A/N: Someone this one turned out longer than the last, oops. I hope you enjoy it, though. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments on my last chapter, you have no idea how much I appreciated it.
The drive from Haven to the town they'd chosen for today's trip was a short one, a straight shot about fifteen minutes down a small, paved road that led directly from their lake to the small town. As the road curved and arched, they passed dilapidated houses, empty fenced-in yards that had once held livestock, and several abandoned farms; their vast fields overgrown with weeds and untended crops and grass that hadn't been cut in years. It was an oddly beautiful view, though in Daryl's biased opinion, not nearly as beautiful as the woman who sat beside him in the truck they drove at the front of the small convoy.
He would have loved to bring the bike, but it wasn't exactly the best vehicle for carrying large loads; even if there was nothing like the feeling of driving down the road, the engine rumbling between his knees, Beth pressed against his back with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
No, there were few feelings like that. Then again, Daryl wasn't exactly going to complain about getting to sit in the bed of the truck with Beth at his side again, just the two of them. How many memories did he have of them sitting in this truck or another; a breeze ruffling Beth's hair from the slightly-cracked window, her hand resting lightly on his thigh, her voice softly singing to him like an angelic radio or chatting away about whatever was on her mind.
Though come to think of it, she wasn't chatting away or singing right now. She'd been remarkably quiet all day, and he had a suspicion he knew precisely why. They had spent a good few hours discussing the new 'situation' last night, but he knew that wouldn't have been nearly enough to reassure Beth. Not wanting her to spend the entire trip ruminating on certain thoughts, Daryl reached down, his hand covering hers to give it a light squeeze. "Thinkin' 'bout your sister, still?"
Beth's sigh was so heavy, he knew it had been dredged up from deep within her. "Yes," she whispered. "Of course I am." Her free hand fidgeted with the bracelets on her wrist, plucking and picking at them nervously before she turned to glance up at him. Her eyes were darker than usual; not the dim look they got when she was having a flashback or a PTSD attack, but heavy with worry and concern instead. He hated seeing her like this; wished he could fix every single problem she had. Unfortunately, life hadn't been that easy before the end of the world, and it certainly wasn't now.
"I promised her it would be fine, that she would come through it alright. And I told her I wouldn't tell anyone—except you of course." There was a hint of a smile on her lips at that, and he remembered the way she'd come rushing into their home last night, overwhelmed and out of sorts, but joking about how at least Maggie had told her she could tell Daryl, or she might have burst trying to keep it all in. "But I can't stop thinking about it, Daryl. I told her it would be fine, but I can't stop thinking about…" She drew in a ragged breath and admitted in a near-whisper, "I can't stop thinking about Lori."
Beth's eyes pressed shut at the words. Though he forced himself to keep his own eyes open and on the road, it didn't stop the memories of that day at the prison from flickering through Daryl's mind. The way Rick had turned when the sound of the baby's soft cries echoed across the courtyard to him. The look on his face as he'd turned to see Maggie carrying the baby and Carl, silent and broken beside her. The way he'd practically folded in on himself in front of them, sobbing no, no, no before he collapsed to the ground; all while the others could only watch.
If the memories were still stark for him, they must have been so much worse for Maggie. Poor Maggie, alone with just Carl and Lori, forced to cut Lori open to get the baby out, knowing it would kill her. To watch as Lori bled to death on the prison floor. To walk out and here that single shot and realize that Carl, poor Carl, had been forced to shoot his own mother to stop her from turning. Rick had been a ghost after, and he and Carl were both haunted to this day. But for Maggie to have been there, to have done it and seen it, to have heard the shot as she clutched the baby in her arms, and to know now that she was pregnant, that that could be what happened to her… well, it was no wonder she was terrified.
It was no wonder Beth was terrified for her.
His hand squeezed hers again. "We ain't at the prison no more, Beth. It won't be like that for Maggie." He was desperate suddenly to convince her of that, even knowing deep down that it might not be enough. "We have Haven, we have homes, an' clean sheets an'… an' books an' supplies…"
"But it's not enough." Beth whispered, eyes still pressed shut. "Daryl, I don't know how to deliver a baby. I've— I've helped Daddy deliver calves but it isn't the same, it's not. I don't know what to do, I don't have all the things we need, I don't even know all the things we need, I- I can't—" He saw a glint beneath her lashes and knew she was trying to hold back tears; heard the panic in her voice and knew she was on the brink of a breakdown. It was all he could do not to immediately pull the truck over and pull her into his arms. But the others were right behind them, piled into the van and another car, and it was impossible to pull over without having to answer their questions about why.
So the best he could do was lift his hand from hers and wrap it around her shoulder, pulling her close, tucking her slender body against his side where she slotted perfectly in. "Then we'll get more." His voice was firm, no hint of hesitancy, determined to give her the reassurance she needed, to be her bulwark against the tide of panic. "We'll find books about pregnancy, 'bout labor. We'll figure out what supplies we need an' we'll get 'em. We'll get everythin' we need, Beth. Hell, I'll ransack a damn hospital full of walkers for supplies if you need me too, alright? Ain't nothin' gonna happen to Maggie. We can do this, Beth. Y'hear me?"
She swallowed hard and drew in a ragged breath but finally her eyes opened again, and though they still shimmered with a veil of unshed tears, there was a hint of hope in that sea of cornflower blue again and that was all he could ask for. She had taught him the meaning of hope, after all, had shown him it was real. He would strive every damn day to give that back to her whenever she needed it, even if it was only a sliver of what she'd done for him. Even if he didn't think he was nearly as good at it as she was.
Regardless, it seemed like it might have worked at least a little, judging by the tremulous smile she gave him as she looked up at him and asked, "Promise?"
"Promise." He took his eyes from the road just long enough to lean in and press a kiss to her sunshine hair and then her forehead, lips relishing the warmth and softness of her skin. She smelled faintly of lavender from the dried herbs she used to scent her washing water. The scent lingered in his nose as he drew back and forced himself to focus on the road and not the beautiful woman tucked against his side. "We'll start t'day, alright? I reckon even this tiny town has t' have books somewhere in it. Or even medical supplies."
"Thanks, Daryl." Beth was quiet for a moment, just leaning into his side. He could feel her body taking deep, slow breathes, and he let his fingers trace relaxing circles on her shoulder to help calm her down further. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Anytime, Greene. Y' know I've always got your back. You and me against the world, right?"
"Dixon and Greene," she whispered back, a hint of a smile on her lips that was just for him. He just wanted to keep that smile on her lips and that worry at bay as long as possible.
As they drove past the sign for the town's church, Daryl slowed the truck to under 10mph, coasting slowly into the town with the others matching pace behind him. The cars might draw attention regardless, but the less noise they could make, the better. Houses lined either side of the road after the church, closer together now that they were nearing the town. All of them small structures with sinking porches that had probably been dilapidated prior to the apocalypse. To his left, two chairs rocked back and forth in the light breeze, empty of the owners that used to sit on them to watch their neighbors drive by. The porch on the right was covered in rusted appliances, including an ancient looking fridge that had tipped onto its side, taking down one of the railings in the process.
Here and there were signs of struggles; dark rusty blood sprayed across a doorway, bones lying scattered in a yard, a car with its trunk wide-open and tattered ragged clothes hanging out of it as if someone had been caught mid-packing. It looked like every town they came across these days; abandoned and eerie and tragic.
Beside him, Beth was still quiet. Funny the way it bothered him now to have her quiet; there'd been a time early on when it was just the two of them and he thought she'd never stop chatting away. Oddly, the thought reminded him of a familiar game they'd played in the past to distract one another or make the other smile. With a glance at her from the corner of his eyes, he began, "Never have I ever…" Beth giggled and he went on, "... been to a town this small."
"Oh c'mon Daryl, that's not fair, we've both definitely been to a town this small before." She looked up at him, laughter replacing the worry in her eyes. "No, you've gotta do another one. Re-do, c'mon."
"Fine, fine." Anything for her, especially when she was laughing instead of looking at him like her world was coming apart. He casted about for a better one, searching the depths of his mind before finally blurting out, "Never have I ever… gone on vacation."
"Wait, seriously?" Beth sat up straighter beside him, one hand on his chest as she looked into his eyes. "I mean, you get the point on that one, I've been on one before with Daddy and Mama but… you've really never…?"
"Nah," he drawled, feeling only a little bit awkward. He'd long since gotten used to sharing things with Beth that he'd never expected to tell anyone else. "We weren't exactly the family type. Went campin' in tents, but only to hunt. Never took a trip or—" His gaze drifted on the window, spotting something familiar up ahead in the distance. "—or even went camping in an RV or anything. Speaking of…"
Daryl slowed as they drove by a house that had numerous cars and trucks scattered around it in various states of deterioration. One of the homes that seemed to collect broken down vehicles in various states of disrepair. Perhaps the former owner had been a mechanic, or just a scavenger. There was even a boat sitting out front, which was admittedly unexpected, but what actually caught his eye was the motorhome parked next to it. Judging by the front—which resembled the cab of a truck with an overhang jutting out above it—it was a Class C Camper. The overhang bunk was probably a sleeping area, and it was likely to have a kitchenette inside and probably a bathroom, too. The once-white camper and its cab were covered in dirt, but even from here he could see that all four tires looked to still be in drive-able shape.
He arched an eyebrow at Beth and rolled almost to a stop. They already had two RVs, but no one would complain about adding a third. They provided extra living quarters, and doubled as watchtowers along the palisade walls.
"Yes, let's stop here," Beth responded to his unspoken question, sitting up and leaning slightly over him to peer at the motorhome. "We can take a look at it. Plus it's a good place to gather and plan before we get any further into the town." She glanced at him, face just a few inches away and blue eyes fixed on his as she joked, "But don't think I've forgotten the vacation thing, Dixon. We can talk about that later."
It was all he could do to look away from her and scan their surroundings, but he did, chiding himself to get himself under control. Distracting as it was having her that close, he could only continue to have her that way if he kept her safe; and keeping her safe meant staying on his toes.
The area around them looked as clear as it could get, so after one last glance around, he pulled off to the side, watching in his rear view mirror as the others followed suit. With a brief squeeze of Beth's shoulder, he pulled his arm back, opened the door, and slipped quietly out of the truck. Beth handed him his crossbow and then grabbed her own off the floor, slinging the strap over her shoulder in a practiced movement as she climbed out her side. Around them the others moved quietly, closing the doors to the cars and trucks with barely a noise to disturb the eerie silence that always settled over towns like this. They would have been quiet before the turn, but at least there would have been people out and about, cars trundling down the street here and there. Now, the only sounds he could hear was the cawing of a couple crows in the distance, and the flapping of a flag in the breeze on the house across the street.
Daryl turned to survey the area around them again, making sure there were no walkers in sight, or signs of anyone else. Next door to the garage with the boat and RV parked outside was what looked to be the local food mart, which sat on a four-way corner that made up the busiest part of the small town. The small building was built with worn wooden siding, and the wall facing them covered in old, tattered posters. Most of them were unreadable after years of weather and wear, but they could still read the words spray painted across them in dribbling black letters: THE END IS HERE.
"How pessimistic of them," Glenn joked as he came up beside them, holding a machete he'd borrowed from Maggie, a pistol in a holster at his waist. They had more guns than possibly ever before at this point, but most of them preferred the quieter weapons, and generally carried the guns only as backup. "People have been saying the end is here for years and yet, here we stand…"
"Hah hah," Beth replied, though there was a little smile on her lips as she said it. For his part, Daryl just kept scanning the area around them. He was always on edge in situations like this, his awareness sharpened by a desire to keep Beth safe. And the others too, of course. He glanced across the street from the food mart, to what looked like a restaurant or pair of shops. Judging by the lack of any signs above it, and the emptiness he could see beyond the glass even from here, he had a feeling it had been abandoned long before the walkers had arrived. To their right on the third corner was a post office with two cars abandoned out front, and the fourth corner held nothing but an overgrown field in front of a small white house that was set about 50 feet back from the road. There was a single silver trailer out front, but judging by the way the grass and vines had grown over it, it wasn't in driving condition even if they had something to hitch it to.
As the rest of the group approached, Daryl gave a nod towards the hopefully-working motorhome a short distance away. "Figured we could give it a lookover, see if it runs. Then make a plan for how we're gonna handle the rest of the town."
By now, most of the group had become familiar with each other's silent gestures and hand signals, and everyone moved into action as Daryl directed them. With a nod and a flick of his hand, he had Tyrese and Sasha moving around to the back of the motor home to make sure the garage doors were closed and to check for the exit. Another gesture, and Carol and Glenn were moving to cover the right side of the RV. Rosita stayed in the road with Carl, guarding the front and keeping an eye on the area around them so no one would catch them unaware; walkers or otherwise.
The group moved with a rhythm born of practice, but Beth and Daryl were like a well-oiled machine on an entirely different level. After all, they were the official scouts of the group. They were the ones who spent the most time out together on runs, scouting the areas around Haven. Sometimes others would come with them; Michonne or Carol solo, or Maggie and Glenn as a pair, and sometimes even Carl, if they thought the trip was safe enough. But the two of them were always at the core of it; they'd spent months scouting the area together, and it showed. These days it was almost as if they read each other's minds rather than needing gestures at all.
Beth moved slightly in front of Daryl, holding her crossbow in one hand. A slight angle of her head was all she needed to know that he was in place behind her, ready with his crossbow to shoot anything that came out of the motorhome. Following a routine they had performed hundreds of times before, she lifted her free hand to knock on the door. There was a pause, a breath, and then she gripped the door and pulled it open, before sliding behind it in a swift, graceful movement.
Daryl lifted his crossbow an inch higher, steadying it, staring down the sight of it into the dimly lit motorhome beyond, waiting for a shambling figure to appear, or a noise or groan, or… Well, apparently, nothing. No movement, no sound, nothing came from within the motorhome except a trickle of disturbed dust, sifting through the golden beams of sunlight.
"Well that was anticlimactic," Glenn joked as he came around from the other side of the RV. "Really elegantly done though, you two, like watching choreography or-"
BAM!
Something slammed against the metal garage door to Daryl's left, making it rattle loudly in its frame. Everyone jumped as Daryl spun towards it, sighting his crossbow on it immediately, aware that in his periphery, Beth was doing the same thing.
But they'd taken their eyes off the RV too soon. Distracted by the sound of the walker rattling the garage door in an effort to free itself, they didn't see the real danger as it crept towards them.
"Beth, watch out!" Carl's cry echoed across the parking lot and Daryl turned sharply towards the RV door. It took him a perilous few seconds to realize that it wasn't the door that Carl was yelling about at all. By the time he figured it out, Beth was giving a low cry, her gaze fixed on the ground where a walker had reached out from under the motorhome to grab her ankle with a hand so rotted and decayed that it was almost skeletal.
His stomach dropped, but her cry had been of shock rather than panic, thankfully. She turned silently, lifting her crossbow and aiming it down at her feet. One sharp tug of her leg pulled the walker further into view, exposing the upper half of its body from under the side of the motorhome, so decayed he couldn't tell its gender, let alone its age. It looked up at her, mouth agape. The low moan that issued from its mouth rattled like tissue paper. Beth, calm as ever, merely took a single steadying breath and then fired a bolt directly into its rotted head.
Bullseye.
No, a single walker couldn't panic his girl, not these days. He'd be proud of that were he not busy kicking himself internally for not paying enough attention to begin with, for not checking under the RV, for not realizing what Carl had been warning her about, for—
"Don't," Beth whispered, turning and reaching up to cup the side of his arm and give it a gentle squeeze. Her face tilted up towards him and her eyes fixed on his. "Don't start blaming yourself already, Dixon. I'm alright. That thing was practically moving in slow motion. I'm fine, alright?"
"Shoulda checked under there first," he said gruffly. But after a long moment he gave her a short nod of agreement. He wouldn't ruminate on it, tempting though it was. He would just use it as fuel, encouragement to be as sharp as he possibly could be. He scuffed his foot on the ground and glanced back down at the still body of the walker. "Good shot, though."
"I know," she said, the confidence in her voice sending a warm flush right to his belly. Lord, but it was so attractive when she was confident. Not that she wasn't always attractive to him. Or that this was the place for thoughts like that. But a man couldn't help the way his body responded to the woman he loved more than anything else in this world.
"I see that look in your eyes, Dixon," Beth leaned in, whispering for his ears alone. "Save that for later, alright?"
He gave her a single long look and then, with a smirk, pushed the thoughts as way as best he could. For now, anyway. Clearing his throat with a cough, he looked around at the others, all of whom appeared to be pointedly avoiding looking directly at the pair of them, judging by the little smirks they all wore. Gruffly, he called out, "Let's clear the motorhome, see if it runs, an' then make us a plan."
Thankfully the motorhome proved to be worth all the drama; it was working, albeit with a rather low tank of gas. Ten minutes later they stood outside it, with Daryl's map spread out on the hood of the RV cab. "The town ain't that big at all." Daryl smoothed out the wrinkled map with his hands, and pointed down at a spot on it with his index finger. "We're right here. That buildin' next t' us is the food mart, which is one of our points of interest. Then there's a small pharmacy slightly down the road t' the right—" He dragged his finger down the road on the map and pointed to a circle where the pharmacy was. "—an' a garden center in th' opposite direction, down t' the left." His finger moved back, crossing the intersection and going further down the road to where he'd circled the garden center. "There's a couple businesses on the way there, but it's mostly houses otherwise."
Beth had been leaning slightly against his side as he spoke, peering around his arm to look at the map. Now she took up his train of thought, and said, "The town seems pretty quiet, not a lot of walkers in sight. So we reckon we should be able to split into smaller groups and get it all done at once, rather than going one by one to each spot."
"Beth an' I can take th' pharmacy," Daryl picked back up smoothly, "Since she knows best what we need." That it would enable them to look for supplies for Maggie remained un-said, though Beth seemed to understand, judging by the way she leaned into him just a little bit more.
"Ty and I can take the garden center," Sasha suggested after a quick glance at her brother. "Put those big arms of his to use with the heavy lifting."
Beth laughed. "Hey, don't forget your own arms, you're getting pretty muscular lately, Sash!"
Sasha grinned and arched one arm, flexing a muscle at them while her brother shook his head.
For his part Daryl only snorted slightly and then went on, "Then maybe Glenn an' Rosita can take th' food mart?"
As they both nodded, Carl cut in, "What about me?"
"You can come with me," Carol cut in before anyone else could reply, earning a grateful smile from Beth and a nod from Daryl.
"That would be perfect," Beth replied, her gaze fixed on Carl as he shifted a bit in place. "We need someone to go around the streets and check the nearby houses, look for anything outside we can use. Barrels, especially, so we can make some more rain barrels. But anything you can find. Wheelbarrows, tools, gardening supplies, anything we can use as weapons… good pieces of wood or metal we could build with. It's probably the hardest of the jobs, you have to have really good eyes to spot things, especially with everything all overgrown."
He could tell Beth was trying to angle Carl into not being upset, and it worked, judging by the way he puffed up his chest a bit and said proudly, "I can do that. I'm really good at spotting things now, you know that, right Daryl?"
"Yeah. My second greatest student," he replied with a wink and a nod towards Beth, who would always be his favorite, his best, his girl.
Carl seemed to know that and took the compliment for what it was. He stood a little straighter as he suggested, "We could check inside too, if there aren't any walkers. Maybe even mark the doors, so we know which ones are checked or not, in case we need to come back on another trip?"
"That's a great idea, Carl." Beth lifted her hand towards the boy standing beside her and gave his arm a brief squeeze. "Just be careful going inside. Both of you. If there are walkers inside, they've probably been in there so long now that you might not hear them at first. Like the one under the RV."
"The old ones are always slow to move," Daryl said gruffly, not liking the reminder of the walker he'd almost missed earlier. "Quieter, 'cause of it."
"We'll be careful." Carol's calm voice was reassuring, but the way she solidly met his gaze meant even more to Daryl. He knew he could trust her to keep Carl safe. Carol had been slowly coming around to the idea of Haven being their home for the past six months, and he knew she was still weary of the world, still unwilling to let hope burgeon in any way. But he also knew that she loved Carl, and she'd do anything to keep him safe. She always had.
"Alright," he said roughly as he grabbed the map, folded it into a square, and shoved it back down into his pocket. "Everyone got their assignment?" The others nodded. "Then let's get goin', see if we can work through this town in a few hours an' get back t' Haven before the sun sets. Y'all know the drill. Try to be quiet if y' can, but call out if y' need help an' someone'll come runnin'"
Sasha and Tyrese's van rumbled past them towards the garden center as Daryl parked the truck just outside the pharmacy and hopped out. With Daryl providing cover with his crossbow, Beth grabbed an empty canvas backpack from the truck-bed and slipped it on her back. Once that was settled, she grabbed her own bow from the seat and they turned almost in unison towards the pharmacy. It was a narrow brick building with a blue sign on the top that stated in white letters: Fitzgerald Pharmacy. Beneath the sign, a tattered white and blue striped awning hung over the glass front door and the two large windows that framed it. It was rare to find a building like this where the windows weren't already shattered and smashed, the stores shelves and supplies scattered around it in the wake of raiders. Rare enough to make Daryl the slightest bit suspicious.
He supposed this town was so small that possibly none of the locals had had a chance to scavenge it, and no one else had come through since. The kind of place most people only ever drove through by coincidence and didn't know about otherwise. It was somewhat unlikely, but not impossible. Many of the homes they'd found around the lake had been untouched, after all. Still, he felt a little on edge as he studied the pharmacy with Beth at his side. It also hadn't slipped his mind that they'd only seen the one walker under the motorhome so far, and the one that had been banging away inside the garage. They hadn't seen a single one yet roaming the streets, which made him wonder if they were all trapped inside the businesses and houses, or if something more suspicious was afoot here.
"It's so eerie," she murmured, mimicking his thoughts. "If it wasn't for how empty and quiet it is, I would almost say it's like walking up to any pharmacy back in the day, you know?"
"Mmm. Best not t' let our guard down, though," he remarked, though he knew he didn't really need to warn her. She had as good a radar as he did for things that felt off. Sometimes even better. Beth knocked on the door to rouse any walkers within, but nothing stirred beyond the glass. They saw no movement, heard no groans or moans from anything within. So after a long moment, Daryl reluctantly pulled open the door and led the way inside.
The bell jingled over their heads as they stepped into the pharmacy, breathing in air that felt as if it had been undisturbed for years. It was thick with dust, which sifted through the air and lay in a thick film on most of the shelves. The entire room was a big square. There was a wide aisle down the center, framed on either side by horizontal rows of shelves. The aisle led to a small white counter with a white sign above it reading "PRESCRIPTIONS" in bold blue font. Behind the counter he could just make out the pharmacy shelves, still filled at least partly with numerous bottles and containers of medication. To the left, behind the rows of shelving, were two coolers filled with drinks he suspected were no longer worth drinking. The coolers were dark, as was the rest of the shop, but the glass in the front of them was unbroken. To the right, a vine-like plant had broken through a small upper window and grown across half of the wall to twine around the shelves that covered it.
The jingling of the bell above them ceased and still, nothing stirred except dust. Both of them kept their crossbows up regardless as they swept the shop, Beth taking the right side with a nod as he covered the left. He looked only for signs of danger, ignoring anything on the shelves for now as he checked each aisle. "Left side is clear," he called out softly, just as Beth came into view from the other side.
"Right side, too."
They met in the middle, standing in front of the pharmacy counter. He couldn't miss the hopeful look in her eyes as she scanned beyond, gaze drifting over the innumerable bottles that lined the back shelves. It wasn't much; after all, it was a small town pharmacy. It probably carried an eighth of what one might have found at a big city pharmacy back in the day. But to them, two years into this, it was an incredible find.
He couldn't help but remember the sight of that walker's rotted hand curled around Beth's ankle, and he refused to let his guard down just because they had a possible haul in front of them. Bow still up and at the ready, Daryl nodded to the door on the left side of the counter, which had "Employees Only" written on it in small black lettering.
"Reckon that's the only way to the back, unless we wanna jump the counter. Give it a knock, just in case?" After all, he couldn't say if it led directly to the pharmacy area, or to a hallway or another room, where a nearly-rotted member of the walking dead might be waiting for them.
But their routine proved unnecessary yet again. When Beth finally swung the door open, there was nothing beyond but a short hallway. A door to the right was marked "Pharmacy" in the same black letters, and at the end of the small hallway was another door marked "Office."
"Let's clear the office first," Beth suggested just a second before he had been about to say the same thing. He gave her a little smile at that, pleased as always that their thoughts always seemed so aligned. Neither of them wanted anything coming out of there and sneaking up on them while they were distracted looking through medication.
Yet again there was no reaction beyond when Beth knocked on the door but this time, when she opened it, she gave a little gasp and took a step back towards him in shock. "Oh! … God, that startled me."
He came up behind her and peered over her shoulder into the room. The small office was dimly lit, nothing much beyond but two armchairs off to the left, and a desk sitting directly across from them. It took him only a second to see what had startled Beth. Seated in the chair behind the desk, facing the door and staring at them with hollow eyes, was a dead man.
And he was definitely dead, judging by the blackened bullet hole that sat starkly in the center of his forehead. He wore a white lab coat with a name over the right pocket that Daryl couldn't read from here. His face was gaunt, almost rotted right down to the skull, and what remained of his hair was gray and matted. His eyes were two dark sockets, the eyeballs long since decomposed, and there was a red stain down the front of his coat and shirt that Daryl suspected was blood; though he couldn't say if it was from the man himself, or someone else.
"Did he… kill himself?" The hesitancy in Beth's voice, and the way she stopped just inside the doorway with her eyes fixed on the corpse, had Daryl instinctively taking the lead. His hand brushed briefly and reassuringly across her lower back as he moved around her into the room, the crossbow dipping just slightly as he studied the scene.
"Dunno," he said after a long moment. "Don't see any gun on the desk, nothin' on his lap or in his hands." He rounded the desk to stand behind the dead man, sharp eyes piercing the gloom to study the floor around him and under the desk. "Don't see a gun anywhere. Either he did it himself an' someone took th' gun after…"
"Or someone killed him and left. Maybe he… maybe he turned? Or got bitten, and they had to stop him from turning?" Beth's hand dipped slightly where she held her own crossbow, her fingers twitching slightly towards her other hand. Or to her wrist, he thought where as always she wore the bracelets he had gotten for her months ago to replace the ones she'd lost at the hospital. Her fingers often slipped under them to trace the lines of her scars there, usually when something triggered her memories of how she'd gotten them. Something like this. He hadn't seen her do it in awhile, but then again, they didn't often come across scenes of suicides too often. Usually it was dead walkers, not humans. And if it was humans, it was usually at the hands of someone else.
"Either way, he's not gonna come after us," Daryl said, gripped with the desire to get out of this room so that Beth wouldn't have to stare at the corpse any longer, wouldn't have to think, or wonder, or remember. This was a mystery, but not one they needed to solve. "C'mon Greene, let's get a look at what kind of meds they have." He crossed back to her, blocking the man from view and drawing her gaze to him instead. "You expectin' anythin' good?"
The question seemed to immediately divert her attention just as planned, though he suspected his ruse didn't go unnoticed, considering the soft smile she gave him as she stepped out of the room and watched him close the door behind them. "Well it's a small pharmacy, so they won't have too much. Pain pills, for sure. Hopefully some antibiotics. You know, that reminds me. We should remember to look for vet's offices, and not just pharmacies. I bet no one will have ransacked them, because a lot of people don't know that animal antibiotics and stuff work on humans, too."
As Daryl moved in front of her to knock on the door that led to the pharmacy—they hadn't seen anyone back there from the counter, but it never hurt to be careful—Beth went on, "But I'm really hoping for some prenatal vitamins for Maggie. And formula. Pharmacies sometimes have it, and it won't hurt to start looking for it now, in case she…" Beth swallowed hard and went on with what sounded to his ears (practiced in reading Beth's tones above any others) like forced brightness, "In case she can't breastfeed."
It was easy to read the words between the lines, especially for Daryl, who had been the one to leave the prison after Lori's death, desperately searching for formula to give the Lil' Asskicker so she wouldn't die of starvation. No, that wouldn't be happening again, not the least of which because he was determined to do whatever it took to help Maggie survive the labor. And if having a supply of formula meant Beth and her sister were a tiny bit less worried, then he'd find all the damn formula in a hundred mile radius, if he had to. Or beyond.
He pushed open the door to the pharmacy and swept inside, scanning the shelves and the empty space until he was sure nothing was lying in wait for them. "Looks clear to me," he said after a long moment. He hesitated only a beat, and then slung the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder to free both hands.
From the corner of his eye he saw Beth do the same, and then immediately move to the shelves to begin scanning for medication. It wasn't the first pharmacy or medical facility he'd raided with her. Hell, they'd spent months checking cabins and houses, too, reading the labels of every bottle they found in people's medicine cabinets and bed-side tables. By now, he knew the names to look for.
Soon he'd come across a couple bottles of different antibiotics that he dropped into the backpack Beth had set in the middle of the floor for them both to use. "Got some Amoxycillin, Cephalexin, and Erthromy-somethin' or other," he called out lowly as he approached her from behind where she was studying one of the shelves. "Y' find anythin'?"
"Some pain pills," she remarked softly, her gaze fixed on something pushed far back onto the shelf. "Also Losartan, and Bystolic. High blood pressure meds. Good to have in general, but I think high blood pressure is a worry with… with pregnant women."
Something about the hesitancy in her soft voice gave Daryl pause. He took a step closer, coming up just a few inches behind her. Over her shoulder, he could see her staring at several small rectangular boxes, though he couldn't read the names on them. "What's that?" He asked softly, one hand coming out instinctively to rest on her hip.
She licked her lips once, and then hesitantly replied, "Birth control pills."
"Ah." They'd never thought to look for pills before, though he wasn't quite sure why. Condoms had always been easy to grab, perhaps, or maybe she wasn't sure about the medication names, or the side effects. But now she was staring at them as if she wanted to grab them, but wasn't quite sure she should. "Why don't you grab them, then? Are they expired or something?"
"No. They last two or three years, I think. They just might not be as effective. But if we paired them with condoms, it might prevent…"
Ah. That was what was on her mind. Not Maggie's pregnancy, but the possibility of her own. Admittedly, his own stomach lurched a bit at the realization, but not necessarily out of fear of her getting pregnant. No. His sudden sense of dread came more from the reappearance of Merle's voice at the back of his head. That voice had fallen mostly into silence in the last few months, since Beth's voice had taken prominence instead, and since they'd finished working through his book on surviving and recovering from childhood abuse.
But there was Merle, his southern drawl full of malice as he whispered doubts through Daryl's mind, 'Course she's worried about getting pregnant now. Who'd want t' have a kid with you, Darylina? Merle's laugh echoed down the dark tunnels of his mind, stirring up negative thoughts in their wake. Why would she want t' have a dirty little Dixon kid? Probably be an idiot, just like you.
Without realizing it, his hand had tightened against Beth's hip, gripping it hard enough through the fabric of her jeans that she made a little breathy noise and half-turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Daryl?" Her soft voice had just a hint of worry to it and it cut through the doubting thoughts like a sweet knife, bringing guilt in its wake. Guilt, because she was the one who needed comfort and support right now and here he was, making it about him without even trying.
"It's nothin'," He forced out, shaking his head so the fringes of his hair swayed briefly across his eyes with the motion. "You should take 'em. Why wouldn't you? Are you worried about the side effects or somethin'?"
"No, it's not that. I was surprised to find them at all, honestly, I… hadn't really thought to look for them until I saw them. It's just…" She was still half-turned in his arms, though his hand had relaxed against her hip so that his fingers no longer dug into her skin. He was struck by the sudden urge to wrap his arms around her, but found himself hesitating in a way he hadn't done in over six months, back to the days when he still thought himself unworthy of touching her. "It just made me remember, I guess. How scared I was at first, when Maggie told me. Not just that she was pregnant, but the possibility that I might…"
That she might get knocked up by your dumb ass. Merle's malicious whisper wormed its way back into his brain.
"Daryl." She turned to him fully now, leaving the boxes of pills behind her. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, and try as he might, he couldn't quite avoid her piercing gaze. Probably because deep down inside, he didn't want to. He wanted to look into those blue eyes, to sink into the depths of them, to drown in them and the love he saw there. "There you are," she whispered as his darker gaze met hers at last. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I have a feeling somehow we've gotten out of sync, so I just want you to know. I'm scared of getting pregnant, because I—" Her eyes watered and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Because I don't want anything to go wrong, Daryl. Because I don't want to d—" She swallowed hard again. "I don't want to lose you. To be separated from you."
He knew what she meant. The knowledge of it, the understanding of that unspoken word, hit him like a tidal wave and washed away Merle's voice, at least for now. He acted without thinking, finally, both hands coming up to grip Beth's waist and lift her up. She gasped and clung to him, hands sliding up to his shoulders to hold on tight as he spun her around, took two big steps forward, and set her carefully down on the counter top. He parted her legs with a nudge of her thigh and stood between them, her legs curved around his and his hands shifting slowly to cradle her back.
"I don't want that either," He murmured, leaning in so his forehead rested against hers. "And it won't happen, alright? It won't. We'll grab those pills, and any others we can find. And condoms, if they have them. And… well look, I don't know much about that… stuff. But I'll find books, if I have to. We'll figure it out. We'll try whatever it takes. I guess even…"
"Abstinence?" She plucked the word from his mind, which was good, because he wasn't sure he could pronounce it even if he'd wanted to. To his surprise, she laughed, a soft bell-like sound that loosened something inside of him, shone another bright light into those dark thoughts. "Daryl Dixon, you must be crazy if you think that would ever work for us. You think I could keep my hands off you like that?"
"No." He felt a smile tug at his lips and gave into it, his hands coming up to cup her sweet face as he pulled back just enough to look down into it. "Couldn't keep my hands off you either, Greene. Wouldn't want to."
"I know, you're insatiable." She was teasing him, he knew she was, because she had that little playful smirk she got sometimes, the one that always ended in her biting her lip a little. It usually made him want to kiss her, and she knew that, too. Probably did it purely to tempt him into kissing her, frankly. So he did. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers without hesitation. His lips parted, drawing her own between them. The taste of her shivered across his tongue and he made a low noise that she matched with a breathy little one of her own.
He swallowed the sound, swallowed both their sounds as he just kissed her, tasted her, loved her. Her tongue teased across his and then dipped inside, meeting his own in a teasing tangle until finally she drew back enough to gasp for breath. "I love you too," she whispered as she looked deeply and lovingly into his eyes; knowing, as she always seemed to, that his kiss had been his way of telling her that.
But they couldn't quite dispel the ghost of that earlier confusion, no matter how much he would have liked to. She raised one hand to slowly brush her fingers across his cheek, and asked, "What did you think I was worried about earlier, Daryl?"
But he couldn't tell her. Not because he didn't trust her. He trusted her with the world. With his life. With every dark thought he'd ever had. But if he spoke it right now, it would summon that voice back. It would bring back all those negative thoughts and right now, he didn't think he could handle them again. Couldn't have them breaking his focus here, in this town, where he needed to be on edge to keep her safe.
"Later," he whispered. That was one of the things they'd learned from both their books. Sometimes they both needed the time to come to terms with their thoughts, to get accustomed to the emotions they brought up, and to find the words to tell the other how they felt, in a space that felt safe. Later had become their little codeword for it, the singular thing they could tell the other person, so the other would immediately know what they really meant: It's not that I can't tell you. I want to tell you. But not right now. I need time, I need space, I need to gather my thoughts. But I would tell you anything, and I will tell you this, too, just… later.
So Beth just gave him that understanding little smile as her fingers drifted up to curl through his hair and around the shell of his ear. "Okay," she whispered back. "But do we have to save the kisses for later too? Or…"
She really would be the death of him. But not right now, not here in this empty pharmacy that they had cleared, that he was sure was safe and empty of anyone but the two of them. So he leaned in and caught her lips with his again, gave in to the warmth that rushed to fill his body, to the tingles that shivered down his spine, to the heat that made his hands find her hips again and curl in deep as she playfully teased her tongue against his.
He kissed her until they were both breathless, and even then they didn't stop, just gasped against each other's mouths in the little gaps between kisses, clutching at each other, lost in a world that was just the two of them…
Until a shout from outside broke through the moment and shattered the illusion.
"DARYL! BETH!"
Beth pulled back from Daryl with a gasp and turned her upper body, craning to look out the pharmacy door. "Was that Carl?"
"Think so. C'mon, girl." With only a hint of reluctance, he drew back from Beth, gripped her hips, and lifted her down to the floor.
While she took a few precious moments to grab the boxes of birth control pills off the shelf and shove them into the backpack, Daryl hopped over the counter, slipping his crossbow off his shoulder in a smooth movement as he did so. Crossbow raised in front of him, he strode slowly towards the front door. Beth quickly slung the backpack over both shoulders, grabbed her own bow, and followed suit, bringing up the rear.
They pushed out the glass door, Daryl in the lead and Beth just behind him, to see Carl and Carol standing in the middle of the road to their right, staring down the road in that direction. At the sound of the jingling door bells, Carl turned towards them. Daryl studied the boy; his eyes were wide, but they seemed to be more in surprise or perhaps shock than anything else. He didn't seem upset, and there were no walkers or anyone else in sight besides Carol.
Daryl slowed as he approached them, eyes scanning the area around them still for signs of whatever was amiss. "Trouble?"
"No, Daryl. Well not exactly, it's just— There was a girl?"
Beth came up beside him, her voice quizzical, "A girl? You mean, like a walker?"
Carl shook his head, stumbling to explain, "No, a girl! A human girl!"
As Beth reached out to squeeze Carl's shoulder, Daryl's gaze sought out Carol's, silently asking for an explanation.
"We were in the backyard of the house next door, loading some bricks we found into a wheelbarrow. Carl said he saw someone in the window at the back of the house, looking out at us. I turned to check, but I didn't see anything except maybe a curtain moving slightly."
Carl, who had calmed down a little bit at Beth's encouragement, cut in, "I saw her! She was in the window looking out at us. She had… like brown hair and dark eyes, she was watching us. But when she realized I saw her, she closed the curtain and vanished."
"Well, we tried the back door and it was locked, but there was a hole in the glass, just the right spot to reach in and unlock the door." Carol turned slightly, staring speculatively at the small, dingy blue house that sat next to the pharmacy, separated by another small paved street. Like the others in the town, the yard was overgrown with grass, as well as a number of bushes and trees that made the backyard invisible from where they were standing. Only some of the house could be seen; the windows in the front and the side facing them were all covered in curtains or shades and the front door was boarded shut.
"We went inside carefully," Carol continued. "I made noise, but nothing responded. The house was clearly abandoned a long time ago, but it looked like someone had been there recently. There were footprints in the dust on the floors, leading right up to the window. We followed them through the house and just when we were about to reach the end of the hallway, we heard a noise in the living room."
"It was the girl!" Carl broke in again, excitement making his voice crack slightly. "She climbed out a window on the side of the living room. You can't see it from here—" He turned to look at the house and pointed at the far corner. "But we saw her, climbing out. She looked back at us, but only for a few seconds. I tried calling for her out the window, telling her to wait, but she was already running down the street that way."
As Carl pointed down the road in the direction Sasha and Tyrese had gone, Carol turned back to them and shrugged. "By the time we got back around to the front of the house, she was gone. I have no idea if she's scared and alone, or if she's living with someone… maybe there's a group here we haven't seen yet?"
"She looked scared," Carl said softly, turning his plaintive brown eyes on Beth. "What if she's alone and has no one to take care of her? Shouldn't we go after her?"
Daryl had seen him use that look on Rick more than enough times to know the boy desperately wanted something. And if he knew Beth, it would work. Carl was plucking all the right strings, because after all, his Beth would never abandon someone in need. No matter the fact that something within him was sending up a soft but steady alarm of warning.
Again he turned to Carol, assuming she would be the voice of reason, or at least the voice arguing against it, as she so often was. But to his surprise, there was an unexpected softness to Carol's face. No, not softness, not exactly. Yearning. His eyebrow raised, and Carol quietly replied, "She looked young. Probably about the same age as… Carl."
Or the same age as Sophia, Daryl thought immediately. His gaze flicked to Beth's. Neither of them spoke, but he knew she was thinking along the same thoughts as him, in this instance. Knew she was remembering Sophia, the sight of that little girl-turned-walker, stumbling out of the Greene family barn right along with Beth's mother. Beth gave the tiniest of shudders, invisible to probably everyone else about him, but held his gaze and gave a soft nod. She knew what they needed to do. And if she thought they needed to do it, then he would follow.
He reached for her, hand finding the small of her back and rubbing a soft circle there for a moment before he turned his attention back to the others. "Let's get Rosita and Glenn from the foodmart, make sure they're all done, an' then we'll go lookin' for her. Gotta go that way t' get Tyrese and Sasha, anyway."
They had collected Glenn and Rosita, the trunk of their car filled with canned food and other nonperishables, and driven both the car and the truck down to the garden center without seeing a single sign of anyone else. By the time Sasha and Tyrese had meet them beside their van, now ladened with gardening supplies that included bags of soil, gravel, pots, and several overgrown plants, the sun was passed the high point in the sky and making its way towards the western horizon, and they still hadn't seen a glimpse of the mysterious girl.
"We're gonna have to get goin' soon, if we don't spot her soon," Daryl said, feeling an immediate twinge of guilt at the look on both Carol and Carl's faces.
"You said she was alone?" Sasha stood next to Tyrese, her rifle slung across her back, fingers absent-mindedly playing with the knife at her waist. "Rare to see a kid on their own these days. She must have someone nearby, maybe her family, or a group…"
"I'm telling you, she looked scared." Carl seemed determined to get that point across, as if he had seen something in the girl in the few moments their eyes had locked that spoke to something inside him. Beth watched him with a concerned look on her face as beside them, Carol continued to scan the streets as well.
"She could have been scared just to see other people," Beth suggested hesitantly. "Every survivor we've come across in the past couple years has been, usually. If they're not, they're aggressive." Which in turn, was why most of the rest was usually terrified. Who could blame them?
"I don't know," Carol murmured, still slowly turning as if she expected to find the girl hiding somewhere, watching them. "She looked back at us when she climbed out the window, and she had this look in her eyes, as if she w—"
But whatever she looked like, they didn't get to hear, because at that exact moment a scream cut through Carol's words, echoing from somewhere nearby.
"Over there!" Carl shouted, pointing towards two small buildings that were located diagonally across the street from them. Daryl could see from here that both were brick, with large glass windows in the front that had been spray painted with more words; one said NO HOPE and the other THE DEAD RULE NOW.
"Carl, wait!" Beth put out a hand, stopping Carl from running towards the buildings without them. Instead the group moved together, gathering their weapons and keeping them at the ready as they approached the two shops. As they got closer, the building's original signs came into view. The one to the left was unreadable, just smudges of letters covered in dirt. He guessed it to be a barbershop though, judging by the pole attached to the side of it that swirled with red, blue, and white stripes. In the building to the right he could spot worn down booths and tables beyond the glass window, and the sign hanging above the door read in faded red letters: TIGER DINER.
But the screams didn't come from either shop; the doors were closed, the windows unbroken, and the piercing cries much too loud. "Help! Please, someone help me!" He could only assume the girl was somewhere outside the buildings; perhaps out back, or in the narrow gap between them. And as they closed the distance they heard something else, something far more familiar: the groaning sounds of the dead.
With Beth beside him and the others close behind, Daryl reached the sidewalk and came to a sudden stop. The narrow alleyway between the two buildings extended in front of them, barely the width of a person with their arms outstretched. A garbage can lay on its side, trash scattered around it. Beyond it were two walkers, both in similar stages of decay as the one that had crawled out from under the RV to attack Beth. They moved slowly, in sharp movements rendered jagged by their old and half-broken bones.
But they weren't looking at Daryl or Beth or anyone else in the group. Their undead gazes were fixed instead on the young girl who was currently trying in vain to climb up the tall chain-link fence that blocked the end of the alley, her feet struggling to find purchase, her hands scrambling against the vine-covered fence, and her mouth opened in a terrified scream as the walkers came slowly but inexorably closer.
If they didn't help her, the walkers would reach right up and pull her from that fence and to her death.
A/N: Yes, it's a cliffhanger, I KNOW. But sometimes they're fun, alright? Also this chapter got away from me and I had to end it there. That scene with Beth and Daryl in the pharmacy just took over me and ended up being quite a bit longer than I'd planned, but I guess that's how writing works sometimes. It's the same thing that happened to my outline for the rest of this, which has already expanded from 10 planned chapters to 14. Oops. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks again for the comments last week, they really helped lift my mood.