A/N: This coincides with the opening scenes of episode 4 season 2.

2. 4. 1 When Beth Greene Met Daryl Dixon

Beth was grateful for the shade of the yellowwood tree as they sifted through the reddish-brown mud, collecting limestone rocks to place on Otis's empty gravesite. It had rained overnight, and the air had been left heavy and muggy and Beth found herself sweating profusely as she twisted and bent, and lifted and dropped the rocks into the wheelbarrow. The sweat collected on the back of her shoulders and tickled as it trailed along her arms and collected in her leather working gloves.

A deep rumbling sound, echoing above the chittering grasshoppers in the fields, caught her attention, and balancing the weight of the rocks she held in her hands in the air, she looked to the dirt road that led to her family's farm house.

They had been expecting company. Beth's father had been taking care of a little boy that Otis had accidently shot while out hunting. Beth had little to do with the Grimes family since they had arrived, but she knew they were travelling in a larger group, that had been arriving in drips and drabs over the last couple of days.

She also knew her father was none too happy to have them here. But he was nothing if not hospitable, and she knew he would do all that he could to help these strangers out.

One of the people who had arrived the day before, T-dog was his name, he dropped his rocks and jogged towards the house supporting his bandaged arm as his large frame tousled from side to side.

"That is so awesome." Jimmy, Beth's boyfriend, stepped away from her and removed his Bullhide raffia hat to get a better view of the road.

Beth watched the convoy of vehicles rounding the slope of the hill, led by a motorcycle, leaving dust and noise in its wake.

She screwed her nose up in disapproval. "It's dangerous, and loud, and obnoxious."

"Obnoxious?" Jimmy turned back to her, with his brows skewed in a look of confusion.

She couldn't tell if he didn't understand the definition of the word, or if he couldn't understand why she had chosen to use it. She wouldn't be too surprised if it were the former. Jimmy was sweet, but he wasn't the brightest of boys.

"It's all like; 'look at me I'm here'." Beth muttered in a condescending tone. The heat was starting to irritate her, she figured.

She eyed over the body saddled on the motorcycle, she couldn't make his features out from where she stood. "Bet he thinks he's real tough on that bike…with his no-sleeves."

Jimmy tossed the rock he was holding back below the tree. "You're not bein' very friendly Beth, what would your dad say?"

Beth huffed with bottom lip turned up, blowing a stream of much needed air over the clammy skin of her face. She wasn't being friendly, that wasn't like her, but so much had been going on in the last few months, she didn't really feel herself at all anymore.

"Daddy always told me to stay away from boys who looked like that." She flashed a grin towards Jimmy "...that's why I'm with you."

"C'mon, let's go show 'em some hospitality." Jimmy tugged her by the elbow, and Beth let her rocks fall into the nearby wheelbarrow. She allowed him to pull her over to the dirt path that led right up to the wrap around porch of the house; posts all covered in peeling, weathered, white paint.

The bike, suburban and RV pulled to a stop and two women and an older man exited the vehicles and strolled over to the congregation that had come out to greet them.

Beth watched as the motor-bike rider kicked out the stand and then with a hop, swung his leg over the saddle and kicked his boots into the ground. She had never seen a man who was so dirty. Even in the middle of harvest when the men had been out sweating and kicking up mud all day they didn't look that filthy.

The filthy man turned back to the bike and unhooked a metallic cross shaped object from the back of his bike. Beth had only ever seen a crossbow in movies before. She found herself suddenly intrigued by this redneck her daddy wouldn't normally want her to have anything to do with.

Beth's attentions were turned to the screeching as the screen door swung open and the Grimes' made their way across the porch and down the creaking stairs.

"How is he?" Asked the older looking man, with the grizzled white beard and stunned facial expression, shaded by the fisherman's bucket hat.

"He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people." Lori Grimes looked gratefully over at Beth's father, Hershel.

"And Shane." Rick Grimes added, referring to the lean and tanned man who had been the last one to see Otis alive. "We'd have lost Carl if not for him."

The man in the bucket hat stepped forward and gave Rick a brotherly hug.

"Thank God." One of the newcomers, a middle aged woman with greying cropped hair, stepped forward and hugged Lori. "We were so worried."

"How'd it happen?" The bucket hat wearing man asked Rick.

"Huntin' accident. That's all. Just a stupid accident."

"Well, can we go see him?"

Beth's father stepped forward as if defending his home from unwanted intruders. "Best not to, he needs his rest, why don't you people set up over by them trees" He gestured to the thicket of trees by the old rusted swing set that Beth had spent hours climbing all over when she was a little girl. "I'm guessin' you might need to be stayin' a while…while the boy recovers."

The newcomers turned around to examine the location he had pointed out and Beth's father ducked back inside the house. That wasn't like her daddy, to not introduce himself. Beth figured he must have a lot on his mind with all the sickness, and gunshot wounds he had been dealing with.

Beth stepped towards the bucket hat wearing man and extended a genial hand.

"Hi, I'm Beth. Hershel is my daddy."

The man took her hand and gave it a firm and friendly squeeze. "I'm Dale. Nice to meet you, Beth." Dale nodded to the door that Beth's father had just disappeared through. "We're all very grateful for what your daddy did for Carl."

Beth gave him a friendly smile and turned her attention to the other newcomers.

"Carol." The short haired woman stepped forward and shook Beth's hand.

"Andrea." The other woman, a beautiful blonde stepped forward. Beth thought that she looked like she would have been sophisticated before the turn. She had a city girl look about her.

She waited for the redneck to offer his name, but he simply eyed her from head to toe, while he chewed lightly on the side of his lip. The look made her feel as if she had somehow sprouted talons and wings overnight without her knowledge.

"Beth." She repeated, in case he didn't hear the first time.

His eyes flicked to Dale, to Andrea and then to Carol, and then leaning his crossbow against his thigh, he rubbed a grimy hand against his even grimier shirt and then extended it out to her.

"Daryl."