Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to AMC's Walking Dead or any of the characters. I own only my imagination.
Summary: Just two people at the end of the world, thrown together, alone together. T rating (for now), during S4, post-prison. BETHYL.
We all got jobs to do, Beth remembers her father telling her. That night in the prison, her home, when things seemed like they were falling apart, like they couldn't get any worse.
She sure knew better now. It could always get worse. And usually does, especially when you least expect it to. She wants to scream and cry, throw a tantrum right there next to the dying fire, kick up the dirt with her feet and bring the walkers down upon her. Daryl probably wouldn't even flinch. Just leave her or knock her over the head or something. Tell her to get her shit together. Tell her to grow up.
Instead, she just folds her arms over her knees and puts her head down. She watches the cooling embers flare up and dim again, rhythmically, quietly. It would be so easy just to give up now. To join the hungry parade of the dead. But when she closes her eyes, Beth sees her father in his final moments clearly. His face in their direction, she and Maggie, his eyes drinking them in, but his expression calm, steady, accepting.
You're not gonna quit now, he'd tell her, you've still got a job to do. We all got jobs to do. And right now, yours is living.
It's getting late, the sun has already begun to dip behind the trees, and before she can move, Daryl is up and stamping out the remains of their campfire, then moving on to check the lines.
Beth pulls out a couple of thin blankets she'd hastily packed on their last scavenge and lays one down for herself, smoothing it out under the small makeshift tent.
"Here, it's my watch tonight," she holds the other one out to Daryl as he makes his way back over.
His eyes flit over to her briefly before he drops down heavily away from her and punches his bag around like a pillow before laying his head down. He doesn't respond. She's nobody to him, just tagging along.
"Oookay."He's angry, she reasons as she packs the blanket back into her bag. Not at me, at everything.
She understands. She gets it, but she knows he doesn't think she does. To him, she's just the kid who doesn't know shit about this world or any other world. But she's here with him and that's enough for now.
They lay on their backs, staring up at the stars peeking down on them from in-between the tree tops.
"Everything finally seemed just normal for a while, ya know?" Her soft voice drifts over to him, wavering in the silence.
"Ain't nothin' ever been normal." That's the real truth, Daryl thinks. And before she can say anything else stupid, he turns his back to her.
There's no such thing as normal, that's the real truth.
A/n: This will have multiple chapters. I'm open to suggestions about where you guys want the plot to go or any ideas for their journey together.