Chapter Text
Daryl burst out of the funeral home, crossbow in his hand, his chest heaving like he had just run a marathon. He made his way through the graveyard, dodging a couple of walkers as he sprinted toward the road where Beth was supposed to be. His eyes darted around with frantic energy and his pulse pounded so loud in his ears, it nearly drowned out all the ugly snarls and growls from the herd behind him.
Where was she? Did she make it out?
He had opened that door without thinking, without checking first, assuming that it was just that damn dog again. He had been too caught up in his own head, too busy trying to escape the awkward tension at the table. All because he couldn't get himself to admit that she made him believe that there were still good people left in the world. You. You changed my mind.
And now a whole damn horde was inside their home, and it was his fault. If she didn’t make it out, if she got bit, that was on him.
You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon.
Hell yeah, he would. More than that. The thought of losing her made him wanna crawl out of his skin, made his heart twist, and pushed the breath right out of his lungs. Why was she stupid enough to even trust him in the first place? She should've known he was going to fuck it all up eventually.
Fuckin' dumb, good-for-nothin' piece of white trash.
A group of walkers stumbled out from the bushes, their milky eyes locking onto him. Daryl raised his crossbow, aimed with practiced precision, and sent an arrow through the skull of the closest one. No time to reload. He tossed the crossbow aside, shifted his stance, drew his knife, and plunged the blade into the soft, decayed skull of the next walker. Another one lunged at him, and he kicked it hard in the knee, the brittle joint snapping as it crumbled to the ground. Before he could finish it off, two more walkers closed in, their rotten stench filling his lungs. He spun around, driving his knife deep into the temple of one, but the other grabbed his shoulder, its snapping teeth only inches away from his skin.
Couldn't save ya mama, or your brother, couldn't save nobody at the prison either, couldn't save the girl, and now ya can't even save ya own ass, huh, boy? Fuckin' deserve to be ripped apart then, that'll teach you a good leasson.
“Daryl!”
Her voice broke through the chaos, sharp and desperate, and in the blink of an eye, she was there. She grabbed the walker by its matted hair, yanking it back just as its teeth came dangerously close to Daryl’s throat. Before it could recover, her knife drove into the side of its head with a loud crunch. It went limp, slumping against Daryl before he shoved it off and turned to her, his chest heaving.
“Beth!” His heart jumped at the sight of her and relief flooded through him. There she was, right in front of him, covered in blood, her blond hair slipping loose from its ponytail, stray strands clinging to her sweaty forehead and neck. Alive. She was alive.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her big blue eyes sparkeling in the moonlight as she scanned him for injuries.
“Yeah,“ he panted, as he slid his knife back into its sheath, snatched his crossbow of the ground and reached for her hand, threading their fingers together.
“C'mon, we gotta go.” he said, his voice tense as the snarls behind them grew louder with each passing second.
Beth nodded, her wide eyes scanning their surroundings for a way out. Together, they ran down the street, past another group of walkers, and into the dark woods, leaving the growling herd behind.
When their lungs burned and their legs threatened to give out, they slowed to a walk. The only sounds were their heavy breaths and the crunch of dead leaves and twigs beneath their boots. The night sky was dimly lilluminated by the pale half-moon, its glow veiled by heavy, dark clouds. A chill crept through Daryl's whole body as the first raindrops fell on him, quickly building into a cold, relentless downpour.
*
The sun had risen hours ago, but the rain still hammered down, soaking them through and stealing whatever comfort they had left. Their clothes clung to their skin, heavy and useless against the cold. Beth's muscles were stiff and aching from exhaustion, her hands pruney from the constant wet. Her injured ankle throbbed with every step, but she forced herself to ignore it and push through. Jaw clenched to keep her teeth from chattering, she scanned the woods for anything, any place they could hunker down and make it through the coming night.
She let her thumb brush over the delicate scar on her wrist, and a small smile tugged at her lips. That scar was a quiet, but constant reminder of the moment she chose life, the moment she chose not to cut any deeper. Walking in the heavy rain next to Daryl, both of them soaked to the bone, completely exhausted and shivering, she realized just how right that choice had been. Despite everything, she was grateful to still be here. She wanted to survive, wanted to live, not just for herself, but to honor the family she’d lost. She wanted to be brave like Shawn had been, strong and unapologetic like Maggie had—
No.
She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking off the thought before it could settle. She refused to think about Maggie like she was dead.
If she and Daryl had made it out, then there was still a good chance that Maggie was alive too. Maybe Glenn was with her. Maybe Rick, Carl, Lizzie and Mika had gotten out somehow. Maybe, there was still a small chance that Judith wasn't...
Or maybe it was just her stupid wishful thinking again.
It was a fine line, she realized, between not giving up hope and being delusional.
Beth’s eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden among the trees. A small, weathered cabin perched awkwardly on long stilts, half-swallowed by the thick foliage. It looked like an old deer stand, or lookout post, forgotten and left to decay. A narrow, fenced-in platform jutted out before the door, and a wooden ladder leaned against it, its steps crooked and splintered, as if daring anyone to climb it.
She squinted through the rain, brushing her wet hair out of her eyes.
“Daryl, look.” She pointed toward the deer stand. “Think we can get up there?”
Daryl looked the rickety thing up and down, water dripping from his hair and running down his face like tiny rivers as he seemed to consider her question.
“Ain’t got much of a choice,” he said finally. He shifted his crossbow onto his shoulder and moved toward the ladder, testing the first step with his boot. The wood creaked and bowed slightly, but it held.
“Stay here. Don’t climb ’til I say.”
Beth’s hand shot out, grabbing his forearm before he could start climbing.
“I’ll do it.”
Daryl didn’t even look at her when he pulled his arm free and reached for the ladder again.
“No, you ain’t.”
She grabbed his arm again, this time with a firmer grip, her fingers digging into his jacket sleeve.
“Daryl, stop!” Her voice was sharper now, cutting through the relentless drum of the rain. . “It’s stupid. I’m lighter, I should go first. Makes more sense”
He turned to look at her then, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah? And what if it don’t hold?”
“I’ll be careful,” she said, her voice a little softer now. “Let me do this.”
Daryl held her gaze for a long second, water dripping from his lashes. Finally, he huffed through his nose and stepped back, his expression unreadable.
Beth reached for the ladder, her hands trembling from the cold as they grasped the slick, rain-soaked wood. Each step bent under her weight as she climbed higher, the ladder swaying slightly with each movement. She kept her eyes fixed on the platform above, and when she reached the top, she hauled herself over the edge and looked down at Daryl below.
“Made it.“ she called down. “Your turn“
Beth watched him as he climbed up, his movements quick and sure. The ladder creaked under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He slipped the crossbow off his back and handed it to her before turning his attention to the cabin door. The wood, swollen and saturated from the rain, resisted stubbornly, and he had to put in extra effort to pry it open.
The old cabin was tiny but surprisingly dry, with nothing inside except a small, worn trunk bench. Beth knelt down and opened it, revealing an army-green blanket made of thick wool. Beneath it, she found a backpack, a box of rifle ammunition, a pair of binoculars, and a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter, which she immediately slipped into her pocket.
Daryl stood motionless for a moment, water dripping from his clothes and hair onto the wooden floor. Without a word, he took the crossbow from her and hung it on a rusty nail above the bench, creating more room for them to maneuver in the cramped space. Beth could feel him shivering beside her. She sat down on the floor, her back pressed against the wooden boards, and wrapped the blanket around herself. After a moment, she lifted the blanket and patted the space next to her.
"C'mon," she said softly. "You’re freezin', too."
Daryl hesitated, his eyes darting towards the door as if debating whether he should take watch instead, then back to Beth. She patted the wooden floor again, inviting him once more.
“M'fine,“ Daryl muttered stubbornly, but he finally crouched down next to her. Beth shifted the blanket, placing it over him too as he settled against the wall beside her. His body was tense at first, but after a few moments, the cold seemed to win out, and he eased into the shared warmth.
Beth pulled the pack of cigarettes and the lighter from her pocket. "Found somethin' else in there," she murmured, holding them out to him.
Daryl looked at the cigarettes, then at her, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "Didn't take you for a smoker."
"I’m not," she said with a small laugh, thumbing the edge of the pack. "Figured you might want one."
He hesitated, then reached out, taking the pack from her hand. “Haven't had one in... hell, don't even remember," he muttered, pulling a cigarette free and lighting it with practiced ease. He took a long drag, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, before turning his head slightly away from her to breathe it back out. The hit of nicotine seemed to calm his nerves, and after a moment, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. Beth relaxed against him, her head settling on his chest.
“Can I try it?” she asked, her tone casual but curious.
“What?” Daryl glanced down at her, seemingly surprised.
“Just one drag,” she said, nodding toward the cigarette in his hand. “I just wanna see what it’s like.”
“First you wanna start drinkin’, now you wanna start smokin’ too? Didn't your dad teach ya all 'bout the dangers of cigarettes an' lung cancer?“
Beth grinned, unfazed. “He sure did. But that was before dead people started walkin’ around, tryin’ to rip your face off.” She chuckled, and brushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “If I’m gettin' old enough for lung cancer, well... then I'm one of the real lucky ones.”
Daryl shook his head slightly as he held the cigarette out to her. “Fine. But don’t go blamin’ me when you choke on it.”
She took it carefully from his fingers, raised it to her lips and drew in a shallow breath. The bitter smoke hit her throat instantly, hot and acrid, making her eyes burn and water. She pressed a hand to her collarbone, struggling to suppress a cough.
Daryl chuckled a little, the sound rough but warm. “Told ya.”
“That's awful,“ she croaked, shaking her head and blinking back the tears “What do you like about this?”
“I dunno” He shrugged. “Ya get used to it. Guess it just... makes stuff feel a little better. For a while, anyway.”
Beth frowned, eyeing the cigarette in her handwith wary curiosity, before taking another, much deeper drag from it. The smoke invated her mouth, throat and lungs, thick and overwhelming. It burned worse than before, — and then a lightness rushed to her head, leaving her momentarily dizzy, like she was rising too quickly after sitting down. A strange warmth spread through her veins, radiating through her whole body in a way that felt... oddly soothing, though her heart was definitely beating faster than before.
“Alright girl,“ Daryl said, amused but cautious, and plucked the cigarette from her fingers before she could go for a third attempt. “that's enough for now.“
She exhaled slowly, her gaze following the faint curl of smoke as it disappeared into the cabin. Her voice was soft, thoughtful. “I think I get it.”
Daryl leaned back, the cigarette glowing faintly as he took another drag, his arm still resting around her shoulders, steady and grounding. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.“Yeah? What’d ya get?”
Beth tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze. “How it makes stuff feel better.”
Daryl was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering to the crossbow on the wall. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “Ain’t always a good thing, ya know. Easin’ stuff away like that…“
She leaned back against his chest, letting his warmth and strength seep into her soul. “I’m not trying to forget,” she said. “I’m just… trying to figure out how to deal with it all.”
For a while, the only sounds that filled the cabin were the steady drumming of the downpour on the roof and the whispering wind that swept through the trees outside.
“How do you do it?” She whispered.
Daryl looked at her, brow furrowing. “Do what?” He asked, his voice almost as quiet as hers.
“Keep going. After everything you’ve been through. After everything we've lost…”
He sighed, and his thumb began to trace slow, gentle circles on her arm. “Ain’t no secret to it. You just... keep puttin’ one foot ’n front of the other. Don’t think too much about where you’re goin’.”
He took one last drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly before stubbing it out against the wooden floor.
“Don’t have it all figured out. Hell, half the time, I don’t even know why I bother. Maybe I wouldn't if I was on my own.“
Beth’s heart ached at his words. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I'm glad you're not on your own, Daryl. I'm glad we have each other.“
The smell of their wet hair and body odor, the taste of tabacco on her tongue, the warmth between them, and the steady rhythm of the rain on the roof made everything else feel distant — like they were the only two people left in the world. As the sun went down, they both fell asleep.