A/N: Yay! Glad you guys enjoyed last chapter! Hope you all are having a great weekend! Thanks again for the reviews and followers! It means a lot.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The church was the first place they came across since they started out on their supply run. Rick and Daryl were not too optimistic about it, figuring the only thing they would find were bibles and empty benches. Beth, Tara and Michonne however, were interested to find out what was inside. Even if there wasn't any food, they believed they could at least find something that would be beneficial for them.

Daryl was the first to cave in and agree to check it out, leaving Rick as the odd man out. So they snuck soundlessly towards the building with their weapons drawn, prepared for anything that might happen along the way. When they did reach the front doors, Daryl instantly noticed the scratches on the walls outside the church. Without a word he pointed at them just before he raised his crossbow up to his face, aiming around the area in case something popped out.

Gripping her sword tighter, Michonne cautiously sidestepped over beside the door that was left ajar and peeked inside. The windows were boarded up, so the room was left blanketed in darkness. She looked over to the rest of the group and shrugged. It wasn't until she noticed Rick nod at her did she slowly open the door. The hinges creaked loudly with every inch, creating wrinkles of worry in Michonne's face.

Close behind her were Rick, Beth and Tara who were already pointing their guns through the door while Daryl continued to keep watch around the perimeter of the church. Figuring no living person was inside; Rick pursed his lips and blew out a soft, quick whistle to attract any walkers that may be lurking in the building. When no groans or growls replied to the sound, Rick gave the O.K. to go in.

When the five of them entered, there was nothing much worth their time at first glance. However, as they cautiously walked further inside, Tara noticed a bunch of empty tin cans lined up along the back wall.

"Someone's been living here," Tara pointed out as she reached the banister by the podium and scanned the room further.

"Maybe we should go," Beth said right after, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation.

Rick shook his head as he walked past Tara by a back door. "Not yet, there are still a couple of rooms I want to check out," he replied as he began to call out to anyone that may also be in the church. He decided now that they were there; they might as well scope the place out completely. "Hello! Is anyone here?"

Silence was his only response. Grabbing the doorknob, Rick slowly turned it as he held his gun in his other hand. As soon as the door clicked, he swung it open and quickly aimed his weapon around the room. All it contained was a bed and some shelves filled with books.

"There's nothin'," Rick said as he turned around.

"Maybe not in that room, but there is in this one," Daryl explained as a smirk creased his lips.

Rick narrowed his brow as he walked over to Daryl who stood at the other door. "What's it got?"

Michonne snuck a look before Rick, and she too began to smile. "There's a lot of canned food in here, more than enough to sustain us for at least a couple weeks."

Beth shook her head in disbelief. "We're not gonna take it, are we? I mean…it belongs to someone else."

Rick looked at Beth carefully and reassuringly. "Beth, you've seen our stash. We're running dry. Whoever is living here has been doin' well for themselves. We won't take it all, just enough t'—to get us by for a day or so."

Beth took a deep breath and released a heavy, drawn-out sigh as Daryl regarded her. "This is no differen' between here and the funeral home," he pointed out, speaking softly to her. Their quarrel from earlier was obviously already forgotten about. "You know we need this. Like Rick said, we won't take it all, alright?"

Beth looked down at her feet, knowing he was right and yet still felt guilty with what they were about to do. "It doesn't make it any better, but alright…"

It took them several minutes to gather up all of the food in a couple of bags, and Beth figured they took at least half of it. When Daryl picked up a jar of pigs feet and held it out in front of him, he glanced at her with this impressive side smirk on his face. It was his way of reminiscing about the funeral home while also trying to make her feel better. Beth understood that, and she let out an unexpected chuckle within her breaths, unable to hold it in.

Daryl bit his bottom lip as he looked back down at the jar and placed it in a bag, attempting as best he could not to look at her as he had neglected to remember how much her smile warmed him. The last thing he needed was to get distracted. It weakened him whenever Beth smiled and the way her cheeks shaped when she did, because for that split second it made the whole world feel completely normal. It helped him forget about the hell they lived in every day, but how? He couldn't understand how she influenced him so much. She was that light at the end of the tunnel that he was desperate and yet so scared to reach. Daryl was more accustomed to the darkness, he became comfortable in it. He didn't know how to be if he decided to step out.

Then suddenly, the sound of a door slamming shut made Daryl lose track of his thoughts entirely. Without hesitation, the five of them spun around while wielding their weapons and then exited the room to notice a man wearing a preacher's suit who was standing at the entrance of the church. He was breathing deeply from exhaustion, and the moment he noticed the five strangers across from him on the other side of the room, his eyes widened with more fear than he had when he first entered.

"Who are you people? What are you doing here?" The preacher asked quickly, his back was pressed firmly against the door.

Rick cocked his head with uncertainty, but continued to remain calm. "You left your door open. Who we are is irrelevant."

The preacher shook his head as he looked down at his feet. "You shouldn't be here."

Daryl analyzed the man's demeanor. His body was trembling as he glued himself to the door in certain shock, and a layer of sweat covered the top of his bald head. When Daryl scanned his left hand, he noticed blood trickling off into a pool of blood on the floor.

Shooting his eyes back up to meet the preacher's, Daryl snarled at him with angry suspicion. "What's wrong with you?"

"N—nothing," the preacher stumbled on his words as his face twitched.

Rick cocked his revolver and pointed it again at the man in front of them. "Are you bit?"

The preacher slowly looked up to regard Rick. "I was ambushed. I tried to get away but—" the man held back his next few words and thought for a moment, unsure if he should say the truth but figured there was no point to hide it. "Inevitably yes, I was bit. Are you g—going to shoot me?"

Rick gritted his teeth as he kept his aim on the preacher, but before he could speak, the sudden sounds of fists began banging on the walls from the outside.

"You led them here?!" Rick yelled furiously as he darted glances with his eyes around the room until they met back at the man.

"I didn't know you people would be here!" The preacher shouted back, his eyes filling with water.

"Shit!" Daryl said just before he looked over at Beth, only to find that she had already been looking at him with uneasiness.

Michonne sprinted over to the preacher so that she was only a few feet away, suspecting that there was no reason for the man to be dangerous as he was already on his death bed. "Is there another way out?"

The man glanced around the room for a moment, seeming to have lost his train of thought until he finally looked at Michonne in the eyes. His voice had now carried little to no emotion, almost like he was not really there. "There is a—a hatch on the floor in one of the back rooms. There's a crawl space down below. There's an exit there, I'll show you." As the preacher made his way over to the room with the bed, the others followed right behind him.

"Your food," Beth began, feeling guiltier than before as she and Tara still held the bags of his canned goods in their hands. She unknowingly reached her arms out to give them back to him.

Before the preacher could walk past the threshold, he stopped to face the blonde and looked down at the bag and then her concerned expressions. As upset as he could have been about his food getting stolen, under the circumstances he was in now he didn't even care. "Keep it…I assume I won't have much use for them anymore."

As Beth was unable to say another word due to feeling utterly sorry for him, the preacher turned back to the room and opened the hatch in the floor, instantly forgetting about her and the cans as he explained where exactly the exit was down below. Without hesitation, Michonne crawled in first, followed by Daryl, Beth and Tara. Rick waited, feeling like he had to ask the man something before he could leave.

"Did you want to come with us?" He asked when he regarded the preacher one last time before joining the rest of the group, "Maybe you'd be able to pass away more peacefully."

The man shook his head as he replied weakly, already feeling the infection plaguing his body and mind. "No, I'd only s—slow you all down. I want to stay with…with the church."

Rick nodded in acceptance, knowing that perhaps resting in the chapel would be much more comfortable instead of running. "What's yer name?"

The preacher breathed in deeply before he spoke, feeling an odd sensation hover over him, wondering if there was any point to his name anymore. "Gabrielle."

"I'm Rick," he replied earnestly. "I'm sorry for everythin' that happened to you Father Gabrielle. I thank you for helping us get out…and the food," Rick said sincerely as he placed his hand on the man's shoulder just before he began to enter the crawl space.

"Don't be, it was my time," Gabrielle retorted as he stared at the last living person he would ever see, yet still feeling lost and disoriented.

"Shut this behind me," Rick said, referring to the hatch door.

He took once last look at Gabrielle and nodded a goodbye before ducking under the floor boards, putting his hands and knees on the dirt below. A moment after, he heard the door shut above him. Looking ahead through the darkness, he could see shadowy figures of his group crawling towards a thin light from outside that shined through the wall, greeting them warmly.

When they all crowded around the exit, they listened carefully to hear if there were any stragglers shuffling about the side of the church. Sure enough, a couple of faint moans from unaware walkers hung around close by. Beth's body shook nervously and Daryl noticed this instantly. Taking out his hand, he offered to take her bag of food and she accepted.

"Okay listen up," Rick began, whispering as quietly as he could. "As soon as we push open this wall, we'll have to make a run for it through the trees and back to the road. Kill any walker that gets in your way. We stay together, alright?"

Michonne and the others nodded with confidence and fear while holding their breaths as Rick advanced. With some force, he pushed open the miniature door and light cascaded through the opening. One by one they crawled out into the open, inescapably catching the attention of a few walkers that suddenly snarled from the unexpected presence of fresh meat. They mindlessly changed their direction in a fumbling manner, creeping their way slowly towards their prey with eyes piercing with hunger like a pack of rabid wolves. The deprivation in their gestures was unmistakable.

It was no coincidence that Beth stuck close to Daryl as they began to tread lightly across the grass, zig-zagging their way through the few walkers blocking their path. A couple of the dead were struck down; their brains meeting the cool steel of sharp blades penetrating their tender, rotting flesh. It seemed that their exit plan was working as the remainder of the walkers were still crowding the church doors. However, just as hope began to present itself, a sudden, agonizing scream bellowed behind Beth; Daryl; Rick and Michonne, startling them and causing their hearts to drop.

Spinning around on their heels, Beth and the others witnessed Tara in the arms of a one eyed walker, tearing the flesh and tendons away from her right shoulder. Rick bolted in a fast sprint towards her direction, swinging his arm and aiming his machete right in the walker's temple. He wrapped Tara's arm around his shoulders, helping her move forward throughout the hysteria of what just occurred before more walkers arrived. Blood was all over Tara's arm and also splattered on her neck and jaw.

Before Beth could follow the group who were already on their way, she spotted the bag of canned food in the corner of her eye that Tara was holding but had unavoidably dropped when a pair of rotten teeth sunk deep into her flesh. Beth wasn't going to let it go to waste, especially when she knew their group needed it.

"The food!" Beth called out, making sure the others were aware of what she was about to do in case they moved too far ahead of her.

Daryl turned around to see Beth facing the other direction several feet away. It a matter of a split second, his eyes darted from her to the bag laying on the ground and spotted a couple more walkers inching closer nearby, knowing all too well what she intended on doing. His stomach churned with worry.

"Forget the damn food!" Daryl yelled back frustratingly, but to his dismay she glanced at him over her shoulder with this firm, compelling look of determination. The loose, golden strands of her ponytail tickled her cheek.

Beth turned around afterward, making no hesitation as she darted towards her objective. She could hear Daryl and Michonne scream her name, but she didn't stop. Whether her actions were stupid or not, she felt she had to do this. When she finally reached her hand out for the bag, one of the walkers lunged forward with its arms straight out, just missing her as she was able to side-step around it. Seeing this as her window of opportunity, she quickly stabbed the walker in the back of the head before it had a chance to try again. After turning around to retrieve the bag, the second walker that she had unfortunately forgotten about appeared right in her face, snarling and growling as it grabbed her shoulders.

Before Beth had a chance to counter the attack, the walker was instantly torn off of her by Daryl with Michonne right behind him for back up, causing it to stumble to the ground. Without any thought, he quickly bent forward with his knife in hand and finished it off. Beth stood still, paralyzed with shock as Daryl snatched the food and clutched her wrist, pulling her and passing one of the bags to Michonne as they headed back to the group. With what happened to Tara and the incident with Beth, it certainly caused commotion and unwanted attention from the twenty or so walkers back at the front of the church.

"We gotta move, NOW!" Rick ordered. His voice was deep with utter concern as he spotted the large group of walkers heading their way.

Despite being bitten, Tara was strong and unafraid; understanding what was going to happen to her but also wanted everyone to get back safely. They only ran for a few seconds before she stopped and let go of Rick, no longer wanting to be a liability. Michonne and the others looked at her in puzzlement.

"You don't have to support me," Tara explained while holding the bandana against her wound that Daryl ended up giving her. "Maybe I shouldn't come with you guys. I could distract the walkers and lead them away."

Michonne shook her head. "You're staying with us. There's no need for you to be out here on your own."

"Michonne's right," Rick agreed, anxiously eyeing the walkers that were slowly shambling towards them. "We'll have no problem losin' the herd if we take a longer route back. You may have been bit but you're still one of us. Like I said, we stick together."

Tara nodded sluggishly as she tightened the grip on her arm, wincing from the pain. "Okay."

. . .

The entire trip back Daryl was furious with Beth, but he kept the anger that stewed up inside of him to himself. Detecting this, Beth struggled to exchange a few words with him, but he disregarded her couple attempts to communicate. Daryl had a lot of things he wanted to say, firstly to tell her how reckless and irresponsible she was for her own well-being, especially after what happened to Tara. Beth's life was more important than the food, and they could have found some more elsewhere.

By the time they finally reached the cabin and were rid of the walkers, the sun was already setting further behind the trees as it made its last farewell to the late afternoon. The short bus that Glenn and the others were repairing was now towering in front of the cabin where they could hear voices and faint laughter coming from inside. Rick puffed out a melancholy sigh of relief as exhaustion plunged over him and the others. It had certainly been a long day and they were all in need of a good sleep, particularly Tara who had appeared to be waning in health as the day carried on.

Walking towards the entrance of the cabin with who she thought was the whole group, Beth made a second glance over her shoulder thinking she saw a shadow move past her. Sure enough, she spotted Daryl taking unnecessary strides as he made his way further down the road after quickly handing the bag of food he was carrying to Rick. Beth rolled her eyes and sighed as she stopped in her place, debating on if she should go after him. She despised unresolved problems, and by the time Rick; Tara and Michonne entered the cabin, she finally decided she was going after him.

"Hey, Dixon!" Beth whispered sharply after him when she figured she was close enough for him to hear her. "Chasing after you seems to be a pattern for us lately."

No response.

"Daryl?" She asked more calmly yet still strewed with annoyance as she began walking beside him. "What's wrong?"

When Beth still received no answer, she placed her hand on his arm and he stopped walking immediately. She could now see that his chest was rising and falling a little quicker than usual.

"You almost got bit today," Daryl replied. His voice carried no expression.

"I had to get the food—" Beth began to explain as she tried to look past the dark hair that covered his face, but was quickly interrupted.

"Why?" Daryl snapped his question at her as he shot a look in her direction; his anger was finally evident in his tone. "You didn't need to play hero and grab that bag of food. That shit wasn't worth it!"

"We needed it, have you seen our supplies?" Beth asked with her index finger pointing stiffly towards the cabin, perplexed by his attitude and slightly annoyed that he wasn't more proud of what she did. Thinking back, she knew full well how many times Daryl and other people in their group made risky choices but for good reasons. Why was this any different?

"Don't matter," Daryl replied frustratingly. "Last thing I wanna see is you gettin' yourself bit like Tara—or worse. That's what's goin' to happen if you keep makin' foolish decisions like you did today."

Beth shrugged as she tried to stay calm. "I don't see anythin' foolish about it. You might think it was not worth it but I think it was."

"Whatever," Daryl said as he threw his hands up in the air as a sign of defeat. "I'm goin' out, don't bother followin'."

Beth crossed her arms as she watched the man with the crossbow turn on his heels, carelessly continuing his way down the road. She had a thought to just let him go, but then a sudden spark of stubbornness surged through her. She was not going to let the day end this way.

"Why are you so upset, Daryl?" Beth questioned, her words escaped through her mouth in a joyless tone as he stopped in his tracks but didn't reply. "I mean I get why you were worried, but I'm not your liability. I have a right to choose what I want to risk my life for just like everyone else. You're not my father."

Daryl chewed his bottom lip as he felt her presence just daring him to turn around. He wanted to get mad, he wanted to prove his point, but the more he stood there thinking about what she said, the more he realized how true it was. Beth's now grown up, and she wanted to prove her worth without feeling smothered. He had been coddling her lately; feeling like it was his job to keep her safe. Yet he wondered to himself why that was such a bad thing.

Daryl turned round finally, barely making out Beth's features in the shadows. "You're right, I'm not Hershel. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

"No!" Beth replied rather abruptly, almost regretting what she just said as his words sounded less angry and more disappointed. "That's not what I meant or what I want. I just don't want you gettin' angry with me over my own life choices…" she paused for a moment, half hoping for a reaction but mostly just figuring out what to say next. "Besides…I'd miss your company if you left me alone."

Daryl felt his lip tug, and he was thankful the darkness had concealed it. He adored what she said, not only because it was from Beth, but because he never really heard anyone genuinely say they would miss him. "I guess that's why I've been so protective."

Beth knitted her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Daryl shrugged, feeling like he should bite his tongue. However, the silence between them grew and so did her patience. "You were right…about what you said at the cabin that we burned down."

Beth's mind raced around as she thought back about their conversations, until she finally realized what he was getting at. "That you'd—that you'd miss me when I was gone?" Beth could barely say the sentence right as she stuttered with her words.

"Mmh," Daryl made a sound under his breath as if to agree, but a surge of anxiety flowed through him. He'd much rather be facing a heard of walkers right now than spilling out his inner thoughts, but the blonde had a way of getting it out of him.

Beth paused for a moment, thinking back on something she learned a few years ago that had somehow stayed with her in her memory. "In French, you don't really say 'I miss you.' You say 'tu me manques,' which is closer to 'you are missing from me.'"

Daryl cocked his head as he listened, unsure about what she was going to explain.

"I love that," Beth continued and repeated as she looked down to her feet, "'You are missing from me.' It's like saying you are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood; I cannot function without you." She looked up at Daryl and he was staring right back. Her heart fluttered. "I would miss you too Daryl...if you were gone."

Daryl gulped and then cleared his throat, finding a loss for words. He fidgeted with his crossbow that hung over his back as he would so often do. He wondered if Beth was subtly trying to tell him that he was all of those things to her. If that was the case, Daryl could relate to what Beth had said, as he was feeling closer to her as each day passed. The closer he got, the more he felt he needed to protect her. It couldn't be helped as he was only going by instinct. Daryl might not be Beth's father, but he certainly was something more than Rick or the others, excluding Maggie of course. That 'something' terrified him, but also gave him hope and strength—and something greater to fight for.

Beth didn't really know what to say next, but what she noticed was the fluttering feeling in her chest. She decided not to question him any further as she felt it was perfect to end the conversation right where it was—before Daryl got too uncomfortable. She instantly regretted the ideas she had in her head the night before. The thought of kissing him was not outrageous or a momentary lapse in judgement. Beth didn't care about their age difference, or the fact that they were two completely different people. She didn't doubt the elation that soared inside her. Beth found herself falling for the redneck and his stubbornness, and she was completely O.K with that.

"Come on," Beth said as she turned to her side, her braid slid off of her shoulder. "Let's go back to the cabin."

Daryl took a few steps towards her, relieved that she didn't question him further. "I'll walk you back, but I'm gonna stay out for a bit longer."

Beth smiled weakly as he finally walked up beside her. "Deal."