AN: This is a prompt that I got from my good friend UltimateBethylFicList on Tumblr. This was meant to be a one shot but I have three different ideas for it so it's going to be a multi-chapter one shot haha. Also, the artwork for this story was provided by the INSANELY talented SPNFOX (also on Tumblr) so go check these ladies out! They both rock!

This one is ZA/AU. Keep an open mind.

Prompt: Beth is the one with scars on her back. Daryl has to help her let go of the past.

They'd been on the run together for some time. The world fell to shit and here she was, alone with a man that barely spoke to her and her family was dead. Her mother and brother had been bitten right after the turn and her father, naïve as he was, thought they were still alive in some capacity. She had begged him to end their suffering but her older half-sister, Maggie, was on his side. She believed they could be cured just as much as he did. When they got out of the barn and attacked her family, she didn't think about anything else and ran; survival the only thought running through her mind. She shed her tears and sought refuge with other groups but they hadn't worked out.

They never did.

Beth began to realize very early on that the dead weren't the only threats in this new world and she quickly adapted to that new lifestyle. Until she met him. He was just as alone as she had been and they both seemed to welcome the company, even if they refused to admit it.

He was on his own, his crossbow ready at all times for any unexpected danger that might show up around every turn, and the same untrusting view of the world she had. When he had seen her, covered in blood and mud, he showed her sympathy that she hadn't expected. In turn, she began to trust him as someone she might be able to survive with. He was smart and calculated.

His name was Daryl Dixon and he'd lost everyone, too. He'd told her his brother had been murdered by a man they had trusted and he had to put him down. Beth's heart ached for him and her family at the same time. She hadn't had the courage to stay back and keep her father and sister from turning into one of them, like he had.

Aside from telling each other about their lost loved ones, they didn't speak more than they needed to. The only words that passed between them where about where to stay for the night and what food they had to eat. This has been going on for almost a year and both seemed to be ok with keeping each other at arm's reach. Lord knows finding more than just companionship in the end of the world was low on everyone's priorities. He never asked about the year before she had found him and she was grateful. That was a year she wanted to desperately forget. There was too much pain tied to that year and she had the scars to prove it.

"Looks like a building up ahead. Think we can camp there tonight." Daryl mumbled and Beth nodded in approval as they made their way to the old concrete structure.

"What do you think it was?" She mused aloud.

"My guess is an old distillery."

"Wonder if there is anything left? I could use a drink." Beth responded with a chuckle. Daryl didn't acknowledge her and made his way closer to one of the rusted doors, his fist banging on the door like she's seen him do so many times before. He pushed open the door and they both listened for sounds of the dead within the walls. After a few minutes of silence, they made their way in and quickly began looking around.

"Think this'll do." Daryl said once the building was clear. The air was stale and sweltering from the Georgia heat outside. Beth stripped down to her boy short panties and camisole without a second thought. Daryl didn't mind as he went about looking for anything they could use. When she turned away from him, he eyed the lines showing just above the fabric of her shirt. He'd seen them before but never asked where they had come from.

"Think we could find some windows to open? The night air will make it feel so much better." She asked curiously. Daryl glanced up at the scaffold above with windows lining them.

"Seems safe enough. Come on, help me get em' open." She followed him as he made his way up the ladder and one by one they opened every window that would budge.

"Smells like rain." She muttered out loud for no real reason, her eyes scanning the dim room below them.

"Need to set the canisters outside to fill em." Without a word, she climbed back down and gathered the three Nalgene bottles, opened the lids, and set them outside of the door. They moved and worked in a peaceful silence until the last light of the day left the sky and encased them in darkness.

"Daryl?" She wandered through the darkness trying to find her way back to where they had decided to sleep for the night. It was nothing more than a few blankets on the ground.

"O'ere." He called back. "Found something." Beth followed the sound of his voice but without the light of the moon and their flashlights long since dead, she had no way of seeing just where he was. When a hand reached out and touched her arm she jumped on instinct and swung her knife in the direction of the body. A loud hiss broke the silence and she immediately realized what she had done.

"Oh, Daryl! I'm sorry!" She felt out for him and connected with the part of his arm her blade had just cut. She felt the warm liquid against the tips of her fingers.

"S'alright. Shouldn't'a scared ya." His gruff voice sounding much softer than it usually did.

"You ok?"

"Just a flesh wound. Come on." He reached out and took her hand to lead her back to where they had placed the blankets. "Found a trashcan and some paper so we can start a fire. Ain't much but at least we'll be able to see." Beth was relieved and followed without hesitation. She sat down and watched the silhouette of his body crumple papers and toss them into the pail. After a few minutes, a flame lit up through the darkness and soon the room was glowing with the amber light from the flames.

They sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes before Daryl pulled a bottle from his bag.

"Found this, too." He mumbled as he handed the bottle of Wild Turkey over to her. Beth stared at the bottle for a moment before unscrewing the lid and taking a large gulp of the bitter liquid and passing it back to Daryl. He mimicked her movements and took a large swig for himself.

"Ya know, my daddy was an alcoholic before my sister was born. He swore he'd never drink again. Never had so much as wine in the house." She could see the smirk pass across his lips, one of the few times he'd done so since she'd known him.

"My old man was a drunk, too. Beat the shit outta Merle. Took pity on me cause I was small, I reckon. Or cause my ma' was able to keep me safe. Got lucky, I guess." Beth sat in silence listening to him speak. She'd wondered if he'd ever spoken as many words to her in one sentence that didn't have anything to do with their survival.

She was about to speak when the heavens opened up and rain pelted down on the roof above them. Beth smiled and took the bottle from his hands for another long pull.

"Ya ever drink before?" Daryl asked, his hand reaching for the bottle once again. She smirked, the fuzzy feeling settling in quicker than she thought. "This ain't no sissy drink. Gotta pace yourself."

"I've handled much worse things than that shit, sir." She giggled as she turned and sauntered back to the door.

"Where ya goin'?" He was up on his feet, his crossbow in his hand before he could even finish his question.

"Rain is the closest thing I'm gunna get to a shower."

"Ain't smart." He protested.

"I'll take the knife. I'll be fine." She bent down and scooped the sheathed blade up into her hand and waived it in front of her face.

"Like hell ya are. If ya wanna get clean, I'm standin' watch."

"No!" She practically screamed at him, the thought of him seeing more of her than she wanted anyone to see scared her more than the dead. "I mean… I'll be fine. If anything happens I'll yell for ya." She quickly walked outside and closed the door behind her, giving him no chance to protest.

The rain seemed to be coming down in sheets and the minute she walked out from the small awning she was soaked. She quickly pulled off her camisole; leaving only her panties on to save some shred of decency should anyone happen upon her. She pulled her hair down from her ponytail and untied the braid until she could run her fingers through her long locks. She began to hum several songs as she lost track of the amount of time she stood under the falling rain.

Lightning began to dance across the sky and every few minutes she would get a quick flash that told her she was still alone in her solitude. She pulled her hair back over her right shoulder to cover her right breast as she ran her hands down her body to wash away the blood and dirt. She couldn't remember a time in her life that she had felt more relaxed and clean.

That feeling was short lived.

Her body went rigid as fingers reached out of the darkness and touched the marks on her back. She knew, without looking, that it was Daryl behind her. She turned her head to his expecting to see pity or disgust. However, his face was a stone mask, void of all emotion. She recoiled quickly.

"Don't." Her eyes were wild and feral. She turned her back away from him, her breast visible for seconds before she had the forethought to cover herself.

"Come in." He grunted as he turned and walked back into the stone building. Beth hesitated only for a moment before following her companion inside. She grabbed the long sleeved flannel she'd discarded earlier that afternoon and slipped it over her bare shoulders, leaving all but two buttons open. The chill of the night air the storm brought with it caused goose bumps to pimple her skin. She sat down by the fire, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her. She knew Daryl would never hurt her, without question or doubt. But she felt ashamed of herself for feeling so much in something so simple that her guard was down and he saw so much of her vulnerability.

They sat quietly for what felt like ages. Daryl fiddled with his crossbow, tightening strings and sharpening bolts, while Beth remained motionless by the fire. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Merle's back looked like that. The ol' man did it to 'im" Beth cast her eyes to him but he never looked at her as he spoke. "Ya don't wanna talk about it, s'fine. But ain't nothing to try and hide. Already knew they were there. Just didn't know how bad." Beth sucked in a sharp breath. "That girly top you prance around in hangs low on your back." He smirked, trying to break the tension.

"It happened after the turn. I met up with a group of guys that took me in after I left the farm. I was stupid enough to believe there were still good people out there. They looked after me for a while but when they decided I couldn't pull my own weight they thought I could be useful in other ways." Beth chanced a glance up at Daryl only to see his knuckles white as they gripped the shaft of his bolt tightly in his hand. "One of them tried to… force himself on me. He was the first person I ever killed. After that, they drug me to this old house and tied me up in a closet, my back exposed. They took turns every few days beating me with tied ropes until I could see the blood dripping down my leg. This went on for a week or two until I finally managed to break the bar I was tied to. I used it to smash their heads in."

"After that, I spent time with small groups with children and women. I never stayed long. I had been on my own for a few months when I found you." She swiped at a tear that fell from her eye quickly and angrily.

"What made ya trust me?" Daryl pondered out loud.

"Your silence. You didn't leer at me when we met or make me feel like I was worthless. I've learned things from you I never could from other people. I guess I felt like an equal for the first time in my life. You made me realize there are still good people in the world. I would be lost right now."

"Don't go puttin' me on a pedestal just yet, girl." He stood up and walked over to sit closer to her by the fire. His movements were rough and forced, like he was telling his body to move rather than letting it do what it wanted.

"What?" He cautiously put an arm around her shoulder and waited for her to lean against him. After a few awkward moments, she allowed herself to relax against the only person in this god forsaken world that made her feel safe.

"You're shiverin'." He mumbled. She hadn't realized the trembling in her legs and arms until he pointed it out. She willed her body to calm under the soothing touch and gentle embrace. After a few minutes, the shaking had subsided and her eyes began to sag. A yawn escaped her lips before she had a chance to stop it. "Sleep, I'll keep watch for now." He ordered. She was too tired to protest.

She woke several hours later to the crashing of thunder and the howling winds that beat against the walls. She sat up slowly only to realize she was alone. Daryl and his crossbow were gone. She felt the beginning stages of panic settle into her chest until she heard footsteps echo off the walls.

"Daryl?" She called out into the darkness.

"I'm here. Just had to close the windows on the other side. Rain was gettin' in." Her shoulders slumped as the tension evaporated from her body. He appeared in the fire light and tossed a few more crumpled pieces of paper and scraps of wood into the burning pail. She was surprised when he took his spot back on the floor next to her.

"You wanna sleep? I'll take watch."

"Nah, I think we're locked up tight. Got the door secured." He laid back on the ground, one arm behind his head and the other draped across his forehead. Beth relented and lay down next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as they had done so many nights before for warmth on cold nights.

"You think differently of me now?" She asked with apprehension.

"Nah, still the same stubborn ass girl I met in the woods." Daryl joked. Beth laughed softly. She stopped laughing when he dropped his arm and wrapped it around her waist. "You're tougher than ya look."