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Daryl wasn’t concentrating on the walkers that meandered through the break in the trees only to find themselves up against a fence. He took them out mindlessly, one by one, and reloaded his rifle while stealing glances to his left where Beth sat on an overturned bucket with her own rifle between her knees. He liked her company even though the two had remained silent since she’d climbed the ladder into the watch tower an hour prior. Sometimes spoken words weren’t needed, though, and he was fluent in body language.
Like right now Beth was bored, a slumped heap of fatigue beside him that sighed every few minutes and yawned every ten. But she was content, because if she wasn’t she’d have said something. Or left. Or brought a book along. He wondered if she was happy for the quiet, tranquil atmosphere that taking care of an infant didn’t offer to her.
Daryl shifted on his bucket, raised his gun, and shot another walker square in the forehead. It dropped heavily to the ground with an audible thud. “Who relieved you of your motherly duties?” he finally asked, turning toward Beth.
Beth could've fallen asleep where she sat atop a bucket that wasn't exactly comfortable, but better than the ground. She was exhausted. Judith was a great baby, but she still wanted attention every second of every day. Human interaction — babies needed it. But at least she got to bond with her mother a little bit this time around. The only thing keeping her awake were the nerves that coursed through her body every time she was anywhere near Daryl Dixon. His voice cut the silence like a knife, jerking her into a more fully conscious state. "Maggie and Glenn are playing house," Beth responded dryly, stifling a yawn and smiling softly at the man looking at her. "I'm sure we'll see them when Judith gets cranky."
Chuckling, Daryl nodded slowly and looked out over the prison grounds again, a smile still present on his lips. “Maybe you’ll get a night off,” he suggested. He actually hoped for it, for her sake, so that she could get a good night’s sleep for the first time in a little over a month. For his sake, too, because he missed her—missed talking to her and spending time with her — and she was so tired at this point she didn’t feel present.
“You deserve a night off,” he concluded and offered her a warm smile, which faded quickly as the door behind them opened and Rick slipped through it.
“Thought I’d find you here,” the group’s leader commented, his gaze set on Beth. “Maggie wants to know if we’ve got any more formula; said she checked the storage cell, but there’s none there.”
There was a moment when fear coursed through Beth's body at the thought of not having any formula. She almost chuckled to herself when she remembered the stash in her cell.
"Oh, there are a few cans under my bed. But she'll go through those pretty quickly." Beth hesitated to offer her services for a run, but maybe some zombie killing would do her good, help her rid the weight of Lori's death that still hung all around her. But finally, she looked to Daryl. "Would you want to go on a run for some? Maggie and Glenn can handle the baby, and Rick," she turned to the man, "you could take over the watch?"
Daryl responded with a shrug of his shoulders and a quick nod as he too looked to Rick for the final ‘okay,’ which was given as he reached for Daryl’s rifle. He stood to his feet, hoisted his crossbow over his head to settle on his shoulder, and followed Beth down from the watch tower and back into the prison.
“I’ll get the keys to the truck,” he began as they walked down the cell block, “and a few guns. Give Maggie the formula and grab a notebook, then meet me at the truck, alright?”
~*~*~*~
It was all a blur for Beth after splitting from Daryl to collect their respective gear for the trip. Adrenaline was already coursing through her veins and that instinct — she actually missed it — the instinct to survive.
When she found herself at attention from head to toe watching the trees pass by as they drove, Beth knew this trip was a good idea. They were straying from the timeline once more, and saving Maggie and Glenn from being kidnapped.
Beth instructed Daryl to keep driving when he started to look for places that might have the things they needed. She could tell he wanted to question her but she simply said "Just trust me," and that was all the convincing he seemed to need.
When they'd been driving for much longer than she'd expected Maggie and Glenn would've — Beth admittedly didn't know all that much about what happened to them, Maggie never got to the point she felt comfortable sharing — she spotted a decent small-town department store. "There," she pointed. The place was nondescript, and almost seemed untouched by the crumbling world around it. It had been a while since they'd seen any structures at all, and Beth imagined it would be a while until another one came along. This town, if you could call it that, probably didn't have many inhabitants to begin with. Everyone either evacuated or died early on. Beth tried not to think about it as they pulled into the parking lot.
Daryl found himself accustomed to life after the apocalypse. There were no rules, laws, or painted parking spots to abide by. He liked parking wherever he felt like parking, and today, it was directly beside the storefront for easy loading.
He had no idea why Beth urged him to keep driving despite finding multiple adequate stores, but this one seemed a lot less raided. Which, of course, would be to their benefit. In fact, she seemed really desperate for him not to stop at the closest store to rummage through it, so he went along with her instructions. The further they drove out, the more time he got to spend with her.
“What’s on that list again?” he asked as he banged on the door to draw the walkers forward. Beth juggled her gun and knife in one hand as she flipped her notebook open to read off the list they’d created on the drive.
"Formula — obviously — toys, crib, canned foods," Beth read off mindlessly before pausing as a few walkers slugged their way toward the glass doors. “Alcohol maybe, if we're lucky? We could all use a pick me up, I think."
Daryl chuckled and shook his head as he counted off with his fingers before opening one door. Beth took the first walker out by driving her knife into its skull, and Daryl was right behind her with an arrow through the next coming out of the door frame. They quickly and skillfully took out the small herd as if they'd been battling this war side-by-side for a decade. They were comfortable with each other; at least, Beth knew the archer had her back. And she knew she had his. Daryl's skill came mostly from his hunting background, but she hoped he felt like she was a skilled partner to have by his side.
Through the doorway now, the two took in the store for a moment. "Let's start over there," Beth pointed to the far corner, "and work our way back up." Daryl nodded and they started making their way toward the back of the store. Beth picked up a toy from one of the displays on the fronts of the aisles. "Judith will love this," she said, smiling at the thought of the baby and holding the brightly colored squeezy toy up for Daryl to see. "It's soft and pliable so it'll be good for her when she starts teething too."
Daryl looked up at the toy and nodded slowly, noticing the plastic edges probably placed with a teething baby in mind. He smiled and nodded toward the bag on the girl’s back for her to add it to their stash.
“Good thinkin’, Beth,” he muttered as he turned a corner and entered another aisle of baby things. Most of the shelves here were left untouched and he quickly found a few cans of formula. The dust atop the cans looked undisturbed, making him remember that most babies nowadays probably didn’t survive long enough for their parents to seek out formula. “Rubbing her gums’ll help, too…once she starts teething,” Daryl mused as he filled a shopping basket with all the formula from the shelf. “Cold fruit, wet rag, baby Tylenol. List is endless.” As he walked, he tipped a package of bottles off the shelf and into his basket.
Beth nodded at Daryl's advice, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." As they continued filling up each of their bags, they made small talk about babies. Well, Beth made small talk and Daryl offered advice that made Beth wonder where he got so much knowledge about babies. Beth thought about asking, but she figured she'd save that kind of weighted question for another time. Finally, as Beth realized she was picking out things she wanted for the group, rather than what was necessary, she asked, "Is there anything else we need?"
At her question, Daryl thought through what they’d picked up and shook his head. “Think we got everythin’ we need,” he mumbled, shuffling toward the door now. “Just gotta get this crib in the back of the truck and we’ll be good.”
Slipping through the front door of the store, he set his basket of formula down and started dragging the large box forward.
“A crib?” a man’s voice asked, making Daryl whip around quickly to see who’d said it. “Where’re you taking that?”
Beth was startled by the sound of a new voice. When she found the source, she saw a tall, slender man with a creepy smile. His voice was kind, but almost overly so. She didn't trust him off the bat, and she felt a rage swelling inside of her just looking at his smug face. She couldn't quite place where the feeling was coming from.
She looked around to see if he was with anyone, but he seemed to be alone. "We're taking it to our camp," Beth said, crossing her arms around her body guardedly. Without even looking at Daryl, she could feel his demeanor change as well. After all this time in a world full of death and despair, they'd learned to fear the living as much, if not more than, the dead that walked the Earth.
"And where would that be, little lady?" The man she'd finally placed as the Governor — before he had to wear an eye patch. The man who killed her father. She knew she had to play it cool. Even before, she'd never actually met the guy.
Daryl watched silently, unsure of how to handle this situation where the both of them got out unscathed. He eyed the man, noticing his weapons in the holsters around his waist and the calluses on his hands. Rough, and not as gentle as he was letting on. He didn’t trust the man in the same way that he didn’t trust the prisoners.
As the Governor stepped closer to her, waiting on an answer, Beth took a step back for every one he stepped forward, staring him down. "With all due respect, I don't see how it's any of your business."
A flash came across the Governor’s eyes, so familiar to Daryl that he flinched and drew back instinctively as the man made quick work of the distance Beth had created between them and brought his down hard against her cheek. The man paused as the smack echoed twice, giving Daryl enough time to react and pull his gun out.
When the Governor saw Daryl pull his weapon, he grabbed Beth, who had stumbled back from the force of his blow, and placed the barrel of his gun against her temple. She whimpered quietly, knowing she had screwed up. She should've just run, dropped everything and ran away when she placed the face of the man threatening to kill her now. Daryl would've been puzzled, but he would've followed her. But it was too late now.
"Get in the truck," the Governor commanded of both of them. Daryl straightened his shoulders and readjusted his hands around the gun. "Don't be stupid now," the Governor chuckled. "I got your girl, and I'll kill her if you make one wrong move. Now get in the damn truck!"
The Governor pulled Beth back toward the vehicle, and she reluctantly moved with him. Daryl resigned his defense, clipping his gun back into his belt as he hurried around to the driver’s side of the truck. He turned the ignition shakily three times before the car finally started, and as he pulled out of the parking lot, he felt the barrel of the Governor’s gun rest just behind his right ear. “Follow my directions or I take over,” the man warned.
Looking up into the rearview mirror, Daryl caught the Governor’s gaze for a moment before focusing on what was reflected behind him: A woman — definitely not a walker — gathering up the formula they’d left behind and taking out two walkers with a single sweep of a katana.