A/N: Hi all! So if you've read any of my other work before, then you'll know this is probably the least amount of time that it's taken me to update a fic. My muse is strong with this one, haha. Thanks to all who reviewed, followed, and favorite last chapter, it made me happy! As always, I do not own The Walking Dead or Hamlet.

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World Chapter 3: Peaches

They'd been stuck in the trailer park for some time now, constantly hopping from one unit to another. Sometimes, they could hole up in one for a few days. Most of the time, they were lucky if their shelter lasted more than a few hours. As for sleeping through the night, it became nothing more than wishful thinking. Not that it was much of an issue for Beth, sleeping at all was enough of a challenge. Staying up and waiting for death, on the other hand, was a breeze.

"To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,

For in this sleep of death what dreams may come..." Mel Gibson's morose voice wafted through Beth's ears. A mere week before the outbreak, her English class had just finished reading Hamlet and as a "special treat", got to watch the movie. Throughout most of it, she hadn't paid much attention, using it as an excuse to text Jimmy under her desk. In truth, English had been one of her favorite subjects and she'd enjoyed Hamlet quite a bit. It was just at the time, texting her new boyfriend had been more important. She ended up getting her phone confiscated right at the "To be or not to be" scene and been forced to actually watch the film. Incidentally the scene, specifically that bit, had stuck with her. It was strange, that the quote would come back to her now, when the difference between living and dying could change in the blink of an eye. Sleep be damned, they all dreamt of death anyway.

"Shakespeare had it right," she muttered under her breath.

"What'dja say?" Daryl asked, making Beth nearly jump out of her skin.

"Jesus, you scared me!" She said, clutching her hand to her chest. Dammit! That's the second time he's done that, she thought bitterly as she tried to calm her breathing. She'd been writing in her diary, enjoying a brief moment of peace on the patch work sofa. Carol and T-dog were talking in the kitchen, Lori was napping in the bedroom, Hershel was teaching Carl a card trick, Daryl was keeping watch, while Rick and the others were out on a run. Well, at least he had been keeping watch until a few minutes ago. Beth hadn't even heard him come in.

"Well, you ain't exactly givin' me peace of mind talkin' to yourself like that, either." He said.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone was listening. I thought you were on watch?"

"T-dog took over, and it's fine."

"It was nothing important, just thinking out loud about Shakespeare is all."

"The play write?"

"You know who William Shakespeare is?" Beth asked.

"Don't look so surprised,"

"Sorry, it's just- I didn't think you, well, you know-"

"Graduated high school?"

"Yeah,"

"I didn't, in case you're wonderin', but I'd go from time to time."

"Oh. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven't either."

He shrugged.

"So- um, you went hunting this morning right?" She asked.

"Yeah," He said, relieved that she'd changed the topic.

"Catch anything good?" Beth nodded at his crossbow.

"Few squirrels, nothin' special." Daryl said.

"Eh, well at least it'll be fresh. I think that if I went the rest of my life without seeing a single can of expired green beans again, I'd be perfectly content." She joked. Much to her surprise, Daryl smirked.

"Girl, I hear ya." He chuckled, plopping down on an armchair. "Though, for me, it's them peaches"

"Really?"

"Yup, never liked 'em much. Too sweet."

"Oh not for me, I just love them! Back at the farm, there was this orchard about a mile away. We used to go peach picking there all the time before- well, you know. Anyway, my mom would make me, Maggie, and Shawn go down there constantly and bring her back as many as we could carry. Once Maggie got her license it got a lot easier, mind you. When we'd bring them home, she'd start makin' all kinds of stuff. Peach pie, peach tea, peach salad, can 'em, dry 'em. You know, the works."

"And you never got sick of 'em?"

"Never, Mom was always real good at getting' creative in the kitchen. Suppose that's why Daddy married her after his first wife died."

"Hershel was married before?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, Josephine died when Maggie was 5. Hit 'n run. Damn near broke my Daddy. You know how he used to be an alcoholic, right? Well he'd been thinkin' about takin' the drink back up when he met my mom, Annette at an AA meeting. They got talkin' and one thing led to another pretty quickly. 'Course she was about 20 or so years younger than him, but that didn't matter none and they got married within a year. I came along shortly after. Daddy always says that she was his light at the end of the tunnel, the flame in the darkness. Basically, what got him through the worst point in his life…I'm rambling aren't I?"

"Lil' bit,"

"Sorry about that. Seems like as soon as I get talkin' about my mom, I can't stop." Beth said, looking down at her hands, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment.

"Nah, its fine."

"I just miss her, I guess."

"It's understandable. She-um seems like she was a real good lady," Daryl offered awkwardly.

"Thanks, she was…can I ask you a question?"

He shrugged, fiddling with his crossbow.

"Who do you miss?" She asked hesitantly. Daryl didn't answer. Instead, it was almost as if a switch had been flicked and made him tense up; like he was about to take on a walker. He grabbed his bow and got up out of the chair.

"I gotta clean the squirrels," He said coldly.

"I didn't mean to offend you or-"

"Just drop it, Beth!" He snapped. This wasn't the first time she'd seen him angry, but never had his wrath been directed at her.

"I was just-"

"What're you doin'? Tryin' to be buds? Tryin' to get me to tell you my life story like some shrink? You don't know me! I ain't your brother. I ain't your friend. You're just some dumb girl, livin' in the past."

His words stung like a slap in the face. Beth felt tears welling in her eyes as she took in everything he was saying.

"What you gonna cry now? Go ahead, no skin off my back."

The tears were really stinging now, but Beth didn't dare let any fall. She was not about to give him the satisfaction. How dare he? All she'd done was shown a bit of sympathy and he nearly bit her head off. Maybe her first impression was right, he was mean old bastard and nothing more. Making her decision, Beth got off the sofa. She squared her shoulders and glared at him dead in the eye.

"You know what? Fine, be a jerk, I don't care. Have fun with your squirrels 'cause you just lost yourself a friend." She said.

"Fine by me, Princess." He said.

Without a second glance, Beth stormed out and ran towards the bathroom. As soon as she rounded the corner, the tears she'd been desperately trying to hold in sprang forth and she just cried. Cried for her mother. Cried for her home. Cried for what Daryl said. For that moment, she cried for just about everything. As Beth fell apart, she never heard the muffled "fuck," coming from the living room.

A/N: Ah yes, here comes the angst and anger. Yeah, I kinda made Daryl an ass, but I have a reason for it! Remember at the start of season 3 when Hershel asks Beth to sing and she and Daryl have a kinda weird eye contact moment, like there was some under-lying tension there?... Yeah. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Please make sure to leave a review, even if you hated it! I love hearing your thoughts and so far they've definitely been making me write faster!