After ensuring the harness was secure, she tied the laces on her trainers, double-knotting the loops to keep the slightly-too-large shoes in place. These early morning jogs had been a respite for Beth; a way to burn off the excess anxiety that came with the trauma of being a survivor in all of this mess. Judith often fell back asleep after being strapped into the jogging stroller, but Beth was happy for her company, regardless at to whether or not she was a wake. It was around 7AM according to the sun's position in the sky, and Beth could see dark clouds far away on the horizon. It was likely that they would dump a load of water on Alexandria come the late afternoon. The water was much needed, and as glad as Beth was for the rain to come, she silently hoped that it would wait to arrive at a time when she could sleep through at least most of it.
Judith snoozed in the early morning light as Beth's rhythmic footfalls sounded against the pavement. It was still too early for the majority of Alexandrians to be awake yet, but she was certain that at least most of their group was was up and about by now. It had become habit for them on the road. Up at dawn, settled by dusk. It was safer to travel during the day; the visibility often being the difference between life and gruesome death. Wherever they had been, it was always the same chain of events: Whoever was on watch that day would switch off with the nightguard, whom would be given the day off of duties that were not essential for survival. At least two would stay behind to guard Judith and their remaining stores while the rest would split off in two's and three's to search for food, water, and whatever other supplies the group night need. Living on the road, Beth had slept almost everywhere by now; abandoned houses, garages, storage containers, cars, forest camps, prisons...
The image of the prison massacre was permanently burned behind her eyes. Maggie ' shriek as their father was murdered, the screaming metal bullets and concrete shrapnel of their home being destroyed, and the fleeing residents of their little community hitting the ground as Daryl dragged her by the arm into the forest.
"Beth! BETH! C'mon, you' gotta move. Let's go...COME ON!" Daryl yelled over the carnage as he dragged her away from the view of her murdered father, "We've gotta go; gotta keep movin'. Ain't nothin' we can do here now. You wanna live or not?"
It wasn't as though she wished for the same fate as her father, she didn't, but her feet were frozen to the ground in fear. She barely registered Daryl throwing her indelicately over his shoulder and sprinting towards the trees. All her mind would allow her to focus on was the retreating image of the prison and the bodies of the fallen awaiting reanimation as the hungry mouths of walkers poured as a steady stream through the gaping fences.
The prison was obscured by the misplaced cheeriness of budding young leaves as the maw of the forest engulphed them. Daryl's knees buckled under the added weight of her frame. She got back onto her own feet, grabbing Daryl by the hand as they desperately retreated deeper into the woods. Her legs burned as badly as her eyes, but she only ran faster. There was no doubt that once the swarm of walkers tired of the prison's victims, they would wander towards them. An arrow shot through the walker on her left and she dropped Daryl's hand to knife the walker approaching his side.
She didn't know how long they ran for, but it felt like hours before he collapsed at the entrance of a hunting shack. Beth dragged him inside and barricaded the door with the firewood that had been stacked in the corner of the shack. Then she lay down on the floor next to Daryl, both of them panting in exertion.
The several weeks following they had kept moving, never staying on one place more than a few days. They had been working their way towards Terminus in the hopes that if any of their group had survived, they would be moving the same way. Daryl was skeptical that anyone had survived the Governor's attack, and thought the chance of finding anyone who might have survived was so slim they might as well not bother to try. Beth had been more optimistic, and had eventually convinced Daryl to try for Terminus; a mistake she still regretted. Daryl had been the one to save Beth, and had helped her survive on the road, and in turn she had led him into a den of cannibals. She would be forever grateful to Carol for saving them, and it didn't surprise her in the slightest that Daryl had begun to see Carol as more than just a close friend after the incident. Beth didn't feel upset about his choice in partner, as a matter of fact, she couldn't have thought of anyone who was better suited for him. Daryl valued strength and self-reliance, two characteristics that Carol clearly exuded. Shortly after they had arrived in Alexandria, Daryl had ended up moving into the house she shared with Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Sasha. It was unsurprising that Merle had moved into the house where his brother resided, given that Daryl and Carol were some of the few willing to put up with him for any length of time. And having been in the military himself, Merle was unlikely to give Abraham or Rosita any trouble.
Beth finished her lap of the town and stopped just short of the house, catching her breath and leaning heavily on the bars of the stroller as Judith began to stir. The town had begun to wake. Merle was sitting on the front steps, a cigarette in hand as he smirked at her.
"Bit early ain't it Blondie? The fuck're you doin' up?"
"I could ask you the same thing?"
"Daryl 'n' I're goin' out for a hunt."
"Some light-hearted brotherly bonding?" Beth asked jokingly, "Go and kill sum stuff, then throw the baseball around?"
Merle snorted a laugh and stuck the cigarette in his mouth, taking a draw.
"This guy bothering you?" Beth turned to see Aiden jogging across the street to stop too close at her side and puffing out his chest, "You bothering her?"
Beth rolled her eyes before trying to plaster on a polite smile, "No, thanks but I'm good."
"You sure? Maybe I should walk you to the door."
"Get lost Casanova Creep Show." Merle barked at Aiden, "Why don' you go run that fat ass mouth somewhere else."
"You know, maybe you should just go back inside. Lot of people here who won't take too kindly to you harassing a young woman."
"What's goin' on out here?" Daryl asked, opening the front door to take in the four of them, "Merle, we goin' or what?"
"Come on, I'll walk you in Beth," Aiden said, but Daryl came up to wrap an arm over Beth's shoulder, "Nah, she's comin' out with us today. Maybe another time."
"Sure, another time then," Aiden said, staring irritated at Daryl before going back across the street.
"Thanks," Beth said to Daryl, who nodded in response.
Merle snorted, "You tellin' me Blondie here's goin' huntin'? What, is she gonna hold you're purse or somethin'? Make sure you don' smudge you're mascara on the scope Honey."
Beth glared at Merle as she said, "Piss off! I've got enough grief with Aiden botherin' me every other day. Don' need you ruinin' my day too."
"Aww, c'mon Honey, ole' Merle's jus' playin' wit' you."
Beth strode past the porch towards her own front door.
"Where you goin'," Merle called after her, "Not that I don't like watchin' you leave."
She pulled the stroller backwards up onto the porch and scooped Judith up into her arms. She caught Daryl saying something along the lines of, "Why you gotta go botherin' her like that?" as she closed the door to the house behind her.
No matter how many times she did it, it still felt like a miracle to her: warm showers. Not only running water, but honest to God hot water flowing onto her back from the showerhead above. Beth saturated her hair with wet heat and scrubbed at the sweat clinging to her scalp. She washed herself with the fruity-scented soap that Michonne liked, ran her razer over her legs, and rinsed quickly before stepping out from behind the curtain and into the steamy room. Beth had always loved the feeling of the smooth feeling that came with her freshly shaved skin. Jimmy had always preferred the feel of her legs like this, while Zack didn't care either way, not that Beth would have changed her habits for either of her former boyfriends. She remembered the feel of Merle's scruff against her cheeks. Neither Jimmy or Zack had been able to grow much in the ways of facial hair, and while Beth had never thought she would care much for the feel of its scratchy texture, she found that she actually kind of liked the way that Merle's stubble had scratched at her chin. It had been so long since she had kissed someone, anyone, and the feeling was electric. But then he had acted like an asshole that morning and she was irritated. She wouldn't have thought that the alcohol would make him more companionable. She recalled the first and only time she had seen Daryl drunk. Daryl had shed his more reserved exterior, showing his painful, roughened edges. But, if anything, Merle had mellowed; that galling persona he had always worn being left softer than it normal. Beth supposed she shouldn't have entertained the idea that there might have been some meaning behind their shared drunken kiss. She should have expected that Merle would go right back to being Merle without the assistance of the scotch. Beth was quite sure that the only people Merle actually liked, not simply tolerated, were Judith, Daryl, and by extension Carol. She didn't want to admit her disappointment that he acted the same way he always had towards her. Lately Beth had been frequently finding herself jealous of Maggie for having Glenn. It wasn't as though she was attracted to Glenn like that, it was simply the companionship that Maggie seemed to share with her husband. She wanted the same kind of connection with someone that Maggie had with Glenn and that Daryl had with Carol. She would have bet against Merle's assumption that Maggie would be the next member of their group to fall pregnant. Maggie had been with Lori during the delivery of Judith; she'd had to cut into her friend and pull the baby from her still warm dead body. Maggie never spoke about it, but Beth knew that it had affected her. After that day Maggie had never brought up the idea of having a child of her own again. Lori's death had put the fear of God into her.
Beth had always wanted a baby, and she still did. She knew the risks of having one in the midst of all of this madness, but even though she tried to make herself change her mind she couldn't bring herself to change the desire. She wanted to feel the little kicks coming from inside of her, and wanted to hear those first beautiful cries that came with her baby taking their first breaths. She put her hand over her womb, praying that one day in the future she might get the chance to grow a baby of her own.