The Way Forward

He was tired of losing people, that's what he told her. After the tragic events at The Big Spot, and an innocent hug, Daryl is more than a little surprised when Beth seeks him out to secretly take her back to the Greene family farm for a precious family heirloom. Bound by a sense of duty, he hesitantly agrees, and when a heated exchange results in an unexpected passionate tryst, Daryl is forced to come to terms with this shifting friendship and the growing attraction he has to Beth Greene. Can they move forward past the mistake they made while isolated and emotionally vulnerable? Or would that be their biggest mistake of all? Bethyl Prison AU -takes place after the season 4 premier. Rated for eventual sexual situations and some language.

Chapter 1 - 7 Days Without an Incident

I don't cry anymore Daryl.

That's what she had said. It had been a week since he gone to Beth's cell to deliver the news that Zach hadn't made it. Seven days, and yet he still kept coming back to it, replaying it over and over in his mind, looping like a damn broken record. Wishin' there was something he coulda done differently ...just wishin' things were different.

Sure, he had known Zach ... hell, Daryl would even go so far as saying he had liked the kid, and he was saddened that they had lost another person - but Beth, she had cared for him on a deeper level. Maybe even loved the guy ... and yet, in a completely unselfish gesture, she had decided it was more important to comfort him, instead. Why? And that's what was still eatin' him up a week later ...that damn hug.

There was a vulnerability about Beth Greene and that hug. A quiet, unspoken softness that made Daryl feel comfortable enough for just a split second, to slip out from behind his mental armor. And in that moment of weakness, he had told her exactly how he felt. He was not okay. Not even a little. He was tired of losing people.

He was tired.

He let them down. Zach and Beth, and Zach had paid the ultimate price. Couldn't even put the poor kid outta his misery or stop him from becoming one of them.

Daryl gripped the handlebars of his bike tightly, trying to let the vibrations soothe him as they usually did when he rode. The times when he felt like he and his bike became one and the same, when the wind whipped at his hair and the scenery slipped by in a blur and he felt truly free. That was the feeling he craved, but today, that feeling eluded him.

As he sped by the sign warning that "hitchhiker's may be prisoners", his destination of home drawing closer with every mile marker, Daryl fought the urge to turn around and head back the way he'd came. Where he planned to go, he had no idea, but he was anxious lately and feeling very boxed in. Maybe taking a position on the council had been a bad idea? Maybe if he hadn't made the decision for Zach to tag along and help on the Big Spot run, then maybe he would still be alive? Maybe it was time for him to step down?

Maybe.

A little word with a lot of weight.

As he pulled up in front of the prison gates, revving his engine, Carol rushed to open them for him, and Daryl gunned his bike forward quickly, as a Walker staggered towards him. It stumbled, greedy hands outstretched for him, and fell headfirst onto one of the wooden spikes jutting out of the ground. One of Rick's brilliant ideas. Rick always knew what to do. It was Rick who belonged on the Council, not him.

But Rick had no interest in being a leader anymore. He spent most of his time tending to the garden and livestock they had finally gotten going. Rick was a fast learner and with Hershel's instruction, they were finally starting to see the fruits of their labor. In a few more months, they would probably no longer have to leave the prison for food at all - and then they'd need him a little less.

Slowly guiding his bike up the path and closer to the cell block fence, Daryl cut the engine and with practiced accuracy, kicked the kickstand down while climbing off, all in one fluid motion. Jerking the handkerchief down off of his face, he reached into the pocket of his tattered flannel shirt and tugged out his cigarettes, flipping the box open and stuffing one in his mouth, he dug into his pants pocket and fished out his Zippo lighter. Making a mental note to get more lighter fluid the next time he went out on a run, Daryl lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"Bring anything good back?" Carol asked, coming to stand beside him.

"You're lookin' at it," Daryl replied, waving the pack of cigarettes at her before dropping them back in his breast pocket. Patting his hand on the other pack that rested beneath it.

"Anything else?" She asked, with a disapproving scowl.

"Nope," Daryl replied, taking another drag of his cigarette. He was used to her matronly hovering, something he let slip because that's what Carol did when it came to him -she nurtured, she mothered. She was also probably the closest friend he'd ever had, aside from Rick and Glenn.

"C'mon Pookie, those things will kill you," she elbowed him playfully.

"Stop," Daryl grunted, elbowing her back. She knew he hated it when she called him that, and Carol was one of the few people he took shit from. "Anythin' happen while I was gone?"

"Michonne left, and then came back," Carol folded her arms over her chest and laughed. "I think maybe she took your suggestion to heart. Maybe she's decided to give up searching for the Governor, put down some roots here? She's seemed to have grown a soft spot for Carl."

"Good," Daryl nodded, taking another drag of his smoke and flicking the ashes off into the grass. "Assholes dead, anyway." At least he hoped, but he kept that part to himself.

Carol sighed, uncrossing her arms and took a few steps towards the cell block doors, "Well, it's almost story time. I'm gonna head down to the library and get things ready."

"Have fun," Daryl called after her, as she waved from behind the fence and disappeared behind the heavy doors.

Giving the prison yard a quick once over, and with everything appearing to be in order, Daryl dropped his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the toe of his boot, and then turned to head through the doors Carol had disappeared behind. Making a quick right and passing the lower level cells, he stomped up the stairs and all the way down the hallway to his own cell. It was a hell of a walk when he was tired, but he liked the solitude, liked the privacy it afforded him. After all, privacy was hard to come by in such close quarters.

Lifting the sheet that served doubly as a wall and a door, Daryl stepped inside, pulling the strap of his crossbow up over his shoulders and propping it against the wall, he gazed around his cell at his meager belongings. A desk scattered with match books and a couple of tools, a small figurine of a dragon he'd thought was cool and had grabbed on a run, and a rusty old tuna can that served as an ashtray on the occasion that he didn't feel like going outside to smoke at night. Home sweet home.

Daryl snorted, shrugging out of his leather vest and draping it over the back of his rickety chair that wobbled when he sat on it. Sadly, his pitiful little cell was probably the closest thing Daryl ever had to resembling a home in his thirty something years. At least, not since he was a kid, and he sure as fuck wasn't gonna go traipsing through those memories. It wasn't much, but this was his, and he didn't need much, anyway. All that really mattered to him were his bike, his wings and his bow - two of which he carried on his person at all times.

Of the countless runs he went on, it was the others he brought things back for. A comic book for Carl, a stuffed animal for Lil' Asskicker, a pretty scarf for Carol ... It was in doing things like that, that made him feel he had a purpose.

Dropping down on his cot, Daryl pillowed his head on his arm and stared up at the cracked ceiling, debating if he should try to take a brief nap before they rung the dinner bell, and quickly decided against it. His stomach growled at the thought of food, reminding Daryl of his neglectful eating habits of late. Tonight would be a treat, too. Venison, from the deer he had killed and dressed this morning, when he sought respite in the surrounding woods. Lately, it seemed as though he couldn't find enough reasons to stay within the safe perimeter of the prison. Seven days to be exact. Maybe he'd go hunting again tomorrow morning before the Council meeting. It wasn't like they couldn't use the food with all the new mouths they had to feed, taking in all those Woodbury refugees - because it was the right thing to do.

Daryl was unsure how long he laid there, staring up at the ceiling, but the sound of laughter echoing through the cell block broke him out of his trance. With a heavy sigh, he rolled himself up off of his cot and shrugged back into his vest. Ducking back under his thin cotton sheet doorway, Daryl made the long walk down the cell block, back down the stairs and while passing by the lower level cells, couldn't stop himself from glancing in Beth's cell on his way by.

She wasn't inside. He knew she wouldn't be. More than likely she was outside, taking Judith for her usual evening stroll along the grounds before dinner. Rick swore the fresh air before eating knocked Lil' Asskicker down for the count when it came to bedtime. Maybe it was a habit he needed to pick up. Maybe he could actually sleep then. Maybe.

As it was, Daryl couldn't remember the last time he'd slept straight through the night. Not even before the turn, when he was usually out carousing with Merle. Bar hopping and partying, or whatever the hell it was that Merle wanted to do that night. It was different then, though. Usually he was too drunk or stoned to put an intelligent thought together. That was no longer the case. Now he had nothing but time to think, and his thoughts of late had been very unsettling. And if he was lucky, and sleep got its claws in him ...well, then it was the dreams he had to contend with.

"Hey fleabag!" Michonne called, startling Daryl from his thoughts, as she fell into stride beside him.

"What do you want?" Daryl mumbled at her, feigning annoyance, but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Since when do I need a reason to bother your ugly ass?" Michonne said flashing her teeth at him with one of her dazzling smiles.

"Since never, obviously" Daryl snorted, doing his best to sound sullen. Truth was, he liked Michonne. She was easy to be around - not pushing idle chit chat. Usually.

"C'mon emo kid, cheer up," Michonne nudged him playfully with her elbow. "We all feel terrible about Zach-"

"It ain't even that," Daryl interrupted her. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was just one of many things rolling around in his head.

"Then what is it?" She asked, her large brown eyes turning serious. "Is it him? The Gov-"

"Don't even say his name," Daryl growled. "An' no. Just got a lot'a shit on my mind. So you plannin' on stickin' 'round for awhile?" He asked, cleverly shifting the topic.

"For awhile," Michonne nodded with a shrug as they rounded the corner of the cafeteria, which they'd cleaned out and started making use of recently.

With a light pat on his shoulder, she parted ways, moving to take up the empty seat beside Carl, nudging him with her elbow before he broke into an animated conversation about the current comic book he was reading. Daryl continued past them, taking up a chair in the far corner by the high barred windows where he always sat. Alone usually, and away from the crowd. From this spot, he had views of every exit and entrance and could be sure no one would sneak up on him, trapping him in a conversation he wasn't interested in having. Mostly, he just liked to observe everyone.

Slowly the people began to filter in and fill up the cafeteria. The Woodbury people were usually the first ones here. They ate quickly and then disappeared even quicker. The noise level rose to a hum, as more people took seats, chatting amongst themselves about whatever post apocalyptic gossip was worth waggin' their pie holes about. The kitchens double door swung open as Carol and a handful of Woodbury people came bearing large pots of whatever would serve as side dishes to his deer meat. A variety of vegetables, mostly out of cans they'd scavenged, and rice. It was always rice. They never seemed to run out of the shit.

Daryl sighed, slumping over in his chair and waited, like he always did, for everyone to go up and take their fill before serving himself. Something Carol chastised him for often. He always shrugged her off, saying that he just wanted all the 'guests' to have full bellies first, but truthfully he just hated all the attention he got from the Woodbury people. He knew they were just being kind, mostly just thanking' him for providing food and grabbing the things they needed when he went out on runs, but it always made him feel terribly uncomfortable. And one of them in particular, especially.

Lenore. Rumor had it she was sweet on him. Daryl had a feeling she was as sweet on him as she was sweet on just about anyone else. She was what Merle would call a "lot lizard" in their rambling days. The type of gal you took home with you at the end of the night if no one else was around ... if you took her home at all, and not just to the backseat of your car, or one of the bar's bathroom stalls.

It wasn't that she was unattractive. She was pretty enough with sleek raven hair and a plethora of tattoos covering her long lean body. Her body that she proudly put on display for all the men at the prison who had eyes enough to look. Daryl just wasn't interested in that. Never much had been, unless it was some drunken girl Merle was pushing on him, and he had to save face and not be a pussy.

Shaking his head to dislodge his thoughts, Daryl scanned the room, noting that Rick had joined his boy and Michonne, Lil' Ass Kicker on his lap, sucking away on the pacifier he'd brought back a few days ago, along with a colorful array of teething rings. He found it odd that she wasn't in Beth's arms like usual, then wondered why he cared enough to notice.

"You're the reason we're eatin' deer tonight," a familiar voice said from behind as a steaming hot plate was placed down in front of him. "You shouldn't be the last one enjoyin' it," Beth said earnestly. She threw a "thank you" over her shoulder as she walked towards Rick's table and laid the other plate she held in front of her father before jumping back in the food line.

Daryl wasted no time digging in to the delicious smelling venison, his hunger returning with a vengeance. In a matter of minutes he had cleared his plate ...even eating the rice he found so distasteful, and surprised to find that he had room for seconds. Carol was a damn good cook, and she was becoming very creative in the kitchen, making good use of the spices the Woodbury people had brought back with them.

Bringing his hands to his mouth, Daryl licked his fingers clean, not giving a shit about who was watching his poor table manners. He leaned forward and yanked his handkerchief out of the back pocket of his pants, and dragged it across his face before wiping the residual saliva from his fingers. Now all he had to do was wait until the cafeteria started emptying out, so he could slip away quietly.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Glenn's voice struggled to carry over the chattering of a few dozen people. A sharp pounding of the handle of a butter knife on the table brought the noise level down as Glenn cleared his throat and tried again. "Everyone quiet please! I have a really important announcement to make!"

As the room drew silent, all eyes focused on Glenn as he stood, holding a bottle of sparkling cider in each hand. "Well, it's not champagne," he said with a shrug and the tilt of his head, cracking a half smile. "But we have cause for celebration tonight. You all know my beautiful wife, Maggie," Glenn nodded his head in her direction, love and adoration shining in his eyes, as she blushed and smiled back up at him. "Well, if you all notice that she's been eating a little more lately, be kind," he paused to chuckle at his own inside joke before continuing, "because she's eating for two!"

The room erupted in cheers and applause, some people wandering over to slap Glenn and Hershel on the back, and congratulate Maggie who nodded politely, her cheeks rosy with happiness. Maybe pregnant women really did glow, Daryl mused as he watched, unable to keep from smiling, just a little, at the happy news. The Polaroid camera Glenn had grabbed previously at the Big Spot before the incident, suddenly made complete sense now.

Daryl assumed a proud father would want to catalog the memories of all their child's firsts, capture all those moments in time - unfortunately he didn't know that firsthand. His dad had never been proud of his offspring. Had never been interested in any of their firsts, neither.

Using everyone's excitement to his advantage, Daryl slipped out quickly and quietly, only feeling a slight twinge of guilt for leaving his dirty dishes behind on the table, and not offering his congratulations to the expecting couple. He'd apologize to them all later, right now he just needed to break away from the noise of the crowd, and Lenore's hungry eyes - before they found him.

Daryl took the stairs two at a time, rushing back to his room before anyone could notice he was missing, and dipped behind his faded floral sheet door. They'd talked before, him and Rick, about looting a lumber yard and bringing back some plywood to remedy the lack of privacy they all had. They just hadn't worked their way down to it yet, on the list of priorities that was always piling up faster than they could scratch things off.

Daryl sat down on his rickety chair, blowing out an aggravated breath when it rocked backwards. Another thing he kept intending to remedy, just didn't seem to care much until it was in his face again, reminding him. Maybe he'd get to it tomorrow, but right now he was itching to get back outside of the prison. He knew he could if he wanted to - hop on his bike and take off into the night, and no one would stop him. He felt better out there fighting and killing tangible monsters, rather than the ones he was constantly battling in his head.

Reaching for the block of bench stone on his desk, Daryl eased his knife out of its sheath at his waist and began sharpening it to kill time, listening for the tell-tale sounds that the prison was winding down for the night, now that it was becoming dark outside. As the light began seeping from the room, he reached down into his boot for his other knife, inspecting the blade as best he could without having to turn on his lantern, preferring if anyone who happened to pass by, thought he'd turned in early and kept on walking.

The blade still seemed pretty sharp, and he hadn't really used it anyway, so with a shrug, he tucked the ivory hilt back into his boot and stood. The prison was taking a bit longer to settle tonight, and with nothing else to do but stare into the darkness, Daryl quietly inched out of his cell, his feet barely making a sound as he made his way out of the block.

Once he'd made it to the corridor outside the cell blocks, Daryl rushed through the heavy door, pulling it quietly closed behind him, itching for the cool night air and the opportunity to be completely alone and shake that boxed in feeling that had been nipping at his heels all damn day. He'd already memorized every crack in his ceiling and if he had to stare up at his cell walls while he literally fought to sleep, he'd likely go insane. Maybe the fresh air would make him tired, help him fall asleep tonight and not dream for once. Maybe. And maybe he was just kidding himself.

He was halfway to the picnic tables when he saw her. Hunched over in the grass, her legs drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her knees, was Beth Greene. Curiosity tugging at him, he soundlessly moved forward, wondering why she was out here alone, after dark.

A strange thought occurred to him then - that maybe this was not the first time Beth had snuck out. Maybe she was accustomed to sneaking out for late night rendezvous with Zach, before he ... Daryl shook the thought from his head. Wasn't any of his damn business anyway, and neither was this. He was preparing to change directions when he saw her tiny frame shudder, his ears picking up the faintest sound of her muffled sobbing.

The girl who didn't cry anymore ...was crying.

Crying. Aww hell! Why was she crying? Her sister had just delivered news that would make any normal person happy. A new baby was on the way. A little Greene-Rhee bundle of joy - five and half months and counting.

Maybe she was still mourning Zach, hidden away from prying eyes. Maybe.

A pang of guilt tore through his gut and suddenly, Daryl felt like he was intruding. He had no right to be here, slinking around in the dark like some asshole peeping Tom, watching her cry. He turned to leave, as she pulled her head up, her body stiffening, as if sensing she was not alone, and tilted her face towards him.

Fuck.

"Oh, hey Daryl," Beth greeted him, her voice thick, heavy with emotion, although she tried to mask it. Quickly swiping the sleeve of her over-sized sweater across her eyes in an attempt to erase the evidence of her tears, she scooted over, making room for him to sit beside her, in a show of the good manners her family had instilled in her.

Double fuck.

"Hey," he all but grunted back. He hadn't wanted to make his presence known, intending to slip soundlessly back into the shadows and forget he even saw her here. He had enough shit on his mind, enough weight on his shoulders, but without realizing it, his feet had moved on their own, far faster than his brain or common sense could register and catch up. And now it was done.

Daryl dropped to the grass, immediately fishing in his vest pocket for his cigarettes, needing to do something to occupy his hands. Flipping open his Zippo lighter, he struck the wick and lit the end of his smoke, puffing until the cherry was a glowing red ember, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out of his nose. He came outside with the intention to smoke anyway, might as well get to it. Beth remained silent, continuing to stare up at the milky night sky. A soft breeze blew across the prison yard, twirling the loose tendrils of her hair against her cheeks, until she pushed them behind her ears, and swiped at the moisture on her face again.

"Dad know you're out here?" He asked finally, feeling like he should say something, his cigarette dangling between his lips. It was a shitty conversation starter, but he was shitty at starting conversations, so ...

"I'm not a child, Daryl. I go where I please," she replied, her tone the slightest bit indignant.

Well, that went well. Pinching his cigarette between his fingertips, Daryl took another drag, exhaling in a whoosh and flicking his ashes on the ground before replacing it to his lips. Locking her in his peripheral gaze, he studied her profile in the moonlight. The delicate slope of her nose, the proud tilt of her chin, her lips drawn in a grim line and the furrowed brow -the look of a young woman who'd seen way more than she should have at her tender age, and she was right ... Beth Greene wasn't a child anymore, and hadn't been for awhile. Truthfully, Daryl just hadn't noticed until recently. Maybe seven days ago, if he was being honest.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me." She shifted uncomfortably and he wondered if she was aware he was watching her.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head, forcing his eyes to look elsewhere and training them on the Walkers staggering outside of the gate. "S'okay. You're right. Ain't my business," he shrugged.

"No," Beth reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder momentarily. "I'm just touchy tonight. Overly sensitive, I guess."

Daryl's gaze flicked down to where her hand had just been, the warmth from her palm permeating through the thin fabric of his tattered flannel shirt, giving the impression that it was still there. "'Bout what?" He asked, the words just tumbling from his lips before it was too late to take them back. Fuck again. What the hell had gotten into him tonight? He really didn't want to know, but here he was, opening up his mouth again, as if his brain had taken a momentary hiatus.

"Glenn and Maggie," Beth spoke in a sigh, her voice barely audible. "The pregnancy."

Daryl scratched at the hair on his chin, taking another long drag from his cigarette. "Seemed like good news," he shrugged, flicking his spent butt into the grass a few feet away.

"It is," Beth agreed. "Sorta ..." She paused, grabbing a fistful of grass in her hand, as if she struggled with finding the right words to explain. "Just keep thinkin' about Lori and how all that went down. If somethin' were to happen to my sister-"

"Why ya even thinkin' like that?" Daryl interrupted her. "Circumstances were different, ain't even gonna be remotely the same."

"You don't know that," Beth shook her head, pulling the grass bunched in her hands out by the roots and tossing the clumps down in front of her.

"Neither do you," Daryl offered. "Between your Dad an' Carol, they ain't gonna let nothin' bad happen to Maggie. Shit, Glenn ain't gonna let her outta his sight."

"I want to be happy for them, I do," Beth insisted. "I just worry so much ..." she let her voice trail off for a moment. "We don't even know where the Governor is, or if he'll come back."

"He's gone," Daryl said with finality. He and Michonne had searched for him for months with no luck, and Michonne was still looking, refusing to give up. More than likely, he was dead, but if not ... "And if he ever comes back, I'll kill him," Daryl hissed, not bothering to hide the venom in his tone, as the painful memory of driving his blade into his brothers skull flashed before him.

Beth didn't reply. Daryl really hadn't expected her to. His anger was lost on her, beings he never talked about Merle to anyone. They all thought he was a piece of shit anyway, and maybe he was, but he was still his brother, his own flesh and blood. And Daryl missed him.

Beth shifted, pulling her knees tighter against her chest, her over-sized sweater slipping down and exposing the skin of her naked shoulder, the same way it had that night in her cell. Daryl felt a strange stirring in his gut, noting that it was the exact same sweater, and even stranger, why he had noticed. Clearing his throat, he turned his head, feeling inexplicably very awkward, as Beth pushed it back up her arm.

The silence was heavy as it stretched between them, and normally Daryl didn't mind the quiet, but tonight the air was suddenly wrought with tension, and it was unnerving. Suffocating, even. Not the peaceful zen he was seeking when he had stepped outside, intending to be alone. Fighting the urge to bolt, he reached into his pocket, fumbling for another cigarette, lighting it quickly and sucking the smoke down into his lungs, closing his eyes as he slowly blew it back out and willing his body to relax.

"You got an endless supply of those things, or somethin'?" Beth turned to ask him, looking directly into his eyes.

Her tone was playful, so Daryl bit back the usual smartass remark he reserved for when someone chastised him about his smoking, and shrugged instead. "Maybe." Then added, "helps me relax."

"Is it workin'?"

"Not really," Daryl admitted honestly, then immediately wished he could take it back as the awkward silence returned again.

She looked away then and Daryl quickly released the breath he'd been holding in. Why the hell was everything so awkward tonight? It wasn't like this was the first conversation he'd had with Beth. Casual banter between the two didn't happen frequently, but it had happened before, so what the hell was so different tonight?

You got her boyfriend killed, that's what. Dumbass.

Suddenly, the prospect of counting the cracks on his ceiling didn't seem so bad. Daryl frantically picked his brain for something, anything to talk about to squelch the terrible awkward silence, but he kept drawing a blank.

"I need paper," Beth said suddenly. "Can you help me with that?"

Seemed like such an odd thing to request out of nowhere, but Daryl was thankful for a topic of discussion. He nodded, "Sure. Next time I go out -"

"I wanna come with you," Beth interrupted him.

She gasped then, flinging her hand over her mouth, as if she had startled herself by blurting it out. "Please?" She pleaded softly then, lowering her hand back down to her lap as she turned the big blue orbs of her eyes back on him again.

Daryl leaned forward, clearing his throat and dropping his gaze to the grass. He knew damn well he couldn't look her in the eyes and tell her no. Not after ... "Yer Dad would never-"

"Please?" She asked more forcefully. Her voice was thick with emotion again. "Haven't you ever just needed to get out? To just get the hell away from everythin' for awhile? From everyone?"

All the damn time.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"And I can take care of my dad," she added as an afterthought. "Just tell me you'll at least think about it? Please?" She added again for good measure.

He was going to tell her no. Absolutely not, but, "I'll think on it," was what spilled out of his stupid fucking mouth.

She released a shuddering breath, and Daryl could physically see the tension that left her body on that little puff of oxygen. For reasons he couldn't quite begin to fathom, it eased up a bit on him too, and the awkwardness dissipated and then dissolved.

"Thanks for bringing me a plate," Daryl mumbled quietly, as he took another drag from the cigarette he suddenly remembered he was holding on to. Thinking, he probably shoulda thanked her earlier -like when she'd set it down in front of him.

Beth shrugged, like it wasn't no big deal, and Daryl figured to her it probably wasn't. Being kind, taking care of people, that shit came second nature to her. He observed it in the way she looked after Judith, practically raising another woman's child and thinking nothing of it. The careful way she tread lightly on the little torch everyone knew Carl was carrying for her. How she'd gone and ripped one leg shorter on all her Daddy's pants while everyone else was just standing around fearing the worst and waiting for him to die. Probably wasn't one drop of selfishness in her entire body.

"Thanks for bagging that doe," she countered, dragging him from his thoughts.

Daryl flicked his cigarette in the grass, leaning back on his elbows and feeling slightly more relaxed. "Couldn't go another day eatin' nothin' but that damn rice," he grunted.

Beth laughed, deep from her belly, a good hearty sound that danced around them in the air like a song. It tugged at the corners of his lips, as he titled his head to look at her.

"Better not let Carol hear that," she teased him, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes softening, as her smile ebbed. "But I'm sick of it too," her voice dropped an octave, as if it was a big secret.

Silence drifted over them again, but it no longer carried the stifling weight it held earlier. Daryl's eyes drifted up to the night sky, and Beth brushed her palm along the blades of grass at her sides, both of them content to sit and just be still for a bit.

It was Beth who broke the quiet this time, as she pulled herself up from the ground effortlessly, and swiped her hands along the back of her jeans, brushing off the debris from the ground. "I best be gettin' back inside, check in on Judy."

Daryl dragged himself up too, not nearly as gracefully as she'd done, and slung his crossbow over his shoulder, intending to walk her back. Figuring it was the gentlemanly thing to do, even if he wasn't exactly a gentleman, but her hand on his arm stayed him.

"it's okay, I know the way back," she said softly, giving his bicep a little squeeze. "Stay. Enjoy the night air."

Daryl could only nod at her, as she pulled away, her hand slithering off of his arm slow as snake. She'd only moved about ten paces before she turned back to thank him.

"For what?" He asked, fiddling with the strap of his crossbow.

"For making me feel better," she called over her shoulder as she headed back to the prison, ponytail swinging with each stride she took.

He watched her until the heavy metal door swung shut behind her, and she was safe inside the prison. Daryl sunk back down into the grass and lit another cigarette, trying to ignore the tingling sensation he still felt on his skin, and the warmth of her touch that lingered long after she'd gone.

A/N: Hello again my lovelies. Hope you're all in for a really sloooow burn, and if you are - you came to the right place! If you came here from my other fic, From the Ashes, I have some explaining to do .. FTA was never supposed to be the multi-chapter fic it morphed in to. When I started it, I had only intended for it to be a smutty tree sex one shot, but then I became obsessed with bringing them to that point, and it morphed into a short story, which was met with such good reception, it just kind of snowballed from there. The point to my insanely chunky run-on sentence above? I didn't actually write FTA in a true slow burn fashion (because c'mon, no matter how HOT chapter 7 was, it would have never escalated that quickly). So this is my reset, in the form of a new story, and why not? Everything gets a return. ;)