Hi everyone! This is my first TWD fan-fiction, inspired by the best almost-couple ever, Bethyl. I hope you like my story. I don't know how long it's going to be yet.

Daryl stared around the prison yard, frustrated. There was no frickin' privacy in this place. Before the world ended, whenever he'd get frustrated he'd get lit, but that gratification wasn't an option anymore. Nor was the vicious bar-brawl he'd then incite to vent his anger. He didn't miss the drinking and the fighting. He was a different sort of guy now. He had a place with good people and he could hold his own. But he needed to let of steam, and the way he did that now was to pound on some walkers.

He made a bee-line for the perimeter fence and sure enough there were a dozen or more of the fuckers, rattling the fence and doing their relentless throaty hiss. He got out his hunting knife and headed for the gates. He was going outside to face them. Through the fence was the easy way to do it. He wanted it the hard way today.

While he cut the walkers down he numbered his frustrations. His bike was playing up, and no matter how many hours he devoted to it he just couldn't get it to run right. Judith had been screaming all through the night and no one had been able to console her, not even Beth.

And Beth. She was the biggest pain in his ass. He could just imagine the hurt in those big blue eyes if she knew he thought of her that way. She was this weird combo of vulnerability and flint and he couldn't make her out. Her little boyfriends would get bit and die and she didn't flicker, but if Judith was crying or her sister was upset, or if he was pissed off about something, those doe-eyes would appear and he wouldn't be able to think straight for hours.

She was nice to him. What the hell?

When all the walkers were dead Daryl stalked back to the cells, covered in blood and sweat and breathing hard. The girl had no right to look at him that way, or smile at him. No damn right.

By sundown Daryl was almost in a good mood again. The late afternoon was cool and golden and he had the rare luxury at being at a loose end. He glanced toward the perimeter fence. Just a couple of walkers at the wire. And a lone figure holding a crowbar.

He recognised that lean body and blonde ponytail. What the hell was she doing just standing there doing nothing? As he watched she brought the bar up, hesitated, and brought it down again. Daryl chuckled to himself and walked down to the fence, his arms swinging.

'You're thinking about it too much,' he called when he was about thirty feet away. She looked up, her expression annoyed as he closed the gap between them.

She turned those big blue eyes on him. 'I'm not thinking about it too much. I'm working out the best way to do it.'

'It ain't rocket science. Just hold it up and shove.'

She turned back to the fence, raised the bar and pushed it at the walker standing right in front of her. She missed.

Daryl snorted with laughter. 'What are you doing out here, anyway? Is this fodder for your diary? "Dear Diary, today I killed my very own walker,"' he mocked. He saw her jaw tighten and felt ashamed for making fun of her. 'You know, you could have asked me to show you how. I would have helped,' he said, serious now.

She shot him a narrow look. 'Why, so you could mock me even more?'

His hand twisted at his side, wanting to reach out to her, but resisting it at the same time. He should apologise, but having her angry at him might be the solution to his problem. She wasn't looking at him with soft eyes now.

He turned and stalked away.

'Only people who can survive have any worth,' she called after him. 'You know that as well as I do.'

He stopped in his tracks, thinking. Something clicked in his mind. He turned back. 'Is that why you didn't cry over your little boyfriends? Because once they were dead they were worthless? Beth, you can't think like that.'

'What, like how the rest of you think, you mean? I ain't some Disney princess that you all get to keep safe so you feel better about the crappy things you have to do. I'm a throwback to before. I'm useless, and I'm sick of it.'

'Why are you so anxious to change?' he asked, his voice rough with feeling. 'You're young. You got years ahead of you to collect bad memories and get callous and damaged like the rest of us. Some people might like keeping you safe. Makes 'em feel good.'

She hurled the crowbar onto the grass. 'I ain't here to make other people feel good.'

He could see tears shining in her eyes.

'Well, you do make people feel good,' he said, 'whether you like it or not.' He stalked back up the hill, leaving standing at the fence.

The next morning Daryl finally got his bike fixed and roared out of camp. He needed to push the engine on a long ride to be sure it was sound. And he needed to get far away from Beth. What the hell had possessed him to say that she made people feel good? The girl wasn't an idiot – she was going to guess he meant him. He was probably diary fodder by now, he thought cynically.

Then he tamped the thought down. Being nasty and dumb wasn't who he was anymore. He knew how to handle his frustrations, and while Beth added to them, she was also one of the things that made this whole shitty situation worthwhile.

The main thing, if he was honest.

He didn't need to kiss her, or hold her in his arms. He didn't need to know what it would be like to run his fingers up the back of her neck and into that thick blonde hair. He'd thought about it, that was for sure. Late at night when everyone was asleep, and there was nothing but his thoughts to keep him occupied. Sure beat thinking about the walkers and all the dead things he'd seen. Sure beat thinking about before, too, and the beatings he used to catch and the loner he'd grown up to be.

Thinking about her pretty smile was all her needed. Nothing else. All he needed was to know that she was there, at the camp, with him knowing she was safe.

Daryl came to a flat stretch of road, gunned the engine and it let out a roar as he tore along the bitumen.

He was on his way back to camp when a couple of walkers crossed in front of him. They staggered with purpose. That could only mean one thing: they'd seen something, maybe someone. He cut the engines and listened.

A scream rent the air. Daryl was off his bike and running, pulling his crossbow off his lap. He thought he'd recognised that scream. He prayed he hadn't.

There was a flash of blonde hair in the trees, and he doubled his speed. 'Get away from her, you fucking biters,' he yelled, hoping to distract the half-dozen walkers that were surrounding Beth. As he watched she brought her long, heavy knife down on the skull of a walker, and down it went. She staggered under the weight of the weapon, clearly awkward holding it but fear making her determined. He fired three bolts in quick succession and down another three went down. One of the remaining walkers snagged Beth's t-shirt in its clawed hand and its teeth snapped shut close to her ear. To her credit she didn't scream, but she couldn't do anything else, either, as off-balance as she was. Daryl yanked his knife from his belt, lunged, and thrust the blade through the walker's eye. The last one grabbed him from behind, its teeth snapping. He elbowed it in the face with all his strength and down it went. He was on it at once, his knee on its chest as he drove the blade into its skull.

Daryl stood, breathing hard. He looked at Beth standing in a circle of dead walkers with her hands bloodied. He hurled his knife on the grass.

'Jesus fucking Christ. Jesus fucking Christ,' he said, clenching his fists and turning away from her. She could have been killed. She would have been killed if he hadn't stopped when he'd seen those walkers.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Beth bend down and wipe the blade of her knife on the grass, her hands shaking. She was scared. Good. She needed to remember that feeling next time she felt like running off into the forest alone. What the hell had she been thinking? Was this his fault for making fun of her at the fence?

'You going to yell at me?' she asked in a tremulous voice. He glanced up at those big, round eyes. He didn't yell at women, so that wasn't an option. But he couldn't speak calmly to her either, not in the state he was in. It would be better for both of them if he just kept his mouth shut.

'No,' he said tightly. 'But your daddy and sister are going to do that till your ears bleed when you get back. Come on.' He snatched up his crossbow and knife and stalked back to his bike. He swung a leg over the seat and sat down. 'Get on,' he growled when she appeared at his side.

She hesitated. 'I just wanted to –'

He fixed her with a steely look. If she prodded him and made him talk he wasn't going to be able to hold himself back. She'd been so incredibly stupid and he could hardly keep a hold on all the things he wanted to say to her. Sure, she was probably going through some shit. She probably wouldn't have survived for this long if it hadn't been for her daddy keeping her on that farm and inside that house. But instead of being grateful for that she was acting like a brat.

She shook her head. 'You wouldn't understand.'

That needled him. 'No. I wouldn't.' He ground out the words through his teeth. 'I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be spoiled in a world like this, but I was wrong. You ain't got no gratitude. You're selfish.'

Her mouth fell open. 'Selfish? I'm trying to do my bit. That's why I came out here.'

'And you nearly got yourself killed. You've got family. What do you think it would do to them if you showed up at the fence as a walker, bits hanging off you? Don't you see that having people who love you is a responsibility, not a privilege?'

Beth folded her arms. 'You've sure thought about this a lot for someone like you.'

His eyes narrowed. 'Someone like me? And what's that?'

Her face turned an angry pink colour and she looked down. 'I have my family. Carl has Rick,' she muttered.

'And I don't have anyone?' Like he needed that pointed out to him.

She didn't answer.

'You're right. I don't have anyone. I never did. That's meant I've had to rely on myself with no one to look out for me.'

'You're lucky,' she said in a small voice.

He got off his bike. 'What the hell are you talking about, girl? You think I'm lucky?'

She flung her arms wide. 'You're free! You know who you are. You live in this world without fear.'

How wrong she was. When he'd seen her surrounded by walkers he'd never been so afraid in his life. But this wasn't about him, it was about her. So, she was afraid. He could understand that. Some of his temper cooled as he looked at her. She was a good person. One of the best, really. She'd gone through some shitty times and had the scars on her wrists to prove it, but she never felt sorry for herself or brought anyone else down. Never hurt anybody. He thought about his own scars, inside and out. He wished he could say the same thing about himself.

But she was letting her fear make her do dumb things, and he needed to put a stop to that. 'Everyone's afraid. Not everyone's stupid.' But he said this lightly and was rewarded with a small smile. 'What say I teach you some things properly? Shooting. How to work the fence.' As soon as he said it he wished he could take it back. Was he forgetting how restless and distracted she made him feel? Besides, it wasn't on him to teach the girl. He had shit to do, and he didn't know how her daddy and sister would take it if he taught Beth how to be a killer. They seemed to like her inside with the baby.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide.

Oh, Christ …

'Really, you'd do that? Without making fun of me?'

She looked so eager that he didn't have it in him to take it back. What the hell was she doing to him? 'If you like,' he said gruffly. Maybe she'd lose interest in a day or two. 'Now come on, I'm taking you back.'

They both got back on the bike. Beth sat close behind him, her hands resting lightly on his waist. He drove slowly, wishing that they were miles from camp and he could spend hours like this, with the wind in his hair and this girl behind him. She had a real spark, he realised. He wondered how long it would last until this world beat it out of her again.

Sooner than he wanted they were riding through the prison gates and up to the prison yard. Beth got off the bike but one of her hands stayed resting on the leather covering his muscled ribs. He half turned toward her, looking up at her. She was so close. He knew that if he put her arms around her, pulled her close to him, he could steal a kiss from her soft mouth. He was thinking about it. He was sure thinking about it.

'Beth?'

Beth started, dropping her hand and looking round. Maggie was standing in the doorway to the cell blocks, her arms folded and a look of stark disapproval on her face. 'Do you wanna come here, please?'

'O-Okay,' Beth said, her cheeks flushing red.

Daryl ground his teeth. What right did Maggie have to embarrass Beth like that? They hadn't done anything wrong. He'd just thought about kissing her. He hadn't actually done it, and he wouldn't have done it.

Beth disappeared inside and Maggie stepped forward. 'What was she doing on your bike?'

'We were on a run.' Better that Maggie didn't know the truth. There was no harm done, and Maggie would go ballistic at her sister if she found out.

Maggie's eyes narrowed. 'I don't see any supplies. Beth didn't have any either. Where did you go?'

Daryl swung off his bike and kicked down the stand. She was really starting to irritate him, but he held his temper in check. Maggie was just protective, same as him. 'Just around,' he said, fixing her with a hard look.

Back off, lady.

That shut her up, but only for a moment. He saw his expression had made her angrier than ever. She nodded slowly. 'I've got your measure, Daryl Dixon.'

He stepped toward her. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

The elder Greene sister could look real unpleasant when she wanted to. 'You're an opportunist. You probably couldn't believe your luck when the world ended. Suddenly you're not at the bottom of the heap anymore. You're at the top.' She glanced meaningfully at the crossbow strapped to his back, the bike, the muscles of his exposed arms.

Damn, she could talk real unpleasant, too.

'You would never have looked twice at a girl like Beth before.'

No, he wouldn't have. Because never would have crossed path with a girl like Beth before. She grew up in a big fancy house that he'd never even felt like he had a right to step into. He was redneck through and through. A scrapper. A survivor. Maggie was right. He didn't like it, but this world was made for him. This twisted, violent world. What the hell did that say about him?

Maggie went on, 'And I don't like you looking at her now. Beth's young, and she's barely coping, but you thrive in this world, and that makes me think twice about you. I saw what was in your eyes just now. You were going to take advantage of her vulnerability.'

Daryl curled his fingers into fists but didn't say anything. He would never do anything so despicable. He wouldn't.

'We can never go back to the way it was before but that's no reason screw with the natural order of things.' Maggie emphasised her words with a long, hard look that cut straight to Daryl's core. Then she went inside.

Daryl turned back to his bike. She was right. Beth wasn't for him. When he used his head he knew that. Trouble was, he wasn't much good at using his head around Beth, and Maggie knew it. Fuck, he was in trouble.

So what did you think? I hope you liked it, please leave me a comment with your thoughts positive or critical. Should I make this a long story or just a couple of chapters? I have a few ideas for it.