Near the end of S2, Daryl was still a bit angry. He really came into his own during that long winter after the fall of the farm but still the farm doesn't fall in this story, we get to see him become the S3 Daryl we know. Beth is going to be overcoming her depression through these chapters.

…

Chapter Three. Knife.

Within just a couple of weeks, it seemed like everyone was wearing something made out of colorful strings of yarn. Hats or scarves or mittens and in Lori and Carol's case, all three.

Daryl had woken up one morning to see that there was a green scarf on his bag in the kitchen. He had stared at it for a moment as if he didn't understand where it had come from and he had picked it up gingerly like a chicken's egg. It was soft and thick and each day, it was getting colder and colder and it would definitely come in handy and yet, he put it in his bag instead, not wanting to wear it. It was fine for everyone else to wear what Beth had made them and keep themselves warm but he could just imagine everyone's looks to him if he was to wear something that she had made. He already was making sure he never looked at her because he was certain that if he did, everyone would think he was some pervert.

Man his age looking at a seventeen year old girl, he knew what they already all thought of him even if they were looking at him to keep them all safe. That didn't change that he was nothing better than some stupid redneck who kept looking at the youngest girl on the farm.

So his neck would be cold. It didn't bother him. It wasn't his first winter he would be cold.

He knew he had to keep Beth safe. All of them safe but especially Beth. He knew she didn't think it but if she was to go, the rest of them would go. That was just the truth. She was the most important thing to her old man and her older sister and if Beth was to die, it would all go toppling down after that like dominoes. Keeping Beth safe and alive was the smartest thing any of them could do.

He still couldn't look at her – which made keeping her safe a challenge. He didn't want to put himself around her too often because that would make people look, too, and hell. It wasn't as if he wanted to be around her. Most of the time, he just felt himself getting angry whenever he was. Looking at her pale skin and blonde hair the color of sunshine and that damn bandage around her wrist. Girl wasn't built for this world. That was for damn sure.

He considered talking to Rick about her. No one would bat an eye if Rick or T-Dog or Glenn stayed close to her and looked out for her. He wasn't going to ask Jimmy to do it. He was observant around everyone and saw things that most people probably didn't but it didn't seem to be a secret that Beth was avoiding Jimmy – as much as a girl could avoid her little boyfriend while they were all living together. But the kid was an idiot and never seemed to take the hint. He liked to suffocate her until she physically had to push him away from her.

Patricia was like that, too. Wherever Beth found herself, it was expected that either Jimmy or Patricia weren't far behind. They weren't letting the girl breathe. Hershel and Maggie would watch her with hawk-like eyes but they at least gave her a little bit of room, knowing she needed it. Daryl was surprised Beth hadn't exploded more times than she had at them all and he was surprised he didn't find her outside for some fresh air more than he did.

He sat outside of the barn, witling at a stick with his knife, working on making himself some more arrows. Inside, he heard the horses neigh and stomp their hooves on the wooden floor as they munched on their hay. He preferred to be out here when he was able to have time to himself. It was quiet and people weren't constantly depending on him for something. He liked Carol but she would look at him sometimes, looking so damn sad, and he didn't know what to do about it. Rick would look to him when he made a decision, as if he was looking to see if Daryl agreed with him.

It was all too much responsibility and Daryl was stepping up to it but sometimes, he just wanted to be by himself.

He had been in the kitchen that morning, returning his plate after eating the scrambled eggs that Patricia had made for everyone and had witnessed Lori and Rick there. Lori was talking with him softly – or at least trying to talk with him – but Rick was acting as if she wasn't even there. He was checking on the bullets in his gun and looking out the window over the sink, making himself completely unaware to his wife beside him.

Daryl quickly ducked his head, making himself small and invisible just like he had done for his whole life, and left the kitchen, not wanting anyone to notice him.

It wasn't anyone else's business about what happened between Rick and Lori though they already knew everything. Lori and Shane thinking Rick was dead and turning to one another for comfort. Shane becoming obsessed with Lori, trying to kill Rick, Rick killing him in return, Lori crying in anguish when Rick told them all what he had done, Lori mourning for the man as if she had been in love with him, too.

And now she was pregnant with a baby and they would never know who the father was.

Daryl understood Rick's anger towards Lori but at the same time, Daryl couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It was obvious she was trying to make amends but it was obvious that Rick just didn't care about that and as if they were divorced parents, Carl was starting to take sides and even though he didn't know the whole story, the boy began to inch towards his dad and furthering himself from his mom, adding to Lori's sadness.

So much damn sadness in that house.

He was glad the farm was big enough for them to spread out and get out of each other's hair for a while.

Daryl finished the stick and held it up, checking to see if the point was sharp enough. When it passed his inspection, he set it aside and picked up another stick to start work on the next. As T-Dog said, he only had so many arrows and though Daryl had no problem firing a gun, he didn't really want to. He preferred his bow. It was quiet and his bow kept them fed. What they really only had so many of was bullets and they couldn't waste precious ammunition taking down walkers. Gun shots were too loud and dangerous and walkers weren't the only ones they had to keep themselves quiet from.

The chicken coop was beside the barn and he heard the door open, someone stepping inside, the chickens clucking away at the person's arrival. He paused his knife, trying to hear who it was, but the person was quiet and after a moment, he began sharping the stick once more.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by."

Daryl instantly stopped once he heard the person in the chicken coop begin to sing. And he had never heard her sing before but he knew it was her. Beth. He sat and listened to the song. He didn't know the song; had never heard it before but he listened to the way she sang it. He had never heard a nicer sounding voice than hers.

"When hope was high and life worth living.

I dreamed that love would never die.

I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

Then I was young and unafraid.

And dream were made and used and wasted.

There was no ransom to be paid.

No song unsung; no wine untasted."

Daryl hadn't even realized that he had gotten to his feet until he was standing on the other side of the coop, looking at her through the chicken wire. She didn't see him as she continued sifting through the straw, hunting for eggs and singing her song. She was wearing a jean jacket that didn't seem like it would be warm enough and a yellow knit hat on her head, pulled down over her ears.

He frowned. She wasn't paying attention. She was never paying attention. His eyes scanned up and down her form even as he told himself to stop looking at her.

"Where the hell is your knife?" He all but growled, his voice rough and sudden, and Beth jumped in surprise, spinning towards him, almost dropping the egg she held in her hand.

When she saw that it was him, she visibly swallowed and shook her head slightly. "I'm… it was decided that I shouldn't have it."

Daryl took a step closer to the coop, his frown deepening. "Who the hell decided that?"

Beth turned her head so she wasn't looking at him any longer. She collected a few more eggs and then left the coop, closing the door and latching it shut behind her. She clutched the basket in her hands as she came around the coop to stand before him. She lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face and he saw that that white bandage was no longer wrapped around her wrist. In its place, she now wore a collection of bracelets.

"Patricia didn't think it was smart that I carry a knife around," she said.

Daryl let out some sort of growl as he went, grabbing his crossbow and swinging it onto his shoulder, before turning and stalking off towards the house. He heard Beth behind him, hurrying to keep up, but he didn't care enough that she was following him to slow his steps down. He was too angry to slow down.

Climbing the steps, he stormed in through the front door. Others were in there, trying to keep themselves warm from the dropping temperature outside as it got later in the day. Maggie, Glenn, Jimmy and T-Dog were all playing cards, trying to pass the afternoon by. Andrea stood at the large window, keeping watch, and Carol was on the couch, doing some mending. Daryl's eyes scanned over them all and then with a flex in his jaw, he stalked his way to the kitchen. Patricia and Lori were both in there and he stopped in the doorway.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" He demanded.

The two women had been talking and smiling about something as they stood at the stove but now that he had appeared, they turned to look at him, surprised and confused.

"What happened?" Lori asked, worry taking over her features immediately, thinking that he must be talking about her husband or son.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Beth step past him and she went to go set the egg basket down on the table. He kept his attention on Patricia though.

"You can't go havin' her fetch eggs if she's got no protection on her," Daryl said and he could feel his heart pounding quickly in his chest. "What she gonna do if a walker stumbled 'round here? Sing it a damn song?"

Patricia's spine straightened as she returned his stare. "Do you really think giving Beth a knife of all things is the smart thing to do?"

"In case you forgot, we got bigger things to worry 'bout. We plannin' on keepin' all sharp objects away from her forever?" Daryl asked and he could hear shuffling behind him, alerting to him that the others were starting to come to listen in on the argument – though in his opinion, there wasn't much of one. Beth needed a weapon. End of discussion.

"Beth, are you alright?" Jimmy pushed his way into the kitchen and went right for her.

Beth visibly winced though when he got too close and she took a few steps away, holding a hand out to stop him from getting closer. Daryl looked at them with a frown. He couldn't believe that a kid could be that stupid. Wasn't Beth making it obvious to him?

He looked back to Patricia.

"I'm saying that Beth is safe walking from the house to the chicken coop," Patricia said, remaining calm though Daryl could see the steel in her eyes. "We always have people patrolling this farm. If a walker got through, it would have been seen."

Daryl almost shook his head at how stupid this woman was being. "That what you think? That we're safe? We ain't safe anywhere and we can't get lazy or stupid. Beth needs to be able to protect herself just like we all can. She ain't gonna be dead weight."

"You don't have to worry yourself with her," Patricia said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We are all perfectly capable of looking out for her."

Daryl stared at her and he wondered if he was just imagining what she was getting at but he knew he wasn't. There was no way he was so stupid where he wouldn't be able to figure out what she was telling him. And Daryl instantly felt like an idiot for confronting her. He could now feel everyone's eyes on him, probably all wondering the same thing.

Why did he care so much? He was to keep the farm and them safe but he shouldn't have been putting all of his focus on some teenaged girl unless there was some other reason for his actions. They probably all thought that he had a thing for little girls now, making such a big deal about Beth being able to stay safe.

His fingers tightened around the strap of his crossbow until his knuckles turned white. Just a few weeks ago, he would have stormed out of here with a "Fuck you" thrown over his shoulder. And he was still planning on doing all of that but some things had changed. He had become someone of importance to Rick and to all of their survival. When it came to surviving, they didn't doubt him. Just when it came to giving a shit about someone other than himself did they pause. And why the hell did he give a shit about Beth? Who was she? Just Hershel's youngest and weak-ass daughter. Important to Hershel and Maggie but sure as hell not important to him. He didn't even know her for her to be anything.

If Patricia thought everyone but him could keep her safe, fine.

He looked to Beth, who was watching him intently, clearly waiting to see what he would do or say to Patricia's last comment. He could help but wonder what she was thinking. He almost growled at himself. He didn't care. Why did he have to keep reminding himself that?

"Looks like they'll be buryin' you after all," he said.

He went and grabbed his bag from the corner and without another work or look to any of them, he pushed his way through the back screen door.

He saw Hershel, Rick and Carl all at the generator but Daryl walked past them without stopping, even when Rick called his name.

"Hey!" Rick caught up to him easily. "Where are you going?" He asked, looking at the bag over his shoulder.

"Sleepin' in the barn from now on," Daryl said, not stopping his stride. "Too many damn people in that house and I don' need to be 'round 'em all the time."

"You can't sleep in the barn. It's getting too cold," Rick shook his head.

"Gotta blanket and hay's in there. Don't need more than that," Daryl wasn't going to be convinced otherwise on this.

They all looked to him as some dirty hick until it came for their asses to be saved. Then they all looked at him as their savior. He wasn't going to be putting himself around them more than he had to be.

Rick looked over their shoulders back to the house and then looked to Daryl once more.

"What happened?" He asked.

Daryl almost didn't tell him but he figured someone would tell him anyway. Might as well tell the man his side of things before someone else could tell him.

"Gave Beth a knife. Patricia took it away. Said they could keep Beth safe without her havin' it. Think we'll be diggin' a hole for that girl 'fore the winter's done."

Rick sighed heavily. "I'll talk with Hershel."

Daryl shrugged. "Don't really care anymore about it one way or another."

And without another word or look to Rick, Daryl climbed the ladder up to the hayloft. Tossing his bag and crossbow to the side, he then laid down in the piles of hay and closed his eyes. He could smell the horses from below, hear their hooves on the wooden floorboards. He tightened his coat around himself. It was a little cold out here but at least it was quiet and he could breathe. Like he told Rick, he had a blanket and the hay and stuffed in his bag, he still had the scarf Beth made him. Maybe he'd wear it out here at night when no one could see him wear it.

He'd make sure he wouldn't be going to into the house again.

…

Daryl hadn't been in the house for two days and she definitely was keeping count. He was even taking his meals outside, Carol taking food out to him and him eating on the porch. Rick started to join him and Beth would watch through the window as the two talked about important things to him; things she would never know about.

Anytime Patricia was near, Beth couldn't help but glare at her. She didn't care if it was immature. Patricia had been out of line with the things she had said to Daryl and now, Daryl had banished himself; a self-imposed banishment that no one seemed to argue about. It made her furious. They all expected Daryl to keep them safe but they didn't care whether he was in the warmth of the house with them. He was taking his meals outside like a servant; like he wasn't good enough to eat with them.

Beth began eating upstairs in her bedroom just so she could get away from them all. She wanted to go outside and speak with Daryl but about what, she had absolutely no idea so she stayed inside and stayed away from him. She knew he probably wanted it that way.

She was keeping herself occupied with knitting. She was knitting at all hours and it seemed to be the only thing she did but she felt useful – especially when she saw the others wearing what she had made them. She had smiled for the entire day when she saw T-Dog wearing the red hat she had made for him and he had told her again and again how warm it was.

She was already wondering what she would do once she knitted everything she could. What else could she do that would show her pulling her weight around here?

She wished she still had her knife and that Daryl was able to teach her how to use it like he said he would. She wanted to learn but apparently, it didn't really matter what she wanted. Patricia had ignored her when she had taken the knife from her the instant she saw it looped on Beth's belt and when Beth had looked to Maggie for help, her sister seemed hesitant and she seemed almost ashamed to be agreeing with Patricia against Beth but she did. Even her daddy seemed hesitant to let her have a knife.

As if they were all worried that the instant she was anywhere by herself, she'd take that knife to her wrist immediately.

"Looks like they'll be buryin' you after all."

His words were still echoing in her mind. They never stopped and each time they rose up in her mind, Beth felt a rush of tears sting her eyes before she managed to blink them away again before any of them could fall. She refused to cry anymore no matter how true she thought Daryl's words were true.

She was going to die. Probably soon, too, because no one trusted her and because no one trusted her, no one thought that she was capable of keeping herself safe.

There was only one person who thought that maybe she was capable – or thought she could learn how to be – but he hadn't been in the house two days and Beth just kept herself in her bedroom. With the door open. She wasn't allowed to close it anymore.

…

Thank you very much for reading and if you read, please comment!