Over the next few weeks my time was consumed by the frequent group talks Rick insisted were too important for me to miss and wasting my time training Beth Greene. Our relationship had inched its way towards friendship during our two hour sessions and she was more open to me now, though our arguments were still frequent. Our most recent bust up came when I told her to do an extra lap for her training that day and she had to look after Lil Ass Kicker.
"Carol can handle her." I had been sat against the wall as I ensured she did her laps, her skin was peppered with glistening beads of sweat and the loose pieces of hair she usually left hanging were plastered to her temples.
"Maybe I wanna look after her." The kid had a mouth on her too, making me ache for the days where I only looked in her direction and she would scurry away.
"Tough shit." I spat on the ground beside me and nodded at her to keep running, but she stood where she was, hands on her hips.
"I thought we were okay." She had frowned, reminding me of the apprehensive girl she had once been, uncertain and nervous. I chewed the inside of my cheek and stood up. The top of her head came to shoulder and she had to crane her neck slightly to look up at me.
"An' what? You wanted to best friends an' make daisy chains?" I watched her swallow her retort and jog off to do her final lap and I allowed myself to savour the sweet sense of victory.
Afterwards, I took her inside to have breakfast and she complained the entire way that the extra lap I gave her had made her stomach implode in famine and I'd silenced her by informing her she didn't know what hunger was, creating an icy atmosphere between us. Rolling my eyes I left her at the entrance of the cell block to sit at my own table to enjoy my breakfast in beautiful silence, but to my annoyance she stood beside me, hovering like some bug that needed to be swatted.
"You want somethin', Greene?" I kept my eyes on my bowl of porridge to reinforce that our conversation was over.
"Zach's friends keep glarin' at me." She whispered as she shuffled from foot to foot. "Come on Daryl, please." I felt her eyes dart about and grimaced at the people beginning to stare.
Desperate to avoid the glares I moved my crossbow from the seat next to me and allowed her to sit. We ate in silence until I put my finger in my mouth to suck off some of the breakfast that had spilled from my spoon and onto my hand.
"Why do you do that?" Her voice was soft as her blue doe eyes focussed on me, feeling a flush crawl up my neck I cleared my throat and wiped my finger on my trousers.
"You get more flavour, don't ya?" I murmured, boring holes into my bowl from embarrassment. "Merle used t'do it."
Our table went silent for a moment as I slipped into the memories of my childhood I had tried so desperately to repress.
"Merle, give it back!" A boy of around six years of age with shaggy brown hair chases a boy at least four years older than him through a broken down shack. The walls are half painted and there are floor boards that threaten to jut out at uneven angles. The elder boy, Merle, has cropped blond hair which he appears to have cut himself, his clothes are dirty but appear to have been hastily scrubbed in an attempt to make them appear clean. In his left hand he holds an ice cream that belongs to the younger boy which has begun to melt and has dripped down his hand, creating mint green and chocolate brown swirls that fill the gaps between his fingers. Finally, he relents and passes the cone to the little boy.
"Come on, Darlena, this is the best part!" Merle yells in delight as he sucks the mess from his fingers.
"My name's Daryl, not Darlena!" Daryl pouts, though his eyes are transfixed as he watches the elder boy suck his fingers clean. "Why do you do that?" He grimaces as Merle's fingers glisten with saliva.
"It tastes better, don't it baby brother?" Merle chuckles and ruffles his younger brother's hair, prompting Daryl to tentatively dip his finger into the mushy remains of his ice cream.
Examining the mess on his finger, Daryl pops it into his mouth and sucks enthusiastically, trying to imitate his brother. His eyes light up as he beams at Merle, grinning in wonder.
"Merle, you were right! It tastes … It tastes like …" Daryl's eyebrows knot in confusion as his limited vocabulary prohibits him from saying what he means.
"Sweeter, don't it? You get more flavour! Your big brother Merle-" Merle's moment of celebration is cut short by a deep voice that bellows from the stairs above them:
"What are you shits screamin' about?!" Boot clad feet stamp down the stairs, drawing closer to the two boys.
Daryl scurries behind his big brother, who holds an arm out protectively; nothing in the world will harm his baby brother.
Something cold reached out and held my hand gently, catching me off guard.
Paranoid she had somehow witnessed the memory I had just recalled I stood with a start, tearing my hand from hers as I stormed out of the room with my crossbow in hand. I needed a fucking cigarette.
"Looks like you're just as messed up as me, huh?" I was sat in the guard tower, taking on an extra watch just incase those punks who jumped me the other day came back. Not that I thought they would, they were too organised to just attack a well guarded prison and that's if they even found the prison, though I imagined it wouldn't have been that hard considering how close the bus had crashed. Rick had pushed the idea of extra watches forward, so there I was when Carl made his entrance.
"Guess so, Sheriff." I nodded slightly at his hat as I took a drag from the cigarette I had currently lit. Runnin' out … Better get more soon. I reminded myself. You'd think the end of the world would kick a bad habit like that, but old habits refuse to die out it seemed.
"You gonna tell me what happened back there?" Carl perched himself next to me and held out his hand for a drag.
"Nothin' happened back there." I grunted and just watched his outstretched hand, an incredulous look in my eye. "Your daddy would kill me."
The atmosphere turned cold at the mention of Rick and the look in Carl's eyes burned a hatred deeper than I would have given a kid his age credit for. I sighed softly and hoisted myself up onto the railing of the watchtower, nodding for him to join me.
"He's a good man." I took a sideways glance at Carl who just stared at the floor beneath him, which had suddenly became very interesting to him. "'Aint nothin' like my old man." I smirked softly and looked out at the desolate wasteland that surrounded the prison, I'd often thought about what the place looked like before all this shit happened.
"He let my Mom die." Carl's reply was laced with venom and as I looked at him I noticed his jaw was clenched tight, the kid really hated his Pa.
"Hey! Your Daddy loved her. You know tha' better than anyone." I prodded his arm gently and he sighed and just looked at me, a look of confusion in his eye that had completely replaced the previous hatred.
"Like you love Carol?"
I spluttered and faced him, face distorted in an expression of horror. Carol meant more to me than anyone in this world, but love her? No, not in a long shot.
"N'aw I don't love Carol, care abou' her an awful lot though." I nodded, those words sounded right on my tongue. They conveyed the exact feelings I had for her. Sophia's daddy had never cared about her, much like mine had never cared for me. Weren't no way I was letting that kid die without a proper search.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, until a truck made its way to the gates. It was once a metallic black, but months of driving through wet dirt and rain water had turned the paint a murky brown that reminded me of dried blood, a sign that warned bad fortune.
"Go get your daddy … Keep your head down." I nodded at Carl who ducked his head low and jogged down the steps.
Crossbow trained on the target and my senses in overdrive I watched the vehicle slowly make its way to the gates that had been hastily held up after one of the Governor's pricks had smashed straight through. I tore my eyes off the car for a minute to see small dots pouring out of the cell block. I ticked them off silently: Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Michone, Tyreese, Carol and … Beth? The hell were they thinking bringing her out here? There was no way she was trained for hostile living people, she was too weak and too innocent. Killing a man would weigh her down for months, surely her daddy knew that? Or perhaps he didn't have a choice …
I spotted her bow in her hands and was reassured to see she had taken my advice to poke holes around the waist of her trousers to easily access arrows seeing as she was without a quiver. I had not been wasting my time training this girl for her to get killed in a shootout. She might be able to take down a few guys, but she was too slow with her aim … Something I had been planning on fixing.
A man I'd never seen before stepped out of the car with hands raised in surrender, but for a fleeting second I was convinced he was The Governor. My vision blurred with anger as I thought of him, thought of Merle, thought of Andrea, thought of all the people he had killed.
"I don't come to cause you harm." The voice rang out, but he was too far from the walkers to catch their attention. "I got a request to make, please."
"Who are you?" Rick stepped out from his cover hesitantly with his gun poised and ready to shoot if needed. "Why are you here?" Some people we had accepted from Woodbury had been milling about, but the sight of the car had frozen them in their tracks.
"My name is Joe and our group … Our group was attacked. We went out looking for them this morning and … We found a bus not too far from here overturned and filled with the undead. We want to know if you knew anything about it." On closer inspection Joe had greying hair that hung in limp strands around his face, he was wearing a black leather jacket and a knife rested on his waistband.
"You … You were attacked too?" Rick lowered his weapon slightly, taken aback. Put your gun up, Rick … "Where?"
"Down yonder." Joe swept his hand, motioning to somewhere beyond the trees. "We'd real appreciate if you let us in, our base is … Gone. We brought all we could …! Food, weapons, clean clothes…"
Rick's head turned to me. Since renouncing his leadership he'd never been the one to make a sole decision. I shook my head slightly, but it seemed as though he had anticipated my answer. He turned to look at the rest. More people nodded than those who shook their heads. Stupid. Rick slowly made his way down to the gates with Tyreese and Glenn, allowing the newbies car to drive in.
The day was spent by the others welcoming the newcomers, I didn't bother learning their names. If I had anything to do with it they wouldn't be staying long. I went to find Carol, hand't spoke to her for a while with her looking after Lil Ass Kicker and me prepping her friend for 'war'.
"You've been avoiding her." Carol spoke before I had even entered the room and I knew straight away she was talking about Beth. Couldn't someone give me a fucking break? I exhaled deeply and went inside her cell.
"'Aint got no reason to." I leant back against the wall, left leg crossed over the right and my arms folded.
"I thought you two were getting along okay." She faced me as she folded some clothes, her eyes filled with disappointment and I averted her gaze, feeling ashamed.
"We were…" I grumbled slightly. But then I remembered how much of a fuck up I am. I wanted to add, but stopped. Weren't gonna be having no conversation like that with Carol.
"Daryl Dixon, stop being a child." She smirked slightly and glanced at me mischievously.
Flustered, I unfolded my arms and rolled my eyes. "I 'aint no child!" I glared at her, before skulking back against the wall and looking away.
"Alright then, petulant teenager." I opened my mouth to reply, but she carried on speaking, not giving me a chance to defend myself. "I notice the way she looks at you now. She admires you. And if you ask me, you don't want her to see you the way you see yourself. I saw that look in your eyes at breakfast this morning and I know you were in a bad place." I detected a hint of sadness in her voice, as though I'd cut myself off to hurt her specifically.
"That 'aint it." I shrugged it off, though that was exactly what it was. I liked that Beth and I could talk, but there weren't a way on this earth I was letting her get close. I valued Beth's innocence and I'd only ruin that by burdening my daddy issues on her, something she didn't need.
"Then go and talk to her, what's the problem?" She shrugged softly.
"I'm the problem." I smiled sadly at her and left.
That evening I made my way to the watch tower and found Beth waiting for me.
"Not today, Greene." I turned on my heel and made my way downstairs, but her hand on my shoulder stopped me.
"Why won't you talk to me? I thought we were friends." She looked intently at me, waiting for a response. The innocence in her eyes killed me and I sighed softly before sitting beside her, was this how she got her daddy to relent to me training her?
"You know how t'guilt trip, doe eyes." I shook my head softly and chuckled at the smile that spread over her lips.
"I just wanna know what's up with you." Though it was dark her figure was illuminated perfectly and her hair looked almost silver in the moonlight that cascaded down her back. It was the first time I'd seen her hair down and I realised it was full of soft curls that somehow, even in the apocalypse, managed to frame her face impeccably.
"You din't even wanna speak t'me three weeks ago."
"Well it's different now."
"Different how?" I frowned slightly. Our conversation was quick as though we already knew what the other was going to say.
"I don't know, I can actually stand the sight of you." She smiled playfully and tucked her knees to her chin.
"Real smooth." I stared out at the dark sky and felt her hand rest over mine.
"I'm not much of a good person, not like my daddy, but I'm a good listener." Her voice was delicate and reminded me of a flower petal that swayed in a summer breeze.
"I'm sure you are, Petal." The nickname had sounded a lot better in my head. "It's just … Your voice is always soft an' reminds me of summer an' …" I trailed off, thankful for the darkness as the blush on my face would have been clear for her to see.
"Petal. I like it." She squeezed my hand slightly tighter. In any other circumstance I would have shoved her away, but tonight felt different, it felt like comfort..
We sat in silence for what felt like hours, her hand over mine the whole time. I'd never even felt this close with Carol and it just seemed that Beth was this entity of good feeling in this fucking dump of a world.
"I thought of my pa." I closed my eyes, though I was fairly certain Beth couldn't see me because it had grown so dark. "Thought of Merle an' me." I hadn't said a lot, but she seemed to understand. "I don't wanna turn out like my pa." I said so softly I could barely hear, but she had.
"So what if you do?"
"I'd be worse than what I am now." I stared at the sky, my voice a hushed whisper. "I 'aint even able t'remember the last time I was sad." I sighed deeply.
"Maybe not, but you felt a lotta different feelin's since then." Her statement confused me, apart from rage there wasn't anything else I'd felt. "You felt guilty about not bringin' those boys home. The ones you took scavengin'? It takes a lot more to feel guilt than it does to feel sad." I turned to face her and was shocked to find a lone tear trickle down her cheek.
"Why're you cryin'?" My lack of empathy was evident in that moment despite my soft voice that was filled with both confusion and concern.
"Because it breaks my heart to see someone like you treat yourself the way you do." Her voice was barely a whisper, as though she had breathed the words rather than said them.
"I treat myself just fine."
"No … You're a good man Daryl Dixon and good men don't deserve self loathing." Beth leaned forward and softly kissed my cheek before retiring to her cell, leaving me with my fingertips stroking the spot where her warm lips had been.
AN - Sorry this chapter was meant to go up yesterday, but I swear I edited it about four different times before settling on this one! I feel like their friendship would evolve quickly as Beth is quite an affectionate person and Daryl is the type of guy that needs a hug.