted his head off of the pillow…her pillow… so that she was able to pull it free. He thought that she was going to just grab the pillow and get back into her bed to toss and turn some more. Instead she scooted forward and put the pillow behind her before lying down beside him.

What was she doing?

"The cricket stopped," she muttered sleepily, "Is this okay?"

No.

"Yeah. Go to sleep, girl," Daryl whispered back, his heart thumping a mile a minute. She was finally comfortable, and her breathing was evening out. He could feel her breath ghosting over his cheek. She was close.

Yes, the cricket had stopped.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as Daryl had imagined it would be. Beth was still sleeping when he'd gotten up, as usual, so he just went to handle his morning business and to check the perimeter.

When she woke up, they went for the woods.

The boot tracks were deep. Like someone was walking around with a lot of weight on them. Or they were walking around and purposely digging their heels into the ground. Beth nearly scoffed. Daryl had been teaching her how to track but his clues on this day were incredibly juvenile and obvious. She was getting bored. It had been an hour and a half since she had started her hunt for him and the clues were offering her no sense of a challenge.

She followed the deep footprints further into the dense brush of the woods before she started to notice that something was off. She furrowed her brow and glanced around for Daryl's boot print. There were at least three different types of shoe prints in addition to Daryl's. They indicated that there was some sort of a struggle and Beth was immediately alarmed.

"No…" she whispered aloud, her blue-grey eyes darting this way and that to discern what had happened. Did walkers get to him? Was he hurt by other people? How did he let someone get that close to him?

She was starting to panic. He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't leave her. He told her that he wouldn't.

The ground was spinning and she kneeled down. Her breathing was getting out of control. What the hell was going on? This was just supposed to be a casual training exercise. This wasn't supposed to happen.

She was starting to hyperventilate when she heard the ground crunching behind her. She stood up quickly and turned around, her knife up and ready to swing, eyes wide and angry. And then tears were running down her face.

Daryl was standing there, a sincere look of concern apparent on his own dirty face.

He brought himself forward calmly and he slowly reached up with both of his hands to get her knife from her tightly clutched fist.

"Beth?" he questioned dipping his head down to look up into her eyes. She didn't respond.

"Hey, Beth? What's wrong, girl? What happened?"

Daryl's hand still touched her own. He could feel the trembling start.

"I thought that somethin' had gotten you. I thought you were gone," Beth spoke finally, her eyes still glossy with tears. This girl was crying for him?

"What? Why you think that?"

Beth stared down at the ground and he followed her gaze, noticing his boot print atop other old footprints.

"You told me you wouldn't leave…"

Daryl nearly let out a laugh at her misinterpretation of the tracks before he realized just how serious things were.

"I wasn't lyin' to you, you hear me? I ain't leavin' you, girl. Come here."

Daryl pulled Beth towards the tracks that had the crying.

"These other tracks are old. I stepped here so that you could try 'n figure out which ones are fresh and which ones are old," the hunter explained.

Beth let out a wet laugh at just how stupid she was to jump straight to the conclusion that something bad had happened. Now that he was showing her, she could see just how different the older tracks were compared to the new ones.

"You good?" Daryl questioned releasing her hand, his eyes narrowed with concern.

Beth pushed herself forward into Daryl's chest so that her wet face was nearly smothered by his plaid shirt and leather vest. Daryl stiffened, as she expected, and placed his hands at her elbows; his grip tight but not strong. He just couldn't keep his hands off of her.

"I can't believe that I freaked out like that," Beth mumbled into his shirt.

"Yeah, well, maybe it was 'cause of that cricket. Got your mind all weird today."

Beth snickered at the man's attempt at humor before pulling away from him. She held her hand out for her knife and tucked it into its sheath when he handed it over to her.

"Maybe. So does this mean that I failed today's lesson, Mr. Dixon?"

There was a twinge of endearment, as there always was, when she used that nickname. He couldn't have been imagining it every time. He was warming up to it.

"Nah. You did pretty good 'til you got here," Daryl spoke shrugging his shoulders and looking around the area.

"Bullshit. You made those tracks super easy for me to follow," Beth accused.

Daryl shook his head and started moving back towards their trailer park. No, he hadn't made the day's lesson any easier for her. He was actually quite impressed that she had made it as far as she had as quickly as she did. The only reason that he had gone back to check on her was because she hadn't caught up to him yet. At the rate that she was tracking, she should have caught up to him.

"Maybe you're just gettin' better. You think about that?"

Author's Note: Sweet. An update. I tried to get some awkward moments in here. I hope that things weren't too ooc. Let me know in a review what you guys thought!

Yes, to answer a question from one of my reviewers, I do feel like Daryl's is super closed off and perhaps a bit reckless or something...but basically...just lost. And it breaks my heart. Ugh.