Author's Note: First of all I want to address a review that this story had. The review said: "You must really hate the character of Daryl." I don't know if that is how the story was perceived by that person alone or if that was the consensus. Be as it may, I want to make it clear that I love Daryl, in fact, he is my personal favorite in the show, and when it looked like he was going to die in TWD, I was as horrified as everybody else.

With that being said, my Daryl is only human. He isn't made of steel. He gets angry, frustrated, jealous, scared and afraid. So yes, he will have his moments where he will be cruel and an asshole, as we all do. But he's still Daryl, and he will be awesome. Just wait and see.

With that being said, I now present a brand new chapter to you guys. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

A huuuuuuuge thanks for all the reviews. Serious guys, I smile every time I receive one. Knowing someone is reading this and having a good time is all I could ever hope.

Disclaimer: I do not, I repeat, I do not own TWD.

Beth took a carefully calculated step to the right.

And immediately heard the distinctive sound of a tree branch snapping. Loudly.

"Fuck!" She cursed softly.

And widened her eyes as soon as the words crossed her mouth. Beth Greene didn't curse, not at all. It wasn't something her catholic father would've approved, anyway. But it was definitely something Merle Dixon often said, and when he didn't explicitly said it the word was clearly being thought loudly inside his head. She hadn't been aware that his habit had become hers.

Not like it mattered anyway. Her father wasn't there to scold her. Who knows? Maybe he really was dead, and that would mean carte blanche to say whatever she pleased.

She gripped the knife in her hand strongly, trying to snap out of the dark thoughts that sometimes took hold of her at the most unpredictable times.

Her father wasn't dead. He was alive. Not dead. Alive.

That was the mantra she said to herself. And the thing was, Beth truly believed he was alive, but sometimes the doubt would creep up on her and Daryl's voice would whisper in her ear about how stupid and naive she was being. There was no controlling it.

"You're awful at this." Almost like conjured, Daryl was suddenly right there. Leaning against a tree next to her, as though he was there the entire time.

"I know," She admitted, painfully aware of how difficult this was being. Merle wasn't the most patient teacher on the planet, and, after a week, he had already made it clear, in no uncertain terms, how much better she should be by now.

Beth could say a lot else. She could say that this was her first week, that she never needed to be this quiet before, that she was trying as hard as she could... But in the end, it was all excuses. It didn't matter why she wasn't getting it, what mattered was the lack of results both of them could see in her.

It was depressing, but, nonetheless, the truth.

"You're not looking at the whole forest. Instead, you're focussing ridiculously hard on a single piece of ground, and that puts you on the worst path possible. If you saw the whole picture you could imagine all the possibilities and, consequently, choose the easiest way." He was speaking so calmly that she didn't dare to breathe a little bit louder, much less say something.

He wasn't expecting an answer anyway, it seemed, because he continued without a pause.

"Look ahead," He pointed to the path right ahead of her. "if you were to continue in this direction you'll end up having to choose between stepping on a pile of leaves or over that big hole. None of which are preferable choices. If you'd looked at what was in front of you, rather than going left you would have gone to the northeast, where the track was much more suitable."

"I know Merle is not only training you to be quiet and efficient. It's not difficult to see he is trying to make a tracker out of you, and that's a serious thing. Having that particular set of skills makes people expect you to not only find them food but to locate the way they should follow. That's some big responsibility, not to be taken lightly." His face was intense in a way Beth had never seen before — like he was trying to pass on some important message. "Are you ready to have people die because of your decisions?"

"Are you kidding me?" She asked, her hands shaking. "I don't even know how to do anything. I barely get half a mile away from the cabin before I inevitably draw walkers with the noise I make."

"Do you kill them?"

"What?"

"The walkers, do you kill them?"

"No." Beth knew that wasn't the answer he wanted. "Merle always does it."

"And when you come here alone?" He pressed. "Like right now."

"I run." She felt her face becoming all warm. Damn.

"Run?" He was frowning darkly at her now. "Why?"

She was sure he knew why. "Because I'm afraid." Weak Beth. Her hands were shaking so hard now that is was notable.

"Afraid to kill or afraid to face your fears?" His eyes were focusing on her hands. "Merle taught you how to get close to them, how to face them. So what's the problem?"

Damn.

"I'm not ready to kill," She whispered as softly as she could, not wanting her dirty secret to be spoken at all.

"I can't hear you." You know what? Beth was, at that moment, certain that he had, indeed, heard her perfectly clear. But it wasn't enough to make her say it. No. He wanted her to scream it to the world.

"I'm not ready to kill," She repeated, trying to look him in the eyes.

"And you think that someday you'll be ready? That anyone is ever ready to kill?"

"You seem okay with it." God, she couldn't believe she said it.

"You think so?" He didn't look angry, which was both great and surprising.

"Yes, I do. I mean, you always seem so unaffected by everything. Like you're not surprised by any of this," Beth said, gesturing to the space surrounding them. "Almost as if the apocalypse is nothing but an inconvenience to you. Don't you get frustrated? Don't you miss your life?"

"Unaffected? My old life sucked, this life sucks. There's nothing to miss," He said, as a matter of fact.

She frowned and took a step forward. "Daryl..." She wanted to say a lot, wanted to ask him about his life but didn't know what to say.

"Don't," He said forcefully. "Spare me. I don't need your pity."

"I couldn't pity you if I tried," She replied truthfully, then, gesturing to her own figure, she added. "As we are right now, I'm way more pitiful than you could ever hope to be Mr. Dixon."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"It's been two weeks now. How long must I wait before we can fucking go after my family?" Beth wasn't screaming, per se, she liked to think that she was a strong woman exposing her thoughts.

The brothers turned to each other to share looks, but Beth simply wasn't having it that day.

"Could you not?" At their confused faces, she continued. "Exclude me, that's it." She then softened her features. "I know you guys are used to doing everything together, only the two of you. But it's really frustrating to feel like I'm never included in the discussions. I haven't learned Dixon Talk yet, so the looks you share just make me more confused."

Well, that was a first. The Dixon brothers looked awkward. If the situation weren't so serious, Beth would've laughed.

"Just try to talk instead of trading looks," she added. "It can't be that hard."

"Fine." Merle was the first to snap out of it. "I think you're not strong enough to survive out there yet." Ouch. Maybe the looks weren't so bad.

"Yes, perhaps I'm not. But we don't have the time to make me competent." She was trying to be reasonable. "Every minute we wait could mean the death somebody. I'll have to learn as we go."

"That would be lovely if the world wasn't infested with dead people walking and trying to murder you," Merle replied. " We'll have to sleep in the woods. Are you aware of that?"

"Only for a few nights." Beth didn't understand the point. "Weren't we keeping the cabin as a return point?"

"No." Merle's answer was dry and cutting. "You were hysterical that night, and I needed you to agree to stay put. We are not coming back here."

"Well, that was nice of you." She made sure her tone was transmitting all of her displeasure.

"We have to return to the farm," Daryl added. "That will be where the tracks are, with any luck."

The farm. It was probably all destroyed and burned. Her childhood house, the place where she had been born.

"But what if they did the same thing we did and drove away?" There, she said the question that was haunting her the whole time they were in the cabin.

"Then there's nothing we can do," Merle answer was like a sentence being giving.

Beth hugged her knees tight. What if she never saw her family again?

"Look, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Apparently, it was Daryl's turn to be reasonable. "Let's focus on getting there first."

He was right, of course. But it wasn't easy to forget the fact that she may never see her sister again. Or her father. Or Jimmy.

Fuck, Jimmy.

She realized she hadn't thought about him before. What kind of girlfriend didn't think about their boyfriend's well-being? There she was, worried sick for her family, wondering how they were and where they may be, and she hadn't even spared a thought to Jimmy.

"Did you see Jimmy before we left?" Beth was looking at both of them. Desperately trying to believe he had been with Maggie.

"The little boyfriend?" Merle laughed. "He seemed to think he could take on the whole herd of walkers."

"No!" He wouldn't be so stupid, surely.

"Yes, actually." Daryl looked bored with this conversation. "He suggested we all stayed at the farm and not worry about a thing."

"He must have left when the walkers arrived." Yes, that's what she would believe. He left. He was alive. They were all alive.

"Of course, with all his skills I have no doubt he's alive," Merle answered, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, what we need to decide is what we're going to do. Wait for a little longer or go to the farm?"

They all looked at each other, not knowing how to decide.

"You know what? Let's vote." Merle apparently got tired of waiting.

"Do I get a vote too?" Beth was sure she deserved a vote, it was her life after all. But with Merle, you could never be certain.

"You get half a vote, kiddo." He looked very amused at her question.

"Damn you; I want a whole vote." She was trying to control the pouting that she felt forming on her face.

As Merle opened his mouth to say something — probably something better left unsaid — Daryl spoke: "Yes, you get a whole vote. Don't fall for Merle's stupid games." Ok, he totally didn't need to use a tone that suggested she was a silly kid. "Let's just fucking vote already."

"I say no. " Merle was serious now. "Beth isn't ready; she needs more time."

"I vote yes." Beth knew her vote was predictable. "There's no time to lose. I can learn as I go."

They both turned to Daryl, who now had to decide. Beth already knew he would vote no. He didn't care for her family or anybody else; there was no reason for him to vote any different.

So no one was more surprised than her when he said, without a pause: "Yes, I vote for us to go." He turned to Merle and completed. "We've been here too long as it is. We need to move Merle. It's time."

And, just like that, it was decided. They were going back to the farm.

Beth looked through the window and hoped the rain didn't come back. Walking in the mud wouldn't be funny.

AN2: Merle being protective, Daryl being understanding and Beth remembering she has a boyfriend. What is next? The apocalypse?

Sorry, I couldn't help myself.