Authors note

I thought I'd post another update to the story tonight as I got way more views that I thought I would after only a few hours! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please review and follow!

18/03 - This chapter has been reworked slightly

Mila

Daryl groaned and clutched his head, he blindly fumbled for his pillow and smacked it down over the side of his head. His cell was on the second floor of the prison, but he could still hear the infernal racket from the ground floor, people were yelling and making a lot of unnecessary noise. After a few minutes of hopelessly trying to get back to sleep Daryl gave up, throwing the pillow on the floor angrily, he hauled himself out of bed and yanked his t shirt on. He always slept in his trousers, his boots unlaced – waiting – by the side of his bunk, he was always prepared for a sudden awakening, but today it seemed people were just being loud for the sake of it.

He grumbled under his breath, tidying his boots and pulling his crossbow onto his shoulder, he wore a scowl upon his face as he stalked down the hallway and down the metal staircase.

"What's with all the goddamn noise? It's early, can't you people let me sleep?" He yelled, swinging around the corner to the location of the racket. The prison folk were gathered around a table, their cheerfulness disrupted by Daryl's shouting, they all turned to look at him as he entered the room.

"Daryl," Carol hissed, staring at him, the disappointment laced on her pretty features, arms folded across her chest.

He looked around the room and scowled, "What?" It took him a moment before he realized that Beth was seated at the round, metal table, it was littered with newspaper and small objects. She glanced at him and met his eye, she looked saddened by his reaction.

"It's Beth's birthday," Rick stated, "We're up early, rather than...letting you sleep, 'cause we care,"

All the staring was making Daryl uncomfortable, "What?" he snapped, "I don't care about birthdays, why's she so special?" He spat out, crossing the room to the prison door, opened it and made sure to slam it hard behind him.

Beth sat at the table, everyone was still silent, not knowing what to say or do after Daryl's unnecessary outburst, Carl was poking at a piece of newspaper on the floor with his foot, she looked away, trying not to let the tears fall from her eyes. Some birthday this was, her eighteenth ruined by an asshole redneck.

"M'sorry Beth," Rick said, breaking the silence, before he could finish his sentence, Beth jumped up and ran back to her cell, the pent up tears escaping from her eyes in embarrassment and upset, her cries echoing in the silent halls.

"You get him here, you get him here right now!" Maggie shouted, slamming her hand against the table, "How could he do that?"

Carol sighed and touched Maggie's hand, "I'll speak to her," she smiled sadly before gathering up Beth's presents in an intact sheet of paper and following to her cell.

Carl was uncomfortable with the situation and gathered up the discarded paper, muttering something about recycling, before slipping out of the door. Once it shut behind him he heard all hell break loose, the adults were obviously waiting until the younger folk had left the room before shouting about what had happened. Carl sighed, he spotted Michonne staring across the courtyard at him, she'd heard the commotion as well, he disposing of the discarded newspaper onto the floor and jogged over to her watchtower.

The metal steps clanged underneath his feet as he ran up the stairs, "I need your help," he said once he had reached the top.

Michonne stood, hand on her hip, the other touching the handle of her katana, "What's happened?"

Carl slumped down to the floor, taking off his hat and holding it in his hands "Where's Daryl?"

She leaned against the railing glancing around the perimeter of the fencing, there were not many walkers at the prison today, thankfully. During her free time the previous day, she'd gone and stabbed several dozen of 'em with her katana, pest control she'd called it. Ridding the world of walker-scum, one by one. "The red-neck practically ran to his damn motorbike a few minutes ago, kicked the floor pretty hard first though. I think it hurt him. He seemed pretty pissed off when I went to let him out. Why?" She smirked.

"It's Beth's birthday,"

"I know, what's that gotta do with Daryl?" Michonne said with an air of sarcasm in her voice.

"He shouted at everyone for wakin' him up, Beth ran off cryin'" Carl smacked his hat down on the floor in frustration, Michonne raised her eyebrow in response, clearly amused by the young boy.

"I'll have a word with him, now g'wan get back in there," She said softly, prodding Carl's leg with her foot, "See if they formin' a lynch mob yet,"

The day passed by without any more disruptions, Carol had managed to lure Beth back out of her cell and to the table again, Rick had presented her with a tinned can of pudding as a attempt at a birthday cake, she'd laughed and hugged him in appreciation. They had sung birthday songs and Hershel had told stories about Beth before the outbreak, tearing up a little bit as he said that she wasn't his little girl so much any more. Everyone enjoyed themselves, and after a few hours it was business as usual, Michonne and Tyreese – who were on guard duty most of that morning gave their best wishes to Beth as they swapped with Glen and Sasha. She appreciated all of the fuss that the group had made for her birthday, they didn't have to she thought, they barely knew her. Before all of this happened she would have spent her birthday with her Mom, Daddy and the rest of the family back at her beautiful farm, she would have ridden Nelly around the fields and would have had a birthday cake with candles and beautiful presents. Who'd have known a year ago that she'd be spending it in a prison, with a bunch of practically-strangers in the midst of the end of the world.

She noticed at dinner, that Daryl still hadn't come back inside the prison, Carl said he left hours ago and that he was angry when Michonne saw him. She wasn't surprised at his reaction, she was just hurt that he'd ruined her day and not cared. She liked Daryl though, he had a heart of gold beneath that stone-cold exterior, she'd seen the way he looked at Carol's little girl when she came out of that barn. His heart broke and she'd saw it.

It was late when chaos erupted at the prison again, Beth was sat in Carl's room helping him look after lil' baby Judith when she'd heard the low growl of Daryl's motorbike, she'd tried to ignore it – continuing talking to Carl about what she knew about babies – her limited knowledge that she'd been taught in home economics at high school, but he'd heard it too. He placed his hand over Beth's as she rocked his baby sister in her arms, he'd seen the pallor wash over her face. A loud slam made the pair jump, the yelling followed immediately.

"You and me gon' talk Daryl," Michonne shouted.

"No we ain't. Just git off my back," He yelled in response, something metal clanged against the floor. He must have kicked over one of the chairs or somethin'

A cell on the ground floor slammed open, "Daryl, enough!" It was Rick, it voice was irritable, Beth and Carl could hear his boots hitting against the stone floor as he stormed out.

"Fuck off the lot of 'ya. Where is she then?" He shouted, "Beth! Beth git here!"

She froze, tears welling up in her blue eyes for the second time that day. Carl snaked an arm around her waist, resting his cheek on her shoulder, Judith had fallen asleep despite the noise and was curled up in Beth's arms, her face was so peaceful Carl thought, what a home for a baby to grow up in. There was never gon' be a chance of sleepin' through the night when an angry redneck kept yellin'

"Leave her alone," Carol's voice snapped. Daryl's response was muted by Michonne shouting again.

Heavy footsteps slammed against the staircase to the second floor, Carl prayed that Daryl didn't come bargin' in, wakin' Judith up and yellin' at Beth. His shadow fell against the dark interior of Carl's cell, luckily he continued further down the hall, the prison fell silent – the shouting had stopped, Carl thought that perhaps – luckily – everyone had decided to stay out of it now. He squeezed Beth's shoulder as sobs rocked her tiny body.

After a few minutes Daryl stormed back up the walkway, this time a little less loud, however his quiet cursing persisted. His shadow passed Carl's dark cell again, seemingly unaware of the pair sat silently inside.

"I'm takin' watch now, tell Rick he's on next,"

The reply was too quiet for the pair to hear, Michonne and Rick had abandoned the confrontation going back to their cells before Daryl returned. The metal door creaked before banging shut, signalling his departure.

"I'm gon' go bed now," Beth whispered, pulling the sleeping baby up against her chest, "I'll see 'ya in the mornin'. Thanks for this,"

Carl smiled as she quietly left the cell.

Beth laid Judith down as gently as she could into her cot, it had taken her a while to develop a maternal instinct towards the youngster, Rick was too distracted to take any real care of her and all the other women in the prison were always out or on duty, so the role of surrogate mommy was left to her, she didn't mind really. It wasn't like there was a chance that she'd have children of her own any time soon, so the bond between herself and the little baby was comforting in a way.

She went to pull her t-shirt over her head but was distracted by a small object on her bed, frowning she picked it up to check it over. It was a small ball of white paper – small smears of dirt all over it, but it was tied together by a shoelace. She smiled, thinking that maybe it was a late present off of one of the others. She tugged at the lace and the package fell apart onto her bunk, a small silver locket fell onto the drab sheets, it looked nearly new. Frowning she flattened the paper out against the bed, there was scruffy and unintelligible handwriting strewn across it -

Sory

Hapy burtday

x

She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. A smile crept across her soft features. Daryl.

Daryl stood in the watch tower, his head was resting against his closed fist as he leaned against the railing. He was a stupid son of a bitch for doin' that. He didn't mean to upset the girl, or react the way he did, he'd felt a pang of guilt as he spied her face in the group, saddened by what had occurred. After the commotion he'd left the prison and skulked away towards his precious bike, anger coursed through his veins. Without warning he viciously kicked at the floor with his foot, wincing as the pain spread up his leg, hissing through his teeth he continued his bee-line towards the exit.

He'd heard a soft laugh in the silence of the morning, swinging around he glared up at the owner of said voice, Michonne had seen everything. "You gon' let me out then?" She'd responded with a sarcastic salute before heading towards him. She'd opened the gate at his request, making a comment about his 'attitude problem' before slamming it shut behind him. He'd ignored her and headed off to find Beth something to apologize with.

A small silver locked, he'd found it in a abandoned shop – well out of the way of anywhere, he didn't know what to get her, she was a girl – girl's liked jewellery he figured. Not that he knew anything about the opposite sex, at all.

Michonne's smug sarcasm of that morning was more preferable than her reaction when he'd returned hours later. She stormed behind him as he reached the prison doors, shouting and hurling all sorts of abuse at him, he didn't care though – he just wanted to give her the present and leave again. She wasn't in her cell though and a confrontation with Michonne, Rick and Carol – the latter two finding backbones for once, did not improve his mood. He wished he hadn't have written anything on the paper now, she must now thing he was a real uneducated hick, he'd done high school, not very much of it though, once Merle began his reign of terror against the teachers and enrolled on Daryl to assist his cruel games, all hopes of an education left, the Dixon brothers had become the teachers' horror story to tell to naughty kids about what would happen if they didn't do all their homework and arrived on time. He may not exactly be book smart or could spell that well, but he knew enough about what he needed to. A smirk crossed his hard features as he thought about his teachers, they thought he was a lost cause that was never gon' do any good, he'd proved 'em all wrong by being one of the only sons of bitches surviving the god damn zombie apocalypse.

Deep in his thoughts he watched out over the pitch black night, well after midnight he thought, chain smoking to keep himself alert, the harsh nicotine hit cooled his temper down and brought his thoughts around to being more rational for once. Rick would take over in a few hours and would allow him to get some rest, he knew he had to calm his mind before then or he wouldn't get any sleep, and they had a supply run to go on tomorrow, wouldn't do anyone any good if he fell asleep whilst ridin', it'd be just his luck - survive the zombie apocalypse, die of fatigue.

"Thank you,"

Daryl jumped out of his skin for the second time in 24 hours, his gaze snapped up to meet that of Beth Greene's. She had a small smile on her face, she was dressed in small white shorts and her yellow t-shirt, she'd been heading to bed when she'd found his present then. He dragged his eyes away from her and clutched the side of the wall with one hand.

"Y'welcome," He grumbled back, his fingers unclenching from the handle of his cross-bow to join the other. God damned women needed to stop sneaking up on him or he was gon' end up shooting one of 'em.

She took a few steps towards him before pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled cheek, he flinched at the sensation of her touch "Means 'a lot," she whispered, turning on her heel and retreating from the tower.

Daryl's heart pounded against his ribcage when Beth kissed him, her soft lips a shocking contrast to his rough unshaven skin, he could smell her perfume as she'd leaned in, her soft blonde hair brushing against his arm. From what was a platonic gesture of thanks, Daryl's mind raced as he struggled to control his heart rate. It took all of his might to not turn and take one last glance at her as she retreated.