I'm happy to finally get this chapter written. I really liked the idea of Beth and Daryl bonding while at the house and wanted to show how their relationship grows during that time, so I added an extra day in between their arrival and their separation. Enjoy!
Beth's POV
Beth slowly drifted out of her peaceful dream. It hadn't been anything special, Beth was just hanging out with her friends after school. The girls didn't do anything out of the ordinary, they had just talked about boys and painted their nails, but the simplicity of it somehow made the dream very calming. Beth opened her eyes and took in the coffee table that was littered with Oreos and crumbs. Where the heck am I? Beth sat up and jumped as she felt an arm slide off of her shoulder. The young woman whipped around to find Daryl asleep behind her. Her heart stopped for a second as she took in his face. Daryl's hair stuck out tuffs and he had obviously been holding her while they slept. Everything came flooding back to Beth. The nightmare and the crying and the Oreos on the couch. Without warning, Daryl's eyes opened and she found herself staring straight into them. Beth knew Daryl had beautiful eyes, but she had never looked this closely before. Storm clouds seemed to swirl in those deep blue eyes. Unlike most of Daryl's hard and anti-social exterior, his eyes were full of emotion.
Caught off guard, Beth backed up, forgetting that she was on the narrow couch. Daryl caught her right before she fell and pulled her back, which brought her even closer to the tough man. "Damn girl, I just woke up and I already got to stop you from killing yourself," Daryl muttered. Beth could feel the blood run to her cheeks as she found her body pressed up against the handsome redneck. Beth suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that she hadn't showered in several days, or even brushed her hair. "Ummmm," she stuttered, not sure where to begin. Daryl squinted up at her, still half-asleep. "I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to….I just, had a really bad nightmare and….," Beth trailed off, not wanting to talk about the horrible dream. "S' okay," Daryl said, "I wanted to get into those Oreos anyway." Beth nodded at him, grateful that he didn't push for an explanation.
Daryl sat up and ran his hand through his disheveled hair, which instantly went back to its normal position. Beth stared enviously; wishing that she could make her hair could do that. "How's your ankle," Daryl asked as he sat up. "Bit sore, but it is a lot better," Beth assured him. "Need to get it rewrapped," Daryl said, before standing up and disappearing through the door. He returned a few minutes later with the role of athletic tape. "This stuff is the duct tape of medicine," he informed Beth as he sat down in front of her. Daryl picked up her ankle and set it in his lap. He undid the previous wrap and examined her ankle. "Bit of swelling, but it has gone down. It should be good in a couple days," Daryl diagnosed. "You're awfully good at tending to my ankle, how did you learn to do that," Beth questioned. Daryl suddenly found the athletic tape very fascinating and stared at it closely while he worked. Beth began to feel that she had made him angry when he finally responded. "Practice," Daryl said in an emotionless voice without looking up, "For myself and for my mother, she would get beat up really bad by my old man whenever he got drunk. Neither of us could go to the hospital, there would be too many questions and it would cost too much money." Beth nodded. "Done," Daryl said as he patted her ankle, "you hungry?" Beth was but she also didn't want to use up the food supply too quickly. Daryl seemed to read her thoughts.
"How about I go hunting," he suggested. Beth looked up, an idea coming to her head. "Can I come with you," she asked eagerly. Daryl snorted. "With that busted up ankle of yours," he replied, "hell no! You're staying right here." Beth pouted, frustrated that she couldn't be more help, but she knew she would just get in the way.
Beth watched while Daryl laced up his boots and threw his crossbow over one shoulder. "I need to do somethin," Beth insisted, "I can't just sit around in my bed all day, I did that yesterday." Daryl looked over at her. "What do you want to do," he asked warily, as if he expected her to say she wanted to go on a ten mile jog. Beth looked around trying to come up with something. Her eyes landed on Daryl's stained and dirty vest. "How about some laundry," she suggested. The redneck raised his eyebrow. "What? Do I smell or somethin," he asked jokingly. Beth laughed, Daryl smelled wonderful but she wasn't about to tell him that. "I think I can smell pig's feet on you," she teased. "Alright," Daryl agreed, "but don't wander too far from the house. There is a pump for water at the bottom of the porch, but I don't want you going any farther than that." Beth nodded in agreement. Daryl took off his vest and threw it at her, "don't take out the smell of pig's feet, it gives it character." Beth rolled her eyes as Daryl walked out of the room.
Daryl's POV
Daryl stalked quietly through the forest. He worried every second he was away from Beth but hunting wasn't a process a person could just speed up. Daryl forced himself to move slowly so as to not scare off any prey. The redneck was only about a hundred yards into the woods, close enough to run back if anything happened. A couple of young sparrows darted through the trees, they weren't enough of a meal for Daryl to bother with them. The older man found a trail that had multiple deer tracks and hid himself nearby. As time ticked, Daryl became more impatient about getting back to Beth. Just as he was about to give up, a snort came from further down the trail. Daryl lifted his crossbow in anticipation. Slowly, a big buck came walking down the trail, it stopped every so often to nibble at leaves and grass. Daryl knees burned from crouching, but he didn't move a single muscle. The deer came closer and Daryl's finger curled around the release, the time was close. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a dog bark came from off in the distance. The large animal instantly bolted and Daryl's bolt buried itself into a tree trunk. "Damn," Daryl cussed.
He had waited over and hour and been so close. Daryl yanked his bolt out of the tree and renotched his weapon. The man was in a horrible mood now. He began stalking back towards the house, annoyed at his luck. "Stupid ass dog," he muttered under his breath. As Daryl walked through the trees, he noticed a honking noise coming from above. He followed the sound to its source, which was a mesquite tree. A couple of geese were perched on the very top. Not a buck, but they would do. Daryl raised his crossbow up and shot the closest one right through the breast. It instantly fell and its partner took to the sky. Daryl picked the bird up, he hated plucking feathers out of fowl, but there wasn't much of an option. The redneck tied a string around the dead animal's feet and hung it from his belt so that his hands would be free.
As Daryl retraced his own footprints, he came across a walker, which instantly made a beeline for him. He shot it right between the eyes and continued on after retrieving his bolt. Daryl came out the woods that flanked the left side of the house. No walkers were around and Daryl heaved a sigh of relief. As the redneck crossed the graveyard, he was thinking of how Beth's eyes would light up when she saw the goose. Daryl stepped over the rope and walked up the porch. Wet clothes lay hanging over the rocking chairs. Daryl stared at them for a second. There was Beth's shirt and her jeans dripping water onto the wooden planks. The door squealed a bit as it was opened and Daryl turned around to find Beth holding his only other shirt and his vest, which were both dripping wet. A white billowy shirt that was a couple sizes too big hung on her small shoulders, it seemed to swallow her up. She must have found it in one of the closets.
When Beth noticed him, a huge smile spread across her face, just as he knew it would. The young girl's hair was tied back with a green bandanna and she had little smudges of dirt on her face. Daryl had never really been one to think of a girl as cute, but there wasn't any other way of describing Beth at that moment. "I know you will be disappointed that I washed out the smell of pig," Beth teased. Daryl shook his head, she was something else. "Can I help you with the goose, please," Beth pleaded. Daryl stared at her in wonder; most teenage girls wouldn't be jumping at the chance clean a bird. Something in him said that maybe it wasn't about the goose, but about being near him. The thought made him feel silly, a sweet girl like Beth wouldn't want to be anything more than friends with him. He grunted in agreement before pushing past her into the house. Daryl found a tarp and picked up his hunting knife before heading back outside. "Ready," he asked the young girl as she hung his clothing over porch rail. He didn't wait to see if she followed and headed out towards the graveyard.
Daryl walked a ways from the house and found patch of ground that was fairly flat. He laid the tarp out and set the goose on it. Beth sat down beside him with an excited look in her eyes. "Okay," Daryl began, "first thing you gotta do is pull all the feathers out." Daryl showed Beth by example how to firmly grab the feathers and rip them out of the goose. Once he had cleared a patch, he handed the bird to her. The young woman was hesitant at first, but after a few timid handfuls of feather, she began tugging them out like a pro. Beth was surprisingly good at cleaning the bird, her fingers were agile as they yanked the plumage from the pale skin. Daryl allowed his eyes to wander to the young woman's face and over the curve of her cheekbones. "Done," Beth said, looking up at him for guidance. Daryl turned away, cursing himself. Focus on what your doing. Daryl took his knife out and began using it to get rid of the fine, fluffy feathers. Once most of the bird was bare, Daryl showed Beth how to use his lighter to burn off any spots that were left. "Alright," he instructed, "now that it is plucked, we have to remove all the internal junk." Daryl had Beth cut along the stomach of the goose and told her what each organ was as they pulled them out. Beth's nose wrinkled each time she stuck her hand into the fowl's stomach, Daryl did his best to hide a smirk. Finally, when all that was left was muscle, skin, and bones, Daryl took Beth over to the pump and had her wash the blood off the semi-processed goose.
While Beth finished cleaning the goose, Daryl began collecting small twigs to start a fire. He added some old leaves and grass as fuel, the dead foliage caught fire immediately over Daryl's lighter. He watched as the flames spread and then added bigger pieces of wood. Daryl used his foot to disturb the grass all around the fire. He churned it up until he had a neat circle of dirt that would prevent the fire from spreading. The sun was high in the sky when they finally began to cook the goose. He made sure that Beth turned it regularly so that every single part was evenly cooked.
While sitting and watching the goose roast, Beth began talking. Daryl leaned back, enjoying her sweet voice. "Taking all the time to prepare this goose makes me appreciate how I used to be able to just buy it from the store," the young woman said as she reminisced, "for Thanksgiving, Daddy used to buy a gigantic turkey and we would have all the family over. I would always watch all of my young cousins and play with them until it was time to eat. Then, I would help set the table and bring in all the dishes. Daddy would pray and then we would all eat until we couldn't fit another bite." Daryl could imagine Beth, surrounded by children and carrying silverware to a big table. He had heard of families that would sit down and have meals together or invite the relatives over for holidays. To Daryl, such stories had seemed more like myths than reality. Only during the apocalypse had he begun to take part in such activities. The group would often eat together and at Hershel's home, Lori had put together several meals where everyone sat down at a nice table and ate and talked together. Daryl had been uncomfortable throughout each one of those dinners, but it was also amazing for him to see that such events actually occurred.
Here at the house, Daryl felt like he was experiencing more of all the things he had missed out on. Eating meals with Beth and talking to her was something he unexpectedly enjoyed. If they stayed, every single day he could eat breakfast with Beth and every night he could fall asleep after hearing her play the piano or read out of a book. It was like some kind of dream and Daryl dreaded the moment he would have to wake up from it. They needed to move on, the place was off and he knew it. It was what had to be done, but for a little while Daryl let himself imagine what it would be like if it didn't have to be that way. He looked over at Beth, who was concentrating on turning the goose. Despite having had her hands covered in blood and guts for the past hour, she seemed happy. Daryl enjoyed having Beth around, her happiness was just what he needed.
Beth suddenly looked over, catching him staring at her for the second time that day. Daryl looked down at the ground and began pulling at some of the grass. He could almost hear his brother's voice in his head saying "pull your head out of your ass baby brother, don't let some piece of tail get ya all messed up." Daryl tugged at a weed, purposefully not looking back up at Beth. Finally, he glanced at the goose to see that it was turning a pale golden color. "'S about done," Daryl informed Beth, "I can finish it while you set the table." Beth nodded and handed the stick with the goose over to Daryl. He carefully took it, careful not to touch her hand. Daryl positioned the bird over the fire as Beth stood up and brushed the dirt off the pair of jeans she must have found in the house.
"Thank you for going hunting Daryl," Beth said. Daryl was about to shrug off her compliment when she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. Daryl stiffened under her gentle touch, her cool lips felt soft against his rough skin. Her scent of peaches washed over him and filled every pore in his body. Too soon, Beth had pulled away and skipped off back towards the house. Daryl didn't move for several minutes after she left, trying to process what had just happened. Don't get any ideas. Beth is a sweet girl and she doesn't mean anything, just bein nice, southern hospitality. Despite the attempt to brush off Beth's actions as merely being pleasant, Daryl's cheek tingled and he couldn't get the feel of her lips out of his head.
Beth's POV
Beth hummed as she searched the kitchen for plates. She was so lucky to have Daryl around to hunt for them. Not only could they eat from the wonderful stash of food that was in the house, but a whole goose as well! Beth set a jar of pig's feet at Daryl's spot as a reward for his hard work. Next, Beth rummaged through the pantry to find utensils; they were going to be eating in style tonight. She went to the closet and retrieved two water bottles, one for each of them.
As Beth worked, her mind wandered over to Daryl. When Beth had gotten up from roasting the goose, she had wanted to show Daryl how much she appreciated all that he did for her. Looking down at him she had just suddenly just kissed him on the cheek. Beth's own cheeks burned at the memory. The blonde knew that Daryl wasn't one for close contact and she may have overstepped some boundaries, but it had just seemed so natural at the time. Beth chuckled to herself as she remembered how Daryl had turned to stone under her touch. The redneck was so averse to any close contact that it was almost fun to mess with him. The slamming of the door brought Beth out of her thoughts. Daryl came through the kitchen holding the roasted goose. He set it on the plate and took a seat.
"Let's pray," Beth suggested. Daryl grumbled and hung his head. "Dear Lord," Beth intoned, "thank you for this wonderful meal and shelter. Watch over us and our friends and family, keep them safe wherever they may be. Amen." Daryl raised his head and stared at the food. He fidgeted, as if he was unsure if he was supposed to start eating or if there were other formalities they would go through. Beth handed him a knife and indicated that he cut the goose. Daryl easily sliced through the bird and placed some of the fresh meat on her plate before serving himself. Beth mused at Daryl's natural table manners. Beth chewed the goose and found that it was delicious. She was used to talking at the dinner table back at the farm, but she didn't know how to start a conversation with Daryl. Finally, an idea came to her. "My family used to say the best and the worst thing that happened to them at each dinner," she told Daryl, who looked up from his meal. "The best thing that happened to me today was eating this fine goose and the worst is that I couldn't go hunting with you because of my ankle," Beth said, "now it's your turn." Daryl stared down at his plate and brought his fingers up to his lips, the same way he had when Beth had asked him to play Never Have I Ever. After a moment of thought, Daryl replied, "Best thang is that we have food, worst is the deer I was hunting got scared off." He looked up at Beth, as if checking if his answer was acceptable. Beth smiled at him to show that it was.
When they finished, Beth cleared the table and put the leftover goose on the kitchen counter for dinner. "Your ankle," Daryl asked, looking at her with concern. Beth realized she had been limping slightly. "It's fine, but I could use some more medicine. Daryl nodded and disappeared. He returned shortly with two pills and Beth obediently swallowed them. Then, Daryl went back out to clean his bolts. Beth made her way upstairs and picked up the novel by her bedside. It's a wonderful day to read outside. Beth headed back to the porch and sat down in one of the wooden rocking chairs. She pulled her legs up onto the chair and watched as Daryl finished taking care of his bolts. His long hair fell over his eyes and his lean muscles in his arms stood out. Beth liked his little quirks, like not wearing shirts with sleeves. Finally, Daryl was satisfied with the condition of his weapons and he came up onto the porch and sat down in the second rocking chair.
"Why don't you read a little," he suggested, pointing at the book in her lap. Beth smiled, she was glad that Daryl enjoyed the book; she had chosen the novel because it had seemed like a story he would like. She found the place where they had left off and began to read. As she got to the part about Billy walking all the way to the depot to pick up his puppies, Beth suddenly felt something change in the atmosphere. She didn't need to look up to know that Daryl was staring at her as she read aloud. His intense blue eyes seemed to burn a hole into her, but she pretended not to notice. When Beth had realized Daryl was staring at her earlier, he had always turned away and she didn't want that to happen again. Finally, Beth's voice became horse and she ended their reading session with Billy naming his two puppies Old Dan and Little Ann. The pair sat outside, enjoying the quiet peaceful day. Beth could almost imagine that the turn had never happened. She enjoyed the warm heat and safety of being near the house and Daryl. They both stayed until the sun set, enjoying the moment in silence and not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere. When Daryl and Beth had first started traveling together, Beth had found the long silences awkward and uncomfortable, but now they were just relaxing.
Once it was too dark to see, Beth stood up and went inside. Not long later, Daryl followed. Beth went upstairs to the room she was staying in. The whole house was silent and suddenly Beth felt very lonely. She remembered her nightmare from the night before and shivers ran down her spine. She went over to the dresser and fumbled around in the dark until she found some loose nightwear. After changing, Beth got into bed and sighed as she leaned back into the fluffy, soft sheets. It was heaven to sleep in a real bed. Her door squeaked as Daryl opened it. He quietly entered and made his way over. It was took dark to make out more than his silhouette. "You need any more medicine," he asked. Beth's ankle was sore, but she didn't want to use up all the precious tablets, they might need them later. "No," Beth replied, shaking her head. "Alright," Daryl said in a husky voice as he turned to go.
Beth's nightmare flashed in her memory and suddenly her arm shot out on its own, catching onto the end of Daryl's shirt. He stopped and turned around, looking down at her expectantly. Beth didn't know how to ask, she fidgeted and tried to find the words. "Can you…uhhh," she stuttered. Spit it out girl! Beth swallowed and looked up at Daryl's outline. "Can you stay? I sleep better when you're around," she requested. Although it was hard to see in the dark, Beth could have sworn that Daryl's face turned red. He suddenly turned and headed for the door without saying a word. Beth's heart sank as she watched him walk away.
When Daryl reached the door, instead of going through it, he shut it and kicked his shoes off. Then, he silently walked back and pulled back the covers. "Well git in," he demanded. Beth quickly got underneath the sheets and Daryl sat down on the opposite side. "Thank you," Beth whispered, still surprised that he had agreed. "Just git some sleep," Daryl mumbled as he laid down with his back to her. Beth could feel his heat radiating from his body even though a whole couple of feet separated them. His scent filled her nostril. Jimmy had always smelled like cologne, but for some reason Beth had never found that very attractive. Knowing that it was a manufactured odor had always turned her off. Daryl's natural earthy scent was much more appealing. Trying not to be too obvious, Beth scooted closer to Daryl until their backs were touching. It felt good to have Daryl beside her, with him around, Beth felt safe.
Daryl's POV
Daryl didn't know why he had agreed to Beth's suggestion. Her hand tugging at his shirt had caught him off guard and he had looked down to those big blue eyes asking him to stay with her. How could he refuse a sweet girl like Beth? Even as Daryl had shut the door and taken his shoes off, he knew he was making a bad decision. Beth was more than ten years younger than him, he shouldn't be sleeping in the same bed as her, much less the same house. He shouldn't have fallen asleep with her the night before either. However, to wake up with Beth in his arms was nothing short of a dream. He remembered how her eyes had widened in surprised and how he had to catch her before she fell off the couch. Daryl could almost imagine that she felt the same way about him, almost. Even if a sweet girl like Beth could ever feel anything for a rough, uncouth guy like him, she was forbidden to him. Beth was no longer a little girl, but she was still much too young and too good for him.
Daryl had never felt this way about another woman. All the whores Merle had brought home had made his skin crawl. They all stank of alcohol and drugs and left glitter all over his bed. A couple of times he had almost had gotten intimate with a couple of them. However, when it came to taking clothes off, they would see the scars on his back and ask questions and he would suddenly be out of the mood. A couple of times, Daryl had kicked the sluts out of the house, even though they were only half dressed. Daryl had never really dated, he had never wanted to start a family, he wasn't sure he knew how to be a boyfriend or a father. With Beth though, Daryl felt comfortable. Daryl turned onto his back and looked over at Beth's sleeping face. She had moved closer to him and the ends of her blonde hair brushed his right arm. How the hell was he supposed to sleep with her right next to him? Daryl watched the young woman as her chest moved up and down with her breath.
Suddenly, she moaned a bit and turned closer to him. Was she having another nightmare? Daryl tensed, waiting to see if he needed to wake her. His anxiety made him lean in closer as he tried to figure out what was going on. Was her ankle bothering her, she hadn't taken the medicine? "Daryl," Beth breathed, so softly he almost thought he had imagined. Daryl's heart jumped, could she possibly be dreaming about him? Daryl watched as Beth quit tossing. Never before had anyone made his name sound so good. Beth mumbled incoherently and suddenly wrapped her arms around him the way she had done with the pillow. Daryl froze, unsure of how to get himself untangled without waking her up. After several minutes, Daryl gave into the contact and pulled Beth into his arms. He laid his head down next to Beth's and breathed in the scent of her hair.
Under any other circumstances, Daryl would have never let things go as far as they already had. However, being away from the group and any other civilization, Daryl could almost forget his past and how wrong it was for him to be with her. Daryl had never wanted anything as bad as he did at that moment. He wanted to hold the precious girl in his arms every night and wake up to her smell every morning. Even if things between them never went farther than snuggling at night and teasing each other throughout the day, Daryl would be perfectly content. The last thing he thought before falling asleep was, "maybe we can try staying here, see how it works out."
Pretty soon, I will be getting to the point where Daryl and Beth are separated. My plan is to continue doing the two separate points of views for each of them. I will be sticking to the TV series plot about Daryl ending up in Joe's group and meeting up with Rick and going to Terminus. During his POV, I could add his thoughts and extra tidbits. However, I would like ya'lls opinion on whether or not to do Daryl's POV, since TV viewers already know the main things that happen to him during that time. In the end, I will do whichever I think shapes the story the best, but I would like to consider any advice ya'll are willing to give so that I can make the best story possible. Thanks so much for the support and I hope to get the next chapter up soon!