A virus broke out. A virus that was up to no good.
As if they didn't have enough to worry about.
"I don't think it's life-threatening but these people need to stay in bed and away from others who are not infected by it." He heard Hershel's voice but wasn't looking at him as he talked to Rick as all the council members were all huddled around a table in the library. All he could think about was how Beth was one of those people, one of those who had been infected by the virus. "Now, I would suggest that everyone who is sick move into one cell block so that we can try and contain this as much as possible."
Hershel tried to be reasonable, keeping everyone as safe as possible. Still, Daryl felt the slight tinge of annoyance by the thought of having to lock Beth away in some cell block, even if it was for her own good and for the safety of others.
Trapping all these sick people together in isolation sounded horrible to him.
He was willing to do anything. He offered to go out on runs in search of medicine for them. Unfortunately, Hershel said that wouldn't do any good. He didn't know exactly what the virus was so there was no way for him to know what kind of medicine would work properly to counteract the virus that ripped through the prison, waiting to take its next victim. Hershel had rambled on about making some kind of herbal nonsense that would supposedly help after he suggested the containment of the sick people.
Herbs? Bullshit, he thought. But he's not going to stop him from trying. If there was a chance it would help then it was worth a shot.
The days kept going by, painfully slow if he might add. It wasn't the same as when Beth was around. She made the air light around him when she was near. The slightest interaction between them was enough to make his day.
So every time that he grabbed dinner or passed by the laundry room or looked out by the fences and Beth wasn't there like she usually is, it put him in this low mood that he couldn't extract himself out of. He had gotten so used to her being around that when she wasn't, he felt…off. Different. Strangely unusual.
Misplaced was a better word for it.
It was as if something was missing when he didn't get to see her. Even if it was just a glimpse from across the courtyard, that was plenty. Now he didn't have anything.
So the days go on and Daryl went to sleep every night wondering when these people, their own people, were going to get better, were going to pull through. His main concern is Beth but he's also worried about the others in the cell block that all the sick were moved into. As the days had passed, more and more were moved into there because they started coughing or throwing up. One morning Glenn freaked out because Maggie was throwing up but she had assured him that it was only morning sickness.
He saw, though, that Maggie would not have minded being in the cell block with her sister. She walked around with a look on her face that expressed her concern for Beth. That didn't sit too well with him. Maggie's emotions were clearly portrayed on her face for anyone to see. What bothered Daryl even more was that he didn't know much about what was going on in that cell block because Rick kept him busy at the fences since they were down a number of people.
Daryl had grown tired of not being in the loop. It had been almost a week since Beth was put into the cell block—while he set up traps in the woods and he remained pissed off about that—and all he had heard was bits and pieces of what was going on behind the cell block doors. There wasn't a lot of time to chat when a steady stream of walkers built up along the fences. So when he saw Hershel coming down the path towards the fences on his crutches, he perked up his ears to overhear what he was going to tell Maggie, who was several feet from the left of him.
"She's doin' just fine, Maggie. Being stressed all the time about it is not good for my grandchild."
Daryl glanced up after he impalined one of the few walkers that remained by the fences on his side. Maggie put her hand onto her stomach and clutched the material of her shirt. "I can't help it. I wish that I could do somethin', anythin'. All this waiting around and I feel like no one is getting better, and Beth—"
"There is nothing that you can do about it, sweetheart," Hershel cut her off by saying. "I can promise you, Maggie, that the both of you will be just fine. My girls are tough. Beth will pull through soon. The body needs time to heal itself. She's in a recovering stage, that's what I know. She didn't get the worst of it. Our Beth is fighting it off the best she can."
Daryl watched as Maggie absently nodded, trying to digest the new information.
"Now, I'm going out to try and find some of those herbs I was talking about earlier. I need to help these people. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about this, you hear? No arguing with me about this."
Maggie shook her head, kissing her father on the cheek. "I won't. Be safe."
As Hershel left, Daryl replayed his words in his head. Beth was recovering. That was a good sign. He told himself that over and over again throughout the morning and the afternoon. He finally came to the obvious conclusion that he needed to see it for himself. He needed to see how Beth was doing, needed to see her in general before he went batshit crazy.
He had been warned not to go in the isolation cell block, they all had been warned. Hershel would be the one to watch over those who were in there and relay their condition to the others. They were told that stepping into the cell block was a bad idea, that it ran too high of a risk of being exposed to the virus.
Whatever. He'd risk it.
He'd risk it for Beth, the girl who made him feel things that he had never felt before and had never imagined feeling for anyone.
She had a hold on him.
He hadn't seen Beth in a week. Hadn't seen her, hadn't heard her. And Daryl was not taking her absence pleasantly. Not at all. It was like going though a form of withdrawal.
So, yes, he walked straight into the cell block full of sick people that could get him infected all because he missed Beth. Missed her more than anything.
Foolish? Maybe. But not enough to keep him away.
It was quite evident that there was a sickness going around once he entered through the doors and passed down the hall. There was a staleness to the air but also a sense that some serious disinfecting had gone down in there, the sharp smell of bleach was overpowering at times. It reminded him of a hospital, how the air was clean but everyone knew that there was sickness and death floating around. It gave him the chills. The only time he was ever in a hospital was when he had to take Merle to the E.R. because he broke his hand in a fight with some drunk junkie at a bar.
One of the first things that he noticed was that white sheets were hung up on every single cell, making it impossible to see through unless the sheet was pulled aside. He guessed they were hung there to help keep things contained and to keep the coughing sounds from traveling far. Whatever this virus was, it made people extremely prone to sleeping most of the day when they weren't trying to cough up a lung. Hershel had said that was a good thing, that the body heals when asleep.
Daryl noticed that it was eerily quiet in there as he walked down the cell block, the noise of his boots sounding louder than they should be. He knew exactly which cell he was looking for due to an awkward conversation with Glenn that consisted of a lot of "why do you want to know?" and "you're not thinking about going in there, are you?"
He had the journal that he had picked up for Beth in his hands—his flimsy defense for going to see her. He didn't think for a second that Glenn believed him, but he didn't care. Glenn wasn't going to be one to ask too many questions regarding his whereabouts and then relay them to the group. Glenn respected Daryl's privacy, for the most part.
When he got to the second to last cell, Daryl pulled the sheet across. He should have warned Beth in some way that he was coming in and swore at himself for being so careless. For all he knew, she could have been changing her clothes or something like that. After all, he didn't want to invade her privacy.
But the good thing was that Beth was in her bed with a book in her hands and the covers pulled up and bunched around her chest. He wasn't sure if he had expected her to be awake or not, and if she hadn't been then he would have left her the new journal that he kept out of sight from her. However, she was awake, to his delight.
He felt whole again, simply from the sight of her.
The cell she was in was a plain, regular one like his own, with few personal items in it. This cell was very different from hers and he wondered how comfortable she felt in here, away from her familiar creative surroundings.
It took Beth a moment to realize that he was there, so entrenched into the book that she was reading that she hadn't seen him enter. When she did, her face had remained blank for a second before it turned into a wide grin.
"You shouldn't be here," Beth said in a quiet voice, looking up from the book she was reading. "I could get you sick."
Daryl let out a content sigh as he crossed the room to lean against the empty wall that was across from her bed. Yes, this had been worth it. Just hearing her voice relaxed him. "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
Beth gave him another grateful smile. "How's Judith?" she asked in a voice that turned lightly raspy.
"She's fine. She's with Carol."
Beth looked relieved. "Good."
"Your dad is out tryin' to find some sort of herbs. Went out into the woods with Sasha and Tyreese to get it. It's crazy if you ask me," he stated.
Beth propped herself up on her elbow, setting her book down onto the bed next to her after folding the page at the top to keep her spot. "Oh no. Don't tell me. Does he want to make a tea out of it?"
"You guessed right."
Beth smiled and then coughed a number of times, putting her hand on her chest. Daryl's teeth clenched together at the sound of it. He wanted to make it better, even if he didn't know how. "He would always do to that when Maggie, Shawn, or me would get sick. It tastes so gross but it actually helps. I swear. If it didn't there would be no way I would drink that stuff."
"Drink that tea like it's a Slurpee then, huh?"
Beth giggled. "Ouch, ouch! Don't make me laugh! It hurts," she sighed. "Everything hurts."
"Do you need anything?"
"Yes. Come here." Beth patted the spot next to her on the bed as she scooted closer to the wall to make room for him (not that she needed to because she was so small to Daryl). She turned onto her side and pulled a second pillow up to the top of the bed for him. "Entertain me, please. I've barely spoken to anyone in the past five days since Lizzie got moved to the end of the hall."
Well, it's not like he could really refuse the request.
That triggered Daryl to remember that he had the journal pressed against his back from his hands being twisted around. Why he had tried to hide it in the first place, he wasn't entirely sure.
He followed her suggestion and he crossed the room to lay down on top of the covers next to her, holding up the journal once he was laying down. "Got you this."
Beth's face lit up in the same way it did the first time he gave her a journal. Beth admired the deep red journal that had two straps that tied in the front and a pen attached to the side. "So pretty. Thank you."
"What do you write about in 'em?"
He shouldn't have asked the question because it seemed like a form of an invasion of privacy. He is genuinely curious, though. He would watch her sometimes when she was so focused on writing. Her pen would glide across the paper like she couldn't get the words written down fast enough, but no matter what, she wrote in a graceful manner.
"A lot of things," Beth told him, pulling the covers up over her shoulder. "How the day went or what is going on around here. I write poetry and songs when I get the chance." Beth let her hands peek out from under the covers and she started to pick at her nails. "You, sometimes."
Daryl is a bit surprised. "Me?"
"Yes, you."
He could only wonder what she could possibly write about him. "Really? What do you say? Daryl Dixon is an asshole who drives me crazy and I hope a walker eats him?"
Beth laughed again, not coughing this time. She put a hand onto his arm and gave him a light nudge. "I would never say that!"
"Okay, just checkin'," he responded.
Daryl took the brief silence that followed to inspect Beth. It was clear that she was not feeling well. She had darker circles under her eyes, not prominent ones but they were there. Her eyes were slightly puffy and her face was paler than usual. He didn't think it was possible to get paler then Beth already was, but he had been wrong since most all of the color was gone from her skin tone.
There she was, tucked up in bed with an unknown virus and she still looked stunning, in his opinion. Anyone who argued that was a fool.
Beth's voice interrupted his thought pattern. "Why are you here?"
"Figured you needed somethin' to keep you busy," he said, picking up the journal that was between the two of them on the bed before placing it back down. "Been stuck in here so long. Thought you might be goin' crazy by now with nothin' to do."
But, really, he was the one who had been going crazy.
Beth blinked at him a number of times, examining him. She was not convinced by his answer. "Giving me the journal could have waited until I wasn't contagious and in a cell block full of people who could pass a virus onto you. Awfully risky if you ask me."
Daryl let out a long sigh. Like most of the time, he didn't know how to answer her inquiry that easily poked holes through his excuses.
"You missed me, didn't you?"
It sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Maybe."
"Enough to jeopardize your health?"
"Yes."
"So you really did miss me."
He didn't reply but she already knew the answer. Probably knew it from the second he walked into the cell.
Beth nestled in closer to him. "Good. I missed you, too. And if you're not worried about gettin' sick, would you mind staying? I'll even share some of the songs I wrote in my other journal. No one gets to read them. And I mean no one. You'll be the first, but only if you stay."
Like he would ever say no.
"Yeah. I'll stay."
—
Somehow he managed to fall asleep because the next time he woke up it was dark outside. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the absence of light in the room.
Beth was there. The realization hit that he had slept with her. Well, not slept with her. Had fallen asleep with her next to him.
Her arm was now draped haphazardly over his chest. She must have kicked off the blankets sometime while he was asleep, nothing in between them now. Daryl had remained flat on his back but Beth was resting on her side, her leg hitched over his so that her ankle was in between his own two legs. Her body was thoroughly pressed into his side. There was only the thin material of her camisole that kept the skin of his arm from touching her stomach.
With the turn of his head, he smelled the scent of her skin. Even when she was sick as a dog, Beth managed to smell heavenly, the faint aroma of vanilla lingering on her from that shampoo and soap that she used.
Daryl's eyes glazed over Beth. The familiar stirring in his pants told him that it was time to get the fuck out of there and to stop shamelessly looking at her exposed cleavage as she slept next to him. The last thing he wanted was for Beth to wake up to see he was hard. There would be no explaining that, no way around it.
He didn't want to go, didn't want to leave her. He was trapped in the middle. Daryl wanted to spend the rest of the night here until morning came around. However, he didn't think that Hershel would appreciate it very much if he walked in to check on Beth only to find Daryl in her bed. That would not go down so well. So he stole a few more short seconds of watching her peacefully dream away, her breathing slow and her body not moving other than her chest rising and falling.
He tore himself away gently, picking up her arm that was draped over him and setting it back down onto the bed, his hand lingering on hers longer than it should have. He pulled the sheets back up over her shoulders and watched as she shifted, adjusting to him no longer being there.
Daryl went back down the hall and out of the cell block. He thought to himself on the way to a much needed cold shower of how if he got infected that it would have been worth it. Having time with Beth would be worth the potential virus that might be crawling its way through his immune system.
"Where have you been?" Daryl glanced up at the sudden voice to see that it was Glenn, who was walking towards him down the hallway, rubbing his eyes and looking disheveled. He must have recently woken up, much like himself.
"Nowhere," he quickly responded, feeling like he was caught. "Why you up?"
"Maggie needed some water so I offered to go get her some instead of having her stumble around trying to get it," he explained. Glenn suspiciously examined Daryl, a grin forming on his face. "You were coming from the isolation cell block, weren't you?"
Daryl stared at him, not blinking. He hoped that Glenn got the message that where he had been was indeed his own business and he would like it very much if he didn't tell anyone about this.
"Dude, it's cool. I'm not one to judge. Even if I was, I'm too tired right now to care about anything other than getting Maggie water."
Glenn walked around him and continued down the hall to the cafeteria where they kept extra water. Glenn mumbled something, something he didn't catch all the way, but it sounded a lot like, "Those Greene women make a guy do crazy things."