2/10

The second time the Little Girl box opened on Daryl was when he was caught in a bad situation with Beth that neither of them had any control over. After Zach died, Daryl had found himself watching Beth more often. Her passionate words in the dim corridor had struck a chord with him and the more he watched her, the more he found how true her statement had been. She was lonely – the type of lonely that could drive a person to insanity. She spent her days locked in a prison, taking care of a baby who wasn't hers; singing softly as she nursed Judith, or writing or drawing in her book; reading in the library, or standing on the catwalk and gazing out over the fields. The adults had little time for her, and the kids were too busy playing games.

The feeling that slowly took root in his stomach took him several days to name; when he finally did, he was dismayed to learn it tasted like guilt. Thick and sour, and Daryl nursed it close to his chest as the warm weather slowly began to move towards the cooler months. He had no idea how to help her; to show her that she was more than Judith's surrogate mother. But as the days grew shorter, he was helpless to do anything as the light that glowed inside of her slowly started to dim. It was in the library one evening that he found not only Beth, but his answer as well. She was curled up in the automotive section of the library, and Daryl tilted his head slightly as he watched her pour over a manual on how to fix cars.

"You even know how to drive?" he asked by way of greeting.

Beth simply shrugged, and Daryl smiled slightly. She hadn't jumped or gasped when he'd alerted her to his presence, and he took it as invitation to lower himself to the floor near her lamp. Slumping against the shelves, Daryl watched as she ran her finger across the page she was reading, before jotting something down in the notebook beside her.

"Well do you?" he asked when she seemed content to sit in silence, and Beth finally sighed and looked up.

"I know the basics of it, Daryl," she said quietly. "But I've never driven a car, no. I had no need to learn when we were on the farm. I rode a horse, or Daddy drove me to school. I could drive the tractor, but have I ever driven a car? No." She smiled wryly and shrugged. "I necked with a boy in the back seat once… but don't go telling my Daddy that."

Daryl's mouth twitched in amusement at her dry humor, and he shrugged when Beth arched her eyebrow at him in question.

"You wanna learn?" he asked finally, and rubbed a hand roughly over the back of his neck when a hesitant smile flittered across her face in answer.

The following day found him in the passenger seat of the truck at dawn, explaining how the gears worked and why as Beth watched and listened. She only interrupted him twice, and both times were to ask intelligent questions. When he finally let her turn the key over, he was surprised when she only stalled the truck once between gears. Beth took it easy, but Daryl still watched her footwork like a hawk as she slowly did a lap around the field. For the next two weeks, he taught her all that he knew; how to park was one of the funnier lessons, and he ended up sniggering when she continued to bump over the poles he had set out for her to practice reverse parking in. But when she finally did get it, the smile she tossed at him warmed him more than the early morning heat had.

For the next few days, however, he had very little time to spare as he organized a run that would take them back to the Big Spot. They were running dangerously low on supplies, and Daryl knew that with the helicopter falling through the ceiling, many of the Walkers that had been inside would have been destroyed; it was one of the safer options that would bear the result they needed. It was the only reason why he suggested letting Beth come. The arguments that had flown in the face of his suggestion had been varied, but it all came down to the same thing. Too young – she needed to be protected. Daryl scoffed slightly and crossed his booted foot over his knee as he leaned back in his seat.

"It ain't up for discussion; she's coming… she's the only one who knows Lil' asskicker's size by sight alone. 'Sides… she ain't a kid. 'Bout time yáll let her join in."

"She's seventeen years old," Carol began, only to pause when Daryl shook his head.

"Nuh… she's eighteen. Seems that we missed a pretty fuckin' important date in her life," he said flatly.

Complete and utter silence ran the length of the table, and Hershel closed his eyes as he slowly shook his head.

"My God," he finally whispered as he leaned back in his seat. "What does that say about humanity, when you forget your own child's birthday?" he asked.

Daryl shrugged, and picked at the dry skin around his nails as he watched Hershel.

"It says we're fighting for survival," he said finally. "Now I don't know 'bout the rest of y'all, but I seem to remember a time when Beth took a knife to her wrist because life just got away from her. Got too heavy. Unless you wanna repeat of that period, she's comin' outside. As I said - it ain't open for discussion. It's a safe run, Hershel. And she'll be wit' me. You really think I'm gonna let any harm come to her?"

It took a long time for the others to come around to his way of thinking, but his argument had been made with Hershel, and Daryl knew that with him on his side that Beth would be allowed to go. Sure enough, two days later Daryl watched as Beth slipped her hand outside the passenger window as he rode past; her eyes were at half-mast as the wind whistled through her fingers and tugged teasingly at her hair, and as he glanced toward her, they locked eyes. Daryl's reward in that moment was a blinding smile. He wasn't sure if she saw the small grin that curled his own lips, but he knew he would tuck the picture of her smile into his memory for the moments ahead where he had to fight to remember why he cared so much. The beginning of the run itself wasn't so bad – Beth stayed in the truck while the group dispatched the few Walkers who were shuffling around, before she slipped outside the cabin as Daryl walked towards her.

"You stay low and you stay one step behind me at all times," he began, only to scowl when Beth bounced on her toes and nodded.

"Daddy and Maggie have already given me the same variation of this speech, Daryl," she said with a cheeky grin. "Stay close to Daryl, walk quietly, and do as he asks. But if you see a Walker, shove Daryl into its path and run the other way."

Daryl could only blink, before he sighed and gestured for her to follow him. Sasha, Michonne, and Glenn were already inside when Daryl led Beth through the doors, and he watched silently as Beth grabbed a large sack and began her perusal of the isles. She was quiet on her feet and methodical in her approach; the first sack was filled with odds and ends that would make their lives a little more comfortable, and she passed that sack to Sasha before opening another one. Baby clothes went into this one; warmer articles and larger sizes. Formula, teething rings and bits and pieces that Judith would need.

By the time she opened her last bag, Daryl was telling the others to get ready to go. Sasha and Tyreese had already grabbed the tinned food and all the extra seeds they could find in the gardening section and Michonne had taken care of other necessities. Rounding the corner of the toiletry isle, Daryl watched as Beth shoved women's personal products into the bag, before turning to face the condoms. When they began to get tossed into the bag without a word, Daryl nodded silently. No one else had thought of that before – not that he knew of anyway. He'd pulled out himself with Karen, and had hoped like hell that he hadn't gotten her pregnant. Crossing his arms, he watched as Bath shoved soap and shampoo into the bag, before nodding as she scanned the isle. He saw the way her eyes lingered briefly on little pots of lip stuff, before they skipped over them and she turned to walk towards the end of the isle. Daryl frowned and headed after her. As he passed the pots, he glanced at them and saw that it was fruit flavored lip balm. Grabbing one at random, he shoved it in his pocket and kept walking without breaking stride.

But as he rounded the corner, a noise caught his keen sense of hearing, and he was reaching out to grab Beth before she could take another step. She stopped dead in her tracks when his palm slapped tightly over her mouth, but she remained fluid as he drew her back against him with one hand, while he unslung his crossbow with the other. Complete and utter silence settled over them, and Daryl drew Beth backwards slowly. His fingers stuttered slightly as he lowered his hand slowly from her mouth; over the slope of her neck and the fine bones of her clavicle, before he drew her slowly behind him in one fluid move. He felt her grasp the back of his shirt in the light fist; the warmth of her breath ruffled the hair behind his ear, and he mentally applauded her for her silence as she melted into his shadow. It was the shuffling of feet he had heard, and he began to back away from the sound silently. Beth's hand fell from his back to his hip, and Daryl blew out a slow steady breath as he raised his crossbow. But when the Walker rounded the corner, Daryl swallowed hard. He heard the hitch in Beth's breathing, and ignoring the way her fingers had dug into his skin, he lined the crossbow up with Zach's head. And as Beth's forehead lowered to his shoulder, he pulled the trigger.

"Stay here."

He breathed it out almost inaudibly, but he felt Beth turn away from the sight of what had become her boyfriend. Moving quickly, Daryl retrieved the arrow, and after a final glance at the ravaged face at his feet he returned to Beth's side. They had barely taken two steps when a group of five Walkers rounded the corner, and the echo of hungry snarls began to echo. Grasping Beth's elbow as he drew level with her, Daryl began to lead her toward the doors. The shuffling sound began to get louder and Daryl ducked away from the doors and down another isle. Yet the Walkers following them turned down the same isle, and Daryl shook his head in bewilderments as he tugged Beth into the clothing section. It was easier to hide in here, yet the Walkers followed them as if Daryl had left them a trail to follow. It was only when Daryl pushed Beth ahead of him that he realized what had happened and why the Walkers were tracking them so doggedly. In the split second it took for him to recognize the blood staining the pants against Beth's inner thigh, the lid he had on the Little Girl box became unhinged, and he swore angrily as he continued to push her ahead of himself as he broke into a run.

"Fuck, Beth… couldn't ya have plugged it up?" he hissed, and when Beth glanced at him in bewilderment, Daryl shook his head and dragged her out of the store as the Walker's shuffled frantically after them.

Shoving her into the passenger seat of the truck, he tossed the bag he'd been carrying into the back of it, before swinging onto his bike as Michonne hit the gas and tore out of the car park. In the hour long drive back to the prison, Daryl's anger continued to grow. When they got to the prison and he swung off his bike, his anger fairly shimmered around him as he stalked towards the truck. Beth stumbled out of the passenger side of the truck and they locked eyes for a second before she broke into a dead run; not towards the prison entrance as he had expected, but around the side and towards the library section. Daryl stalked past the driver's door, intent on following Beth and shouting at her as he hadn't been able to do before; he was forced to pause, however, when Michonne shoved her door open and he was confronted with a loaded gun. Michonne's eyes were glacial as she stared at him down the barrel of the Glock she held, and Daryl slowly raised his hands.

"You and me are gonna have a little chat."

Silence fell on the yard as the other's looked between Daryl and Michonne, and he nodded slowly as she slipped out of the truck. Michonne deliberately backed him up until they were a fair distance away, before she shook her head angrily.

"How could you?" she asked coldly. "And you were going to humiliate her even further, by bringing it up in front of all those people. Fuck, Daryl… she didn't know!"

Daryl's mouth opened and closed a few times as Michonne's chest heaved in pent up anger, and when he tilted his head in confusion, Michonne cocked her eyebrow.

"How… how the hell could she not know she was on her rag?" he exclaimed in disbelief, and Michonne scowled at the tone of his tone.

"It doesn't matter how she didn't know, Daryl," Michonne began, and then hissed out a breath when Daryl went to step passed her.

Daryl paused when Michonne muttered something unsavory under her breath about stubborn rednecks, and lifted his crossbow to his shoulder when Michonne finally looked back at him.

"I'm breaking her confidence here, Daryl," she muttered. "She didn't know, because she isn't used to getting one… she hasn't had one in over six months," she said finally.

Daryl shook his head and when Michonne threw her hands up in frustration, he shoved his hands through his hair and swore softly.

"Is that normal?" he asked finally, and Michonne shook her head as she finally tucked the gun into the back of her pants.

"No… lack of sleep and living on one small meal a day does that to you," she said in defeat.

Daryl jerked back a step in surprise, and then pointed his finger at her.

"We eat at least twice a day…the kids eat three times," he said in denial, and Michonne shook her head slowly.

"We might, Daryl… Beth doesn't. She makes sure that all the kids have plenty of food. Think about it…. how often do you see her eat? And I don't mean how often you see her feeding Judith while we eat. How much sleep a night do you think she gets? How often do you hear her pacing the cat walk with Judith, while that baby's father gets a solid six or seven hours? Look at how thin she is! Am I seriously the only one who saw this?" she asked in exasperation.

"She looks fine," he said slowly, and Michonne snickered as she raised an eyebrow.

"She hides it, Daryl, by layering her clothes. Baggy tops that hide how skinny she is. Her pants hide just how far her hipbones stick out by drawing the eye to the tears and rips across her thighs. That girl goes hungry far more often than people realise, and it fucked with her cycle. What happened today wasn't her fault, and you humiliated her."

Michonne shook her head and turned away from him. But as she walked away, she spoke quietly.

"Just leave her alone, Daryl. She already feels like she doesn't belong here, that she doesn't contribute. She already feels like a burden…. she doesn't need you adding to it, by shouting her personal business out in front of people."

XxXxXxX

Daryl didn't need Michonne telling him to leave Beth alone. Beth did a pretty good job at avoiding him as it was. For three days, he only caught glimpses of her as she disappeared into the distance. She avoided the library at all cost, and the one time he did see her, she was sitting with Michonne during the evening meal. The look on Michonne's face promised him a world of pain if he went near the young girl, and his frustration mounted as he was forced to sit on the opposite side of the room while Michonne alternated between watching him like a hawk and watching Beth slowly eat. It was during this meal that Daryl saw what Michonne had meant. For every bite of food Beth put in her mouth, she drank several swallows of water. It took him a ridiculously long time to figure it out, but he finally realized that she was filling up on water rather than food. And for every bite of food she took, she fed one to Judith off of her own plate. Michonne's whole attention was focused on Beth now, and Daryl watched as she leaned in toward Beth and spoke softly. Beth shook her head in answer to whatever Michonne had said, but when Michonne scowled, Beth finally began to eat properly. Guilt coated the inside of his mouth, and Daryl pushed his plate away and licked his fingers as his appetite fled.

People drifted away in groups, and when Rick asked him a question, Daryl glanced up at him momentarily to answer. When he looked back towards Beth, however, both she and Michonne were gone, and Carol was bouncing Judith on her knee. Rising to his feet, he caught a glimpse of Michonne as she walked outside and a flash of pale hair as Beth headed toward the opposite side of the prison. Even though he followed the direction she had taken, he still couldn't find her, and frustration burned through his blood like wildfire as he headed back for the council meeting. Several hours later, knowing that most people were either bunked down for the night or on watch duty, Daryl headed for the showers. He hated showering when other people were awake; it meant questions if they saw his scars, questions he couldn't – wouldn't – answer. Entering the shower block, he stopped still when he saw Beth. Wearing only a thin tank top and a pair of tattered shorts that hung below her hips, he finally saw what Michonne had meant.

He could see that she didn't have any excess flesh to spare. Her muscle tone was long and lean, and her hip bones stood out in sharp relief. And as Beth bent over to brush the underside of her hair, Daryl winced when he saw each and every bump of her spine. Not wanting to embarrass her any further, Daryl slipped away as silently as he had entered, and headed back towards the cells. Haunting the shadows near her cell, Daryl waited silently. But by the time Beth slipped through the stillness of the night nearly two hours later, Daryl had all but given up. She was carrying Judith who was fussing restlessly, and Daryl sighed as he watched Beth enter her cell and turn the lamp she had on. Making his way down the stairs on silent feet, he paused outside Beth's cell and watched as she lightly rocked Judith in her arms as she yawned widely. Fatigue haunted her delicate features; it carved out darkening shadows beneath her eyes, and in the flickering light of the lamp, she appeared fragile. He knew the exact moment she felt his presence, because she stiffened and become motionless.

"Hey."

It came out awkwardly, and Daryl rubbed a rough hand over the back of his neck as Beth slowly looked over her shoulder at him.

"Can I…?"

He gestures to the open door of her cell, and Beth shrugged as she shifted deeper into the room as Daryl hesitantly stepped inside. But by Beth moving, she moved out of the light of the lamp, and it threw her face and body into flickering shadow as she resumed rocking Judith. Leaning against the bunk that served as her bed, Daryl watched her silently. Her eyes appeared enormous in this strange light, and he wondered briefly if the colour of them had always looked like smoke, or if fatigue darkened them that way. Caught up in the way her eyes looked, Daryl almost shifted his weight to step closer so he could check. But Beth's eyes were lowering to the now sleeping baby she held, and the moment was broken as she turned to lower Judith into her crib. When she straightened back up, however, she turned and bumped straight into him in the tight confines of the corner. Caught between him and the wall, Beth lowered her chin. Daryl sighed softly as he reached past her to skim his fingertips over the cap of baby fine hair that covered Judith's head. With his eyes on the baby, Daryl spoke quietly.

"I ah… I wanted to…"

"I'm tired, Daryl. Can this wait?"

Beth's voice was whisper soft and void of any emotion as Daryl stepped away from the cot. It was that lack of emotion that he him looking at her though, and he reached out and palmed her elbow before he could change his mind. Beth didn't struggle, but he saw her chin jut out stubbornly as he tugged her outside the cell so that their voices wouldn't disturb Judith. Drawing her over to patch of weak moonlight, Daryl hissed out a breath when Beth pulled away from him and crossed her arms. But when he looked back at her face, he saw that it wasn't temper that had caused her to cross her arms; it was almost like she was shielding herself. Her shoulders were rounded slightly, and before his eyes, she seemed to shrink into herself. Daryl's lips parted, and his breath whistled out weakly. He knew this stance intimately; it was one he had taken whenever his father hit the bottle. And while he might not strike out with his fist, Daryl knew that Beth was unintentionally shielding herself from the emotional damage his words and temper might cause.

"Fuck…"

He breathed it out, and ran a shaking hand through his hair. A pale curtain of hair slid across Beth's cheek as she lowered her chin, and Daryl shoved his hands into his pockets as the silence between them grew thick with words unspoken. His fingers brushed against plastic, and Daryl vaguely remembered shoving the pot of lip stuff into his pocket before their run had gone to hell in a hand basket. Closing his hand around it, Daryl blew out a harsh breath and spoke quietly.

"Fuck…it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Beth shrugged in reply, and shifted her weight.

"Is that it?" she asked quietly, and Daryl tilted his head back in frustration.

"Yeah," he said finally, and then reached out to grab her hand.

Bath's eyes flew to his when he closed her fingers around the little pot; she looked like a startled rabbit, and Daryl shrugged as she slowly turned her hand over and glanced down at what he had handed her. But when she looked back up at him, Daryl's shoulders jerked uncomfortably.

"Saw you look at 'em," he muttered. "Didn't see why you couldn't have one."

Beth glanced down at the pot in her hand again, and tucked her hair behind her ear with one hand as she peered closely at the lid.

"Mango flavor," she said quietly, and then she tilted her head slightly as Daryl shifted on his feet.

He saw the exact moment she forgave him; knew it by the way the tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away. And in that weak light, he knew before she even moved what she was going to do. Her arms slipped around his waist, and her head once more came to rest against his chest. The warmth of her embrace seeped into him, and Daryl let out an unsteady breath as he finally lifted his own arms and wrapped them loosely around her. Closing his eyes, he simply lowered his chin to the crown of her head. Standing there, holding her and feeling just how thin she really was, Daryl unconsciously tightened his arms around her. Her hair was soft against his skin, and he breathed in the scent of soap and shampoo.

"I really am sorry, Beth."

It was mumbled, and Daryl felt her shift slightly as she curled into his embrace a little more. Her fingers plucked lightly at the wings on the back of his vest, and Daryl shifted his weight so that he was leaning against the wall. With Beth tucked securely against him, he barely heard her speak. But those softly spoken words soothed the tangled guilt inside him, and he closed his eyes again and lowered his cheek back to the top of her head in silence.

"Me too."