*Peeks out*
Hi!
After more than a decade reading fan fiction of all genres and varying degrees of smuttiness I have finally broken and am now posting something for the world to read.
(Blame jaimek45. She's the one who made me all excited and confident. Go read her stuff by the way. It'll fill you with Bethyl joy)
I'm aware vegetasbubbles also has a Bethyl werewolf story and I'm following hers but come on, we can all look at Daryl and see an animal. A sexy, adorable animal.
So expect snark and smut. This isn't going to get dark and it's really just an excuse to have Beth call Daryl a grumpy puppy.
Be gentle kind reviewers. I am but a humble woman kneeling at the alter of The Walking Dead.

Daryl Dixon had a vast amount of experience carrying his unconscious brother around.
This time was special though because Merle wasn't drunk, stoned, or dealing with the results of a fight caused by his mouth overloading his ass.
No, Merle had managed to get his forearm caught in an old trap hidden deep in the woods and after a particularly creative string of curses had gone white as a sheet and dropped.
(For all the times Merle had called Daryl a pussy Daryl considered this karma and his brotherly duty was to remind his big brother every chance he could.)
Daryl wasn't sure if he should leave the trap or try and pry it open.
The teeth of the trap were horribly rusted but what if the pressure was the only thing keeping Merle from bleeding out?
Deciding to err on the side of caution Daryl half-dragged, half-carried his only family to his beat up Ford and buckled him in all the while trying not to jostle the steel clamped into his arm.
There was only one place someone like Merle, someone like Daryl could go in this situation.
Hershel Greene.

Hershel was well acquainted with the Dixons. In his wild days, before he got sober and became the husband and father he should have been, he could often be found drinking and brooding with Will Dixon. Even after he left that life behind he was still connected to the Dixons. He tried so hard to help Will, help him find his way but Will only sunk deeper into the bottle and managed to drag his wife and boys down with him. Hershel couldn't count the number of times Will's dead eyed wife Camille came to see him about broken ribs or a fractured jaw sometimes accompanied by a belligerent adolescent who wore his bruises proudly and a stoic little boy whose blue eyes saw more than most. It had been over a decade since Hershel had seen those eyes up close which explained the blatant look of shock on his face as he answered his door.

"Daryl!?….Wha-"
"Merle's hurt", Daryl managed to rasp out. "Went runnin' and got caught in an old trap. I didn't…I don't"
Hershel cut the youngest Dixon off with a firm nod.
"Well, get him inside and we'll do what we can do."
Hershel and Daryl were pleased to find Merle conscious and almost lucid; they were less pleased that he still managed to be an insufferable bastard.
"Aww Darylina, 'M touched you care so much but stop lookin' like such a bitch" Merle slurred, "Almost shamed of ya".
Heaving his brother onto an exam table in what used to be a guest bedroom Daryl took a deep breath to calm himself. You'd think dealing with Merle all his life would have made him used to the barbs and insults that regularly came out of his mouth but perfect aim was a Dixon trait and Merle always knew what rankled Daryl the most.
As Hershel bustled into the room, arms full of medical supplies Daryl's body stilled and his muscles locked.
"The fuck…" he muttered.
Beneath the typical smells of a well-loved home, the farm, and the sterile smell of the exam room Daryl smelled something that made the thing inside of him twist and ache and need.
"Daryl. Daryl!"
Snapping out of his reverie Daryl met Hershel's concerned gaze.
"Yes sir?"
Pointing to the hinges of the steel attacked to Merle's arm the old man explained that the rust kept the trap from closing fully and mangling his brother's forearm beyond any hope of recovery.
"Now I've already given him some morphine to help with the pain but," Hershel smiled wryly, "don't expect this to go smoothly. First things first we need to get the trap itself off".

Beth Greene considered herself an understanding person but whoever was downstairs cursing and hollering was getting on her last nerve.
Throwing the pillow she had been using to block out the ruckus interrupting her sleep, Beth sat up with a huff and decided that going downstairs to help would be the best way to speed up the patient's treatment and get them on their way. Besides, if she wanted to follow in her father's footsteps she'd need experience with situations like this.
Throwing off the covers the young woman immediately shivered and goose bumps spread across her pale skin. Slipping on her brother Shawn's old UGA sweatshirt Beth pulled the hood up. For some reason she was always miserable when her ears were cold. Closing her door and stepping lightly down the stairs Beth heard the familiar sound of her father's competent voice trying his best to calm the angry man who had woken her. Towards the bottom of the stairs Beth realized there was a third voice, low and rumbly making her think of thunder in the distance for a moment. The petite blonde shook her head at her own ridiculousness and stopped in front of the makeshift exam room. As she opened her mouth to offer her father help Beth locked eyes with the dark man at Hershel's side. Her breath caught at the wild look written so plainly on his face and if she hadn't been so mesmerized she would have turned and run.

Daryl often wondered if Merle was worth it.
He loved him and blood was blood but getting punched in the gut while his brother was getting stitched up and yelling like a madman made Daryl wish, not for the first time, that he'd been an only child.
It didn't help that he knew Merle couldn't stay out of trouble to save his life.
In his defense, Merle only landed the punch because Daryl was still so damn distracted by that smell he kept catching. That beautiful, amazing, fucking perfect scent he just wanted to curl up in and keep for himself.
"Son, you're going to need to hold him down so I can finish stitching him properly. I'll give him one more shot to help him deal with it"
Looking directly at Merle Hershel quirked an eyebrow and said, "If you don't stop thrashing about you'll pull your stitches and I'll have to do them all over again".
Clenching his jaw and visibly resisting the urge to spew vitriol at the old man Merle managed to settle down.
Hershel Greene was one of the few men Daryl respected and at that moment he liked him better than any man he knew. Seeing his brother cowed down was a rare event and for it to be done by a 70 year old human just made it even better.
As the extra morphine began to work it's magic Daryl watched Merle relax and he didn't even react when the final stitches were made or when Hershel gave him a tetanus shot.
The shot wasn't really necessary given their particular physiology but when Daryl mentioned it Hershel simply shrugged.
"Better safe than sorry."
Grabbing a nearby blanket Daryl covered his brother and went to help Hershel clean up when he heard the stairs creak and a light tread coming close.
As he turned to look his back snapped taut and his eyes went impossibly wide.
The scent, that scent, was standing in front of him and he'd never seen anything so glorious in his life.
She was small, fine-boned, and almost drowning in the red sweatshirt she was wearing. Creamy pale skin and waves of golden hair peaking out from the hood she'd pulled up. Her eyes were so blue and he couldn't breathe her in deep enough.
She smelled like cotton fields and sunshine and the orchards at the beginning of peach season.
She smelled like softness, comfort, like home.
It took every ounce of Daryl's willpower to keep still, to keep from striding over so he could bury his nose in her neck and imprint everything she was into his skin.
His hands twitched and his jaw ached and everything inside him howled out one word.
"MINE"

Hershel saw the way Daryl Dixon was staring at his youngest and he saw she was staring right back and at that moment he knew Beth's life would never be the same.
A quiet chuckle interrupted his thoughts and he saw Merle smirking at him.
Casting heavy lidded eyes towards the two Merle managed to slur out,
"Looks like Little Red found the Big Bad Wolf".