Sorry for the delay in updating this. I intended to keep to updating every two days or so, but a lot of stuff has come up recently. I'm dealing with a busy work schedule, and on top of that my landlord sold my building to a new company, and there was a death in my extended family. Suffice it to say my updates may be a bit slow for the next week or so, but hopefully things will calm down. Either way, writing this today at least helped me relax a bit.
This chapter ended up all in Beth's perspective, which is a change for this story! It just sort of happened, but I expect we'll be back to Daryl's perspective by the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!
There was something to be said about the way two people got used to each other when they spent everyday together, when it was only them and no one else. It showed itself in so many facets, in so many ways. Not just in things like how familiar their voice got to you, how you could sometimes almost recognize their mood from the timbre of their words, though there was that too, of course. It was also more.
It was the way sometimes they didn't need to say anything as they walked in the woods together. Like how Beth could tell when Daryl wanted them to go in a certain direction just by the tilt of his head or the slight shift of his body. It was how she wasn't just acutely aware of his presence but knew exactly where he was right now, just how far to the left and slightly behind her that he stood. It was how she knew that he was just as aware of her, because sometimes he would come up beside her or in front of her and she would see him looking at her from the corner of his eye. Same as how other times when he heard a noise up ahead or off to the side, he would know just where to reach out with his hand to stop her.
That acute awareness of Daryl had never felt as intense to Beth as it had this morning. She had fallen asleep with the taste of him on her lips and woken up to the warmth of his body beneath her own. Somehow in the middle of the night she had ended up essentially on top of him and she'd woken to find her bare legs tangled between the brackets of his, her cheek resting on his chest and one hand splayed just over his heart as the other stretched up by his head. Strong and broad and firm, he had felt better than any mattress she even vaguely remembered sleeping on, and that was due in part to the scent of him that had lingered in the air around her as she'd breathed in deeply.
At first she hadn't wanted to move. She'd just wanted to just lay there forever, feeling the warmth of him beneath her, marvelling not just at how their bodies fit together but the fact that this was Daryl she was curled up against, Daryl who was letting her lay on top of him without pushing her away. Daryl who was, she had realized after a few long and relished moments… awake.
But when she'd lifted her head he'd spoken to her in that silent form of communication they'd become so adept at. A press of his finger to her lips and a tilt of his head towards the side of the van and she'd become aware of the groaning just beyond the walls. A walker passing by, but not a herd, as Daryl had confirmed with a shake of his head. Knowing that they could handle a walker if they had to and that it would probably pass by on it's own as long as they stayed quiet, Beth had done just that. She'd settled back against him and exhaled a soft sigh.
The silence had provided another benefit. It had given her an excuse not to move, not to shift off of Daryl the way she'd known she probably should have. She might have, if she'd gotten the idea that he was uncomfortable. But laying there, she had felt the tight tension within him ease as his hand had come up to brush down her back casually but affectionately, which she had rightfully taken as silent encouragement to stay right where she was.
Not that she had needed the encouragement. Night after night she had spent recently tucked against his side sleeping with her cheek on his shoulder or chest but what she had felt this morning lying against him was so much better. It was the sort of closeness that had made her think of the kisses they'd shared, made her think of the night before and his hands slipping under her sweatshirt to run up the bare skin of her back.
Yet it was also more than that; she knew that now walking beside him in the woods as much as she had known it this morning. She'd never felt as close to anyone as she did to Daryl, not just right now or this morning or last night, but over the last few weeks, too. There was an intimacy in being with him that wasn't just physical, but emotional.
She knew that this was only possible because of how close they'd become over all this time spent with just the two of them. Because they trusted each other, perhaps more than they'd ever trusted others before. A year ago she never would have guessed that the man she'd trust over anyone else would be Daryl Dixon, let alone that she would have just this morning found herself curled up against him, the length of his body so firm and warm and enjoyable beneath her own. She also never would have expected that he would have seemed just as willing, that she would have felt his hand running up and down her back, would have looked up to see an almost content and sated look on his face, despite knowing that he was still focused on the sounds beyond the walls of the van.
Beth watched him now as he slowed to match her pace where they walked through the woods, coming to walk right beside her so his arm lightly brushed her own. It made her remember this morning and the touch of his fingers grazing her cheek and then tucking her hair behind her ear, so soft and gentle. It was a careful sort of affection that at one time she never would have thought Daryl capable of. Now she was learning that the quiet, gruff man could be far less rough sometimes then he came off as. He could be gentle, he could be incredibly caring and protective and, his own way… even sweet.
That was what had a shy smile curving across her lips as she watched him now, her cheeks flushed the faintest bit pink in memory until he raised a questioning eyebrow and made her shake her head and look up ahead of them.
Once the walker had passed the van by and they'd had a quiet breakfast, they'd gotten dressed in clothes that were at least mostly dry after spending the night hanging up. Beth had added the sweatshirt to her bag, and pulled on the spare pair of jeans that had been rolled up safe and were thus mostly dry. The other pair, soaked and torn and dirty, she finally decided to give up on and leave behind, though thankfully her boots had dried enough to wear. That, along with her tank top, was her outfit for the day. The flannel, still somewhat damp, was draped from her backpack where she hoped it would dry in the sun, at least in time for this evening when the autumn chill set in.
Not only had the rain been gone when they exited the van but the small herd of walkers was nowhere in sight either. Hopefully they'd been left behind, though as they followed slightly off to the side of the tracks, they both made sure to keep an eye behind them just in case. Even in that they fell into a rhythm; Daryl would glance back, then Beth the next time, as if they'd written down some sort of schedule. Only of course they hadn't; it was all just in their minds.
Together they both kept an eye on their surroundings, watching for walkers, for people, for signs of their people. But they also kept their eyes on each other. Beth couldn't seem to help the way her gaze continued to stray to him, whether he was in front of her or beside her or behind her. She'd rake her eyes over the trees, the ground, even the sky, and then always back to him. She'd study the expression on his face, how he managed to look both alert and relaxed at the same time. She'd watch his movements, try to tell before he spoke if he'd seen something of interest.
Sometimes her gaze strayed down the length of his muscled arms or across the breadth of his broad chest and she couldn't help but recall this morning, waking up on top of that strong chest with those firm, heavy arms around her. There were times when she looked at him that she remembered the moments spent in the Mill, their promise to make each other- them- their priority. Sometimes she remembered instead that moment in the barn, lit up with warm sunshine and feeling his lips against hers for the first time.
But other times, she remembered something else. That moment in the funeral home, right before everything went bad. That moment, looking into his eyes and seeing the weight of so much emotion in them, seeing a depth of feeling that had her breathing out a soft, hushed oh.
That was how she felt now, every time she looked at him, every time his arm grazed hers or he came up silently beside her to offer her a drink from his bottle, or a couple berries he'd found from a bush alongside the train tracks. It was how she felt every time their eyes met, every time he gave her that little tiny hint of a Daryl smile. Like there was something in her just repeated in a whisper over and over again: Oh, oh, oh, oh.
She knew if she put her mind to it and really thought about it all, about how she felt, and the things she wanted when she was close to him, and the way he looked at her… she could put it all together. The thing was, she didn't want to. She didn't want to analyze it or pick it all apart because that wasn't what this was. It wasn't what they were. It was just good, it was just natural, it was just… them. She was okay with letting it be, seeing what happened, letting things be the way they felt like they were supposed to.
She kinda had the feeling Daryl was, too. Not that he was the type to say much to begin with, whether it came to emotions, or any other sort of moment. Even ones like this. Out of the corner of her eye Beth saw him shift, saw the focus of his attention change to something off to their left in the trees. He hesitated just a moment, glancing back at her until he was sure she was behind him and then, with a nod, he led his way into the trees to whatever had caught his attention.
With him in front of her, Beth couldn't see what it was until he crouched down in front of it. It was some kind of trap, something built out of tree branches and string. "Is that a…"
"Rabbit snare," Daryl grunted, reaching out after a moment to run his fingers down over the branch. "Bit old, but not too old. Couple weeks, maybe?" He went quiet but there was something in his eyes, something speculative and unsure, but with the tiniest hint of something like…. hope?
"What is it?" She leaned in slightly, resting her hand on his shoulder until he turned his head to look up at her. His dark hair swept into his eyes and without thinking Beth reached out to nudge it away so she could look into his eyes and try to see what it was he was thinking.
"Rick." That was it, just one word, but she knew whatever it was that had gotten him to say that name, it had to be important. Had to be, for him to say the name he seemed to be so hesitant to speak these days, as if forming the vowels and consonants was a painful reminder of the man he had lost- the man they'd both lost, but especially Daryl. It took him a few moments, but after Beth gave another gentle squeeze to his shoulder, Daryl finished, "Taught him to make traps like this, back after the farm, before the prison…"
"You don't think…" Her voice, breathy with the weight of what he was suggesting, trailed off as she examined the trap with renewed interest, trying to imagine the moment it had been made. Had Rick knelt right here, tying these branches together, perhaps pulling a rabbit from within? Had he been alone, or had there been someone with him? Carl, or lord help her... Judith?
"Dunno," Daryl remarked, hesitantly, unsure. She knew just from the sound of his voice (and of course, what she knew of him) that he didn't want to sound sure right then and there. He didn't want to proclaim something that might just turn out to be false. "Lots of people know how to make a trap like this, I reckon. And Rick… he was right in the middle of it all, right down there with the Governor. Always reckoned…"
He trailed off without saying it, but Beth knew. He'd always figured Rick had died. Heck, Daryl had always figured they'd all died. She knew that, could still hear his voice ringing in her ears. Everyone we know is dead! Might as well be, 'cause you ain't never gonna see 'em again. Rick. You ain't never gonna see Maggie again.
Beth slowly lowered herself beside him, fingers curling over his shoulder as she looked into his eye. "But he did know this trap. So it might've been him. He might be alive, somewhere, he might not be alone. And even if he's not…"
Daryl grunted, and though he didn't say a word his eyes met hers and she knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing as her. That their thoughts had met, that they were travelling down the same path just like the two of them were every day in person now, side by side.
Even if he's not, we owe it to them to find out.
Ever since spotting that rabbit trap back in the woods, Daryl had been on edge. Beth could see it in the lift of his head and the way he'd tilt or incline it to study every little sound that echoed through the woods. His shoulders were up, his posture straighter and more attentive… she just wished she could tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he seemed so alert like this. She thought it wasn't a bad thing, at least not yet. He seemed focused but not worried, she could usually tell when he was worried and this wasn't it, not exactly.
It was more like he just had a feeling something was coming, or some kind of inkling that it might be. Maybe it was some kind of instinct. Beth wasn't about to question that. If she'd learned anything over the time spent with just Daryl, it was to trust him and his instincts.
Which was why when he stilled and held up his hand a couple hours later into the day, Beth stopped without hesitating. This time was different than earlier that morning with the rabbit trap in the woods. This time every inch of him was alert, head lifted, nose… sniffing?
Beth frowned, but when he glanced back towards her and tapped the side of his nose she drew in deep without hesitating. There was something thick and heavy in the air and after what her life had been the past couple years it didn't take long to place it. Death. Rotting bodies, decomposing flesh, a hint of copper blood…
Watching him with narrowed eyes, she mouthed: Walkers?
But he shook his head and cupped his ear and after a moment Beth nodded. If it was walkers they were being pretty damn quiet. No groans or moans carried on the cool breeze that had encouraged her to put her flannel back on an hour or so ago, and there were no sounds of shuffling footsteps through the dead leaves and forest detritus. So then what? Walkers tied down somehow maybe, walkers who were being abnormally silent, or maybe trapped somewhere?
Or maybe it wasn't walkers at all. Maybe it was dead bodies of the non-moving variety.
The moment the thought occurred to her Beth flashed back to that rabbit trap in the woods and her stomach lurched. Rick, Carl, Judith… She glanced to the left, seeing the railroad tracks just through trees and remembering all those weeks ago by the distant other section of these tracks, the stink of copper blood and all those bodies torn apart, people they'd known, people she'd talked to every day… and that little kid-sized shoe all covered in blood.
What if, what if, what if…
She didn't say the words out loud, didn't say anything at all, but maybe she made some low noise in the back of her throat or heck, maybe Daryl could just read her as well as she could read him now. Because there he was just a few inches in front of her, fingers slipping under her chin to tip back her head until she looked up into his eyes. Hold her gaze, he drew in a deep breath, slow and measured until she followed suit and matched his rhythm. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale…
She latched on to him as if he were her anchor in a raging storm, bringing her back down nice and steady. Her racing heart slowed slightly, her churning stomach settled, and when she exhaled one more time she gave a slow nod. Now wasn't the time to panic over what might be. They wouldn't know what it was until they went and checked it out, and she was ready. With him leading the way, Beth was ready for whatever it was that might be waiting for them.
When he was sure she was okay Daryl squeezed her shoulder and then let his hand slip free. After a second he unslung his crossbow and settled it into his hands at the ready, and with a nod Beth slipped her crowbar from the loop of her jeans with her good hand. The heft of it felt reassuring, the weight of it reminding her what damage it could do, that she could use it to protect herself… that was, if whatever was up ahead was the kind of thing she needed physical protection from, and not emotional.
Rather than approach whatever it was directly, Daryl lead them around the edges, slinking quietly through the woods and moving in a circular motion towards the scent. They moved with barely any noise, taking care with their steps and moving at a slow pace until the smell of rot became thicker and thicker in their noses.
As they neared the edge of the trees again Daryl held up his hand and Beth came to a spot just beside him, silent and still, peering over his shoulder to the scene on the tracks before them.
Perhaps it hadn't been so wrong for her to have flashed back to that other scene on the train tracks, in the days after their escape from the prison. Because here, too, was a eerily familiar scene. Bodies lay scattered across the tracks and alongside of it, the stench of their decomposition and blood filling the air. There were five- no six of them, Beth realized as she spotted one just visible in the bushes on the other side of the tracks.
None of them moved. None of them had moved in a long time, well over a week and maybe two judging by the decomposition, but Beth and Daryl didn't take any chances. It was Beth who reached down after a moment for a rock, tossing it with careful aim to make it clang on the train tracks. The sound would have been enough to draw their attention if they'd been walkers, but not a single one of the bodies moved and so after a few moments of anticipation, Daryl broke their stillness and stepped out of the edge of the woods towards the train tracks.
Closer now she could see that all six of the bodies were male. They seemed to be dressed mostly in dark clothes; through the stains of blood she saw jeans, flannel shirts, jackets and hoodies. Their bags lay beside them, one or two torn open, belongings strewn around their corpses as if maybe they'd been raided. But that wasn't the most unexpected thing, no. What had both Beth and Daryl stopping in their tracks to stare down at a pair of bodies laying over the tracks was one very particular thing.
Both had been beheaded.
"Daryl…"
But he was already crouching down by the bodies, leaning in to inspect the wound and Beth couldn't help but follow him. She dropped into a crouch next to him, trying to see what he saw. "See how smooth this is?" Daryl gestured down at the neck of the headless body, and to Beth's credit her stomach didn't even churn as she listened and watched. "No jagged marks… one smooth slice. Not like a machete, or a sword. Plus…."
He trailed off for a moment and looked up at her, and the look in his eyes wasn't guarded. She could see right into his expression, all the churning emotions she knew she was feeling too, only magnified as he said, "I've seen wounds like this before. We both have."
Beth closed her eyes, but only for one moment. Because when she did it was one particular memory that flashed into her mind and made her tremble, her Daddy's lips curving up in a slow smile and then, and then, and then…
No.
Feeling the weight of Daryl's hand on her knee she slowly opened her eyes, looked at him, and exhaled in a sigh. "Do you think it's… Michonne? Or the Governor…"
Daryl rose slowly to his feet. "Could be him. But I dunno why he'd keep her weapon. He only used it when he did to make a point, and this… these bodies like this, this kinda precision, there ain't no way it could be him. He ain't that graceful."
"So… so Michonne is- was, anyway-"
"Maybe." But the Daryl peered down at the ground, studying something that had him moving in a slow arc around to another body. This one had a thick head of once-grey hair now stained in the same blood that coated the back of the jean vest he wore over a black shirt. It didn't take much looking to figure out what the blood came from, or what it meant, even before Daryl went on, "But she weren't alone. Someone else did this. Shot right to the head. This one and that one, too."
Beth followed him, coming to a stop on the tracks and peering all around them. The sun was beginning to lower, though it hadn't yet reached the trees, and the area they were standing in was pretty well lit. Enough for her to study the ground all around them, brow furrowed as she asked, "Can you tell what happened? From the tracks they left, or…"
"Dunno. All this rain, wiped most of it away. Hard to tell." Standing up from a crouch, Daryl brushed his hands off on his knees and began to move again in a slow circle. "If I had to guess, I'd say these six were ambushed. Whoever it was- Michonne, maybe, and someone else- came at them from within the woods. One on either side, see how the three that got killed by the machete are on this side of the tracks, and the ones that got shot are over there? Except this one…" Daryl crossed over the tracks to the man who was half in and half out of a bush. "Knife to the head," he murmured after inspecting the man's head carefully.
"The person- guy, I think, but I dunno- with the gun was over here. He grabbed this guy maybe when he got close, knifed him to the head. Seeing him fall would have caught the rest of them's attention…"
Beth found herself not just nodding along but speaking, too, the words coming out of her from that place inside, that place she associated with Daryl's easy, instinctive way of seeing things. "Michonne was over here, she must have taken advantage. Come out from behind them, took those two out and went for the other while the other man..."
Daryl nodded and then nudged the body in the bush with his foot, right at his hip where an empty holster rested. "Took his gun. Shot this guy here, and this one, and then Michonne must've taken out the last one. Sliced him right across his side when he was turning, and then got him in the head."
"And the guy. The guy who was with her. You think maybe…" She closed the distance between them, slowly but surely, not daring to look away from him as she breathed out, "Maybe it was Rick?"
It didn't surprise her that Daryl shrugged, that he might still be hedging his bets. They didn't know. They couldn't know, and though she felt hope blooming inside of her, she couldn't expect him to react to it in the same way. That shrug for now, was enough for her. Because it wasn't denial. It wasn't a no, it was a maybe.
After a few moments, Daryl spoke again, "They went through their stuff, or started to. Tore open some of their bags, must've taken their weapons… but the gun shots would have attracted attention, maybe some walkers. See the bite marks, on their limbs? It was after they were dead, that's why there ain't as much blood. Bodies still warm, walkers wouldn't have cared… If there were enough of them that came, must have scared Michonne and whomever else off, before…"
His eyes narrowed and his voice trailed off and Beth turned instantly, trying to figure out what he was looking at. One of the two bodies that had been shot in the head was laying by the tracks; this one with long and lanky dark hair, a thick beard, and a blood-stained hoodie. It had been bitten viciously, one of it's limbs torn off and it's body turned half on it's side… and that must've been how Daryl saw it; saw the shape wedged underneath it, a curved shadow that stood out against the dried blood on the grass.
"Before they could check all the bodies for weapons," he finished with a low hum. Moving confidently Daryl came up to the body and reached down to roll it over with a grunt. As the corpse rolled slowly away down the slight incline, Daryl's gaze remained focused as he reached down and picked up his prize, holding it up to inspect it before his eyes shifted to Beth and something like a smile crossed his lips.
"What do you think? Know you've been getting a feel for the crossbow… but maybe you'd like to give a compound bow a try?"
"Is that what it is?" Beth took a couple steps closer, studying the weapon with interest. It was a large bow patterned in dark camo, with what looked like round, almost wheel-like bits at the top and bottom, and several arrows mounted on one side.
"Mhm." Daryl nodded, inspecting it even as he still held it out to her. "This here's a good bow. Bowtech, I reckon." He looked slowly up at her, his voice low as he added, "A good huntin' bow, too."
"How do you know it's a hunting bow?" Beth closed the last bit of distance between them, her gaze narrowing so that she almost forgot the bodies on the ground around them and focused nearly entirely on the bow in his hands and the sound of his voice.
"S'got silencers," he remarked, gesturing to spots on the bow as he went on, "See here? String silencers, and cable silencers. It's designed to be nice an' quiet. Plus, I reckon it's got a good draw, too…" He shifted after a moment, slinging his own bow over his back as he drew one of the arrows from where they were mounted, lined it up on the bow, and drew it back. "Mhm. Gotta be, what… 50 or 60lb draw, maybe."
"Is that… that's good?" Beth had no idea what he was talking about, although… there was definitely something to be said about how he was talking. Something about the gruff quality of his voice and how confident he sounded, same as he did when he was talking about hunting or tracking.
"You usually need at least a 40lb draw weight for a deer, so yeah, that's good." He lowered the bow slowly, notching the arrow back into place before looking her over with a hint of a smirk. "Mine's got somethin' like a 140lb draw, s'why you can't ever crank it on your own. Reckon once you get that arm healed, you'll be able to manage it easier than with mine, for sure. If y' want to, that is…"
"Are you kidding?" She reached for it almost eagerly but then hesitated, just as her fingers brushed his and curled around the handle of the bow. "But I don't know how to use it. I was only just gettin' good at the crossbow and this… this is entirely differently." She stroked her fingers lightly over the bow, the side of her hand grazing his as Beth looked up into his eyes and asked hesitantly, "Will you… will you teach me, Daryl?"
"Would I offer you a weapon if I weren't gonna make sure you know how to use it, girl?"
The look he gave her, eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her lips, made Beth smile up at him, made her linger there for just a moment with her fingers curled right next to his before she exhaled, "No. No, you wouldn't." Only then did she take the bow, fiddling with it until she found the strap to sling it around and settle it against her backpack. "What do you think?"
He eyed her for a long moment, eyes squinted against the sun that was coming from behind her now, bathing her in a golden glow. "Looks good," he murmured after a second or two, "Like it might suit you. Reckon it will… I guess we'll see, won't we?"
A slow smile curved up Beth's lips as a thought occurred to her. She wasn't just picturing herself using this bow, not anymore. No. She was picturing him teaching her how to use it. Remembering all those days in the woods, him so close behind her as he guided her hands, talking right into her ear in that low gruff voice and showing her how to use his crossbow. It had been so intimate and so special and so important, too. She remembered how it had made her feel all flustered and unsure yet oddly confident at the same time, and now she realized… they'd get to do that all over again.
It was a new bow, a new style… a new chance to have Daryl right up close, guiding her and teaching her the way he was so good at. "Yeah," she murmured at that realization, a husk in her voice that matched the one she'd heard in his own a moment or two before. "I guess we will see."
Their eyes met and held again, the heat stirring between them from something within and not just from the warmth of the setting sun on their backs. It lingered until Daryl's gaze broke to look behind them, back over the trees where the sun was nearing the rim of them.
With a hum, he remarked, "C'mon. Sun is goin' down, we should find someplace to stay for the night. Then tomorrow we can keep following these tracks, see if we're right about Michonne and whoever was with her…"
Right. Michonne, and maybe Rick, and maybe others. Beth knew what they'd found today was important, but she also knew that there were other things just as important, maybe even more so. Things that were marked by the ease with which she and Daryl fell in together again, side by side and moving back into the trees in search of shelter for the night. Things that showed in the way his arm brushed hers, and the way he looked down at her with a hint of a smile.
The others might be out there. Might be. And they'd keep looking, until they found out for good or for bad. But in the meantime, Daryl was right there at her side, a presence she was aware of even without looking.
The others might be an unknown, but not him. He was right there with her, and that was so very important.
Due to the nature of this story I won't ALWAYS make comments about what I changed from the main plot, because some of this is stuff that will reveal itself throughout the future story. However in some cases, the changes I made are things that will logically never get explained in the story, because it's not the sort of things the characters would observe, in which case I will make notes I like to think of as "butterfly effect" note. Case in point...
Butterfly effect: With Daryl catching up with Beth in this story, the Claimers never ran into him. As such, he and Len never clashed heads, which means that Len was never caught out and killed by the rest of the Claimers. Without this to slow them down, the group moved more quickly after Rick, Michonne, and Carl. Rather than running into them at night while they were sleeping in the car, they caught up to them sometime in the day. Rick and Carl were off in the woods when Michonne heard the Claimers chatting about what they planned to do with them. Leaving Carl safely off to the side, Michonne circled around to the other side and she and Rick ambushed the Claimers and killed them (as per Daryl's theory) before they had the chance to do the same to them. Voila!
Hope that makes sense, let me know if you have any questions! I'll answer them if I can do so without spoiling future stuff! This was just the sort of thing I felt the need to explain because no one in the story is ever gonna say "well because Daryl never met the Claimers", lol.