He wanted to hug her right then and there. Daryl stood up, cautious of the other men in the group now more than ever.
"He can't be claimin' her there's rules!", One guy complained. Most of them probably hadn't got any in years and a girl like Beth wasn't exactly harsh on the eyes. He picked his crossbow up, holding it single handedly as he made his way over to help her untangle from the strings. She was looking at him with her brows furrowed together in confusion, which was probably about the claiming.
Joe was frowning. Daryl dreaded the outcome of this, but he needed to leave the group sometime, as he'd told them. Beth's hand was still on his shoulder from when she was detangling herself. Joe gazed at her, inspecting her, and she removed her hand from his shoulder, taking a step to the side behind him.
"We haven't made rule's on it yet.", Joe began, still eyeing Beth. It made Daryl tense the slightest amount. His crossbow was already ready, he just needed to discreetly load a bolt in it. "-But I think we need to make one.", he finished. They weren't the sharin' type before, but now that it had come down to Beth, of course that changed. Speaking of Beth, he could feel her behind him, yet she hadn't spoken a word. He heard a rubbing behind him and knew she'd taken out a knife as if they could take on six men at once. Maybe if Beth still had the gun they could, but he assumed she didn't. Fuck it. He thought, putting a bolt into his crossbow in plain sight. Joe flicked his eyebrows up, giving him a look that practically begged him to do it.
"I said I'd be leavin' the group some day.", Daryl raised the crossbow, aiming directly at Joe. He wouldn't pull the trigger now, since most of the men had weapons pointed at both of them.
"Alright.", Joe replied. It seemed too easy to Daryl he'd give up Beth, the other guys filled the awkward silence with a groan of disappointment.
"Start walkin'.", he told Beth behind him without moving his head. He heard her quiet footsteps, and then a crash of her knocking into the string of cans. A few more jingles and he knew she was out of the trap and on the other side. He grabbed his trash bag and backed away, keeping a close eye on them. Most men had lowered their weapons. When he got to the trap, he handed his crossbow over to Beth, whose arms sunk a hair from the weight, but she could handle herself. He went in between the two wires, cans clinking on each other as he did so. He took his crossbow back, leading her far away from that camp.
The sun was up, it was barely past dawn; still quite dark outside. He led her through areas that wouldn't leave a trail, taking precautions. The whole day they'd walked Beth hadn't said a word, making him think this was some fucked up dream he was having and any minute she'd turn around and bite him.
During the night he'd found an old house caked in dust, no walkers inside. It was dirty, unlike the mortician's place. There was also no piano, which he didn't know why that was something important he looked for. With the windows boarded up, and the door also, he decided it was safe enough to sit. Before he sat, he noticed something in the living room. They'd entered through the kitchen, and the layout of the house made it easy for him to miss something- a fireplace.
Looters had been here, so there wasn't much left in the house. There were a few logs, but nothing to light a fire with.
"Here.", He finally heard her voice behind him, and a small, plastic object was thrown to him. Where in the hell had she gotten a lighter? He'd have to ask. He lit up an old photo of someone, using it to start the log off, soon enough the two logs left were up in flames, and he sat by the fire, setting his crossbow to the side in arm's reach. Beth sat beside him, her knees tucked into her chest and her eyes watching the fire. Something about her seemed different- her hair was down, but the small braid was still present in it.
"So where you been?", Daryl asked, maintaining his calm. She seemed unharmed, no bruises. If she had bruises, it had been a couple of days and they could have faded by now if they weren't too dark. He didn't have her stuff that had been dropped, he wondered if she'd be mad at him for that. Was she mad at him for not rescuing her, too?
"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Dixon"
[A/N: Okay.. so I kind of didn't expect 8 reviews in an hour o_o or to be threatened with creepy cannibals and crossbows, which kind of (did) lead me to making another chapter. It took me forever to decide where I was going to go with this (also i'm running on 24 hours of no sleep since I was procrastinating thinking of a plot with internet things) , and i'm not gonna lie I was tempted to leave it at one chapter. I'm having fun with it so far and apparently you guys are too :3 Thank you for all the reviews and letting me know you liked the first chapter. :) -Sam]