Daryl looked for Beth when he was done for the day, almost every day in the past two weeks or so. He doesn't know why he does it but it is beginning to form into a habit of his, a routine. It's automatic by this point. He actually went looking for her like some kind of lost puppy trying to find its owner.
How does he feel about that? Well, it's a complicated answer, one that he tried not mull over too much.
Beth was either in one of two places at the end of the day, the kitchen or laundry room. He found that out real quick. He would follow the sound of her singing, her beautiful voice that for some reason he never really appreciated until now. When he would find her, he watched her for a few seconds before letting her know of his presence—which by the way is super fucking creepy, yet he still did it against his better judgment. Because guess what? He's an idiot.
Way to go Daryl. Way to go.
He doesn't mean to be creepy about it. In fact, it's the last thing he wanted. But after a day of killing dead people who wanted to rip the flesh off of him and devour him completely, the sight of Beth singing and smiling was something he wanted to hold onto as a snapshot image after a day of dealing with death. It was nice to know not everyone was so sullen around here, and by everyone he mainly means himself.
There was some kind of aura around Beth that made him feel drawn to her. He knew that much. Maybe she was his outlet, his way of dealing with the horror he dealt with all day long, every day. Beth was this incredible light that he needed to stay sane. Sometimes he stayed with her for a few minutes and other times it was way more than that.
He never expected to like being around her so much.
Merle would have joked that he was whipped or something stupid like that. He wasn't. He couldn't be. He simply enjoyed her company, that was all.
No matter what, he still heard Merle's mocking voice in his head.
Why ya followin' little blondie around there, little brother? Actin' like you some kind of lost animal. Didn't teach you to be that way. Practically stalking her.
What do ya need her for, huh?
She don't want you there.
Go back to killin' shit and leave Little Bo Peep ta do the chores. It's what women were born ta do anyways. Ain't your job to check on her.
Fuck his brother and his stupid ass opinions. He wished he could get Merle's voice out if his head. It was always there, never letting up, never giving him some sort of a break. Drowning it out had become easier with the prison group around. He could rationalize his thoughts better, ignore his brother's annoying voice that wanted him to do stupid things—idiotic things. It was either pressing him to do something he didn't want to do or telling he wasn't good enough.
Exactly what the real life Merle did to him.
He wanted it to stop, to sever that grip his brother had on him. It sounded brutal, and it was. Only he doesn't know how to get rid of the voice. It had been there for so long. Getting rid of it seemed damn near impossible.
There was a time where he would have listened to it. Not anymore. He was done with that. He didn't want to be the person his brother wanted him to be, or worse, the person Merle was.
He was out there somewhere, Daryl is sure of it. Merle knew how to survive anything. Part of him wanted to know where he was and the other part didn't. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to feel obligated to go find him. Merle would screw this up for him, this whole prison thing that they all had going for them. Admittedly, he liked it here. He liked the people and what he could do around here. He felt useful for once in his life, like he was actually good at something.
And it's not like he doesn't care for his brother, he does. For the longest time it had been only the two of them taking on the world. Their separation had caused him a lot of internal struggle in the beginning—who was he without Merle? Now it was different. Merle wasn't here to boss him around, no orders to follow from him.
He got an idea of who he was without his brother. Beth had pointed out days ago that he was a person who people relied on, looked up to. He doesn't believe the looking up to part, but he can see how others rely on him.
So if he somehow liked being around Beth he was damn well going to do that. He wasn't going to listen to the mocking voice inside his head that would taunt him about it anymore. What good would that even do except give him a raging headache? And he isn't looking to pop a Tylenol every two seconds because Merle's voice is in his head and won't let up. Screw that.
Going back to Beth, in the past few weeks he kept coming up with excuses to be around her after he was back from a number of runs he went on with various people. He would grab things for Judith and insist on being the one to bring them to her. He does like to see Judith too. That little one has had a special place in Daryl's heart from the day she was born. He was fond of her to say the least, and was even fonder of her caretaker.
Maybe Beth didn't see right through him and his excuses, maybe she did.
He wasn't sure about anything anymore. Ever since the world went to shit it was all a blur to him. It used to be black and white to Daryl. Plain and simple. Now everything was covered in a gray mess.
Weeks went by and blended together with Daryl going out on a few more runs with people that took up a bulk of the day. They had collected plenty of things that they were in need of while they were out so he guessed that they would not be a need to go on another run for a while unless they needed something specific.
However, today was one of those days where there was not much to do around the prison. Daryl felt misplaced. He didn't have anywhere to go or anything to actually do; nothing needed to be done. There were few walkers that were around the fences, none of them gathering over the nighttime. They had just been on several runs recently so the prison was practically fully stocked with all of the necessities.
Mostly people were relaxing while they could, seizing the rare opportunity. Even Rick had stopped playing farmer for the day and was spending some quality time with Carl and Judith, something he had not done in a while.
Daryl felt like he couldn't stop working. When he stopped working that meant he was alone with his thoughts, a place he didn't want to be in right now.
Daryl sat on his bed and stared at the wall, trying to think of something to do around this place. It was midday by this point and he couldn't do nothing for the rest of the evening. What was he supposed to do? Stare at the blank wall all evening? That would make him go insane.
He heard the familiar sound of footsteps and humming coming down the row of cells. His ears could pick that sound out of a crowd if he wanted to. Daryl watched the open space by the front of his cell until Beth appeared. He could tell that she was in her usual cheerful mood, smiling like she always did when she ran into him. "Hey, stranger," she commented. "Haven't seen you around lately."
"Sorry. I've been busy. Volunteered to go out on a bunch of runs this week. It paid off though, got a lot of stuff we needed."
"That's okay. Carol and Maggie have been keeping me really busy too. There's been lots to do. And Judith had a bit of a cough the past few days so I've been up with her a lot at night so I've been trying to catch up on some sleep during the day."
Why didn't he hear about this? Now that he inspected her further, he could see the darker color that was under her eyes. He could not ignore the concern he felt. "Is she sick? Did she get you sick?"
Beth shook her head and leaned against the wall. "She had a little bit of a cold for a couple days there. It wasn't serious. We already had some medicine for it and my dad said she would be fine. She didn't pass it on to anyone. So don't worry. I'm germ free. Nothing contagious coming your way."
"Not worried about that," he replied. "Just making sure you two are okay." He scratched his chin before he quickly added, "Next time can you let me know? I'll check in on you…and Judith."
Beth smiled at him. "Sure thing." She glanced around his plain cell after pushing herself off of the wall. There wasn't much to look at. His cell was not like Beth's. He never felt the need to decorate it or anything like that; he did admire that about Beth though, that she was creative. He had always kept things like that to a minimum. A bed and some sheets were perfect for him. Nothing more was necessary.
"What are you up to today? Doesn't seem like much is goin' on. Things are quiet. It's strange."
He agreed. There was something eerie about this day. He couldn't describe the feeling. It was sort of like the feeling of forgetting something and not knowing what is was that was forgotten. It was a feeling that pestered him all day long. He kept waiting for the ball to drop and something horrible happen to interrupt the peacefulness the prison was currently experiencing. Nothing like this lasted for too long.
Daryl glanced around the room and found his crossbow that was leaned up against the wall. He almost felt like he had been neglecting it lately, not needing to use it much. He killed a few walkers here and there but other than that it had been resting in the same spot in his cell. He missed using it, as weird as that sounded. His crossbow was like a limb to him. He felt attached to it in a strange way, always had been. Maybe because it was the one thing that was strictly his. It belonged only to Daryl. "I was thinkin' maybe I'd go huntin since there's not much else to do around here. Rick don't need me for anythin'. People are all doing their own thing. Figure I might as well go out while I can."
"Yeah, you haven't been out in a while. We haven't been eating a lot of meat around here, have we?"
His eyes narrowed at hers. "Are ya hinting at somethin' over there, Greene?"
Beth took a few steps and clutched the metal at the end of his bunk bed. She pressed her cheek against it and flashed him a guilty looking grin. "I'm not hinting," she defended weakly and not the least bit believable. "Only making an observation."
"Pfft."
Beth laughed and pointed over to his crossbow. "You gonna bring me something good back that I can make dinner with?"
"Possibly."
"And no more squirrels!" She pleaded, closing her eyes. "Please. I don't think I can ever eat another one."
Yeah, it wasn't exactly the best to Daryl either. He preferred deer meat over mostly anything. It was a shame that there wasn't too many of those hanging around. "Squirrel not your favorite?"
She opened her eyes and furrowed her brows. "It's not anyone's favorite, Daryl. It's squirrel. A furry little animal that runs up trees and eats acorns all day long. How good could it possibly taste?"
They shared a laugh about it. He's sure that Beth is one of the only ones around here that can make him truly laugh. That's another thing he liked about her (boy, was that list beginning to get long the more time he spent with her).
"How long did it take you to learn how to use that?" She pointed back over to where his crossbow was. "Seems difficult."
Daryl shook his head, not even wanting to think about the length of time it took him to learn how to use a crossbow. Sure, he had started out as a kid, but it took a long time to get acclimated to the crossbow and how to accurately shoot it. "Far too long. Took forever, and I ain't kiddin' 'bout that. Was just a kid when I started out and the damn crossbow was so heavy. I didn't think I'd ever learn how to use it. Kinda hated it at first. Guess it grew on me after a while, after I started gettin' good at it."
Wow. All she had asked for was how long it took to learn and he went on a rambling paragraph about it. Nice work there, Dixon.
"I wish I knew how to use a weapon like that. Any kind of weapon, really. I'm kind of useless when it comes to that sort of stuff. And you're so…amazing at it."
He brushed of the compliment. "Just gotta find what works for you, ya know, what you're comfortable with and practice. Practice all the time. That's all it really takes." Daryl racked his brain for what he thought Beth would be good at using as a weapon. He had seen her down by the fence with the walkers, plunging the pole into their heads like it was nothing. He guessed that she could be pretty good with a knife if she were taught. "Hey, maybe Michonne will let you use her katana."
She let out a laugh that revealed her disbelief in that last part. "Right. Me? With a sword? That sounds…frightening. To all who are involved."
"Never know," he suggested. "Could be what you're good at. Don't knock it till ya try it."
He wasn't completely serious. He himself could not see little Beth Greene swinging around a katana and chopping of walker's heads. Though it would be something he would pay to see, if it ever happened. An intriguing thought it was.
Daryl noticed a stack of thin books in Beth's hands. "What's that?"
"My dad is gonna be teachin' Maggie and me more first aid stuff today. He has this whole plan ready. How to do stitches is on the list today. I'm actually gonna be practicing on who knows what." She scrunched up her face, rubbing her hand along one of her arms. "It's kinda scary. Could you even imagine gettin' stitched up by me? I'd end up doing more harm than good."
"I think you'll to fine," he encouraged. He did believe that. Beth's hands were so small and delicate that he thought she would be an excellent candidate to do intricate incisions with a needle and thread. "He tryin' to make you into the prison doctor?"
"I hope not. Maggie would be more suited for that. She was always interested in that kind of stuff. Blood used to freak me out. Not anymore though. Not after all we've been through."
Blood had bothered him when he was little. He would see Merle come in the house with blood dripping down his face and arms after getting into a brutally physical fight with some loser over a girl. He remembered flinching away after seeing him in the small bathroom with bloody towels all around. All that blood scared him since he was not even eight years old at the time. That was all before he started hunting, before he learned how to skin and gut animals. Then blood didn't bother him at all; it was part of the job. He became accustomed to it.
"Gotten used to it?"
"I guess I have." Beth shifted from foot to foot. A look of uncertainty took over her face as her eyes drifted up to the ceiling. To him it looked like she was trying to hold back some type of emotion. "I keep wondering why all of a sudden he wants us to learn this kind of stuff when he does it just fine himself. And then I thought…maybe he's preparing for a day when he's not here no more. He wants to know that Maggie and me can handle taking care of people if they're wounded, patchin' them up and all."
Oh.
Daryl never thought about her daddy dying before. Of course the threat of death always lingered around them, but he never put much thought into her father dying. Daryl was more of a 'in the moment, let's focus on today' kind of guy. He didn't think all that much into the future, which he should probably start doing. Hershel was like the glue that kept them all together. He was a good man, one they could all use in their lives. Without him here, well, he didn't want to think about that.
He felt like he needed to say something to make her feel better about the situation.
"Not such a bad thing," he assured her. He then realized that he needed to further elaborate on what he had said. "To be teachin' you this stuff, I mean. Handing down his knowledge to his daughters. Not the other part."
Beth pushed her lips together, taking in a deep breath before expelling it. "It'll happen. I know it will. We don't gotta skirt around the issue. It's the life cycle, I guess. Just weird to think about him not bein' here."
"Then it's good you get time with him, you and Maggie both do. Enjoy it."
Daryl got up off the bed and went over to grab his crossbow. He had a feeling this conversation was coming to an end since it had taken a slightly morbid turn.
"I should go meet Maggie. My dad won't be happy if we're late." Beth lingered in the entry way of his cell once she had moved over to it. "Hey, I wanna ask you something."
"Shoot."
"You got something against sleeves that I don't know about?" Beth asked him, half-jokingly.
He took a glance down at his button up shirt that he had messily cut the sleeves off with a knife. He smirked at her question. Leave it to Beth to question him on his attire. "In this kind of weather? Who would want them? They're a pain in the neck if you ask me. Never liked them."
Beth examined her own bare arms. "I guess."
"Oh, please. We all know the real reason," Glenn interrupted, passing in front of Daryl's cell on his way to the stairs. He had this wide grin on his face as he continued to walk past them. "He just wants to show off those muscles."
Beth laughed. "They are very nice," she acknowledged, turning to him to admire his sleeveless arms. Most likely he was seeing things because he could have sworn that he saw the faintest blush on her cheeks.
He felt an awkward tension inside. Daryl couldn't help but smile nervously. Was there a cliff anywhere near that he could fling himself off of?
"Maggie's waiting for you outside, Beth."
"Tell her I'll be right out," she said to him as Glenn passed by them completely and went down the stairs.
Beth put her hands on her hips. "Before I go, do I need to tell you to be careful out there?"
"No need. Always am."
"I know you are."
Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulders and joined Beth by the opening of the cell.
Beth cocked her head to side and looked at him momentarily, making him a bit fidgety. She reached her hand up towards his face and there was no way for him to stop the flinch before it happened. People (aka his old man and his brother—even Merle's simpleminded junkie friends) normally didn't raise a hand at him unless it was followed a forceful punch, a hard slap, or some kind of unwanted attack. He couldn't help but flinch, it was a habit, one that was drilled into him from an early age. Beth noticed, but gently let her fingers brush against the pieces of his hair that were being unruly and were now covering the side of his forehead. "Your hair is gettin' so long. You've never let it get this long before."
For a second he forgot how to talk because Beth Greene had her hand pressed against the side of his face. Contact like this didn't happen to him and he didn't know what to do about it. "Guess I should trim it."
"Don't," she advised, dropping her hand back to her side. "It looks good this way."
Daryl dropped his gaze from her and chose to look at the floor instead. He shouldn't have but he smirked knowing that Beth liked his hair this way. Having his hair this length didn't bother him at all, in fact he kind of liked it. But if she hadn't said anything he probably would have ended up taking some scissors to it. "M'kay. I'll keep it."
A/N: I cannot even tell you how many times I rewrote this chapter. I had writer's block all day long (probably because I am trying to study for a test at the same time-note to self: not a good idea!). Hopefully this came out good. I'm finally happy with it (after battling with it for hours and now I still need to finish studying).
But thank you to everyone who has been so kind to review, favorite, follow etc. I'm so happy you all like the story so far.
And on my final note, anyone else doing a fourth of July weekend Walking Dead marathon (is it on anywhere else but the United States?) I'm headed north to my house in the woods to sit on the couch and watch it all day long for three days with my two best friends. Am I alone in this madness? But I'm always inspired when I go up there so hopefully I have more chapters for you all soon! Have a wonderful weekend everyone.