A/N: Hello everyone! First off, let me start by saying 112 REVIEWS?! You guys are wonderful! And I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story. :)

On another more somber note, I (like you, I'm sure) am devastated about what happened to our lovely Beth Greene. What a terrible death for such a wonderful character. I won't lie - it broke my heart. I briefly wondered if I should stop writing about these two, but you know what? I can't. They're just so damn perfect for each other.

So consider this chapter and this story my way of flipping the bird to the TWD writers. Enjoy!

"Yer not doin' it right."

"Well, maybe if you showed me how to hold it – "

"Don' get snippy with me, girl. If ya don' want ma help – "

"I didn't say that! I just can't seem to grip it right."

"Maybe if ya actually practiced – "

"Maybe if you were a better teacher – "

And on it went.

To an outside observer, it probably looked like they were minutes away from a full-out brawl. To Beth and Daryl, however, this was just how they communicated. The hunter would growl and mutter threats at the blonde and she would retort with some snide remarks of her own. They would stand mere inches apart, nearly touching noses, waiting for the other one to back down.

Surprisingly, Daryl would usually be the one to pull away first, shaking his head and increasing the distance between them. Beth felt deep disappointment every time he did so. Though she'd never admit it out-loud, she loved their little fights. It brought her physically closer to him, more so than she had ever dared dream she would be. Most of the time, she wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying to him. Her mouth was on autopilot, while the rest of her was reveling in how close she had managed to get her body to his.

"Will ya pay attention, Greene?"

Unfortunately, it was her lack of involvement in the general conversation that usually got her into trouble.

Daryl had taken the crossbow from her and was demonstrating the appropriate stance. His muscles flexed as he lifted the bow to eye-level, his breathing evened out, and his eyes focused on the target intently. Beth tried her very best to focus on what he was showing her, honestly she did. But her stupid love-sick brain was only interested in paying attention to Daryl's physique. Anything else was (apparently) a waste of time.

The arrow shot out of the crossbow and hit the target dead center. When it was her turn, however, Beth could barely load the crossbow by herself and holding it up presented an even bigger challenge. The weapon was too heavy for her. It threw her off balance. She knew that if there was any sort of threat, she wouldn't even be able to run with it, much less use it to effectively take down a Walker. The worst thing of all was that this wasn't her first lesson.

It was her fifth.

This was her third week of one-on-one lessons with Daryl Dixon and she might have been worse off than before they had started. She wasn't sure if she was just naturally unsuited to long-range weapons or if it was Daryl's presence that was making it hard for her to learn. But whatever it was, she knew that the hunter's patience was likely wearing thin. How much fun could it be to hang around with some girl who, despite all the hours they had spent out in the woods, couldn't even load an arrow properly?

Beth turned her attention back to the task at hand. She took a deep breath, her hands wobbling under the weight of the bow, and she tried to calm down her frantically beating heart. But before she could even get the weapon up to eye-level, Daryl grabbed the crossbow from her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, glaring at him. "I was just getting set up."

"No ya weren't. Greene, yer makin' tha same mistakes in yer form. How many times do we gotta go over this?"

She could hear the faint exasperation in his voice and internally she cringed.

"Sorry. Let me try again."

"Naw. We've been out here fer long enough. Let's go back," he told her, turning and starting to walk back to the prison.

She felt an irrational sense of panic seize her. Leaving would mean that her time with Daryl would be over. He'd go to his corner of the prison and she would go to hers, and she wouldn't have an excuse to be alone with him. She'd have to wait until she could see him again, if he even decided she was worth training at all.

"Maybe you can...hold the crossbow with me?" she blurted out suddenly. He turned back to face her, a puzzled look on his face.

"What?"

It had come out before she had time to think about it.

"Um…I mean…can you just stand behind me and…guide me?"

Before she could stop herself, she walked up to Daryl and took the crossbow gently away from him. She turned her back to him while keeping close to his chest, taking a deep breath and lifting the bow as high as her arms would allow. They shook at the effort and she could feel the strain in her shoulder blades.

"Is this all right?" she asked him, surprised that her voice wasn't quivering as she had expected it to. In fact, she sounded calm, like she did this every day.

She could feel his hesitation, feel his muscles tighten up, his breathing changing. She knew what he was thinking. He was wrestling with whether or not to put his hands on her.

"It's the only way I'll learn," Beth breathed, though she knew this wasn't true, knew that this was just a desperate attempt to keep his attention on her.

And it worked.

Warm arms encircled her own as he took most of the weight of the crossbow off of her, adjusting her hand position on the weapon. His touch was surprisingly gentle despite of the many calluses that lined his palms and fingers and she suppressed a shiver. His right foot gently nudged her own to the side, shifting her balance and making her stance more solid. Beth reminded herself that this was not the time to lose all feeling in her legs or get flustered like a school girl.

"Relax," his gravelly voice whispered in her ear, though Daryl himself didn't sound very relaxed.

The heat of his chest pressed against her back felt amazing. Better than she had imagined it could. His hands were wrapped around her own as he steadied the crossbow and Beth tried to push down the love-struck grin on her face.

"Take a deep breath," he instructed and Beth shifted her attention to the target.

And for once, with his body wrapped around hers, she could focus. She stared at the target, an old pine that they had marked with red rings for practice, and took a deep breath, like he told her to.

"Now aim…" he said, his voice so smooth and comforting in her ear. She could feel his stubble graze her cheek, and thought it was the best feeling in the whole world. His trigger finger curled around hers, and for a split second, Beth felt like time had stopped. There were no Walkers, there were no human threats, there was nothing but her and him frozen in time as a single, unbreakable unit. She was sure that there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

And then he let her go.

The crossbow faltered in her grasp as the breath she had been holding came out of her in one big whoosh. She spun around to face Daryl, ready to ask what she had done wrong, but she realized that his attention was no longer on her or the crossbow. It was on a large plume of smoke, covering the sky. It was coming from somewhere deeper in the woods, and the sight alone made her skin crawl.

"Ya got yer knife?" he asked quietly, his gaze still fixed to the sky.

Beth's hand subconsciously went to her belt, where she could feel the cool hilt of her dagger. She began to nod, but realized that Daryl wouldn't see. "Yes," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," he said, finally sparing her a glance. "Ya stay close ta me, ya hear?"

She nodded furiously. He took his crossbow from her with one hand and started heading into the dark cover of the trees. She followed without a word.

She felt physically sick. She was thankful she hadn't eaten much that morning because she was sure it would have been on the ground in front of her. The scene in front of her was one of utter devastation. The smoke they had seen had been coming from a fire in the center of the small clearing. Someone had built it and thrown two bodies onto it, both older males. Five other bodies littered the floor, some of them (as Beth was horrified to see) were children. Daryl was kneeling down in front of one, turning it over, checking for bite marks. He didn't find any. Beth could see, even from her position close to the trees (where Daryl had demanded that she stand and wait), that this was no Walker attack. There were too many narrow, hatchet like marks on these bodies, too many bruises for it to be as 'simple' as that.

These people had been butchered by other people.

She looked around their camp, wondering what on Earth had warranted such a gruesome attack on this little camp. Whatever food the group had had was gone. There was a blood stain not far from where she was standing, and it looked as if someone had dragged something away into the woods with them. She assumed (or rather hoped) that it had been an animal, something the group had caught and the murderers had taken back with them. But if that was all they wanted, was it really necessary to kill all of these people? Beth shook her head in disgust. This new world was getting uglier and uglier by the day.

Near the body of a woman, not far from where she was standing, something was reflecting the sunlight directly into her eyes. Beth put her arm up to shield her eyes and walked a bit closer to the object, wondering what it could be. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was an aluminum bow. There was no quiver near it, and as she looked around, she could only spot three arrows, one of which (upon closer inspection) was nearly broken. But despite the lack of ammunition for the bow, Beth picked it up anyway. She was pleased with how light it felt and that she could hold it confidently in one hand. She turned, wanting to show Daryl.

"Dar – "

The first syllable was all she managed to get out before a dirty arm wrapped itself around her neck and pulled her back. She dropped the bow.

"Well hello sugar," his voice purred into her ear, making her shiver in disgust. She could smell his dirty sweat, feel it on the skin around her neck as he held her tightly. She felt the sharp sting of the tip of a blade being held to her cheek and she tried not to flinch.

Daryl was already standing, crossbow up and loaded, the arrow pointing at the man's head. His eyes were dark, darker than Beth had ever seen, and his mouth was set in a deep scowl. This jerk had no idea how much trouble he was in. A pissed off Daryl Dixon was deadly.

"Let 'er go," Daryl growled lowly, eyes flashing. The hunter moved to take a step forward but the man pressed his knife into Beth's cheek. She let out a hiss of pain as it broke skin. Daryl froze.

"I just wanna borrow her, friend," the murderer said, his fowl breath filling Beth's nostrils and making her gag. "It's been a long time since I've seen such a pretty blonde thing."

Beth's heart rate rose, her breathing quickened but to her surprise, it wasn't because of fear. Instead, she remembered what Michonne had told her only the day before.

"You may not be the strongest in our group, Beth," the swordswoman had said as the blonde laid on the ground, breathing hard after a particularly vigorous sparring session. "And you're scrawny as hell. But you're fast. It's nearly impossible to land a punch on your skinny ass. You just can't be afraid to fight. They'll never see it coming."

And for once in her life, Beth decided not to wait to be rescued.

With all of her strength, she elbowed the man in the gut. The move surprised him and his grip around her neck loosened. This gave her just enough room to grab that arm with both hands and bite into it. Hard. He screamed, releasing her completely and Beth managed to extract herself, getting her body far enough away from him before she grabbed her own knife, still safely stowed in her belt.

"You little bitch!" he shrieked, his eyes murderous. "I'll make you pay…"

She knew that she should run back to Daryl, hide behind the hunter with his crossbow (who was now staring at what had just happened with an open mouth). But instead, she turned around, ready to face the man who had put his hands on her.

Ready to fight.

The man charged at her, all 250 pounds of him, swiping at her with both his knife and fists. Beth knew that if he made contact, that would be the end of her. He'd kill her before Daryl could even fire a shot. So she had to move.

Thankfully, due to his massive bulk, he was slow. Beth wondered how someone like this had survived for so long out in the wilderness. He was zombie chow in every feasible scenario. She dodged every punch, ducked out of every knife swing, but he was pushing her back. Soon, they'd be at the tree line, and then there could be some serious trouble. So she used the move that Michonne had taught her would never fail.

As he threw another punch at her left side, she dodged to the right. Before he could fully recover, she swiped at him with her knife, catching him just below his chin and drawing blood. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was enough to get him to hiss in pain, cup his chin with both hands and give her the distraction she needed. With all of her strength, she kicked him directly in the groin.

His eyes practically bulged out of his head and his legs buckled. He fell immediately onto his knees, moaning.

"It's hard for a woman to beat a man in armed, much less unarmed, combat," she could hear Michonne's voice say in her head. "No matter how much we train, they can over-power us if we give them the chance. And sometimes, that chance makes the difference between life and death. So we take that opportunity away from them."

"How?"

Michonne had grinned at her question. "By kicking them in the balls."

Beth had flinched. "Isn't that a bit harsh?"

The samurai had looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Beth. When a man is attacking you, putting your life in danger, you use every advantage you have. He deserves everything you give him."

Looking down at the man in front of her, Beth decided that Michonne was right. This murderer deserved no pity from her.

"You'll…be…sorry," he gasped, looking up at her with crazed black eyes and grinning. "When I…get up…you'll…wish you were…dead."

At that moment, Daryl stepped in between the man and Beth, his crossbow pointed at the man's head.

"Shut up," he growled, pulling the trigger and sending the arrow straight through the man's skull. His body fell back with a thud.

Beth stared at the sight. She watched as Daryl lowered his crossbow, and turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"Should we have killed him?" she asked softly, because she knew she had contributed to the man's death just as much as if she had pulled the trigger herself. "There could be others…"

"I don' care," Daryl snapped, his eyes dark with anger. "He put his hands on ya. He doesn' get ta live after that."

Beth's cheeks heated up at his words and her blue eyes widened. But Daryl didn't appear to notice.

"Does it hurt much?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her cheek where the knife had made contact with her skin.

Beth shook her head. "No," she whispered, her hand coming up to touch where the knife had scratched her. She pulled her hand away and saw some dried blood, but the wound didn't feel deep. She was more scared that if she spoke any louder, this moment between them might be ruined.

Who would have thought that Daryl Dixon actually cared about her?

He nodded briefly at her answer and turned around, walking to the spot where the murderer had grabbed her and picked up the aluminum bow. He held it in his hand and inspected it, pulling back on the bow string, testing it out. He walked back to her and handed the bow over. Beth couldn't help but smile.

" 's not bad," he told her. "Could do with some modifications, maybe a new bow string. Did ya find the quiver?"

She shook her head in the negative. "No. I only saw three arrows," she said, and walked over to pluck them out of the ground. "And this one is almost broken." She held it up for him to see, demonstrating the crack in its side.

The hunter nodded silently. He looked up at the sky, and then back to the fire that was still burning.

"Let's put this out. Then get outta here."

She agreed. It was already getting late and their family would be worried about them.

They walked back to the prison silently together, Beth slightly behind Daryl. His crossbow was out and she had her knife in hand, just in case they met any more of that group of murderous merry men. However, their walk was uneventful. Not even a single Walker crossed their path. They made it back just as the sun was setting, and saw that Rick, Michonne and Maggie were outside by the cars.

"We were getting worried!" Maggie exclaimed when she saw them, running to give Beth a hug. She stopped short, looking at her sister's face with wide-eyes. "Beth! What happened to your – "

"It's not as bad as it looks, Maggie," the blonde interrupted. She didn't want to deal with her sister's over-protective reactions right now.

"Dixon, I trusted you with her!" the elder Greene snapped, turning on the man.

"It's not Daryl's fault!" Beth exclaimed, stepping between her sister and the hunter in a defensive stance. "Some madman – "

The blonde stopped short, realizing that she had already said too much.

"Madman?" Rick asked, his face going from relieved at seeing them both to worried in the span of a second.

He looked at Daryl and the hunter looked back at him without a word. But that was all the pair needed to understand each other.

"Let's go inside to talk," Rick said, using the 'Sheriff Rick voice' that Beth knew so well.

Daryl nodded his ascent and the men went inside. Maggie soon followed after them, but not before fixing her sister with a serious look.

"We'll talk about this later," she said authoritatively. Beth wanted to roll her eyes but instead only nodded, watching as her sister disappeared. With any luck, Maggie would forget all about this in the morning.

"Nice bow."

The blonde turned to look at Michonne, who she had almost forgot was standing there. Beth grinned.

"You like it?"

"Looks good on you," the samurai said. "Did Dixon get it for you?"

The girl blushed. "No! I found it."

"And fought for it, by the looks of it," Michonne said, nodding to the bruises around her neck and arms. Beth looked down, surprised to see them there. She hadn't even noticed.

"It wasn't an easy fight but…luckily I had a good teacher," she said with a grin. The swordswoman laughed and put an arm around Beth's shoulder as they too headed inside.

"As sweet as it is, flattery won't get you out of your training tomorrow, young Padawan."

By the next morning, everyone had heard about the incident in the woods. No one was to leave the prison, except in groups, though this was nothing unusual. Beth couldn't remember the last time anyone had gone out alone. Rick and Daryl spent a lot of time together and she didn't see much of the hunter or the sheriff for two days. After spending the mornings planning, Daryl spent the rest of his time in the watch tower alone, refusing to let anyone up there with him. Carl claimed he was making something, after seeing him carrying long pieces of wood to the tower with him, but no one knew for sure.

On the third day after the incident, Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Michonne had gone on a short, three-day recon mission. Maggie and Carol were left in charge, and Beth was grateful. It would keep her sister too busy to ask questions and the younger Greene could enjoy some quiet time.

The blonde spent her time with Judy, who she had missed more than she cared to admit while she had spent so much time training. The baby babbled and giggled as Beth rocked her in her arms, shaking the silver rattle with her chubby little hand. The blonde smiled brightly at her, kissing the girl's forehead and murmuring sweet nothings.

Carl and Zach spent time together, killing Walkers along the fences (a duty they had taken over while Beth was busy with Judith) and laughing uproariously at whatever it was that they were talking about. When the boys weren't together, Zach (bless his thick heart) tirelessly pursued the blonde. She gave him no encouragement, even told him that she really wasn't interested, but he never gave up hope. So Beth simply sighed and ignored him. He'd tire eventually.

Daryl was never far from her thoughts. She worried about him, worried about all four of them, but mostly about the hunter. Was he okay? Had they found anything? Was he eating and taking care of himself? Or was he driving himself to exhaustion looking for the rest of that group of murderers? She would bet anything that it was the latter.

Finally, after three long days, the prison gates opened. Beth rushed outside with the others, Judith cradled in her arms. Her heart beat frantically as she saw four silhouettes approach her and she bit her bottom lip in worry. And then there they were, looking a bit hungry and exhausted but whole. She sighed in relief. Her eyes automatically fixed themselves on the hunter, looking him over frantically, making sure that there were no wounds or any other kinds of injuries. Satisfied that she could see no damage, her attention turned to his face. To her surprise, he was staring directly at her, his eyes a softer blue than she had ever seen. Her heart skipped a beat.

Rick reached her first, kissing Judith on the forehead and thanking Beth for taking care of her. The blonde only smiled, told him it was no problem. Michonne squeezed her shoulder as she passed.

"Hope you had a good break, Greene," the swordswoman teased as she passed.

Glenn ruffled her hair affectionately as he went to hug Maggie and then, finally, Daryl stood in front of her. Her heart fluttered and she couldn't keep that stupid grin off her face.

"Hi," she breathed, unable to think of anything else to say but at the same time feeling like she had said everything.

"Hey," he said with his gruff voice, making her knees feel weak.

"Did you find them?" Carl asked, reminding Beth that their entire family was present.

"No. We looked for two days, searched every corner, but found no humans," Rick answered. "Just a lot of Walkers. Could be the Walkers got to them before we did, but we can't know for sure. They might still be out there. On the last day, we decided to go get some supplies while we were out. Some food, medicine, and weapons."

As Rick was talking, Daryl took off the shoulder bag he had been carrying. He pulled out cans and handed them to Carol who thanked him and went inside to start cooking up a feast. He gave some bandages and antibiotics to Glenn and Maggie (who were, of course, tied at the hip after being apart for so long). They also went inside to put the items away, and Rick and Michonne followed after getting some ammunition, talking in whispers about something and glancing at Daryl with sly smiles on their faces. Carl received a new knife ("bitching!" he exclaimed) as did Zach. Finally, Daryl pulled out a long, dark green cylinder with a black strap attached to it, and a black bag covering what Beth could only assume was the opening. Both boys stopped what they were doing and stared, as did Beth. Daryl held out the cylinder to the blonde with a grunt.

She looked at him curiously and handed Judith to Carl as she took the strange object. She pulled off the bag and gasped. At least fifteen arrows greeted her, most of them brand new but some, as she realized, hand-made. She pulled a handmade one out and stared at it, marveling at the workmanship. It was beautiful.

" 's just something I've been workin' on," Daryl mumbled, not looking Beth in the eye. " 's not finished yet. Gotta put the feathers on…"

"You got her sticks?" Zach asked with a snort.

"They're not sticks, moron," Carl said with an eye-roll. "They're arrows."

"Stik!" Judith screeched, laughing and reaching for the arrow.

"See? Even the baby thinks it's a stick. It sure looks like one," Zach said with a smug smirk.

Beth saw Daryl look away, embarrassed. It was obvious that he thought the arrows he had made weren't good enough.

"Ya don' have ta use em…" he murmured, reaching to grab the arrow from her but she pulled away from him.

"No," she said, softly but firmly. He stared at her, surprised. "They're perfect. More than I could ever ask for. Thank you."

And before she could even think about the consequences, she stepped closer to him and stood on her tiptoes, kissing him softly on the cheek. She felt his skin heat up under her lips.

Of course, not to be forgotten, Carl made his presence known by cat-calling. Judith made gurgling sounds of approval, clapping her hands together and Zach looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"Ugh. Get a room," Zach grumbled, stomping back into the prison without another word. Carl laughed at his friend's grumpy mood and looked down at his little sister with a grin, tickling her stomach lightly.

"Aw, are Dawyl and Bweth bweing adowable?" he baby-talked to Judith, making the little girl giggle and grab at his fingers.

"Shut up, Carl," Daryl mumbled, his face bright red and looking away from Beth, obviously trying to hide his reaction. The teen only grinned wider as he turned and began to walk away, his sister in his arms.

"Just make sure you use protection!" he called out, making both Daryl and Beth's jaws drop.

"Shut up Carl!" they both yelled in unison. The last sound they heard before he disappeared inside the prison was Carl's mischievous laugh.

Beth sighed, putting Daryl's arrow back inside the quiver and looking up at the blushing hunter in front of her. She had to admit, he did look very handsome flustered like this.

"Do you want some help when you take first watch tonight?" she asked, surprised at her own boldness.

He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a second, Beth thought he was going to say no. That he would grow cold and distant, that he would scoff and tell her that she still wasn't ready, despite all of her training and how she had handled herself in the woods. But of course, he surprised her. He would always surprise her.

He answered with just one word.

"Okay."

A/N: Yes, I know that no secret gifts were given this chapter and I apologize. But I hope you liked this chapter regardless! :) Please review and let me know what you think!