A/N: I am so sorry about the delay...work has been intense lately! This chapter is a little slow I admit, but the run begins in the next chapter so hopefully it makes up for it!


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Daryl opens the door and steps outside and very nearly turns around and walks right back inside when he sees her sitting down on the ground but he knows she heard him - even if she hasn't turned to acknowledge him - and leaving now would just make him look stupid, or weird. So he lets the door swing shut behind him and he quietly begins to make his way over to the clean looking blonde twirling that small pocket knife in her hand again - something he noticed she did a lot in the short time he has known her.

Maggie had dragged Beth away sometime after lunch, yelling something about showering toward Hershel and Glenn and as Daryl looks down at the girl sitting cross legged against the wooden barrier of the small bridge connecting the cell blocks, he is almost shocked by how different she looks now. He had caught a glimpse of her in the cafeteria - not enough to see what he sees now - talking to one of the prisoners and he wasn't sure what she had said but Axel certainly looked terrified once she walked away, not even glancing back at Maggie who was calling her name and seeing her now, he swears this can't be the same girl he found in the woods earlier. Her skin is no longer covered in grime and dirt, now showing smooth, pale skin that Daryl was pretty sure seemed unnatural on someone who seemed to have been living outdoors for months.

Her long blonde hair was much lighter than he had originally thought now that it wasn't splattered in mud and she had it pulled back in a much cleaner pony tail than it was before, a small braid tucked in on the side. For the first time since meeting her, Daryl could actually see the youth in the girl, her body and face no longer guarded and tense as he continued to make his way over to her, her knife still twirling in one hand and he noticed now she was clutching something else in the other.

She still hadn't turned toward him and Daryl was beginning to wonder if maybe she hadn't heard him come out after all. She was still just staring blankly ahead, her fingers fiddling with the knife, the only movement he could see. She seemed almost in a trance and when Daryl stopped right next to her, towering over her, he felt a hint of concern run through him and he started reaching his hand out, planning on just poking her shoulder - and most likely taking a huge step back in case she suddenly decides she wants to push a knife against his throat again.

It happens so suddenly - and so unexpectedly - Daryl nearly jumps when her hand is suddenly wrapped around his wrist. He even stumbles slightly, leaning down towards her, as she gives him a hard yank and he half expects that damn knife of hers to be on his throat like he thought but she finally turns her head toward him, their faces close together because of how she pulled him, and he sees her lips rise in a slow smirk.

Daryl just stares at her, feeling her breath hitting his face and she finally drops her hand away and when she arches an eyebrow at him he straightens back up, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ya got good reflexes," he admits gruffly.

"Kinda important these days, huh?" she asks with a playful smile and Daryl just grunts, leaning back against the wooden board against the fence.

She picks up her knife again - having let it fall to her lap when she grabbed him - and began twirling it around again and he can't help but wonder if there was a story behind it. Then, he feels like an idiot for thinking so much into some nervous habit the woman seemed to have. She turns her head back out toward the field in front of them, her eyes narrowing as she watches the few walkers moaning and banging against the outer fences. He finally catches sight of the other object she was holding, her fingers tapping against the plastic covered cardboard and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Ya smoke?" he asks in near disbelief, eyeing the pack of cigarettes in her hand.

For a moment she seems confused by his question before she suddenly looks down, as if forgetting that she had the small box in her hands.

"Oh, ah, no, I just," she hesitates, swallowing loudly before clearing her throat. "Never mind, it's dumb." she continues then, shaking her head and he almost questions her but she speaks again before he gets the chance. "Do you?"

He gives a rough shrug. "When I can find 'em. Ain't exactly easy to come by these days."

She laughs quietly before she holds her hand up, offering him the pack. "Here. I've got more in my bag too. I guess I don't have much use for them anymore anyways."

"What do ya got 'em for anyhow?" he questions, reaching out to take them from her.

He sees the moment she tenses up, her eyes seeming to drift away for a brief moment before she takes in a sharp breath, letting her now empty hand fall limp at her side and she shrugs, biting her lip.

"There was a man I met, towards the beginnin' and we stuck together for a little while. He loved his smokes. Always seemed to find some where ever we went, I swear he had like a radar for it or something," she shakes her head, smiling slightly. "I guess he just knew all the right places to look. He had given me some to keep safe and I even began to look for 'em myself. Old habits die hard I guess, I still find myself lookin' for them now."

"What happened to him?" Daryl asks stupidly, ripping off the plastic covering and trying to ignore the small shock he had gotten over the fact that she had actually shared something about her past with him. He looks down at her to see her frowning, her eyes holding a small glimmer of that pain he had noticed before and he curses inwardly. "Sorry." he mumbles, digging in his pocket for his lighter.

She shrugs again, her face softening. "It's okay," she says quietly and then she smiles sadly. "I owe him a lot; he's the main reason I think I survived this long on my own, taught me a lot."

"Was wonderin' about that," Daryl admits with a small nod, finally pulling his lighter out.

She chews on her lip. "He didn't teach me everything though. Had to learn some stuff on my own." she says then and he pulls his attention away from lighting the cigarette as he hears the tone of her voice and he inhales deeply when he notices the haunted look in her eyes.

He thought back to that moment in the cafeteria a little while ago. T-dog had gone and dropped something, causing a noise that even had him instinctively reaching for his knife. He had recovered quickly though but Beth, she had completely checked out, her eyes clouding over and he wasn't even sure why he had looked over at her in the first place, nor was he sure why the hell he suddenly began walking toward her either.

When she had checked back in, returning for what he could only assume was a memory of some kind - and not a good one, at that - he immediately saw her reaching for her knife, obviously not remembering where she now was and he had somehow managed to calm her down, something that even surprised him.

He wasn't sure why but something about this damn woman was messing with his head, causing him to do things he wouldn't normally do, that much he had figured out by the looks Carol had given him - both when he had first brought Beth in and then again in the cafeteria, after releasing her wrist once he was sure she wasn't gonna knife anyone. He ignored her though, brushing her off both times. He didn't even know what was happening, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to explain it Carol.

The two of them were quiet after that, Daryl not knowing what to say and Beth clearly not wanting to explain. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, twirling that damn knife again and there was a small part of him that just wanted to reach out and make her stop. He shook his head at that thought.

He was surprised when he heard a small laugh bubble out of the woman sitting down on the ground beside him and he glanced down, furrowing his brow as he tossed his cigarette away. He squinted down at her, wondering if maybe she had finally lost her mind or something.

"Ya know," she spoke, her laughter cutting off and her face forming an expression that he wasn't sure was a grimace, a frown, a confused smile, or maybe, a mix of all three. "I'd never planned on telling anyone about that, about anything really. I don't really like to think about it let alone talk about it but here I am, telling you of all people, I mean, don't take that the wrong way or nothin', it's just, you didn't really strike me as someone who likes to partake in conversations," she laughed again but now it just sounded more like an exhausted delirium was settling in.

"I ain't," he admitted gruffly, feeling his own face crumble in confusion as he realized that he had just spent the last few minutes talking to the woman and not only that but he was generally interested in what she had to say, in piecing together the puzzle that Beth Greene had suddenly become to him.

"Can I tell ya somethin'?" she says after a moment of silence and he just glances down at her, raising an eyebrow and she smiles briefly before she looks away from him and she finally stops twirling her knife, clutching it in her hand.

"I met someone once, told him why I was alone, that I was searching for my family. He said I was stupid, said I was better off alone than searching for people who left me behind, probably had already given up on me. I told him he was wrong, that I would find them, that things would be good. That they would be so happy to see me. I thought he was wrong. But my family, Daddy and Maggie, they," she pauses to take a deep breath. "When they look at me, it's like they just see some dead girl or something." her voice softened out, turning into just a whisper before she suddenly stands up, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I know ya probably don't wanna hear my sob story I mean, I should be happy right, I finally found them, ya know?"

He just shrugs and he wasn't planning on saying anything - mostly because he had no idea what the hell to say to that - but even if he wanted to she spoke again before he got the chance.

"I mean I get it I guess, I'm different than how I was but they could at least not look at me like I'm some girl who needs to be saved from herself. I mean I was cleanin' my weapons earlier and I swear my Daddy looked at me like he didn't even know me." she spoke, her voice dropping off in a whisper again and she once again started twirling that knife in her hands.

"He don't," Daryl says and she pauses in her pacing of the gate, turning to look up at him with surprise. "He don't know ya anymore, Maggie neither, like ya said, you're different than how ya were the last time they saw ya."

"So what?" she questions then, raising an accusing eyebrow, her voice rising. "So I'm just supposed to pretend that it's all okay that they buried me...that they can barely look at me anymore because I'm not that weak little girl I was before? I'm supposed to feel guilty that I survived and had to change because of it?"

"Nah, that ain't what I'm sayin' at all," Daryl says, glancing at the door, expecting someone to come rushing out because of her yelling. "It ain't right, what they did, givin' up on ya. Yer their blood, ya just don't give up on family."

He had to pause then and light another cigarette because didn't that just make him the biggest hypocrite on this side of Georgia, telling this woman that it was wrong that her family gave up her when he just did the same thing to Merle?

Beth was quiet now, staring out at the fence, watching the walkers milling around the fence and he had to shake his head. No, this was different. Daryl knew Merle could take care of himself - no one can kill Merle but Merle - but this woman, this girl - because that's exactly what she was when she got separated from the other Greene's - she didn't know the first thing about being on her own.

"Thank you," she speaks up suddenly, glancing back at him with a small smile and Daryl shifts on his feet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"'S'nothin'," he mumbles but she is already shaking her head.

"It is though, you're the only one here who isn't treating me like I'm about to break. Or at least looks like they trust me." she shrugs and turns back around.

"Well, no one else has seen the way ya take down walkers, ya saved my ass girl, and that ain't something I'd like to admit," he says and she turns around at the sound of his voice, her lips curving in a smirk at his teasing tone before she turns thoughtful.

"So is that what ya call 'em then? Walkers?" she asks, as if tasting the word on her lips.

Daryl nods. "For the most part. Why? Whaddya call 'em?" he asks curiously.

She shrugs again. "I've heard lots of things; biters, roamers, bastards, geeks. I mostly just call 'em what they are though. Dead."

Daryl hums at her words, nodding his head. She lets out a long sigh then and turns toward him again, biting her lip.

"I guess I should get inside, I'm surprised Maggie hasn't sent out the cavalry yet," she says and then rolls her eyes and Daryl smirks.

He watches her as she walks toward the door and he isn't sure why he finds himself speaking.

"Hey," he calls after her and she turns around, her hand on the doorknob and looking at him expectantly. "I meant what I said in there, 'bout ya havin' my back."

She grins then and Daryl ignores the way the sight of it makes a warm feeling spread throughout him - that was the last thing he needed to start thinking about - and she nods her head before she pulls the door open and steps inside, letting the door close behind her.

Daryl stays out there a little while longer, finishing his cigarette as he watches the sun lower in the sky and he almost laughs because this was not how he was expecting his day to go when he left early this morning...but at the same time, when he tosses his finished cigarette away and heads back inside the prison, he can't help but smile slightly, shaking his head as he does.

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He isn't surprised when he hears Hershel clicking his way towards him later that night and he looks up from cleaning his crossbow to see the man setting his crutches against the table before taking a seat across from him.

"I wanted to thank you properly," he starts, folding his hands on the table.

"Don't gotta thank me," Daryl interrupts, focusing his attention back to cleaning his crossbow.

"You saved my little girl, son. I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough." Hershel argues and Daryl sighs.

"Look, let's get one thing straight old man," Daryl says and Hershel just smirks at the moniker. "I mighta brought Beth here but yer little girl saved her self. Hell, she saved me more'n anything. Ya wouldn't be sittin' here tryin' thank me for nothin' if she hadn't'a shown up when she did."

Hershel looks like he wants to say something else but Daryl holds up his hand and stands up, swinging his crossbow onto his back.

"I'm serious, that little girl ya'll keep talkin' about ain't a little girl no more. She's a survivor, a damn fighter, and maybe once ya'll realize that and stop lookin' at her like she's just some dead girl walking around, you'll see it. Already gotta enough real dead people walking around." he mutters out harshly and he turns to leave, stomping out of the cafeteria leaving a shocked looking Hershel behind.

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Okay, so like I said, work has been intense lately (this is my first day off in fourteen days) so with that being said and also because a few people have asked, I don't have a set updating schedule, it usually just happens when I get the chance but I do try to update at least once a week. This story is my priority though and it has gotten a much bigger response than I originally thought it would so thank you for that and also, thank you for all the lovely comments and reviews (I try to respond as much as I can, and I'm sorry if I don't) so please keep them coming because they also help motivate me to update faster!

:)