Beth woke to annoying shaft of sunlight penetrating through one of the boards that were tacked to the window. She rubbed her eyes, trying to bat it away and return to her much needed sleep. Then she realised there was a ceiling above her head instead of a canopy of trees and sat bolt upright, confused as her brain tried to connect the dots. For a few disorientating moments she wondered if she had dreamed the entire thing, that she was in her bedroom at the farm and she could bound downstairs and kiss her fathers cheek, breathing in the scent of the outdoors that always clung to him. She blinked, taking in the room and slowly remembering where she was. She had taken a bedroom in the funeral home, the big double bed looked too inviting to leave empty all night, so she had crawled into it and pulled the soft blankets over her. They smelled slightly musty, like the rest of the room but it was bright and inviting, and if it were not for the wooden boards at the window, it would have seemed like a normal house. She allowed herself a luxurious stretch, relishing the most comfort she had been in since her cot at the prison and slowly slid out of bed. Her ankle throbbed and she gingerly put weight on it, a little at a time. Limping, and using the wall for support, she made her way downstairs.

Yesterday, after Daryl had tended to her ankle, they had explored the other rooms in the house. They had found a stash of food lined in the cupboards, everything from jams to soda. The food containers were spotless, without even a speck of dust and she had mentioned to Daryl that it probably meant the house hadn't been unattended for long. He had become tense after that, holding the strap of his crossbow and throwing worried glances towards the front door all night. But they hadn't been disturbed. Beth had learned to wake up at the slightest noise, and she had slept peacefully through the entire night. They had taken some of the food, just enough to fill themselves up and not wanting to appear greedy if the owner returned. A meal of pigs feet, peanut butter and soda had been consumed silently and hungrily.

Daryl appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He looked relaxed, an expression of his that Beth would need to get used to.

'How the ankle?' he asked.

She pulled a face as she shifted her weight from it and attempted the next stair.

'Hurry,' he urged, a smile on his face.

'I can't go any faster,' she whined.

Without warning, he came towards her. Beth shrank back wondering whether he was going to yank her along again. He had left a bruise circling her wrist from the times before that was just beginning to fade. Her mouth fell open in a noise of surprise as he scooped her up, bridal style, and carried her to the kitchen. She giggled as he made exaggerated noises about carrying her. He set her down at the small table in the kitchen which he had set up with breakfast, which was really just a repeat of the meal they'd enjoyed last night. He sat opposite her and the dug in, scoffing the food in a companionable silence.

'You're in a good mood,' Beth grinned slyly.

Daryl uncapped the jar of jam and stuck his tongue into it, scooping it out and directly into his mouth.

'Gross,' Beth sniffed, wrinkling her nose.

'I found a car out back. Figured we could use it if we needed to get out fast or make runs into town.'

'I think we should find some of our own supplies. I'll write a thank you note for what we took and leave it in case we don't get back.'

'Maybe you don't need to write it,' Daryl suggested. 'We could stay here. We could make it work with whoever lives here. It's safe and secluded, it's boarded up tight. We've lived with a group before.'

The smile on Beth's face began slowly, a tug at the corner of her lips but as Daryl continued his speech, it widened into a beam across her cheeks. She knew it! He did believe there was some good left in the world otherwise he wouldn't be planning to play house with strangers. He was willing to make things work with other people. It was a world away from the wounded, angry animal who she had escaped the prison with.

'So you do still think there are good people,' there was a hint of 'I told you so' in her voice that she couldn't help. 'What changed your mind?'

Daryl shrugged, avoiding her gaze and shoveling peanut butter into his mouth from his fingers. He licked them clean noisily before he answered. 'You know,' he said vaguely.

'I don't or I wouldn't be asking! What?'

He looked down at the jar in his hands and then back to her, observing her through a gap in his hair which had fallen across his face. He mumbled a noise at her.

'Don't just,' she imitated the noise he had made. 'What made you change your mind?'

He paused, his fingers still sunken into the soft peanut butter and looked at her again. His gaze lingered. Harder this time. More directly. He seemed to be telling her the answer with his eyes, and with a flush, Beth realized he was indicating to right in front of him. To her.

Without breaking eye contact, Beth's mouth fell open and all she could manage to say was 'Oh.'

She didn't know how to interpret what he had just said, or not said. She blinked, and it was Daryl's cue to draw back into himself and continue his meal. Her mind whirled with all the different ways he could mean his admission. He hadn't directly said it was her, but the look in his eyes spoke louder than any words could. She tried not to read too much into it. She knew herself that they had formed a friendship and that since Daryl's emotional barriers had broken down, they knew each other more intimately. Though, since that time when she considered his attractiveness as he was waking up, she had never thought of Daryl in a way that was any more than just platonic. Despite her age, she felt she was more mature mentally than most people her age but she lacked any real knowledge in relationships and signs that someone may or may not have feelings for her. Especially someone like Daryl Dixon, who was much older than her and wiser in terms of survival, someone who up until recently had seemed to hate her.

The pair of them froze as the cans on the front porch clattered. Any leftover awkwardness dispersed as Daryl quickly put down his jar and snatched up his crossbow.

'Stay here,' he ordered.

Beth's nerves were on edge, jangling loudly in her ears. Despite Daryl's instructions, she couldn't sit still.

'It's just a dog,' she heard him call from the hallway.

The heavy feeling in her stomach lifted. A dog! She hadn't seen one of those in months. Hobbling towards the hallway she found Daryl standing and closing the door. He frowned when he saw her.

'I told you to stay put,' he scowled, but his tone held no real anger.

'Wouldn't he come in?'

'Maybe he'll come back,' Daryl shrugged, gently leading her by the arm back into the kitchen.

They spent the remainder of the day making sure the house was secure and Daryl worked a little on the car outside, making sure it was working properly and checking the gas. Beth was happy enough to stay at the house today; it gave her more time to rest her ankle, but she knew that soon they would need to venture into a town soon for supplies. As the light dwindled and dusk crept in, Beth made her way into a room she had discovered yesterday. It housed a piano, some chairs and an empty padded coffin. Beth assumed this was where funeral services had once been held. She lifted the lid on the piano, skimming her slender fingers across the ivory keys. She had missed playing music and singing. She hadn't felt light enough to sing recently but now, safe in this house and with a stomach full of food, she thought she might be able to. She positioned herself on the stool in front of the piano and softly pressed a key. The instrument was still in tune and this pleased her. Candles were dotted around the room. Slipping a box of matches from her pocket, Beth lit them all bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. She returned to the piano, flexed her fingers over the keys and began to play. It was a simple tune, one she knew from music she had listened to at the farm. She sang as she played, raising her voice as loud as she dared. The song she was singing was about a platonic friendship with a underlying feelings, and how the friends didn't want to complicate things by adding feelings into the mix. Beth wondered if she had chosen this song subconsciously because it could relate to her and Daryl, or if she just missed it from before. Did she really have feelings for him? She was baffled over her thoughts. Yes, he was attractive and she had grown close to him. He made her feel safe and protected and no longer gave off the vibe that he thought she was a nuisance. But he was also surly, and mercurial, and a lot older than her. Not that that mattered to her; it was a different world now and things that she may not have had in common with him when things were normal had changed. Beth wondered how the group would react - if they ever saw them again - and she was romantically involved with Daryl. They all trusted and respected him and had seen him as a leader alongside Rick, but would they be okay with him being with Beth? She decided it was none of their business anyway and besides, it was just the two of them for now anyway.

The sound of Daryl clearing his throat from the doorway startled her.

'I've locked the place up for the night,' he informed her. She nodded thinking he would disappear back to doing whatever it was he did during his time alone, but he hung around in the room awkwardly. Spotting the coffin, he hoisted himself into it and settled back. Beth gave him a frown.

'Really?' she said, a laugh in her voice.

'It's comfortable,' he shrugged, adjusting the pillow underneath his head. He laid back and fixed her with a long look. 'Why don't you play some more? Keep singin'?'

She was puzzled. He had always been the first to leave the room before when she had sung and the way he had mocked her for it back at the moonshine shack still stuck with her. And now he was asking her to sing?

'I thought my singing annoyed you,' it wasn't a question. More of a statement.

'You see any other alternatives?'

With a smile, she turned back to the keys and continued from where she left off. Her voice started out quietly, feeling shy of performing for Daryl and then as he relaxed and she knew he wasn't going to mock her, it grew stronger. She lost herself in the music, forgetting Daryl was even in the room with her as she poured every emotion into singing the words. When she had finished, she felt exhausted.

'I'm gonna go to bed,' she said.

Daryl, half asleep, nodded at her. 'We'll find a town tomorrow, get some supplies.'

Beth made a noise of agreement and headed towards the stairs. For a moment, she lingered at the door, trying to find some words but she didn't know what they were or what she wanted to say. She floundered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth before settling on 'G'night then' and slunk up the stairs.

A/N: I just want to say thank you for the faves, reviews and follows :) This is my first time writing fanfiction, and it was only intended to be something to write for NaNoWriMo, because I hadn't finished character development on what I actually wanted to write. So, this was merely a writing exercise that no one was meant to see! That being said, I'm glad other people seem to enjoy it and I will be deviating from the TV show plot from now on xo