AN: Brace yourselves.

"Y'sick, girl?" Daryl asked awkwardly.

He had found Beth in the backyard, bent at the waist with last night's squirrel and beans at her feet. Her shoulders were heaving in a way that he was all too familiar with after a night of drinking - her stomach was empty, but her body hadn't gotten the message and was still trying to rid itself of whatever was ailing her. Beth turned to him, pale face, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.

"What gave it away?" she asked irritably.

"The vomit," Daryl said flatly. "Y'comin' down with the flu, y'think?"

"I don't know."

Daryl strode over to her and had his hand pressed against her forehead before he had processed the thought to do it. Her blue eyes flashed up at him as she shifted awkwardly on her feet. Daryl tried to smile at her, but had a feeling it came out as more of a worried grimace.

"Y'don't feel hot," he said. "Y'done? Y'should be inside. I can get ya a bucket or somethin'."

"Great," Beth muttered to herself.

"Beats spewing up on the floor," Daryl said.

Beth rolled her eyes tiredly and let him lead her back inside. The pair walked slowly, with her leaning heavily against him. When they reached the stairs Daryl picked her up without asking; it reminded him of when she had hurt her ankle - before all the hurt and pain had gotten heaped onto her.

When he set her down in the bed, she immediately curled into a ball, knees brought up to her chest. After checking she would be okay, Daryl took off to grab her a bucket, just in case. She had told him she didn't think she would be throwing up again, but as little as it would bother Daryl to clean up her mess, he knew Beth would probably die of embarrassment.

She was asleep by the Daryl had come back. Being sick had a way of doin' that to a person. He sat the bucket down near the head of the bed, and stood awkwardly, watching her. Daryl couldn't help but to wonder if she had felt this panicked when he was sick. He was already planning a run into town. To get medicine. Trying to think of a way to make sure she was protected here on her own; knew that no idea would be good enough.

Damn it, Beth, Daryl thought, can't y'ever catch a break?

Over the next week Beth didn't get any worse, but she also didn't get any better. He didn't know how to handle it. Beth would be sick for a little while, then insist she felt fine. She didn't listen when he told her to rest - wouldn't stay in bed - demanded he let her pull her weight, even if it was just small jobs, until the flu passed.

Sometimes he caught her staring out the kitchen window. Beth's eyes had a far-away look, like she was somewhere deep inside her mind that he couldn't follow. That no one could follow. That she had locked the door to so tightly. Daryl always asked her what she was thinkin' of, but she'd only give a tight smile, and say, nothin'.

That night Beth ate lightly, picking at her food - probably thinking she would be seeing it again tomorrow. Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fight off a headache. He had been arguing with himself about the run into town, telling himself if she wasn't better by now, he would have to go. And now, here they were, with Beth no better, and he was still reluctant to leave her by herself.

"I was thinkin'," Daryl said, "'bout doin' a run. Tryin' to find some medicine. Somethin'."

"Okay," Beth said hurriedly. "When are we goin'?"

"We aren't going," Daryl said harshly. "You're sick. You need to rest."

"Oh, no you don't, Daryl Dixon," Beth said, eyes whipping up to glare at him. "I'm comin' and you can't stop me."

"Beth, damn it," he all but growled at her, "can't you see that it ain't a good idea for you to be out right now? What if we get attacked and you're too busy pukin' your guts out to do anythin'?"

"I can take care of myself. A little stomach bug isn't going to stop me. I've been through worse. A lot worse."

"I know," Daryl said. "But there's no need for you to put yourself at risk -"

"But I should just let you go, by yourself?" Beth said with a humorless laugh. "You can either take me with you, or you can wait out my flu just like I am."

"Y'sure? Y'sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yes."

"Fine," Daryl groused. "Damn it, girl, how do you always get me into these situations?"

Daryl caught Beth looking at the building where she had been held captive. Shit. This town was the only place close to the house, and the truck was runnin' low on gas. He hadn't had a choice. Daryl put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. Up ahead, a walker was staggering between abandoned cars, having spotted them.

"Let's go," he said quietly.

Beth had her knife pulled and walked behind Daryl. When they had to move past the walker, Daryl shot it, and stopped to retrieve his bow. They walked down another street, and the next, picking off walkers one by one until they reached a pharmacy.

"Your flashlight still got batteries?" Daryl asked her, turning his on.

"Uh huh," Beth responded, following in suit.

The windows of the store were broken, but steel bars had been put in place, stopping anyone from entering. The door, however, was broken off - the bars removed. Daryl stopped for a minute to listen but heard nothing inside. He nodded at Beth to follow him.

"So, we'll take whatever we can use," Daryl said. "Place has already been hit a couple times, so we'll see what we come up with."

"I was thinkin'," Beth said in a small voice, "that I might go check out the, uh, feminine aisle."

"Uh..." Daryl responded. "You'll be alright?"

"I've got my knife and my street smarts," Beth said jokingly.

"Fine," Daryl relented. "I'm gonna be hitting the back for a while. Doubt any of the good stuff is left, but it's worth a look."

Daryl left her, headed towards the back of the store. He quelled his anxiety at leaving her unattended; she could handle herself. He had to let her handle herself. She's fine, he assured himself. Behind the counter he found a stray bottle of penicillin, and some pain medication. He shoved both into his pack. He found Tylenol, Advil, and band-aids in the first aisle. In the next, he found Gravol, and flu remidies. He took as many as he could fit into his pack, trying not to think about his good fortune - feeling deep down whenever somethin' this good happened, it came at a cost.

Suddenly there was a crash. Daryl was off towards the sound before it had even finished. By the time he reached Beth, he saw her standing there, above a knocked over shelf. Around her was a sea of boxes: First Response, Answer, Clearblue, Accu-clear, U-Check Pregnancy Test.

Daryl looked up at her slowly. Beth had a box clenched in her hand - a box that matched one of the many on the floor. Suddenly, it all clicked. Her sickness, her tiredness, her moods lately. Beth looked away, then back at him, that back at the floor.

"I - I was just - I knocked them over - I was picking them up," Beth stuttered.

"Beth..." Daryl said softly. "You're -"

She started crying.