A/N: Here we are. Apologies again for taking so long with this. I hope this chapter makes up for it. And remember to look out for little hints of the next huge plot of this story!

A Case of the Blues: Chapter 17

The sun slipped through the curtains in a think bar of light, illuminating the dust particles floating above them. Daryl squinted and pulled the curtain shut with a grunt.

It had been three weeks since the incident with Jimmy. He was behind bars, and Beth was his girl. Daryl's movements had caused her eyelids to flutter. Her breath was warm against his skin.

"Mornin'," she grumbled. Sleep lined her voice and, whenever she awoke, he thought she sounded more southern than ever.

"Hey sleepin' beauty."

She smiled up at him and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, tracing her jawline in the process.

Beth slowly dragged herself away from his glance and sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting her arms into the air she stretched and sighed. Daryl watched her; thinking she was nothing but a pure angel.

Standing up, she reached down for the shirt he wore yesterday. Buttoning it across her chest and sliding on a fresh pair of panties, she turned to face him. Daryl's eyes raked over her body and she could swear she heard the faintest of growls come from the back of his throat.

"Hey, dirty old man, my eyes are up here," she teased, pointing at her face. He looked up at her and blushed. She poked her tongue out at him.

"I'm making breakfast. You want any?"

"You are my breakfast," he whispered, his eyes travelling lower once again.

She simply shook her head; the faintest of smirks on her face. "See you downstairs, lover boy."

Heading downstairs, she made her way towards the kitchen when she heard a panicked knock at the front door.

She paused. Who would be knocking this early?

Another knock. "Merle?" She asked loudly. "That you?"

"Nah doll," she heard from Merle's room upstairs. The knocking continued, getting louder and harder and more frantic by the second.

"Daryl! Fuckin' open the door!"

She'd know that voice anywhere. Rick Grimes.

Beth cautiously hurried over to the door and cracked it open, peeking her head round. "Rick?"

"Beth, is Daryl inside? I gotta speak to him, it's urgent."

"I'll uh, I'll go grab him. Come in."

She quickly ran away from the door and hurried up the stairs in her rather revealing clothing. Opening the bedroom door, she was met with Daryl already up and dressed, about to head downstairs.

"Did I hear Rick down there?" He asked her, concern lining his face. She nodded.

Daryl walked past her and headed downstairs. Beth busied herself with showering and dressing properly.

He walked downstairs whilst buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt.

"Rick. Whaddya need?"

"You seen the news this morning?"

Daryl just shook his head.

"Look."

Rick picked up their television remote and pushed the power button. The chaos that Daryl was met with shocked him.

There was fire, screaming, guns, bombs and panic. He could barely hear the reporters voice, but he managed to determine four words – the dead are walking.

Daryl looked from the television to Rick, his thoughts running away with themselves. "This has gotta be a hoax, right?"

Rick didn't remove his eyes from the screen, but shook his head. "No. Saw one for myself."

"Wait, so 'yer tellin' me that dead people are wakin' up an' attackin' the livin'?! This is bullshit, gotta be a hoax Rick," Daryl said, almost trying to convince himself.

This time, Rick looked Daryl directly in the eyes. "I know what I saw."

A/N: Short chapter, I apologise. It's something. This is the introduction to what's going to be happening.. If I can manage it. Here's to the future of this story! Yay! Please review and leave your thoughts on this idea.