Daryl's trip was taking longer than Beth had anticipated as she sat alone in that house, unsure of what to do. She feared that something was expected of her. She wasn't a fool. Her role as "wife" meant that she would have to be completely submissive to whatever Daryl wanted of her...or from her. The problem was Beth had no idea what that was yet. She couldn't imagine how any woman could live like this. She never imagined that she would end up living like those women she use to learn about in her history and literature classes from before the fall. But now, with modern civilization nearly vanquished and humanity on the verge of extinction, her role in the world was now taking many steps backwards.

She really wanted to make the best of a bad situation but in this place, it seemed impossible. Her first attempt was to try and do some cleaning. If Beth was going to be stuck here, she might as well make it easier on herself. She focused on a little bit at a time, cleaning out the broken glass bottles that were carelessly scattered all over the place. It took a lot of patience on her part to not try and cut herself in the process, but there was just far too much to deal with.

By the time Daryl had returned, it was late afternoon. Much of the broken glass was gone, but Daryl didn't seem to take notice...either that or he didn't seem to care. He had brought back a dead rabbit and was already skinning it and cooking the meat. "Um...where's your bathroom?" Beth had already discovered the small wooden closet that connected to Merle's room but it seemed like the plumbing had been taken out a long time ago. So she had no idea what the room was even for.

"Use to have an outhouse 'round back...till Merle burned it." He saw Beth get up and realizing her intention, he picked up and gave her one of his hunting knives. "You might want to keep that. Can't be too careful." Beth reluctantly took the knife and walked around the back of the shack. She saw several buckets and containers along the back wall now filled up with water from last night's rain. Not to far away she could see the charred remains of where the outhouse once was. There were plenty of trees and bushes though.

When she returned, Daryl gave her a plate as he did that morning and they ate in silence.

It was apparent that the situation was now becoming routine within the following days. Daryl was gone for most of the day, either hunting or some other form of business in the woods, while Beth spent most of the time trying to clean the godforsaken mess around her or be left pondering her own thoughts. And before and after that, a quiet meal of cooked squirrel...a taste she still struggled to accustom herself to. But the routine was becoming a struggle. No matter how hard she cleaned, she was unable to remove some of the bad smells still lost somewhere in the shack. Without an actual shower, Beth had to drag water buckets into the house so she could take sponge baths in that empty rotting closet. She found herself taking one almost every day given the condition of the place.

With their only other company being the wildlife or the nearby walkers, how could she be expected to bring up a child in an environment like this?

All the while, she and Daryl rarely exchanged words in the limited time they spent together. Sometimes, he would act like she wasn't there. Other times he was aware but didn't seem to take much heed or concern. He would cook for her and then they'd go their separate ways. Lonely as Beth was, she knew that Daryl's rare company didn't make much of a difference.

Over a week since she had been here, there was uncertainty as to whether or not she could keep her sanity together. "'Need your help with somethin'"

She almost didn't believe he was talking to her. "What?"

"On my hunt," he said, stuffing his breakfast squirrel into his mouth. "Gotta bring something big back. Ain't gonna be able to carry it alone."

"Is that it?"

Daryl shrugged. "Yeah. Why?"

Beth shook her head. "Nothin'."

Once they headed out, they were greeted by the massive fog that surrounded their dwelling once more. It didn't seem to phase Daryl having lived here for a very long time and knowing his way around. Beth however, couldn't tell one branch from another and made sure to keep up with the sight of Daryl. In her constant effort to keep up, she kept tripping on things that didn't feel natural. And it seemed that they were traveling a long ways. Daryl seemed frustrated by his inability to locate any of the creatures that he was was hunting for.

"Can I ask you something?" Beth hoped the question was not breaking his focus on his mission. He wasn't even looking at her. "What?"

"Why do you live around here?"

To her surprise, Daryl stopped and turned to look at her with a disgruntled look. "Why's it matter?"

"It doesn't," she said trying to get defensive. "I was just asking why you live so far away from the settlements. They have a lot of empty houses and you don't need to pay much of anything for them."

Daryl stopped and turned to face her with a burning glare. "I don't have a problem payin' anythin'".

"Well, I just..."

"...you what? Gettin' sick of pissin' in bushes and eatin' squirrel? If that's how I wanna live, that's how I wanna live! Ain't my fault you gotta be stuck here without yer fancy farm life, so you best get use to it! Couldn't care less if they'd dragged yer ass to Woodbury..." He walked away in anger. "...spoiled bitch."

The last two words he tried to mutter under his breath, but Beth clearly heard them. As Daryl moved on, she just stood there, her emotions had a complete boil. She considered turning back even though she had no idea how to get back to the house. She was only brought back to reality at the sound of growling. Daryl paused and searched for the direction of the sound. He only had a split second to act when he spotted a walker moving towards him just feet away. "Shit!"

The walker missed him by mere inches but then another walker came through the fog...then another.

"Beth!"

She was already running towards the sound of Daryl and the walkers. "Beth, go back...go back to the house!"

"I can't see! Where are you?!"

"I said get back!"

Daryl was fighting off the walkers but with the fog, he couldn't tell how many there were. Three...maybe five if his eyes weren't fooling him. He already managed to slay two of them when his foot caught on something and he tripped.

Beth gasped as she spotted Daryl through the fog, now rolling down the hill. She used the trees to help her down in pursuit of him. Fortunately, she could only see one walker heading towards where he fell. Daryl was somewhere at the bottom, struggling, moaning in pain.

The walker found him and lounged at him. But in a quick flash, a dagger was struck into its head, the very one that Daryl had given Beth shortly upon her arrival here. She used one hand to ensure the dagger dug itself deep into the creature's brains while she shoving it out of Daryl's way with the other hand. When it no longer moved, she kicked the motionless corpse away from Daryl and then quickly kneeled over Daryl. Smoothing away his hair, Beth could see that his head was badly bleeding. She searched around but was unable to find any bites.

A soft moan escaped Daryl's lips much to Beth's relief. But she could hear the groaning of nearby walkers. They were getting close. "Beth..." Daryl was struggling to get up. "Daryl, don't..."

"We gotta get out of here." Daryl managed to stand up but his knees gave out as he tried to reach back down for his crossbow. Beth was able to catch him just in time and picked the crossbow up for him. "I'll help you."

No surprise that Daryl was a bit too heavy for her to handle but Daryl was able to move his legs to take some of the weight off of her. Still, he knew there was no way he was gonna get out of this situation alive without Beth's help, whether he wanted it or not. "That way..." Daryl stayed awake long enough to point the way for Beth to get back them to the house. He knew these woods blindfolded, unlike her. "Go up."

Helping Daryl up the hill was the hardest part for Beth but fortunately, the shack proved to be in sight. Beth kicked the door open and dragged Daryl passed the cramped living room. Daryl had no sense of where he was until he fell painfully onto Merle's bed. "The hell?" Some of Daryl's blood had gotten onto the mattress. "Merle's gonna kill me."

"You're bleeding and hurt and you're worrying about your brother?" Beth rushed back into the kitchen and came back with a wet rag and a bottle of ethanol. "This was the best thing I could find."

Daryl was not happy that she found the ethanol. It wasn't for purposes of first aid. "Hey! You ain't using that on me!"

"You don't have a choice, Daryl..." Before he could protest any more, Beth applied ethanol to the rag and placed it over the bloody spot on his head. All matter of curses came out of his mouth such that it would've called out every walker in the entire county. Daryl was clenching his fists and taking deep breaths to push away the pain. "...and I'm not spoiled."

"Yeah you are...,"Daryl said in a low mumble. "You got nuthin' good going for ya here."

Beth decided to ignore his last statement not knowing its intended context anyway. Instead she grabbed the Rebel flag and placed it over Daryl. She left to go lie down on the sofa that was shaped for Daryl's comfort. It smelled much like him alright, with that strong nicotine odor. Still, she tried her best to adjust herself into the cushions...allowing herself to adjust to certain aspects of his lifestyle. It was the first step in trying to understand him at the very least.