AN: This is pretty much the first part of the old chapter one with a few things fixed up.

The Walking Deth - Part I

An Unexpected Journey - Chapter III

Proof

It had been about an hour or two after dusk when he had pulled open the trunk and motioned for me to hop in. I wondered how we would both fit in there comfortably, but we didn't have time to argue, the herd that had followed from the creek was only moments away.

The first couple of hours of the night were terrifying. The growls and snarls from the walkers were deafening. I had held all the muscles of my body tight with an anxious tension that left me achy. I had been gripping on to Daryl's knife until my knuckles turned blue, and I had lost all feeling in my fingers. My breath, when I remembered to breathe, was ragged and laborious. I kept envisioning a walker knocking the trunk open and they would all swarm in to devour Daryl and I. It was not a nice thought. That whole time Daryl kept himself cool, calm and collected, watching through the small opening, ready and waiting for whatever may come.

When the herd of walkers sounded like it was thinning out I had allowed myself to relax a little more. The moonlight was seeping through the gap of the trunk opening, only about half an inch, and it was casting a narrow line of light over Daryl's cool blue, stern eyes that were still peering outside. His legs were pressed up against mine, providing me with a somewhat familiar and comforting warmth, and another feeling similar to what I had felt when his hands were all over my thigh, that I wasn't sure I should be having.

I was struggling to stay awake by that point. I didn't know how Daryl was so alert, eyes unblinking, finger resting unmoving on the trigger of his crossbow, like a sentinel on watch. He was like my own personal guardian, and I knew if he wasn't here then I wouldn't have survived. He fed me and protected me even though he didn't have to. I knew that it would be hard for him, dragging around some kid. A kid who didn't know how to build a fire, or who screamed at the sight of leeches, who knew nothing much but how to farm and sing and how to take care of a baby. None of which were skills that we had need of now. Yet here he was again sacrificing himself for me, playing guard while I struggled to keep my eyes open.

I felt the smile grow on my face as the thoughts of him ran through my head. Daryl Dixon my rough, tough, rugged and muscled protector. For the first time since we had climbed in, his eyes slid away from the light and studied my face with a mild curiosity. Probably wondering what I found so amusing in this life threatening situation. His eyes only lingered on mine for a few seconds but they had already sent a jolt of the exhilarating feeling of wanting and desire.

I had dozed off some time after that, with curious thoughts of him on my mind. I wondered what it would feel like to have my whole body pressed against his as our legs were pressed together now. What would it feel like to have his hot breath across my neck or his rough hands on my waist? What would if feel like to have a grown man inside me? When I woke, from my unexpectedly pleasant dreams, I found Daryl was still staring outside. I didn't think he had slept at all, if he had, I hadn't seen it. The sun had come up now and it was starting to swelter inside the metal box. I wiped the sweat that had begun to drip from my brow, and noted the sweat that was beading on Daryl's forehead and streaming in rivulets down his cheeks and catching in his hair. I hadn't heard any walkers for some time now, and from what I could see out in the daylight there were none around, so I unwrapped the cloth holding the top down and climbed out, with Daryl squinting at the daylight, right behind me.

We scavenged around the wreckage of the car looking for anything we could use to make camp. I collected a mirror and a piece of glass I could use to make a fire, the way Daryl had taught me, and Daryl collected other bits and pieces he thought were useful. When we were done scavenging, we moved onwards through the trees so we could find a place to make camp and think about having some breakfast.

While Daryl went off hunting squirrel, I made a fire using the tips he had given me. I wondered if he would be impressed with what I had learnt. If he was, he probably wouldn't say anything.

I was somewhat amused when I caught Daryl pulling the skin of that snake. Amused and a little grossed out.

"What is that?" I had asked, scared of what his answer was going to be.

"Breakfast." He had replied matter of factly, like snake meat was the most commonly eaten food in the world.

I screwed up my nose in disgust, yet my stomach still grumbled with the pang of hunger, I had learnt not to be fussy over the last couple of years.

Daryl sat in his usual way, as far away from me as possible. I guess that was his thing, keeping people away, both physically and emotionally. Any time he was forced to be close to me or touch me, he groaned and grunted and recoiled away, like you normally would the snake I had just eaten.

I watched him and wondered what he might think of me. Judging by present body language he still saw me as some annoying sixteen year old that he and his group were forced to live with for survival. I wasn't worth getting to know. I wasn't important, I didn't fight, I didn't hunt, I couldn't track. I was just some tag along kid that he could do just fine without. Only problem was I wasn't a kid anymore, I was eighteen now, an adult in many respects, an adult just like him, and I only wished he could see me that way.

I didn't know how I was going to make him see me as an adult, there wasn't much I could do to prove I was an equal to him. Adults took care of themselves, and clearly I wasn't very good at that. They had jobs, but my only job had been to take care of the children. Adults drank alcohol, but that was something we were fresh out of. Although…

"I need a drink." I stated flatly. The words had slipped from my mouth before I was able to give them much thought.

Without even looking at me Daryl grabbed the dirty, green bottle of creek water and flung it over towards me.

I tossed it to the side.

"No I mean a real drink - as in alcohol." I elaborated.

He didn't respond. That was typical Daryl. Either silence or inappropriate smart ass remarks. He just sat there tearing into the snake meat. I couldn't even tell if he was listening to me.

"I've never had one…'cause of my dad…but he's not, exactly, around anymore so…" I dropped my eyes as I thought about daddy, and his words of advice I would never hear again. Daryl continued to ignore me.

"I thought we could go find some." I waited for the response, I was never going to get. "…okay, well enjoy your snake jerky." I stood up, walked over and pulled his knife from its spot in the fallen tree branch, and marched off into the trees.

I trudges through the woods, stepping over logs, and stumps and low bushes, wondering if he was going to follow me. I stopped and looked back to the camp to see he was still sitting there tearing at his snake.

"Jerk." I muttered to the trees.

I continued on alone working my way through the trees until I spotted four walkers. I could probably avoid them easily, but I still had that nervous feeling in my stomach, and I still kinda wished I had Daryl to back me up. I managed to distract them with a rock and the four of them stumbled off in the other direction. I heard a twig snap behind me and turned to find that Daryl had decided to follow me after all. As angry as I had been at him before for ignoring me, I was glad he was here with me. I followed him gratefully as he led the way.

The grateful feeling dissipated when my legs tangled in Daryl's trap and I realised he was leading me back to the crappy little camp we had made.

"I'm not staying in this suck-ass camp!" I flipped him the bird and turned away.

He gripped my hand firmly in his rough, hot hands and I pulled out of his grip.

"Hey! You had your fun." He growled.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you feel anythin'?"

Daryl glared at me angrily.

"Yeah you think everythin' is screwed, I guess that's a feelin'. So you wanna spend the rest of our lives starin' into a fire and eatin' mud snakes? Screw that! We might as well do somethin'." Daryl's eyes softened a little and I wondered what he would think about the 'somethin' I really wanted to do.

"I can take care of myself and I'm going to get a damn drink." I turned around and stomped off in the direction I had come from.

A few moments later I heard the familiar and comforting sound of his boots crunching the leaves behind me.

"You even twenty-one?" He growled from behind me.

"I'm eighteen. But I don't think anyone's gonna be hangin' 'round askin' to see ID."

I heard him snort with amusement behind me. "Guess not."

We came to a huge open field that I guessed used to be a golf course, but the grass was so overgrown now, it wouldn't be recognisable as one. Across the field I could see a run-down country club.

"Golfers like to booze it up right?" I asked turning to Daryl. He just glared at the group of walkers stumbling towards us. So I continued on ahead.

When we first got inside I had heard the snarls of walkers and we had prepared ourselves for an onslaught, but the sound had come from walkers who had tried hanging themselves. They were no threat, but I didn't like to leave them hanging there like that.

"We should finish them." I had suggested.

"What for?" Daryl said bluntly while he poked around the room, searching for supplies.

"We can't just leave them hanging there."

"Why not?"

I stepped towards them and tried to think how I was going to do it, they were quite high up, and if I got any closer they would be able to get a hold of me.

"You can shoot 'em. With your arrows." I pointed at his crossbow.

"I ain't gonna waste no arrows on 'em." He pointed up at the hanging, moving corpses. "Too much fuckin' 'round to get 'em back."

"So we're just gonna leave em?"

"Yeah."

Did I really expect anything else from Daryl Dixon? He was great at protecting humans, but he seemed to care little for humanity.

There were other bodies there, all in varying states of decay. No more walkers though, so they must have all had a more successful attempt at suicide than our hanging friends. I searched for anything of use finding a souvenir spoon from Washington and a small knife and putting them in my pockets. Daryl was rummaging around stuffing jewellery and valuables into a bag. What he wanted to do with that, I had no idea. Money and riches were a thing of the past. Now you were rich if you were living.

The snarling of more walkers outside prompted us to pick up the pace and delve deeper into the country club.

There wasn't much to see. People had obviously tried to hold out in there as long as possible and the place smelt of festering bodies, and stale air. The place was a mess, filled with bags of trash, rotting food, and dozens of disappointingly empty bottles. I did find a bottle of what I assumed was red wine but before I even got to open it and smell what was inside a walker had sprung out and I had to use the bottle to defend myself, breaking it over the walkers skull, and forcing the jagged edges of glass into its face. After a struggle I finished it off with the knife I had found earlier. I turned to find Daryl had been watching me struggle with it.

"Thanks for the help."

"You said you could take care o' yourself, you did."

He walked off, and I questioned myself on why I even still found that asshole attractive.

After some more searching around we came across the pro shop. It was filled with racks of dorky old golfer clothes but there was a cute yellow tee that caught my attention. It had been weeks since I had changed my clothes and even longer since I had worn anything this nice.

I grabbed a tee and a knitted white cardigan to go with it. I took them behind a dressing screen, but there were boxes and piles of clothing in the way so I couldn't get completely behind there. It was no matter, Daryl had already seen just about everything during the time we spent in the woods. Daryl seemed pretty pre-occupied with the til, but I sensed eyes on me when I had taken off my old sweaty and stained tank. I turned around and caught a glimpse of Daryl peering at me in my topless state. He took his eyes off me the second I looked at them, and I felt the heat creep into my cheeks along with a satisfied smirk.

The fresh clothes didn't last for long. A group of walkers had chased us into the locker room, and Daryl had decided to finish one off with a golf club. I had been standing in prime position and the finishing blow had sent walker brains all over my new outfit. I took off the cardigan and left it on the floor. There was no room for wearing white in this world anymore anyway.

We finally made it to the bar and I searched through the dozens of glass bottles trying to find anything drinkable. I found a mostly empty bottle of peach schnapps. It sounded nice, but Daryl reckons it wasn't. I searched around for a clean glass while Daryl did his usual thing. Ignored me. He was playing darts throwing them at portraits on the wall, he hadn't even spared me a glance since we had got in the room.

I looked into the bottle of my journeys intention, and thought about how much this was not like how I wanted it to be. My first drink might have been with my friends down at the creek. Maybe even Maggie would have let me have my first drink with her. It would have been with someone I cared about and who cared about me, but now there was just me and Daryl. Daryl who seemed like he hated me, who thought I was just some unshakable pain in the ass.

I was feeling lost and alone. Daryl had been good company, as far as keeping me alive, but I missed being actually cared about. I missed Maggie and Judith and I especially missed my dad. I started sobbing while I rubbed me hands over the bottle, wishing for things I would never have.

My thoughts were interrupted by a dirty hand reaching in front of me and grabbing the bottle. Daryl stalked away holding the bottle of schnapps and angrily threw it to the ground destroying it and its contents.

He waved his hand angrily towards the smashed bottle.

"Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damn peach schnapps."

Daryl had led me to a dump of a cabin come moonshine still. The cabin looked like it had been a dump even before the turn. It was filthy and smelt like old gym socks, and it was riddled with rubbish and junk. Daryl scouted the place out while I put the crate down inside on the small camp table. He found a glass for me and blew out the dust and then opened one of the jars and poured the contents in to the glass.

"That's a real first drink right there." he said, nodding to the glass that now held moonshine.

I was a little hesitant. I had heard a lot about moonshine. That it was highly flammable and lethal in high doses.

"Whatsa matter?" Daryl asked while I stared at the glass.

"Nothin'…It's just…my dad always said bad moonshine can make you blind."

"Nothin' worth seein' out there anymore anyway."

That was true. And it was alcohol and that was what I wanted. I couldn't chicken out now and prove to Daryl that deep down I was still just a child. So I took a swig.

It was awful. I don't think I had ever tasted anything so awful. It burnt my nose and my throat and made my eyes water and it took all my stubborn determination not to spit it straight back out. Come on Beth this is what you need to do to prove yourself, just drink it. The second swig wasn't so bad, I had probably burnt all my tastebuds away.

I grabbed the jar and started pouring another drink.

"Whoa slow down."

"This one's for you." I beamed up at Daryl.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Why?"

"Someone's gotta keep watch."

What was the point of that? Me sitting here getting drunk by myself while he just watched. I was hoping maybe if we drank together it would bring us closer, that was what alcohol did right? I was really getting sick of this open space between us that he didn't seem to want to cross, and all my efforts to bring us closer together were just being ignored or brushed away.

"So what you're like my chaperone now?" Seemingly pointing out the fact that he was so much older than me.

"Just drink lots of water." He suggested. I wasn't even sure if he was playing.

I was still just a kid to him.

"Yes, Mr Dixon." I replied sardonically.

Daryl secured the cabin ready for the night, boarding up the windows and preparing an escape route. I was enjoying the feeling of warmth that was creeping through my body and the buzzing feeling in my head. It also seemed to call more attention to the deeper, tight clenching sensation that burned between my legs every time I looked over at Daryl, as I watched his muscles flex, nailed boards into the wall.

I tried to shake the feeling and turned my attention to the wacky and crazy knick knacks that littered the cabin. I wondered what kind of people had lived here.

"My dad, that's who."

I lowered my eyes, hoping I hadn't offended him.

"He's a dumbass. He'd set those things up on top of the TV set and use them as target practice"

"He shot things inside your house?" What kind of dumbass had raised this man in front of me?

Daryl gave me a description of the purpose of some of the junk in the room. It had no purpose really, just stuff to break and shoot at. Daryl and I really did come from completely different worlds. Maybe that why it was so hard for us to get close to each other.

A walker had found its way to the outside of the cabin and was snarling outside. We agreed that we would leave it be for now, which left us pretty much trapped inside for the time being. That was enough to convince Daryl to have a drink with me, since there was nothing else he could do really. We raised our glasses, and I wondered what a drunk Daryl would be like.