Calm Before the Storm

Romance had never really been on the cards for Daryl. Even before things went to shit, he kept to himself. It wasn't like he lived in a community that even let relationships thrive very well. He'd never found someone he was willing to open up with either. Now that the world had come to a supposed end, he still kept it all close to his chest. None of it mattered anymore, so why would he have to tell people? It was no one's business. But Beth... There was something about her that made him let his front down just a little bit more. He didn't need to be so guarded around her. She never pushed him for anything more than a small talk every now and again. She even seemed good at reading him sometimes. It made a nice change to some of the newcomers who liked to crowd him to say 'thanks' or ask him questions. He just wanted his quiet. So he respected Beth for that, in his own silent way.

He'd noticed she'd grown smaller. They all had. With winter being harsh and the rations spreading even thinner across the prison, it was hard to maintain any weight. But it showed on Beth. She'd always seemed to fragile, in body and mind. She was surviving, and Daryl knew it. It didn't stop some strange sense of worry working up inside him, though. He'd take smaller portions at dinner, telling himself they'd go to someone who needed it more; like Beth. He was used to going without, or even fending for himself at the prison. A lot of people turned their noses up at the things he killed, even now. He'd let them have their quarter tin of beans and rice. Didn't bother him.

He traipsed along behind Beth, hoping to himself that no one would stop him for a brief hello or something else. If he was with other people, they tended to leave him alone. It seemed backwards to him. Surely if he was with other people then he wanted to talk. If he was by himself, he wanted to be just that. By himself. The newbies just needed to learn how he worked. For now, he was perfectly fine being guarded by someone like Carol, or Beth. At least then he had an excuse not to talk to anyone. It was the same with anyone part of the original family. They knew when to leave Daryl alone, even if they were spending time together. They knew when he didn't feel like talking.

[Up to you I'll just go along with whatever, really!]

@ bucky.
Beth was ridiculously conscious of how the long walk across the yard was from the gates to the cell block. She didn't mind at all, it was just that her muscles were tender most days. Carrying a baby on your hip for most of your day, and walking around and doing other jobs while watching her, was a serious strain on her legs. It was a good pain, though. She could feel her muscles getting bigger and stronger every day, especially when she finally was off her feet for a little while.

Beth slowed her steps while walking up the hill, about half way to the cell block. She was tired of feeling Daryl's eyes on the back of her, watching out for her. Kept shuffling slowly until Daryl caught up to her, and she flashed him a grin and started at his pace. "Feels silly havin' you walk behind me when I could use some real company," she teased, gently elbowing his forearm, and then realizing she wasn't helping him at all with his bags. She quickly grabbed a bag, slowing down once again to take it out of his hands before he could grunt at her. "Don't hav'ta be so stubborn, coulda asked for my help." The supply bag was much heavier than Judith, and she wondered what the heck was in there, but didn't ask. She figured his response would be "nothin," or "shit." Or a grunt.

She made a little groan while she adjusted the bag in her arms. Daryl was more than capable of carrying a few bags across these few acres. She just wanted to do something nice for him, her silent way of reminding him that she was thankful for everything he did, and hoping that he knew that he could rely on her, too.

The few groups of community members that were outside gave side-eyed glances towards Beth and Daryl. When she caught someones eye, she smiled at them. Most people in the community respected Daryl, but obviously his body language kept them away. That's why it surprised Beth when a young man from Woodbury, two years older than Beth, gazed at her from his other friends and jogged over to the pair. "Bethy, let me carry that. You shouldn't have to do that, let me take care of ya." His name was Jonny. He had a big cross on his forearm that made daddy think he was a good christian, but Beth knew his type. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him and tried to keep the frustration out of her voice when she said, "I'm perfectly capable of doin' this on my own."

[Ok! respond however you like, if you want you can add a time jump to a few weeks after everyone is sick and dying and we'll take it from there! Or I can. Either or. )

As Beth took the bag from him, Daryl almost fought her on it. It wasn't the first time he'd lugged supplies up the hill by himself. It was just one of his jobs... But it clicked with him that Beth probably just wanted to feel helpful. She did a lot for the prison, what with keeping the little one safe. Sometimes it must have felt like she was only helping out Rick. Daryl understood her frustration. He held onto the bag hesitantly for a moment before letting her take it.

"Fine," He grumbled, walking alongside her. "Don't start whinin' if you pull a muscle."

Daryl had more faith in her than that, but it didn't mean he was going to show it. He had a strong sense of respect for the Greene family. The three of them had moved on quickly and become valuable members of the group. Hershel was helping Rick move on and come back, whilst Maggie worked hard at helping on supply runs. Beth may have been trying to find her feet, but she'd get there eventually. He knew not to doubt her too much. It had even thrown him through a loop when he'd told her about Zach, how she'd leapt to comfort him rather than thinking about her own feelings.

But he still didn't know how to navigate her. He never really knew what to say. It seemed stupid to admit that he felt some sort of inexplicable connection to her. Hell, he wasn't even sure what those feelings were, besides odd pangs of respect and concern.

Her little grunt caught his attention, and he almost reached out to take the bag off of her again. Despite his apparent lack of caring, he didn't want to undermine her. He kept a close eye on her as she adjusted the bag, quietly ensuring she wasn't struggling too badly. She was young but capable of taking care of herself. A bag was never going to be too big of a struggle for her. One day she'd end up doing these runs herself, and carrying heavy loads to and from the prison. It was just practice.

As Jonny approached them, Daryl ignored him and continued on towards the prison. It was only when the younger boy stopped to talk to Beth that Daryl came to a pause. He looked back, watching him carefully. Clearly not everyone had gotten the message that Beth was capable of more than singing and looking after Judith.

"She got it," Daryl stated, staring pointedly at Jonny. "Only thing slowin' her down is you."

[ I really wanted Daryl to react to Jonny, sorry.]

@ bucky.
Beth almost snorted at the look on Jonny's face after Daryl spoke down to him. Jonny was scared of Daryl, or at least knew that it was in his best interest to stay on his good side. "C'mon, Mr. Dixon," she giggled, picking up her pace and leaving Jonny in the dust.

Time skip: two weeks after infection.

Beth kissed Judith's forehead as she walked away from the cell block her daddy was in, taking care of people. She was ashamed of herself for cryin' so hard when she talked to her dad and he told her of how many people had succumb to the illness. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she sniffed and wiped her nose with her free hand as she walked back to cell block B. We all got jobs to do, she reminded herself. Hers was taking care of Judith and helping the other ladies out.

Rick noticed Beth's return and walked up to her with concern on her face. She knew it was obvious she had been cryin' and she was embarrassed for her family to see her like this. She didn't cry anymore. She didn't cry when either of her boyfriends died in the past year. Death was so common these days, she didn't have it in her to cry. She was so overwhelmed by the fact that during this goddamn zombie outbreak, a flu is what is killing off more than one-third of her community.

Rick carefully took Judith from her arms, and spoke softly. "Beth, is everythang alright?" Beth held her head high, trying to keep her dignitiy and nodded. "Just a lil overwhelmed is all. I'll be in my cell if you need me," she told him before quietly saying "Thank you, Rick."

And with that, she went and sat on her bed and her sleeves to dry her still damp face. She sat there for a long time, counting to one hundred and eventually doodling in her journal, when heard a large vehicle approaching. There isn't anyone gone on runs, she thought, and stepped out of her cell. Apparently everyone had the same idea she had, because they were running out to the gate. Her stomach tied into painful knots as she ran outside after them.

The weeks during the infection were tough. Daryl spent most of his days with a bandana wrapped around his face, wrapping up bodies in old bedsheets and dragging them away to be 'disposed' of. It was horrific work, not only in the burning sun. Every time Rick would give him a small nod and tell him there was another one, he struggled to get himself together before getting back to work. Daryl wasn't a praying man, but every time he just had to hope it wasn't Glenn or even Beth. He hadn't seen either of them for a while; Glenn was in the sick area, and Beth had been in quarantine with Judith. It was wrong of him to hope that they hadn't died instead of someone else, and he knew it... It didn't change the way he felt about it.

When everything seemed to settle more, he was relieved. Bodies that needed dragging out into the yard began to dwindle. He wasn't sure if that was because people were getting better, or because the infection was getting the better of them. He spent some time lying awake at night, wondering how long it would be before it got to him -- if it got to him... And if it was going to take them all out. Some nights his mind wandered to Patrick, the first kid to get sick... Then Beth. He passed her cell a few times, noticing how dull it seemed to be without her in it. He would hope every time he walked past it that it would be the day that he'd see her again, lying in her bunk and writing.

The first day Beth was out of quarantine, he had wanted to say something to her. He wanted to ask her if she was okay and tell her that he was glad she was out, that she was safe. Daryl had stopped by her cell one night, intending to talk to her. It was quiet and easy to hear her stifling her tears when she thought no one was around. He didn't know why he didn't continue on to talk to her. She had comforted him before. But he just didn't know what to do. He turned and left that night, deciding to give her her time to mourn. They all needed time to recover.

He was talking to Rick when the prison began to shake, arguing about whether or not it was right to send Carol away. His fury was put aside quickly as they both made the run out into the courtyard. Daryl had been so certain that the prison was going to be their permanent home now, that it was a chance for them to start again. The tank staring from outside the fence was a reminder of how dangerous it was to become so idealistic.

double triple oh god

double :x

@ bucky.
Beth made it to the fence, and to her horror, saw her daddy and Michonne on there knees in front of the tank. With a man in an eyepatch, who she could only imagine was the Governor from Woodberry. She stood by the fence, tears falling down her face as she grabbed the wire and stared at her father. It seemed like a lifetime of Rick and the Governor yelling to each other, Rich trying to negotiate, that they could all live together- the sound of everything around Beth started to disappear, and all she heard was white noise as she watched her fathers neck get hacked into with a katana. Again, and again until it was off. Maggie must have thrown her a gun, because she was screaming and crying and shooting at the invaders. The tank was suddenly in motion, and an explosion erupted behind her as the tank began to fire at the prison.

"Get to the buses!" She heard someone yell. She started running back towards the cell block, Judith, oh god, Judith, and the kids, I have to get them, I have to get them to the bus- she felt the adrenaline pumping through every single on of her veins and more panic set in as she couldn't find her baby. She dropped her weapon and started running frantically out of the cell block, looking for anyone. Surrounding her was gunfire, smoke, screams. The bus was on the far left of the cell block she was in front of and the last person she saw Judy was with Rick and the last time she saw Rick he was rolling around on the ground with the Governor and-

She felt the tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision, and she started to run towards another area the kids might be hiding. She looked back behind her to see the bus driving away from the prison. No, no, no!

Someone must have found the kids and got them on the bus. Someone must have. That bus could leave without Beth, but it wouldn't leave without the kids. Her stomach was doing flips as she wondered with the holy hell Judy was. The shooting was starting to cease, and she half jogged around the cell block, checking the corner for the attackers before sprinting to hide by a car. What was she going to do? Her family just left on the bus. She had to look for anyone else who got left behind.

The minutes that Daryl spent watching Rick try to defuse the situation felt like some of the tensest moments of his life. He'd kept a close eye on everything, trying to avoid sudden movements as he handed out the guns they had. Beth barely even registered him handing her the assault rifle before he moved away again. He couldn't blame her. All eyes were fixed on Hershel and Michonne. He had faith in Rick, but they needed to be prepared if it all went south. For a moment, there was a sense of hope. The Governor lowered Michonne's katana away from Hershel. Just as quickly, the tension exploded and all hell broke loose.

Fighting was something Daryl was used to. This felt different. It was desperate. He kept a cool head, though he wasn't sure how, as he tried his best to defend everyone. Like hell, he was gonna run away from this. He needed to get everyone else out first. He needed to know that the people who couldn't fight would be safe. The prison may have fallen around them, but it didn't mean anyone else he cared about had to die.

For him, the bus leaving was positive. It meant people got out, even if he didn't. He could take care of himself if he needed to. He had the skills to survive on his own... But he didn't want to. As isolated as he could be, he'd grown used to the adopted family of the group. Being alone seemed slightly more daunting than it had done before.

But not as daunting as the flash of blonde hair he caught sight of as she hid behind a car. Beth had been left behind.

"Beth," He called out, jogging over to the car once the firing momentarily ceased.

The look on her face reminded him just how young she was, and just how difficult of a situation she had been thrown into. Her father just died, and no one had been able to stop it. Hershel meant a lot to the group. He wasn't just Beth's dad, he looked out for everyone... And to see him cut down...

"Beth," His voice was still gruff, but low as he tried to coax her out from behind the car with him. "Beth, we gotta go."

@ bucky.

Beth stood up, feeling numb and nodded, and they stared to head into the woods. They moved in silence until it grew dark, when she finally spoke. "We should go look for others," she said firmly, her voice sounding strange after the long silence. "We made it. There could be others," she stopped her pace and turned to him. "We should go back and make sure no one is else was left behind. The kids-" she stopped, not sure of how she could finish that sentence without feels tears burn in her eyes, but she blinked them away. There was no more time to cry.

Daryl could feel himself shrinking back into his withdrawn self as they walked through the woods. They were right back where they started when the world went to hell. They'd all come so far to suddenly have it all taken away from them again. There was a mix of anger, resent, and pain swirling in his chest. He didn't know how many people they'd lost. He didn't know who was still out there... If anyone was still out there. Now, they just had to look out for themselves. It was back to basic survival.

He didn't want to talk, not really. He just wanted to keep walking. The destruction at the prison would only keep the walkers there for so longer. They had night time on their side, and they needed to use it.

"No," Daryl replied plainly as he walked past her, crossbow ready in his arms. It seemed like a cruel response, but they couldn't risk going back. Not when they'd gotten so far out.

The kids were on the bus. That's what he kept telling himself. The kids were on the bus. Beth should have been too.

"We gotta keep movin'."

@ bucky.
"Daryl, stop," Beth said, grabbing his arm. "Look, who knows who is still out there! Rick, Michonne, Carl- they were by the tank, I didn't see they make it to the bus, they can still be there." She pleaded with him, but she knew they weren't going back. Not tonight. She huffed and dropped his arm and rubbed her forehead.

"Let's at least make camp here," she said. "I can hear a river nearby, we can get some water, we'll.. Take shifts.." Beth felt like crying. But she couldn't. Not right now. Right now, she had to keep it together, because it was just her and Daryl. They needed each other.

If it had been anyone else grabbed at his arm, Daryl would have pulled it away in a huff. He knew Beth meant well, that she hadn't grabbed him out of spite or with malicious intent. He came to a stop, looking down at her hand before looking at her. This girl had no idea what survival meant. Not like this. She'd been on the road with them after the farm burnt down, but this was different. She didn't have a group to rely on anymore, it was just Daryl.

"Fine," He muttered as he relaxed his crossbow. He moved to pull the strap over his shoulder and headed towards the sound of the river.

Daryl didn't have the energy to fight with her, not after what had just happened. He didn't have faith that anyone else was still out there, and it was hard to try change the way he felt about it. Things were just so uncertain. If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't be able to believe it for a while. They were truly alone.

@ bucky.

Beth watched Daryl walk away from her, and she trailed behind after a moment. He was hurting, it was blaring obvious. Something horrible just happened. She was hurting, too.

Once they reached the river, Beth cupped her hands under the water and brought it up to her lips and drank. She did this several times before she splashed her face and arms to try and get some of the blood and grime off of herself. She glanced at Daryl. "What can I do to help with camp?" She wasn't sure where to start, since they didn't have any cans on them to guard them, or water bottles, or.. Anything. They literally had nothing but the close on their backs and their weapons. She sighed and felt her eyes burning out of frustration. Why was this happening? Why did any of this have to happen?

Daryl remained standing as Beth approached the river, crossbow back in his hands in case anything tried to get the jump on them. It didn't feel real yet; that they didn't have a home to go back to. They were back to just making do. It had been a long time since Daryl had had to think about setting up a camp. They needed a fire. They needed something to keep the walkers away from them, or at least warn them if any were approaching... But they had nothing. No bags of supplies to lug around with them. It had all been left behind at the prison. The 'just in case' Beth had been talking about weeks ago had finally come knocking at their door, and they'd been so under prepared. Now they were stuck a few miles out, hoping that they wouldn't be too close to the prison for anything to have followed them.

For the first time, Daryl didn't know what to do. He was mentally kicking himself for becoming so accustomed to the luxuries of their former home. He'd relied on fences and walls for so long he forgot what it was like to go without.

Beth asking him questions wasn't helping either. He wanted to snap at her, tell her to take some initiative and think of something her damn self. But as he looked at her, he could see she was just as scared as he was. Neither of them knew what to do. He couldn't be angry at her for that.

"Nothin'," Daryl muttered after a moment of staring at her. "We can't do shit 'till we can see where we're going..."

@ bucky.

Beth only nodded slightly, keeping her eyes averted from Daryl. Beth's mind was trying to remember everything they did last winter to keep things together. They didn't have blankets or tarps, or strings of cans to surround them and let them know if anything was comin' by. No cans of food, so Daryl would need to hunt. He made snare traps last winter. They literally had nothing on them. Beth should've grabbed her backpack once she heard the communion instead of just running out like a fool. She subconsciously checked for her knife, her pistol- which she hoped had all fifteen bullets, but she didn't think she would be using the gun in the forrest unless there really was an emergency.

She checked her pockets, and that's when she felt the little square bump and let out a sigh of relief. It was Zach's silly little zippo lighter than one of his friends had given Beth after his death, something she kept in her pocket every day to remember him. She pulled it out and tested it for a light, and after holding her breath, the third time she tried it ignited. "Daryl," she said just above a whisper. She sounded so relieved in that moment, because even though everything was terrible right now, they at least would be able to make a fire. She flicked it shut and took a few steps towards him, and pressed it into his hand.

"I'll go find some sticks and rocks for the fire," she said, looking around. She wondered if she could rip any tiny tree branches apart for Daryl to make snares, tie them together to make a thick rope. She bent down over the river and cupped her hands for another drink and glanced at the cattails surrounding her. "Could we-" her voice was quiet because she was unsure, and she didn't want to make Daryl even more frustrated. She wasn't scared of him by any means, but.. She didn't think she could handle an angry Daryl right now. She sure as hell wouldn't let him be mean to her, she would snap right back at him. She wasn't going to take any shit. Not right now. "I think if we tired up some cattails, or if i found some tree branches and cut them up, we could make snares.." she trailed off and started to pick some.

"There was always cattails around our lake every year, Daddy taught me all about 'em," she told him. "I can make baskets out of them for us until find a cabin or a house or town to get more supplies," she told him, hoping her oddball knowledge of cattails calmed him down. She figured he probably already knew, but she needed to talk, and she wasn't ready to talk about what had just happened, or for Daryl to snap at her about wanting to find Maggie, Glenn, Rick.. Judith. So she rambled on about what she knew. "We can eat the roots," she said, starting to make a pile of them. "and flower-y part can be, um.. we can roast it over the fire.." she spoke, concentrating on pulling out some deeper rooted ones.

"This way we'll at least have somethin' tonight." She said firmly. "Not gonna taste too good, but it's somethin'." She got up, scooting the pile of cattails into a neater pile and then walking about ten feet away from Daryl, where there were some fallen branches under a giant tree. Once she picked up an arms full, she walked back over to him and sat down, starting to break them into even pieces for a low fire.

[ there was a creek (which i pronounced crick and apparently that's a old school Chicago slang term for creek) by my house, a super large one, and cattails grew and used to make my brothers allergies go wild but in the spring time my momma would cut down a bunch and me and my cousins would weave baskets out of them!! and since they're in georgia by a river in the forrest i figured it was safe to assume there'd be some cattails, so i googeld "uses of cattail" and this popped up!! ]

This was the closest Daryl had felt to giving up in a long time. From the farm to the prison, it was just beginning to seem like they weren't to have a solid home. He felt stupid for thinking they would ever actually survival in a stronghold like the prison. They had something good going. Of course someone else was going to come along and ruin that for them. Part of Daryl felt responsible. They shouldn't have given up on the Governor when he ran away the first time. He should have kept tracking him, hunted him down until he could put an end to everything. He let him get away, and it had turned around and bit them all when they weren't expecting it. There was so much more he could have done... But he didn't. Now the group was shattered.

Daryl was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Beth breathe out his name. It was quiet, but every little noise was going to set them both on edge for a while. They needed to adjust fast. The lighter in her hand was a welcome relief, but it wasn't going to last them long. He took it from her, weighing it in his hand for a moment. From the way it felt, he knew there wasn't much fluid left in it. They'd need to use it sparingly. Right now, though, it was better than nothing.

Beth already seemed to be thinking for them both. She had knowledge that shocked Daryl slightly. She was coming out with things that even he wasn't certain on.

"Where'd you learn all this, girl scouts?" He muttered, the comment coming off as slightly more bitter than impressed. His voice was low but the slight bite was still evident. Daryl felt slightly guilty for the comment when Beth explained her father had taught her this stuff.

He couldn't empathise with what it felt like to lose a father. He'd loathed his. Hell, the idea of his old man getting torn apart in this new world wasn't even a sorry one for him. Prick had it coming.

He glanced up when she moved away, his instinct to take a few steps forward to follow her. They couldn't get separated, especially not in the dark like this. It irritated him slightly that she walked away so casually. They had no idea where they were, or what was around them at the minute.

[Sorry this isn't great Haven't written much in a while]

@ bucky.
( hello, love, would you like to start this back up? )