It seemed like it had been hours since Beth had climbed down from the tree, but she knew that wasn't possible. They hadn't said much to each other after that. Daryl had asked her if she was hungry. She said no. Daryl asked her if she was cold. She said no. He said he was going to make a fire anyways, and since then they'd just been staring sightlessly into the flames.

The silence stretched on between them like its own infinity. Beth wasn't sure what to say: Sorry I abandoned you or I wish you wouldn't worry about me or I don't want to be like this... none of them seemed to suffice. Daryl was sitting across from her, pressing his fingers into his temples, looking years older than this morning. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to talk, and then closed it again. Beth waited, and finally, he spoke.

"You ain't gotta talk about it," he said. "I can't make ya. And even if you did - I'm not your Pa or Maggie - don't know what good I would be."

Beth tilted her head at him in a curious fashion. He looked very upset and she couldn't tell if it was at her or at himself - or just the world. Christ knows she got upset about that often enough. When she thought about all she had lost and all she would never, could never, have... sometimes she wanted to burn it all down - not just a house - but the whole damn world.

"Y'mean it?" she asked softly.

"If that's what it's gonna take, Beth," he said. "I don't know what happened to ya, not exactly. That's your story to tell. It ain't my place to force you or ask ya a bunch of questions. I just can't take ya runnin' off on your own. It ain't right."

"I've been -"

"I know. You've been on your own. That's my fault; let me fix it. I can't do much, but I can do that at least," he said, cutting her off.

She could hear the guilt laced in his voice and felt bad. Beth knew that everyone back at the prison had leaned so hard on Daryl, expecting him to keep them safe, and come through in even the most impossible situations - and usually he had, against all odds. But eventually he'd been bound to lose. And that night... she had just been one of those cases.

"Daryl, no one can keep anyone safe. Not anymore," Beth said. "There was nothin' you could've done. With my hurt ankle and the walkers... I know you were tryin' to look out for me. Neither of us could've guessed..."

"At least... can you tell me... they dead?"

"Are who dead?" she asked sharply.

"The people who took ya," Daryl said, not looking at her; he busied himself with poking the smoldering log with a branch he had found.

"How do you -" she started.

"You wouldn'ta left me," he said. "You ain't the kind."

"Funny thing to say to a girl who just did exactly that."

"People do all kinds of things when they're spooked," Daryl said easily. He looked up at her with a new hardness in his eyes. "They dead, Beth?"

"One of them," she said quietly.

"Motherfucker," Daryl cursed under his breath. "How many were there?"

"What happened to not askin' a bunch of questions?" Beth countered.

"Beth..." he said warningly, as if he were about to scold or lecture her.

"There were three of them," Beth said quietly, "okay? Three men. One is dead. I don't know about the other two. Can you drop it now? Please?"

Beth swore she heard Daryl clench his jaw so hard his molars cracked. From across the fire she could see the clench and unclench of his fist. She drew into herself. Beth could feel the fury radiating off him and wanted to run. To be far away again. When he suddenly stood up, she couldn't help but to flinch.

"Where you goin'?" she asked.

"I'm gon' go kill somethin'," Daryl said frankly. "... to eat."

"Convincing," Beth said with a scoff. "Isn't it a little dark for that?"

"Then I'm gon' go kick the shit out of a walker - what you want me to say, girl?!" he shouted.

"Stop," Beth said, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry."

Immediately Daryl froze. It was amazing watching the fight drain out of him - like watching the Hulk turn back into regular ol' Bruce Banner. Slowly he walked over and crouched down in front of her so she only had to look up a few inches into his eyes.

"Shit, Beth, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to... y'know. I shouldn't have shouted. I told ya I ain't no good at this sort of thing."

"You're okay, Daryl Dixon," Beth said with a trembling smile.

"Yeah?" he asked. His hand reached out as if to touch a lock of her loose blond hair, but then pulled back at the last minute.

"Yeah."

"Y'hungry?" he asked, running the two words together as if they were one, unable to look directly at her.

For once Beth nodded. Daryl let a small smile cross his face. She thought it must feel nice for him, to finally be able to help her with something. That she was finally letting him help her with something. Beth wasn't even really all that hungry, but for some reason it had seemed inappropriate to say no.

When he opened his pack, Beth was surprised to see granola bars. When he handed one to her she looked at the label and then back to him, eyebrows raised.

"You said you didn't like rabbit," Daryl said.

"So you got me granola bars?" she asked.

"Maybe I just had 'em. You don't know," he said with an easy shrug.

She smiled softly to herself as she watched the man she could only describe as tough struggling to open the wrapper.

So that's where he had went.