I've had this in the works for a while, but life just kept happening. There was actually more to this chapter, but it's already getting pretty long (I'm really trying to keep the chapters shorter for this one), but that just means the next chapter already has a head start. Silver linings, right?
When the four had taken off, some of the women in camp decided to head down to the reservoir to wash their laundry. Beth joined them, grabbing all the clothes from the tent, regardless of to whom they belonged. Whether Daryl returned with Merle or not, the clean clothes would be a nice change from the usual alternative.
While they worked, Carol's husband, Ed, kept watch, though he seemed to be watching the women bending over and working in the water more than keeping an eye out for danger. The man gave Beth chills, so she avoided eye contact and kept to her task at hand, even when Andrea started to confront him. Beth had just turned her head in time to see Ed push Andrea back and a fight break out, leading to Ed backhanding his wife and Shane coming out of seemingly nowhere to beat his face to a bloody mess. Carol's cries for Shane to stop went unheeded for several blows before Shane hissed a final warning to a barely conscious Ed and stormed off. What little joviality the women had shared moments ago had disappeared, and they hurried to finish rinsing the laundry out and return to the camp.
That night, the group was gathered around a fire again, partly because they were waiting for the rescue party to return, partly because there just wasn't anything else to do. Beth joined them all again, too worried about Daryl to begin trying to find sleep in the tent. She wondered if the four men were spending the night in the city, if they were on their way back, if someone had gotten hurt...or worse.
She tried to focus on the conversations around her to keep from losing herself in her concern.
A shrill scream shattered the quiet that surrounded them. Those who remained around the fire turned toward the source of the sound to find Amy being attacked by a walker who had grabbed her as she exited the RV and tore a chunk out of her arm. Beth saw motion from the corner of her eye and saw walkers starting to swarm around Carol and Ed's tent; the only other person who seemed to notice was Carol, who was crying and holding tight to her daughter.
Everyone sprang into action, either running away from or toward the growing threat coming at them from all sides. Beth wanted to make a break to get to her tent, but her feet were frozen to the spot. She started to reach for the gun she'd kept in the back of her jeans, but didn't trust herself or her aim to be able to shoot the walkers with any kind of accuracy and not accidently hit one of the living. That left just her knife, which she was reluctant to use as well; using the knife meant hand to hand combat with an enemy that wouldn't stop until its brain was destroyed, which meant it had to come within arm's reach of her. With a shaking hand, she pulled the small knife from its sheath and held it in trembling fingers, praying to God she wouldn't have to use it, and wouldn't drop it if she did.
Shane and some of the other men were doing more than their share of keeping the monsters at bay, but it still wasn't enough. People all around the camp were screaming in pain and terror as one by one they fell silent, unable to cry out for one horrifying reason or another. Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once when Beth saw a walker just a little larger than herself turn to look at her...and began to approach.
Her breathing quickened and became shallow in her chest, unable to fill her lungs the way she needed it to. Her mind swam with fear as she desperately tried to remember what little Daryl had taught her. The walker drew closer, snarling and chomping as it did, and she finally twisted the handle of the knife so she would be prepared to stab her undead attacker. She readjusted her fingers around the grip and raised her arm to strike when the exact opposite of what she wanted to happen...happened.
Even amid the clamor of the fight for survival going on around her, Beth swore she could hear her knife hit the rocky ground somewhere behind her.
"No!" she screamed, tears of pure terror welling in her eyes as her hands came up to try to push the walker away. All that happened was her hands sliding on its rotting flesh, barely gaining any purchase in keeping it from biting or scratching her. Her palms were pressed against its chest as its hands came up to grip her upper arms. She began to sob, sure that death was imminent, when a bolt flew from out of nowhere and was suddenly protruding from the walker's temple, stopping its grotesque jaws from snapping mid-bite.
Beth searched frantically for Daryl, knowing he had to be close, but was still unable to move. He, along with the other three men who had gone back into the city, appeared from the tree line, firing bolts and bullets, dropping walkers in their tracks like an apocalyptic cavalry arriving just in time to save the day. Daryl rushed to her, although instead of any sign of relief that she was okay or any gesture to make sure she wasn't injured, he stooped to grab her knife, handed it to her, and shoved her to stand behind him as he continued fighting. She made sure to find a firm grip on her knife and turned back to back with Daryl, keeping an eye out for any more potential threats.
When the last walker had been dealt with, Daryl finally turned to look at Beth, pulling her closer to the fire so he could do a quick examination to ensure she was alright, at least physically. Rick and Shane decided for everyone to go to their tents to try to rest, that the survivors would clean up the carnage once it was daylight. Despite their diminished numbers, there would be extra guards keeping watch that night.
Beth followed Daryl to their tent, where he silently began removing his weapons and lay down on their shared sleeping bag. She knelt next to him, still shaken from the attack, but feeling somewhat better now that Daryl was back. When he didn't ask what had happened while he was gone, she decided to ask what had been on her mind all day. "Was...was he..." she trailed off, unable to give voice to the worst question to ask.
"He was gone," Daryl mumbled.
"What do you mean...gone?"
"Mean he ain't there no more," he spat back. "Idiot cut off his hand to save his ass. Found where he'd went an' cauterized it and everything. We got back to where we left the truck to find it gone, too. Asshole probably saw us pull up and took off when we were lookin' for him."
Beth covered her gasp with her hand. "Daryl, that's...that's awful," she sympathized. She thought of how skilled he was at tracking things and asked, "There wasn't any way to follow him?"
Daryl scoffed, "Damn near impossible to track somethin' on pavement. Plus with him driving and us on foot, he was miles away in minutes, I reckon." Daryl shook his head, "'Sides, we had other shit to deal with." He answered Beth's questioning look, "Glenn got his ass kidnapped tryin' ta get Rick's damn bag o' guns." Beth readjusted as she listened with rapt attention. "Turns out these guys actin' like a bunch-a thugs were tryin' ta keep a damn ol' folks home runnin'. Fuckin' waste-a time."
She shook her head. "Not a waste of time," she argued and waited for Daryl to respond. The most he did was look up at her from the corner of his eyes. "You went back for Glenn. You put his safety before your own. You didn't know what kind of people they were. You could have left him for dead, but you didn't."
"Yeah, well," Daryl mumbled, not finishing his thought before he turned a curious eye to her. "The hell happen here? Where'd those bastards come from?"
Beth could only shrug, "I don't know. They just...appeared." She played with a button on her borrowed shirt. They sat quietly, both coming down from their adrenaline rush. Beth was definitely still feeling shaken up from the attack. She could still see the walker's jaws snapping together, chewing the air mere inches from her face; could still hear the screams, the raspy moans, the gunshots sounding off all around her...the cries of the survivors afterward.
Beth looked over at Daryl to find him looking right back at her, almost expectantly. After a moment, he broke eye contact and began removing his weapons and laying them in their places beside the sleeping bag. Beth realized then that he'd saved her life moments ago and was now waiting for her to show some gratitude and uphold her end of their arrangement. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she began unbuttoning her shirt.
"The fuck you doin'?"
His question startled her. "I...I thought..." she stammered, her nerves and confusion preventing her from finishing her sentence. She swallowed before trying again. "You...you saved me from that...that thing. I just figured you wanted to..." she blushed, unable to force the words out of her mouth.
Daryl smirked at her. "Too damn tired, girl," he grunted as he stretched out on his back. "Good to know you're willin' to offer, though."
Beth's stomach plummeted, a hot flush of shame running through her as she realized that's exactly what she'd done. On top of that, he'd rejected her. Now she just felt stupid.
"Don't you worry, sweetheart," Daryl interrupted her self-deprecating train of thought, "I'll be takin' you up on that offer soon enough."
Beth crawled to her side of the sleeping bag to lie down, facing the tent wall as she usually did. A moment later, before she really had any chance to relax into her position, she felt Daryl curl up behind her, his arm draping around her waist, his thighs against the back of hers. She fought the urge to wriggle away as his pelvis pressed against her bottom. Another moment passed before Daryl offered his arm as a pillow for her like he had a few nights ago; another, and she felt his relaxed but steady breath ghosting around the back of her head.
The same conflicting emotions she'd felt while Daryl was gone crashed through her. She was glad he was back, safe, and felt safer with him next to her than she'd felt those past two nights. At the same time, Beth experienced a feeling of dread at the thought of having to sleep with Daryl again, especially since she was the one to bring up the subject.
And there was the tiny part of her that was almost...almost...looking forward to having Daryl take her up on her accidental offer.
She was still trying to sort through her feelings when sleep finally found her.
.oOo.
When Beth woke the next morning, Daryl had already left. She could hear several people already at work in the camp outside the tent. The smell of acrid smoke filled the air around her – the smell of burning flesh. She pulled her hair into its usual ponytail and stepped outside, blinking in the hazy early morning light, seeking Daryl out before joining in to help. There was already a growing pile of bodies in one corner of camp. Beth noticed they were all the human monsters that had attacked the night before; their victims were lined up near the back of a truck. Andrea was kneeling next to her sister's body, apparently having kept vigil all night. Those who weren't moving bodies were packing their belongings into different vehicles.
She began packing what few things they had in the tent, assuming they'd be leaving with the rest of the group. She heard Glenn yelling at someone that the bodies of their friends were to be buried, not burned. Others were arguing over where they would be going to seek out safety next.
It didn't take long for Beth to finish what she was doing, and wasn't about to attempt tearing the tent down on her own, so she ventured outside again, looking for someone who may need her help. Just as she did, Jacqui, one of the women who had also done laundry the day before, called out to anyone who would listen that one of the men, Jim, had been bit. Several others came over to inspect the wound, Daryl included. Once it had been confirmed that Jim was in fact bit, a fight broke out as to what to do with him. Daryl was apparently not willing to take any chances, and raised the pick axe he'd been using as if to strike. Rick stopped him, pointing his pistol at the back of Daryl's head and pulling back the hammer, ready to fire.
Beth couldn't stop herself from crying out, "No!"
Daryl turned around and glared first at her then at Rick before lowered his pick axe.
Eventually everything was settled, particularly what to do with Jim and where they were headed next. Jim would ride in the back of Dale's RV, with someone keeping watch over him to make sure he didn't turn as they made their way to the CDC in hopes of a cure. Beth helped load Daryl's truck where she could; she wasn't surprised to learn that Merle had left a motorcycle behind, which Daryl loaded into the bed of his truck. She crawled into the cab, a sudden tension rippling between them as Daryl shifted into gear and followed the line of cars.
Eventually he spoke, his voice laced with anger. "I told ya, ya don't gotta do that shit." She looked at him, confusion pulling her eyebrows and mouth into a frown. "Thinkin' ya gotta stick up fer me like ya did. Like I need some little thing like you comin' to my rescue in my god damn hour of need." He fixed her with a stern look, "Knock that shit off."
Beth could feel the anger boiling up inside her. "I'm sorry, are you mad because I tried to help you? The man had a gun pointed to your head. Forgive me for being concerned."
Daryl just rolled his eyes and scoffed in response. "Fine," he spat back at her, "keep jumpin' in the middle of things. Mark my words, girlie, one of these days, you're gonna get caught in the crosshairs and get yourself in a situation I can't rescue you from."
Beth slouched on the bench seat of the truck, crossing her arms across her chest, feeling every bit the petulant child she was acting like. She watched the miles go slowly by as Daryl followed the convoy through the impromptu parking lot of abandoned cars littered on the highway. Her thoughts drifted to Daryl, as they often did lately. She wasn't sure what to do about that either. Her stomach gave a strange little flip as she began to wonder if they actually cared for each other, and not just out of some sense of duty stemming from their agreement. She couldn't seem to stop worrying about him, whether he was out on a run or standing up to Rick and Shane, and he seemed to get more and more upset anytime she stepped in on his behalf. Something told her it wasn't just some stupid male ego thing, either, regardless of how he made it sound.
Daryl's voice, which had at least faded from anger into more annoyance, cut her thoughts short. "The hell's goin' on?"
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