Hey everybody! I'm back with a new chapter and I'm now more certain about where I'm going with this fic. I really enjoy working on it (since it is some kind of therapy to me, to keep me calm and not freak out about next week's episode) even though I'm pretty sure that it's very poorly written and I'm sorry for that. :/

Whatsoever, I hope you enjoy the storyline.

When she woke up her back and legs were chilly, but her arms and chest were covered in warmth. She was laying comfortably on his lap with her head, her arms wrapped around his legs and waist. She was laying on his lap. She opened up her eyes wide, feeling the urge to jump up and bring at least two metres of space between them. Instead she stayed where she was. She knew it was to close for him and that he'd feel uncomfortable about it, even though she herself pretty much enjoyed it. But she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable around her.

Slowly she pushed herself up, to not waken him and quietly crawled away from him on her knees. Then she disentangled her hands from his body and drew backwards. For a few seconds she looked at him, as he was sleeping calmly. He leaned against the wooden wall of the stand, his left arm was wrapped around his crossbow, the other one lay on the ground next to him, where she had been laying. His head was slightly bent to his left side. He looked older than he was at this moment (or at least older as she thought he was), exhausted and broken. She couldn't stand this look, it felt as she was invading his personal space way too much.

Carefully she crawled towards her backpack and searched it for the toothpaste they had found a few days ago. She put a bit on her finger, because she had no toothbrush and started to scrub her teeth. When she finished she took a sip from the water bottle to clean her mouth and spit it down the ladder.

The noise seemed to have woken him since he suddenly jerked is head up and glanced at her, before realizing what she was doing. She cleared her throat, "Morning".

"Morning," he replied, pulling his legs, getting up and stretching. "Want some?" she asked and offered him the toothpaste.

"Thanks," he mumbled and put it on his finger. She looked away, still feeling shy towards the intimacy she had felt between them just a few minutes ago. Even though she had felt like and invader she had liked seeing him without that bad-tempered look on his face.

She knew that he was carrying a heavy burden, that he was building walls to defend himself against any threat – physically or emotionally. She wanted to understand him and tell him, that it was okay. But actually she didn't get a thing of it.

He handed the toothpaste back without a word and took the water bottle to bathe his mouth.

She put it in her backpack and dug out a piece of soap. When she made the attempt to pour water on her hands, he stopped her.

"It's our last water. We should save it. Maybe we will come across a stream or a pool t'day. You can wash there."

Even though it went against her, she pocketed the soap again and packed her stuff together.

"Where will we be going today?" she asked.

"Find a house or a store to stockpile our supplies", he answered shortly.

"Daryl, shouldn't we find a house? I mean a safehouse, to stay for a while. The nights are getting colder, and maybe we need to work out a plan to meet with the others."

He shrugged. "Theres no way to find the others. They're gone or dead. And what are we supposed to do with a safehouse? We will run out of food quick and then we will have to leave anyway. Also there's nowhere to be safe. I say we keep on movin'."

She knew there was no way on argue with him. He was the leader and she would follow.

Later that day they eventually found a stream, so they could refill their bottles and have a wash. When Daryl took off his shirt he brought a little distance between them and discretely turned his back to her, so she could undress, too. It was a silent agreement between them which they had kept up for the last weeks. He would never leave her sight, but take enough time to let her finish before turning around. It was more difficult with other bodily functions they had to comply with. Usually Daryl would just step behind a tree for a minute, but Beth felt really uncomfortable with the lack of privacy.

She quickly took of her tee but kept her bra on and splashed water over her body. Then she rubbed the soap over her skin and washed it off. Because of the lack of towels, she took her shirt back on while still wet. She wondered how long they could keep on doing this. It was almost autumn and for her taste it was already way too cold to wash in the open. Since the apocalypse she had almost constantly lived in a house (or at least something like that) and only spent few days on the run. Now they had been in this situation for a couple of weeks, and it was hard for her to get used to it.

She took off her boots and pants, but slipped over a long sweater she had found a few days ago that was way too big for her but kept her warm and guaranteed her more privacy. She quickly washed her legs and feet and started to shiver with cold. She put on an extra pair of socks to make her feet get warm and dry as soon as possible and slipped her trousers back on. She then glanced over to Daryl. He still wasn't dressed again and she found it very sweet that he took extra time to give her privacy because she was certain that he needed less than a minute to finish.

She started to rummage around in her backpack noisily to signal that she was ready to leave. He understood the hint and came back.

They left without a further word. After one or two hours of walking in silence they came across a narrow road. Daryl stopped and looked left and right to figure out where to go.

"Shall we follow the road," Beth asked. "Maybe it will lead us to a house or so..."

Daryl nodded.

"Let's head south," he said an turned to the left.

Wherever south is.

"You know what I miss most?," she suddenly started to chat, "Bathroom facilities! A hot shower or a real working toilet. Even a wash-bowl just to wash your hands whenever you want to. And a hairbrush. And shampoo! Oh how I miss shampoo! Even dry shampoo. And my electric toothbrush. I don't even know when I felt clean for the last time."

She stopped her chitchat to give him a chance to reply, but he just gave her an odd look and a nod and continued to walk.

"And how I would love to take a bath. I mean a real bath, hot and long and with lots of foam. I would stay in until my hands and feet got totally shriveled."

"Never took a bath," he shortly replied.

She fell in puzzled silence for a few seconds. He had allowed her to learn something about him. Never took a bath. She felt very stupid about what she had just been saying. She must seem like a real spoiled bitch to him.

"No need for staring, girl," he said with slight amusement in his voice. "Ya could've known, could ya?"

She thought about his comment for a second and then tried to imagine Daryl Dixon in a bubble bath. The idea was so hilarious that she immediately burst out into laughter. She couldn't hold it back and laughed so hard that she had to stop walking and bent down to support herself on her knees.

"What's so funny,?" he asked and she could hear her laughter amusing him.

"It's just...," she gasped for air, "You in a bathtub... with lots of foam and bubbles and... oh my god, hahaha..."

He chuckled roughly and deep and it made her happy to see a smile on his face.

"You're an unbelievable little Missy, " he said.

"I am unbelievable, Mr. Grinch,?" she replied. "You can't be serious. I'm no walking mystery that never took a bath. I'm just a girl stuck in a totally awkward situation."

Her smile dropped. It sounded different from what she had actually tried to say. When she looked up in his face she knew that he had taken it wrong. He stared at her with the old grim look he always wore and she could see that her words hurt him.

"I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay."

"No it isn't, I didn't want to say... I'm not... I'm glad I'm with you." It sounded like a cheap like, although it wasn't. She enjoyed is awkward company, even though he sometimes freaked her out. But she felt an inexplicable warmth for him and she liked the way he cared about her.

"Just leave it," he replied, "Need to carry on."

With that he turned around and marched on.

"Daryl please, let's talk through this!" she exclaimed, but he kept on walking. She took a deep breath and paused a little longer while watching his back. She just wanted to follow him, when suddenly a walker stumbled on the street in front of her and approached her with outstretched arms. She let out a small cry and stumbled backwards reaching for the knife she carried. The walker reached her quickly and she lifted her arm to draw the knife deep into his skull when she tripped over something and fell. The thing quickly lunged at her and as she wanted to attack it again, she realized that she had lost her knife. A loud scream of panic escaped her. "DARYL!"

But before she could blink an arrow pierced the walkers head. The older man shoved it away from her and offered her a hand to help her get up. She trembled with the aftermath of fear and just let herself fall against his chest. He stiffened for a second, but then hugged her tightly.

"It's okay," he whispered, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here."

She choked her tears off but still tried to stabilise her emotions. No talking, laughter, fear for death all this within a few minutes – it had just been too much.

He hugged her tighter and rocked her back and forth. The human contact felt so good and comforting, that she dug her face deep into his chest and let him embrace her longer than she actually needed. But since he didn't seem to mind she wanted to savour it as long as possible.

Finally he loosened his grip on her and lifted her chin with his hand.

"You okay again?

She nodded.

"Want to carry on? We need to find food and shelter for the night."

She nodded again. He turned around to march on, but when she wanted to follow him, he silently grabbed her hand. She looked at it for a second and walked beside him with a faint smile on her face.