Thank you everyone who wrote a review. I am glad to hear that ya'll are enjoying the POVs and I will keep doing them throughout the series. As for a question I received about splitting from the events of the show that will not really be happening in this particular story. I plan to build off of the end of season 4 and develop the story from there. However, maybe once I finish I will go back and write a separate fanfiction that takes a different route. Once again, thank you for all of ya'll support and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
Daryl's POV
Daryl woke up early in the morning, the light was barely beginning to come through the windows. Beth was still fast asleep, the streams of sunlight hit her hair, making it appear golden. Looking at the precious girl curled up in his arms Daryl felt happy and ashamed at the same time. He quietly untangled himself and got out of the bed. He looked down at Beth, who had her arms lying in the empty space where he had slept. Handmade bracelets decorated her left wrist. They covered up the scar that had been left by her suicide attempt. Daryl ran his fingers over the yarn and beads briefly before leaving the room. He went downstairs and checked all the rooms. Everything appeared to be locked up just as tight as the night before. Daryl glanced out the window to make sure everything was clear before he went outside. The rope was still tied tightly around the perimeter of the house and nothing seemed to be amiss. Daryl relaxed. Maybe the broken rope was an accident, it had been old after all.
His clothes and Beth's were still out on the porch where they had been left to dry. Daryl figured it was about time to wear clean clothes. Just as he was about to pull his yellow checkered shirt over his head, he noticed that Beth's scent was on it. Instead of taking it off, Daryl picked up the fresh long-sleeved maroon shirt from off the porch railing and layered it over the first one without bothering to button it up. Daryl hadn't had his clothes washed by anyone since he was a kid and his mother had still been alive. Next, he pulled his vest on, enjoying its familiar presence. Several years before the outbreak, Merle had come home with several drunk friends and the guys had left their shit lying all over the house. When none of them came back for their stuff, Daryl had taken over anything that was worth having. One cool morning, when Daryl had been heading out to hunt, the vest had caught his attention. It had just been draped over the couch, so Daryl had decided to make use of it. He never planned on keeping it, but the vest had grown on him.
Daryl gathered up Beth's clothes and took them up to the room. He set them on the end bed before going back downstairs. The house was quiet except for a few creaks that would occasionally come from the old floorboards. The redneck headed into the kitchen and began scavenging around. An idea popped into Daryl's head and he started searching around for peanut butter and peaches, a couple of Beth's favorite foods. He put them on the table and added some pig's feet for himself. He snatched a couple bottles of coke and set one at each spot. Daryl looked at the haphazard meal. He had never set the table for a meal before. As a kid, his family almost never ate together and when it was just him and Merle, they had each fended for themselves, eating whenever they pleased. However, somewhere Daryl was sure that he had heard that families took turns making meals and setting the table. He hoped his feeble attempt at setting out breakfast was good enough for Beth. Daryl went up the stairs and stood outside the room. He could hear Beth moving around inside. He raised his hand up and knocked softly on the door.
Beth's POV
Beth was pulling the newly washed shirt over her head when she heard a knock at the door. "Comin," she yelled through the door as she straightened out the yellow fabric. Then, she opened the door to find Daryl standing there, looking awkward. "Ummm, I got breakfast for ya," he muttered, not making eye contact. Beth felt her lips tug up into a grin. Daryl was acting shy because he was embarrassed about doing something nice for her. "Thank you," she said, giving him her biggest smile, "I'm starvin." He nodded but looked a little less uncomfortable. She closed the door behind her and followed him down the stairs.
Her ankle was feeling much better, but Beth still had to lean on the rail a bit to make it down the steps. She went slowly, not wanting to hurt it again when it was healing so well. Daryl was at the bottom of the steps waiting for her and fidgeting impatiently. "I'm goin as fast as I can," Beth told Daryl, who looked like a young kid waiting to show her a surprise. Suddenly, his footsteps rang out and he was right by her side. "Forget that," he said as he scoped her into his arms, his woodsy scent enveloped her. Beth gasped at the sudden contact as she was carried down the stairs. She was used to Daryl drawing away or stiffening up under her touch, not being the one to initiate it. Daryl kicked the kitchen door open and took Beth over to her seat. "Here ya go," he grunted as he set her down gently in the chair. "Whew," Daryl breathed as he took the seat across from her. Beth looked over the food on the table and was touched that Daryl had thought to prepare breakfast. She didn't think anyone had ever done something so nice for her before, or maybe it was that such small gestures meant a lot more in the world they lived in now.
"All right," came his husky voice from across the small counter, "Let's eat." Daryl began twisting a lid on the can of pig's feet and Beth wondered what he thought was good about those gross slimy snacks. She was opening the peanut butter when a clatter came from outside. Beth looked up, Daryl had put down the jar and was listening. He grabbed his crossbow from under the table and pointed at her. "Stay," he commanded, like she was a dog or something. Then, he disappeared around the corner. Beth waited, her heart pounding. What if the owners had returned? She heard the door open. Beth stood, not sure if she needed to hide or go introduce herself. She reached down to the knife that hung from her belt buckle and felt reassured by its presence. "It's just a damn dog," Daryl hollered from the doorway. Beth let out a breath in relief before processing the statement. A dog?!
Daryl's POV
Daryl reached out toward the one-eyed mutt. "Hi," he said, trying not to sound threatening. This must have been the dog the scared off his deer the other day. "Com'ere boy," Daryl encouraged as he tried to pet the scraggly animal's head. Just before his finger could touch the creature's blonde fur, it yelped and ran back under the rope, causing the cans to rattle. The dog streaked off back towards the woods and out of sight. Daryl stood up, nothing he could do if the dog was too scared to come near him. He didn't blame it, half of the human population would probably tear the mutt to shreds and eat it raw with the way things were now. Daryl shut the door and turned to head back to the kitchen when he came face to face with Beth. "He wouldn't come in," she questioned, trying to peer around him and look out the window. "I told you to stay back," Daryl admonished. The young woman turned her attention to him, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah, but Daryl," she continued, undaunted by his scolding, "you said there was a dog." As Daryl looked into her hopeful eyes, he felt his anger melt away. "Well, maybe he'll come back around," Daryl said as he took her shoulder and turned Beth back towards the kitchen, "Com'on."
They sat back down and Daryl dug into the pig's feet. He watched as Beth ate the peanut butter straight out of the jar, a content smile on her face. Suddenly, Daryl was happy he had set the table. As Beth shifted in her chair to get another scoop of peanut better, Daryl's caught a glimpse of a silver chain that flickered into view from under her shirt collar. Before he had even thought about it, the question jumped from Daryl's lips. "Why you always wear that necklace," he asked, pointing at her neck. Beth looked up at him and then down at the jewelry. She pulled it out from under her shirt and showed it to him. There was two little silver hearts, one inside of the other. "This necklace was a present from my momma. It was supposed to be my graduation gift, but when the walkers started appearing, she decided to go ahead and give it to me because it didn't seem like I would be graduating any time soon," Beth answered as she fingered the precious jewelry. Daryl inclined his head. He had always thought Beth wore it for the reason all women wore jewelry, just because they liked it. However, her answer held much more meaning than he had expected.
Once they finished, Daryl helped clear the table and brought in water from outside so that Beth could wash the dishes. While she cleaned, Daryl paced around the house. There were a couple of windows that he hadn't boarded up yet. He considered finding wood for them, but then decided that an escape route may be necessary at some point. There was no back door, so a window would be their only way out if anything ever happened. Daryl brought his fingers up and ran them across his lips as he considered what would make the house safer. It came as a shock when Daryl realized what he was doing. He was trying to secure the house like they would be staying there rather than moving on. "It's just till her ankle heals," Daryl told himself firmly before heading back to the kitchen.
Beth had finished the dishes and looked up when he entered. Her big blue eyes followed him as he paced across the room. "Daryl, will you teach me to set snares," Beth's voice asked from across the kitchen, "once I get better I want to be able to pull my own weight, you can't be the only one catching food." Daryl didn't think Beth was a burden, but he could understand that she wanted to feel like she was contributing. "Well," he began, "the first thing you need to do is find some thin flexible wire or rope, if you can find that I will teach you." Her eyes widened in excitement and she rushed off to search the house. Daryl liked how Beth was always eager to learn new things, even when the lessons were over matters like shooting and skinning animals. Beth had a soft side to her that liked riding horses and writing in her journal, but there was also a tough side to her that enjoyed the outdoors. It was that side of her that made her not content with just staying alive, but it made her want to learn how to fend for herself.
Just as Daryl finished the last thought, Beth burst in with fishing line and dropt it into his hands. She looked up at him expectantly. "Now will you teach me," she almost begged. Daryl could feel his lips twitching upward. "Alright, hold your horses," he said as she took his hand and began tugging him toward the door. He couldn't help it, a small smile came to his face as he felt Beth's little hand tug at his calloused one.
Beth's POV
Beth did her best to pay close attention as Daryl explained how to make a snare. They were just making practice ones out in front of the house because Daryl didn't want her to walk all about the woods with her ankle. Beth had insisted that her ankle was almost healed, but the older man had wanted to stay on the safe side. "You only want to set a snare where there are signs of animal activity, so look for water, food, animal shit, or tracks," he lectured. Beth's eyes roamed over his muscular arms, remembering how good it felt to be carried in them. Daryl's messy hair fell over his eyes, but they still shined bright blue from under the dark strands. "Are you even listening?" Beth jumped as Daryl's voice cut through her distracted thoughts. "Yes," she replied, a little faster than necessary. Daryl stared at her for a minute, but then let it drop and continued talking about snares. After he finished, he began showing her how to loop the snare to make a noose at one end. They practiced several times and when Beth finally managed to do one without Daryl's instruction, he reached over and tousled her hair. "Good job," Daryl said, making Beth beam because she knew he didn't give praise lightly. Daryl stood up and brushed off the grass on his jeans before reaching down to help her up. Beth's arm tingled where his hand touched her skin.
Once they were inside the house, Beth grabbed her journal and the pen before heading into the kitchen. After moving the jars of peanut butter and pigs feet, she had just enough space on the small table to write at. The familiar action soothed her and the words seemed to flow from the pen and onto the paper .Beth wrote down every word that Daryl had told her about snares, she didn't want to forget the important information. When Beth finished her description of where to place the snares, she took the time to draw a diagram of how to knot the snare. Once it was complete, Beth took the illustration and began looking for Daryl so that he could confirm that she had drawn it correctly. She looked into the piano room, but it was empty. Next, Beth entered the living room, where Daryl was stretched out on the couch. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.
Beth was about to leave, she didn't want to wake Daryl up from his nap, but something stopped her. The older man's face looked so peaceful and serene in his sleep that Beth couldn't stop staring. She quietly inched closer, amazed by the sight of Daryl, who looked like he was several years younger. He didn't have the usual walls up around him; he just laid there like an open book for her to read. Beth had never thought facial hair was very attractive, but somehow Daryl managed to pull the look off. Beth had a sudden urge to run her hand along the side of Daryl's face, just to see what it felt like. She struggled with the impulse and was still deciding when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"It's not polite to stare at people while they sleep," said Daryl in a matter-of-a-fact voice. His eyelids slowly rose until his bright blue eyes were piercing into hers. How long had he been awake? Beth could feel her cheeks flush and knew she had no excuse for her behavior. "I was….ummm," Beth mumbled incoherently before she remembered the reason she had been looking for him. "I want you to check my drawing of a snare," she said as she thrust the journal towards him, trying to change the subject. He extended his arm out and took it from her. As he was looking over the sketch, Beth took a seat on the floor beside the couch and watched as his eyes narrowed with focus. A sort of electricity seemed to hang in the air between them and Beth felt sure that if she touched Daryl right now, she would get receive a small shock. Finally, Daryl handed the journal back to her. "Ya did it right," he said before he sat up.
"How long was I out for," he asked. Beth realized that she had lost track of time during her writing. She glanced at the boarded up window to see that no light was seeping through. "It's already dark," she answered. "Mmm," Daryl grumbled, "we should get somethin to eat." Beth nodded, wanting to escape the tension in the room and at the same time never wanting to stay. Daryl stood up and headed toward the kitchen. Beth continued sitting on the floor, staring down at her feet. What had just happened? Beth had known she had a crush on Daryl, but with crushes she usually didn't get so carried away as to get caught watching them sleep. Her cheeks flushed red again at the memory. However, the atmosphere that had arisen the moment their eyes had met made Beth feel like she wasn't the only one having thoughts. Don't be silly, it's Daryl, he wouldn't think nothing of me, I'm getting carried away. Beth wanted to bury her head into her hands and never come out, but she knew Daryl was waiting in the kitchen.
Upon entering the room, Beth saw that Daryl was already pulling food out of the cabinet. It appeared that dinner was going to be a repeat of breakfast, they had forgotten lunch entirely. Beth sat down with her journal, she wasn't quite ready to eat yet. Daryl began digging into the pigs feet as Beth pulled a sheet of paper from her journal. Daryl looked up at the sound of ripping paper and his questioning eyes found hers. "I'm gonna leave a thank-you note," Beth explained. "Why," Daryl asked before turning his attention back to the meal. "For when they come back," Beth replied, "If they come back that is." Lately she had started to wonder if the owner was dead, they hadn't seen anyone since they arrived several days ago. However, her mama had taught her to always thank those who had helped her. Manners were something that had been trained into Beth at a young age. "Even if they're not coming back, I still want to say thanks," Beth decided. She bent her head down and began thinking of how to begin the letter, she didn't even know who to address it to. Daryl's rough voice cut through the quiet air, "maybe you don't have to leave that." Beth looked up, confused. Daryl wasn't paying attention to her, he was digging around in the pickled pig's feet jar with a spoon. "Maybe we can stick around here for a while," he said in a casual voice as if he was suggesting that they do laundry or go to bed early. He finally quit staring down at the food and looked her straight in the eyes. "When they come back," he continued, "we'll just make it work. I mean, they may be nuts, but maybe it'll be alright."
Beth took a moment to process what Daryl had just said. He wanted to stay here, just the two of them. He also hadn't said that he would handle the owner the way he originally had when he was giving her a piggyback ride to the house. Beth could feel a familiar smile creeping onto her face. "So you do think there are still good people around," she stated, happy that he was finally giving strangers the benefit of the doubt. Daryl shifted in his chair uncomfortably and shrugged his shoulders. "What changed your mind," Beth asked, curious. The redneck glanced between her and the jar in his hand a couple times without saying anything. Finally he replied. "You know," he muttered vaguely. "What," Beth pushed, wanting him to explain his sudden change in heart. Daryl stared at her for a second, as if wondering if she would drop the matter. Beth stared at him, not willing to change the subject. "I don't know," Daryl mumbled, looking away. "Don't…," Beth said as she replicated his mumbling, "What changed your mind?" The older man didn't say anything, he just stared at Beth. Daryl didn't need words to say what he was feeling, his eyes held it all.
The earlier electricity began to build and suddenly it all clicked into place. The piggyback, the crossbow lessons, the breakfast, everything that Daryl had done for her. He had been there for her when she had nightmares and held her the whole night. Sure, Beth knew Daryl was a good guy despite the uncaring and cold exterior he often chose to show to people. However, if he was just watching out for her, he wouldn't have to be so sweet and helpful. He normally wasn't sweet, Maggie had always told her how Daryl would cuss and yell at people out on food runs. Daryl had feelings for her! The idea was so revolutionary that all Beth could manage to say was a small "Oh!"
Before either of them could continue the conversation, cans began rattling outside and there was the sound of a dog barking. "Ugh," Daryl growled as he dropped his spoon into the jar of pig's feet. "I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance," he grumbled as he rose from the table. Beth sat in her seat frozen, not moving even after he had left the kitchen. Beth had known she had feelings for Daryl for a while now, but she had never imagined that Daryl reciprocate those feelings. Looking back it suddenly seemed so obvious, every touch and every glance that had been shared between them, the nights curled up next to each other. Beth tried to wake herself from the haze that had enveloped her mind, she still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Beth was trying to figure out what to tell Daryl when he returned when his voice caused her to jump.
"BETH! BETH," he hollered from the hallway. Adrenaline and fear shot through Beth as she got up to help. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the crossbow that Daryl must have left under the table. She grabbed the heavy weapon and ran as fast as she could out of the kitchen. Daryl had himself braced against the door and snarls were coming from outside. A decaying hand reached through the crack and tried to grab at Daryl's shirt. The redneck lifted an arm, reaching for his crossbow. Beth threw his weapon to him as he struggled to keep the door closed. "Run," he yelled at her as he reloaded the crossbow. She turned and ran past the staircase. "Run," Daryl yelled again as he fired at the hoard, "Beth, the window! Get your shit!" Beth ran into the living room and threw her backpack over her shoulder; luckily most of her supplies were already packed. She rushed back out into the hallway as Daryl continued firing at the walkers.
"I'm not going to leave you," she shouted over the groans. Daryl turned around and pushed her further back into the hallway. "Go out! Go up the road, I'll meet you there," he hollered as he shoved her into the piano room and shut the door. Beth tried not to sob in fear and ran to the one window that wasn't boarded up. As she undid the latches, she could hear Daryl's voice leading the walkers away. However, some hadn't followed and were pounding at the door. Beth finally got the window open and she tumbled out of the opening just as walkers burst into the room. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings. Corpse were milling around the entire house. She pulled her knife out and stabbed the nearest one. It fell to the ground and Beth began running toward the road, dogging walkers along the way.
Daryl's POV
Daryl had run down into the basement, it being the only place left to go. He had to lead the walkers away from Beth. He shot the first one coming down the stairs before he realized that he was out of bolts. "Shit," he cussed, looking around for anything that he could use. Scissors and other sharp dissection tools sat on the counter. Daryl threw his crossbow away, it was as good as useless without bolts. He grabbed the sharp instruments as the sound of walkers got closer. They were almost on him. Daryl took one last pair of scissors and yanked the cart with the dead body on it so that it was between him and the walkers. Not a moment after he had positioned the metal cart, the walkers were slamming against it, pushing him and the cart into the wall. Daryl's side screamed in pain at the pressure and rotting hands began reaching for him. Daryl took one of the scissors and began stabbing at the closest heads. When enough of them had fallen, Daryl managed to push the cart far enough away to slip under. He crawled on the floor as the brainless corpses tried to figure out where he had gone. Daryl managed to make it to the second cart, which used to push the walkers into the wall and away from himself. They struggled against him and another was coming down the stairs.
Daryl gathered all his strength and pushed the cart away. In a swift movement, he stabbed the oncoming walker without bothering to withdraw the scissors. Then, he grabbed his crossbow and ran up the steps, he heart pounding. A walker lay slumped against the wall with one of his bolts through its left eye socket. Daryl yanked the ammunition out and continued upward. When he came to the main floor, there were a few walkers stumbling around, but he quickly dispatched them. Daryl headed for the door, but stopped by the kitchen to grab a large steak knife. Beth! Daryl sprinted out of the house and jumped over the rope that was meant to protect them. How had the walkers gotten so close without them noticing? It wasn't something Daryl had time to dwell on. He wound his way through the gravestones, his eyes searching desperately for a glimpse of that blonde head.
Beth's POV
Beth's feet pounded against the grass as she made her way to the road. It was dark, but the moon shone bright enough for her to make out the path in front of her. Once she got to the meeting point, she looked back to see the house being overrun with walkers. The despicable bodies roamed all around the graveyard, moaning and groaning like something out of a horror movie. A sob escaped her throat and Beth was overcome with guilt. She should have stayed and helped Daryl. He was strong and a good fighter, but even he could be outnumbered. She waited for the redneck to come out but the only movement she detected was the stumbling of uncoordinated corpses.
A rustling came from the bushes nearby and Beth raised up her knife, ready for action. A straggling walker burst out from the woods and headed for Beth. She pulled the knife back as adrenaline coursed through her blood. She ran at the monstrosity and buried her knife deep in the skull. The walker fell to the ground and dragged her with it. Beth struggled to pull her blade out, but it was stuck. Beth wrapped both hands around the handle and was just about to give a gigantic tug when a painful burst exploded on the back of her head. Beth sank to the pavement as pain racked her body. The young girl looked up and tried to see her attacker. Her eyes showed dark human form in-betweens swirls of colors and black spots. Rough hands grabbed her and Beth tried to push them away. On instinct, Beth kicked out and managed to connect with flesh. A man's voice hollered in pain and dropped her.
Beth started crawling away, but suddenly a force from her backpack began dragging her back. Beth quickly slipped her arms out and fell back onto the ground. The blond tried to clear her head and look for Daryl. Without warning, another blow landed on the side of her head and Beth felt her body give. She lay hurting on the pavement until a pair of hands picked her up and threw her over a man's shoulder. Beth struggled to make sense of up and down as she was being lifted. Suddenly, she was weightless again before slamming down onto a carpeted surface. The light suddenly disappeared and the sound of a slamming hood rang in her ears. Beth tried to sit up, but her head was spinning. The rumbled of an engine starting drowned out everything but the ringing in Beth's ears. "BETH!" The young girl turned her head, trying to pinpoint the noise, but it was quiet and sounded far away. "BETH!" Beth's head pounded and Beth tried to reach out towards the voice. "Daryl," she whispered before going unconscious.