Archive of Our Own

"Remember, an easy question can have an easy answer. But a hard question must have a hard answer. And for the hardest questions of all, there may be no answer - except faith."

~ Charles Sheffield , Brother to Dragons

The sun was just beginning to rise when Beth woke, shining a pale light through the cracks of the old shack. Well shack was really too nice of word for this place; a lean-to Daryl called it. Speaking of, she rolls her head to the side craning her neck and there he is, standing just outside scanning the surrounding woods, crossbow in hand. She wondered if he'd slept at all. He never seems to anymore, not since the close call at the funeral home.

He turns to her even though she hadn't made a sound. "Can't stay here any longer. Gotta move on." Beth sighs and pushes herself up, gathering her knife and plucking the leaves from her hair. "Same shit, different day.

**********

They're making their way through the wooded area that runs parallel to the rails she discovered a few days ago. Or maybe it was over a week ago? Beth's losing track of time nowadays. It was difficult to keep up with before the prison, but its impossible now. It all blurs together for her. How long has her Daddy been gone? A month? She wonders how much has Judith changed in a month? How long has Rick's hair gotten? Her brain is full of ridiculous questions.

"Hey." She stops and turns to Daryl who's a few feet behind her. "You're wandering" he accuses. "Focus. Need a squirrel or somethin'."

Beth rolls her eyes and turns to fully face him. "Why don't you come take over then if I'm doin' such a piss poor job?"

"Told you, Greene. You need to learn it. Ain't always gonna have another to help you out. Gotta do things for yourself."

"Well I'm tryin'. Used to be, I just had to head to the Dairy Queen when I was hungry so there's a steep learnin' curve for me." She gives him her best smile. "Can't you just track today? I'll do it tomorrow, scout's honor."

He shakes his head, using the bow to gesture behind her in the direction they'd been heading. "Nope, it's gotta be you."

She turns to go the way he indicated. "Where we headed?"

"No idea." She rolls her eyes again but doesn't feel bad about it since he can't see it anyway.

"Hey, Daryl. What was the name of your elementary school?" Daryl never answers, but Beth's not surprised.

**********

That night, after eating the squirrel they'd finally caught, Beth sits beside the dying fire, arms wrapped around her knees. She's rocking back and forth, but she doesn't realize she's humming until he points it out.

"Put that fire out. And stop singing or every walker in a mile radius will be headin' this way."

She glares at him as she kicks some dirt on the fire, smothering it and plunging the surroundings into darkness. She looks over to where Daryl is propped up against a large tree, crossbow across his legs, staring out like he can see for miles.

"How much further, do you think?" Daryl doesn't even turn towards her. Just shrugs his shoulders in response.

"We just gonna waltz right in and introduce ourselves?"

That gets his attention. He turns to look at her, eyes narrowed. "That what you think should happen? Just go right on in?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you best be figurin' it out, girl."

Beth turns to rest her cheek on her pulled up knees, facing away from him. She doesn't like this Daryl. This is the old Daryl and she misses the new Daryl. The Daryl who burned down a house with her and carried her to breakfast.

She can't remember where she lost him; she just knows he's not here.

**********

When Beth wakes up the next day, the sun is already past the peak. It happens now; sometimes she sleeps for hours and hours, sometimes not at all. She doesn't see Daryl, so she assumes he's already out hunting. She goes and takes care of business before opening the ratty backpack she had found, pulling out a hot pink hairbrush. She's still trying to get a huge knot of hair untangled around a twig she's probably had in there for ages, when he is suddenly behind her.

"Ain't got time for primpin' princess. Losing daylight as it is." She drops her hair, twig and all and gathers her stuff. She wants to ask him why he let her sleep so long if he was worried about making time, but she doesn't. She just stands and heads in the way they need to go, Daryl following close behind. It's weird, how she can always tell which direction he wants her to head in without him saying a word. She supposes she is getting better at tracking and navigating. Second star to the right and straight on till morning.

"Did you ever read Peter and Wendy when you were a kid?"

**********

The sun is almost setting when they happen upon an abandoned car parked beside an old barn. "Can we just stop here for the night? I'm so tired, Daryl."

Daryl stares at her for a moment like he's weighing her words before nodding. Beth heads straight for the car and sprawls along the back seat. Daryl is sitting in the front seat, ever present crossbow and he turns to face her.

"Just get some rest. Tomorrow'll be better."

She doesn't believe him but she lets it go. Her eyes are already closing anyway. "Daryl, what's your middle name?" She never hears a response before sleep pulls her under. She's not surprised; old Daryl never answers her questions.

**********

She wakes the next morning to Daryl leaned over the seat above her. "Come on, Greene. Gotta find some water; that'll make you feel better." She can't remember when she drank the last of the water; was it yesterday? The day before?

She pulls herself up and reaches forward to open the door. She can see old, dried blood all over her jeans and shirt but she can’t remember where it came from. In the beginning she had tried to ask Daryl, but as usual he didn't answer. She knows she should be more worried about things like that, the water, the blood, the fact that she can't remember. It's too exhausting to worry about that right now though.

She follows Daryl along a path away from the car, back down a hill and they end up at a small stream. She immediately hits her knees beside it, dunking her face is the cool running water. She cups her hands and drinks her fill for a few minutes before removing the bottles from her bag and filling those. When she's done she turns to look for Daryl, only to find him standing in the middle of the creek a few feet down from her.

"It's alright. Water ain't movin' too fast and it ain't very deep. Need to wash off." She follows his lead and wades in and spends several minutes cleaning up as best she can. When she's done, she does feel a lot better, clearer. She thinks about asking Daryl about the blood again. Maybe about the time between leaving the funeral home and following the tracks to the supposed sanctuary like they're doing now. It's all kind of a blur for her, snatches of memory like pictures in a photo album.

When she looks up, Daryl is staring at her and the worry on his face is easy to read. He's obviously concerned about her already, so she decides not to bring it up again. She goes back to splashing the water around her, just luxuriating in the feel of it. "How old are you anyway, Mr. Dixon?"

Daryl just smirks at her.

**********

Daryl thinks they aren't that far from this Terminus place by now. Maybe two days out, he tells her. They aren't sticking to the tracks like she imagines some people would, but they usually check at least once a day to make sure they are still going the right way before heading back into the woods for better cover.

They’ve already set up camp for the night and Beth is leaning up against a huge tree trunk, backpack behind her head when she hears their alarm rattle. Her eyes fly open and she pulls her knife from her hip. She's not sure if she had fallen asleep or not, but Daryl is no where to be seen. She cautiously heads toward the noise of the alarm, which now has walker moans thrown in for good measure. She peeks around a tree to see a walker caught up in the twine and tin cans, with two behind it.

She ignores the tangled one for now and heads around the tree in the opposite direction. She kicks the first walker square in the torso and it stumbles, hitting the ground. That gives her enough time to plunge her knife in the temple of walker number three. She turns back to the walker making it's way up from the ground, but she just kicks it again in the back this time, before stabbing that one as well.

She's shaking and out of breath, but she turns back to the walker who is tangled in their alarm. She makes her way behind him, staying out of the way of grabbing hands and dispenses with that one as well. She's just getting back to her tree and backpack, when she sees Daryl hurry in from the opposite direction, bow nocked. "What the hell, Daryl?"

His eyes scan over her, looking for bites or other injuries before he lowers the bow. "Looks like you did alright for yourself."

"Alright?! Where were you? I needed you and you weren't there! I was all by myself!" She can feel her eyes welling up and she doesn’t want him to see so she turns back to her tree, dropping down to lean back against the trunk with her eyes closed, hugging her backpack to her.

Quietly from across the little camp she hears Daryl's response. "I need you too."

**********

Its sometime mid-afternoon the next day when Beth notices a small plume of smoke in the distance. It's pretty far out, away from the tracks they've been running along side. Daryl notices when she stops and follows her gaze. "What do you think? Could be somebody nice, with actual food and some idea about this sanctuary."

He turns to meet her eyes. "Yeah, could be. Could be a trap."

"Could be some of our people."

He sighs. "Ain't gonna bother agruin' with you about it. But we gotta be smart. Can't get there before the sun goes down. I say we get close tonight and check it out at first light."

Beth is dying to know who it is and what they know. But she can hear her Momma's voice in her head reminding her that curiosity killed the cat and she knows that Daryl is right. "Agreed. We'll check it out in the morning."

They make their way toward the smoke and set up camp what Daryl thinks is just shy of a quarter mile away. They can't risk a fire this close to others, so they just sit in the dark, listening to woods. After a bit of comfortable silence, Daryl turns to Beth. "Go on and get some sleep. Gotta be up early."

"Don’t know that I could, being excited and all. Do you think it really could be some of ours?"

He scoffs. "Hope none of our people'd be idiot enough to light a fire in broad daylight."

She moves her backpack behind her and tries to get comfortable, hoping to get some sleep. "Maybe they'll have running water there."

Daryl just grunts. "Doubt it."

"Or some clothes. Maybe a Dairy Queen."

**********

Beth continues the game the next morning as they make their way towards the camp. "Maybe they'll have washing machines and cable. Or an Icee machine."

They've seen two snares along the way, the very same kind Daryl taught her how to make. Beth can feel the hope bubbling up in her chest. They inch their way toward the small clearing, where they can hear some quiet voices. Beth leans forward and peers through the trees, spotting a brown haired boy in a sheriff's hat.

She turns to look at Daryl and excitedly whispers "It's Carl! Maybe Judith's there!"

Daryl hums in agreement. "Maybe Maggie too."

Beth stares at Daryl for a few seconds and whispers "Maybe you'll be there."

"Maybe." His gaze never wavers. "Go on now. Get back to your family."

She turns again to look through the trees and when she turns back, Daryl is gone. Beth takes a deep breath and moves forward the last few steps. Carl is the first to see her and before she knows what's happening, she's surrounded by people. Everyone is hugging her and asking questions and she can't be sure who is here and who is not, she's so turned around.

Suddenly he's beside her, looking unsure and awkward. He looks a little different than her Daryl, his hair is a little longer and he looks like he's been in a fight. She grabs him up in a hug just like the she had the rest. But this one she holds onto a little longer. She knows they all have questions for her, same as she has for them. But for some reason, one is more pressing to her than all the rest.

Without letting him go, Beth whispers. "So Mr. Dixon, I been wonderin' something. What's your middle name?"