Hello, muffins. This Bethyl no zombies fic came at the request of some readers who were bummed when my "That Damn Girl" fic took a zombie turn. I'll update both, so enjoy whichever you prefer!

"You don't have to go, Bethie." Maggie frowned as she watched her sister toss all of her earthly belongings into her Jeep. "I think you're overreacting."

"Really?" Beth snarled, heaving a canvas bag full of scarves into the back seat. "You sound like Daddy. I can't stay. You know I can't stay. Would you stay if Glenn cheated on you while you were engaged?"

Maggie shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Beth cut her off. "No, you wouldn't, and that's exactly what Jimmy did. The wedding is- was- in four months, now there's nothing. All that work went to waste. All that time of us being together, Mags." She snatched a garbage bag of t-shirts and thrust it into an empty space in the trunk. "It's bullshit and you know it. I'm leaving. I've gotta get out for a while. I need to figure out what I'm doin' with my life. This isn't it."

Maggie shifted her weight and struggled for the right words. "You don't even know this new town-"

"I have a job there. It pays better than my job here. The apartment complex is cute and nice, it's not that long of a drive, and it's not like you won't be able to still talk to me every day." Beth brushed her hands off and examined the Jeep.

It was stuffed to the ceiling with what was essentially her entire life. Everything she owned was crammed into the Jeep and a trailer. She'd been living on her family farm with her father Hershel, and her sister and brother-in-law lived nearby and ran a restaurant in town. Her brothers had moved off to bigger cities and didn't come by much. Beth had been engaged to a local boy named Jimmy whom she'd found perfectly acceptable. Her job as a newspaper reporter was acceptable as well and her life was pleasant enough. Her mother had passed away of cancer a few years ago, but Jimmy and her family had been a great support system.

"Ready to go?" a voice came.

Beth looked up and nodded at her brother-in-law Glenn. "Yeah, that's everything." She fished into her purse and pulled out her keys. "Guess this is it for now!"

"Better go say goodbye to Hershel," Glenn suggested.

Beth pursed her lips and gave her head a small shake. "No, we're not on the best terms right now."

"He's your father," Glenn said, a kind look on his face. "I really think you should at least tell him goodbye." He glanced at his wife, then back to Beth. "He's family."

"You have to," Maggie demanded. "Go in and tell him you're packed up."

"No," Beth said plainly. "Daddy wants me to marry a man who doesn't even care about me. I don't want to talk to him right now. I'd just say somethin' I didn't mean. This is better for now, okay?"

"He doesn't want- Jimmy's a good guy. He made a mistake," Maggie argued.

"Made a mistake over and over for months behind my back?" Beth got into the Jeep and slammed the door. Through the window, she continued, "You're starting to sound like Daddy. Easy for you since you got a good one like Glenn."

Maggie turned and stormed back into her father's farmhouse. Glenn signed and leaned against the car window. "I'll follow you. We should be able to get this stuff unloaded and furniture picked up and put together in a few hours. High ho, I guess."

Beth turned the key and took off for her new life.

Daryl wiped off the grease from the door knob. "There ya are, Mrs. Hudson. Won't stick no more."

The kind old woman in apartment 221 smiled and nodded. "Thank you, young man! It's so hard to grab with these dumb old hands."

"Anything else while I'm here?" The man wiped his hands on a bandana and stuffed it into his back pocket. Daryl Dixon was a maintenance man at the Woodbury Oaks apartment complex in his small Georgia town, and he loved it. The residents were always thankful when he showed up to fix whatever they'd broken. He got free board out of the deal, and the apartments sure weren't shabby.

Mrs. Hudson thought a moment before raising a crooked, wrinkled finger. "Oh. Will you fetch down the popcorn maker for me from that high cabinet? My grandkids are coming to visit tomorrow. They love popcorn. They ask for it every time they come to Grandma's! Extra butter, of course!"

"Yes, ma'am," Daryl replied, striding across the kitchen and pulling down the popper. "I'll leave it on the counter here."

Mrs. Hudson beamed. "Thank you, Daryl. Have a cookie. I baked them this morning. They're on the dining room table."

Daryl grinned and eyed the plate of monster cookies: his favorite. Mrs. Hudson, an old widow, was hands-down his favorite resident. He'd never had family growing up, but he imagined she was every bit the grandma he would have had. "Mrs. Hudson. You make those 'cause I was comin' by to fix the door?"

The old woman feigned confusion. "What do you mean, dear? I always bake cookies. Now have some or they'll just go to waste. They're your favorite."

Daryl laughed, then grabbed a cookie. "Thought you'd never say so."

"Might as well take a load off while you're here," Mrs. Hudson continued. She pointed at the couch. "Family Feud is coming on. We can play along." She picked up the remote and turned the TV up. "I'll beat you again."

Daryl plopped down on the couch. It wouldn't hurt to take a few minutes. Besides, Mrs. Hudson sits around by herself all day. Consider it good karma for the week. "Survey says you're probably right."

Glenn wiped sweat from his face. "Geeze. You had to be on the second floor. Why couldn't you get something on one?" He pushed the chair into its spot in the living room and collapsed into it. "It didn't look that heavy until halfway up the stairs."

"I don't want something on the first floor," Beth replied breezily. "Headlights shining in. People walking by. No thanks. Besides, I don't have to do cardio if I have to go up and down those stairs all the time." She flopped placemats on her dining room table and smiled. Over the afternoon she and Glenn had unloaded her car and trailer and run out to pick up the assorted furniture pieces she needed. Her credit card had taken quite a hit, but Glenn had purchased her a nice sofa and chair set, saying it was a housewarming gift from him and Maggie.

Glenn looked around and nodded. "Not bad work for one day! I'll be sore as hell tomorrow, but at least it's all together." He stood up and stretched.

"Thank you, thank you," Beth sang, throwing her arms around Glenn. "I hope Maggie isn't too mad at you when you get home."

"She'll be fine," Glenn replied as he gave her a squeeze and released her. "I'm going to head back now, though, so I'm home by midnight. Gotta work at the restaurant in the A.M.. Give your sister a call. It might not seem like it, but she's really bummed about everything."

"I'm doing the right thing," Beth said quickly.

"You are," Glenn agreed. "I never liked Jimmy. He was sneaky from the start. I'm sorry. You deserved better. A fresh start will feel good." He lingered at the door for a moment. "Call if you need something, okay? I'll come down whenever you need me. I know it's just by marriage, but you're my little sister now."

Beth smiled and waved as Glenn pulled the door shut and went on his way. Now that she was alone, Beth took in the scale of what she'd done. She moved away from the only town she'd ever known for someplace she'd never been. A newspaper in town had hired her, so reporting and writing stories would be the only constant in her life. Instead of living with her dad and their farm hands, she'd be alone. Instead of having Jimmy and her high school friends on the front porch or at the bar every night, she'd have Skype and texting.

The thought of Jimmy made her angry, but not as angry as she knew she should be. Their engagement had been fine by her. It had given her direction in the year following her mother's death. Mom had liked Jimmy and mentioned that he seemed like a good boy to keep around. That comment had sealed the deal. When Jimmy proposed, Beth said yes without hesitation. Was he what she wanted? No, but he was the only man who she'd ever be certain had her mother's blessing, and that meant a lot.

Beth wandered to her bedroom and dug through a tupperware tote frantically. Where is it? Purses, shoes, and towels tumbled onto the floor as she dug. Finally, at the bottom of the tote, she found it: a framed picture of her mother when she was Beth's age. Beth gingerly placed the picture on her bedside table and sighed.

"We were engaged and he'd been cheating on me for months, Mom," Beth said aloud to the photograph. "I know you liked him, but I didn't. You'd be mad if I stayed with someone who wasn't treating me right. Daddy's not happy that I moved down here, but I had to get away, you know?" She took a deep breath and blinked back tears. "I'm being strong. That's what you'd want, right?" She smiled at the picture, already feeling better.

The rest of the night flew by as Beth unpacked and organized. Everything went well until a cast iron skillet slipped from her hands and landed with a loud crack! on the kitchen counter. Beth groaned and surveyed the damage. The counter was cracked and dented. She made a mental note to call maintenance and see if they could fix it tomorrow after work.