All I Ever Will Be

Chapter Two - Uncertainty

And again, the same dream - Daryl ran through trees and brush, stumbling over his own feet, away from the low moans and shrieks that rang in his ears. The forest was never-ending, the sun disappearing from his view. His body was moving too slowly, legs feeling like lead as he willed himself to run faster. They were on his heels, shrieking maniacally behind him and he turned his head, regretting it instantly but unable to turn away. There they were - Dale, Andrea, Hershel, Lori, Sophia - all of the dead he had come to care for, rotting as they ran towards him, flesh peeling off, revealing their bones beneath.

Their presence was imminent, but one was closer - he was always closer to him than the others - Merle. Daryl could feel his breath on his neck muttering, "Little brother," over and over again. His face was gray and gaunt, the smell of death surrounding him. There was no life left behind his eyes and even in his dream, Daryl knew it was impossible for him to be speaking, but still, he ran.

Daryl's heart dropped as he felt Merle's arms reach out and grab him, knocking him to the ground slowly. He was on top of him, his body heavy and strong, teeth clashing together, eager for a taste of him.

"Stop!" Daryl cried out, pushing him away, but it was no use. He reached to his back for his bow, but it was nowhere to be found. "No!" he screamed, covering his face as they surrounded him, lowering themselves to his open flesh. "No!"

"Daryl!"

Daryl jolted awake, covered in cold sweat. Beth was standing behind his seat, her hand touching his shoulder apprehensively.

"Daryl?" she asked, sounding concerned. He must have been yelling in his sleep. Shit. "Are you okay?" she asked, bringing her face closer to his, examining him.

"Mmm?" he grunted, running his hand through his hair, feeling uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" Beth asked, looking at him quizzically. "You were..." she hesitated, "yelling."

"I said I'm fine." It came out meaner than he meant it. "Just a bad dream is all. Quit your worryin'."

Beth held her hands up and retreated. "Okay Daryl," she said with a sigh, turning away. She thought for a moment, then turned back to him. "You know, it's okay to let your guard down sometimes. I'm not gonna bite."

"Pfft," Daryl said, stretching in the seat. "We let our guards down back there and look what good that did us!" he said. "We can't be doing that again."

"Doin' what?" Beth said, sound annoyed. "We didn't do anything wrong back there. It ain't a crime to think things can be good." She came past him, sitting in the passenger seat, rifling through one of the plastic boxes.

Daryl thought to himself, knowing she was right, but unable to shake the feeling of guilt. He watched her as she hastily shoved a few granola bars into her backpack. She was frustrated with him, there was no doubt about it and he felt pretty shitty about it. She looked up at him, flustered, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Anxiety swept over him, his heart racing involuntarily as their eyes met and he tried to shake it away. It was a confusing feeling, but he'd felt it before - at the funeral home in the coffin, listening to Beth sing, and again when she'd held his hand. A strange sensation in his belly, like he was falling and his stomach was trying to keep up.

"Nothin'," Daryl finally answered, "I just wanna get us somewhere safe. Don't want you thinkin' we're outta harms way."

Beth scoffed at him, pulling her backpack over her shoulders. "I'm not stupid Daryl," she said angrily. "I just haven't given up hope. Let's get goin'."

Daryl gazed at her as she pulled her knife from its holster on her hip and gripped it tightly in her hand. She carefully unlocked the door and slid out, disappearing from his view. He wondered how she constantly found it in herself to have all this hope. She'd led a much nicer life than Daryl ever had, even up to this point, in this world. Still, it was hard for him to understand how she wasn't falling apart.

Beth's face popped into the doorway of the truck. "You comin'?" she asked impatiently.

"Jesus woman," Daryl said, opening his door. "Where's the fire?"

He grabbed his crossbow and jumped out of the driver's seat just as Beth made it around the front of the truck. She'd re-tied her hair, pulling the loose strands away from her face. Daryl could finally see her bright blue eyes clearly, sparkling in the sunshine.

She glared at him, her hand on her hip, sweat already forming on her forehead from the heat of the day. "I reckon we should follow the road," was all she said, before turning on her heel and starting to walk along it. Daryl wasn't sure if he should answer or not, so he kept his mouth shut and followed her.

They'd been walking in silence for a few hours, before Beth pulled off her backpack and drifted off from the road to sit in the shade of the trees. He joined her, sitting an arms length away from her on the grass. She rummaged through her bag, pulling out two granola bars. She handed one to Daryl and he accepted it.

"Thanks," he mumbled, tearing open the packaging.

"I'm sorry," she responded. It was a strange reply, so he looked at her curiously, shoving the bar into his mouth. It tasted terrible.

"Why?" he asked.

"For being angry with you before." She shrugged. "I know you're just tryin' to be realistic. I know I'm stupid for havin' all this hope, thinkin' we might find somethin' good, but I can't help it. It's all that keeps me goin'." She sounded sad. "I'm not built for this world."

"Stop," Daryl demanded. "Don't apologize Beth. You ain't stupid for havin' hope. Maybe I'm stupid for not havin' any." He turned his head to look at her and saw that she was watching him intently, hanging on his words. "It ain't always a good thing to be built for this kind of life."

"It is when you're tryin' to survive," Beth said, looking down at the granola bar she'd barely bitten in to.

"Well, you got me." He had no idea if it was comforting or not, but she seemed to accept it, taking a few more bites of her food.

Beth felt like she'd been walking for years since they'd sat in the grass and eaten. Her legs were sore, her body was sweaty and she was frustrated they hadn't come across any sort of shelter for miles now. The only good part of the emptiness was the lack of walkers they'd come across.

Conversation with Daryl had gotten easier since she'd apologized. So far she'd found out that he'd had a job at a mechanic's shop before getting caught up in all of Merle's stuff, fixing cars and bikes. He'd lost himself in talking about it so that Beth listened to him discuss his love of motorcycles for the good part of an hour. She'd understood only half of what he'd been saying, but she didn't mind. She liked listening to him talk.

She'd broken through a barrier she didn't think many people had gotten through with Daryl and it was satisfying, to say the least. Beth had been slightly taken aback by Daryl when he'd first gotten to the farm. He was rough and kept to himself - quick to anger and frustration. As time wore on though, the good parts about him shone through. He was loyal and smart and at times, extremely caring, especially when it came to their group. He was admired at the prison, Beth knew that all too well. He was a provider. A survivor. A fighter. She was glad to be with him, despite their circumstances.

"You got a favorite song?" Beth asked him, feeling inquisitive.

Daryl looked at her. "Why? You thinkin' of singin' again?"

"Just curious," she said, looking at her feet as they walked.

"I guess," he said slowly. "It'd be Simple Man."

"Lynyrd Skynyrd?"

"Mmhm," he nodded.

"Good one," she said. "Mama told me when I was young, Come sit beside me, my only son, And listen closely to what I say, And if you do this it'll help you some sunny day," she sang without thinking, swaying to the melody she'd created.

"Thought you weren't singin'?" Daryl questioned, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Beth shrugged. "I can stop if you'd like."

"No," Daryl said. "Don't."

So she didn't. She sang as they walked, alternating between songs her and Daryl chose. It was a nice break to the silence, something different than talking about what was coming, what could hurt them, what they'd lost. It was something good. Maybe she was finally getting to him.

The sun was getting low in the sky, starting to disappear behind the trees, night threatening its onset. Beth paused, putting her hands just above her knees, feeling winded. They hadn't been walking fast at all, their pace had been steady for hours, but her body was just about done after only being held upright by a few granola bars. "What's the plan?" she asked. "I'm ready for a rest."

Daryl stopped in his tracks, swinging his crossbow loosely in his right arm. "You know damn well I don't have a plan," he said, not looking at her. "If we don't find something by nightfall, we'll have to camp outside again."

Beth groaned, looking at the sky - it was getting darker by the minute. She didn't want to have to camp out in the open, but it seemed to be their only option at the moment. "We might want to start looking for something now," she said, defeated. "Nightfall isn't too far off."

Without waiting for him to respond, she started for the trees. It was the same landscape they'd come through after the funeral home - miles of trees beyond them with no end in sight. In an attempt to be productive, Beth bent down to collect some branches to use for a fire.

She sensed Daryl behind her, his footsteps quiet as he moved. He was sort of graceful in a way - he was a hunter by nature and his ability to be so stealthy was impressive. She was aware of her footsteps now, sounding loud on the sticks and dead grass beneath her feet - definitely not as covert as Daryl was.

Then, without warning, the ground disappeared beneath her feet and she stumbled, falling, crashing into very solid ground with a loud yell that came from her own mouth. Dirt clouds rose around her, filling her throat and her nostrils, seeping into her eyelids, blinding her momentarily.

"Beth?" she heard Daryl somewhere above her. "BETH?" he called out, more urgently.

"I'm here," she coughed. Her vision cleared and she took in the surroundings - bare, dirt walls, rising about a foot or so above her head. As she got to her feet, she felt a little bruised up, but nothing unmanageable.

"Where?" she heard Daryl say. He sounded panicked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I fell - there's a hole. Watch your step." She looked up from where she was, the trees looking massive and the sky looking even farther away, a rich lavender color now. She pushed her back up against the wall of the hole and reached behind her, feeling some sort of wood. She turned and came face to face with a small door.

Daryl's voice came from behind her. "Come on, grab my hand and I'll pull you out," he said. She looked at him, on his belly, reaching his hands into the hole after her.

"You gotta come down here," she said.

Daryl looked at her, confused. "You bump your head?" he asked. "Grab my hands."

"Daryl," she said, feeling crazy. "There's a door here." She paused, then looked up at him again. "I think this is some kind of underground bunker."