Daryl Evolves

A Bethyl Fan Fiction.

This takes place after the episode Still in Season 4. It is a new story line that does not follow TWD plot.

Rated M for language and sexual situations.

Chapter 1: The Lower Depths

Daryl and Beth ran from the fire. Daryl grinned, a rarity, as the flames raged. He felt the heat, staring at the glare of the flames. The smell of wood burning filled his nostrils.

Their adrenaline soared after they lit the moonshine cabin on fire, recklessly drawing walkers toward them. They ran fast, fleeing the fire and walkers until they were completely out of breath, heaving for air. Walking hastily now, they entered a small clearing in the woods with tall trees around it and a small creek on one side.

"Let's stop here, set up camp for the night," Daryl said. "We have the water on one side as protection. From this tree facing out, we can see walkers or people coming toward us. We could have fair warning. We can climb the tree if we need to wait out a herd. I'll take first watch."

"I'm not sure I can climb a tree Daryl."

"I'll climb the tree. I got some rope. I can throw it down to ya."

"Unless it's a rope ladder, it's not gonna do me much good," Beth replied.

"We don't have a lot of options Beth. Let's stop here for the night. In the morning we'll look for shelter."

"I'm too wound up to sleep right now. I'll take first watch," Beth offered.

"Awright" Daryl replied. "Thanks," he said, knowing he meant it for more than her taking first watch.

Daryl felt emotional and physical fatigue after disclosing his secret to Beth. It was a first for him.

"I was nothing before the turn, a nobody, a redneck asshole," he told her.

He felt safe telling her in the moment on the porch of the cabin. They were drinking moonshine, so his defenses were lower. Now, he felt relieved, unburdened. One other person in the world knew his secret, his unworthiness.

Beth did not react the way he expected. He expected her disdain, but instead she offered empathy and support. She told him to burn down the fucking cabin, and to burn the past with it. She accepted him, knowing he was a nobody before.

"God, I was such a fucking prick to her since we left the prison," he thought, loathing himself.

Daryl lay down on a blanket using his pack for a pillow. He slept.

In his dream, Daryl envisioned the moonshine cabin on fire. He imagined his father in the cabin burning. He saw himself running from the cabin, surviving. He ran toward someone. It was Beth.

"Daryl this way," she called. He ran toward her. "C'mon," she said, extending him her hand.

He took her hand, and she led him away from the fire to safety.

At sun up Daryl was sitting, leaning against the tree, on watch. Beth stirred.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied.

She stretched the sleep off her by raising her arms upward, and rolling her neck in a circle.

"I need to wash up. I got so much walker blood on me from the country club. I feel pretty grungy." It was a hot, humid and sticky summer day. "I'm goin' in the creek," she said getting on her feet.

"Awright," Daryl replied, "I'll lookout."

"Maybe we can find some different clothes today. I'm gonna hate putting these dirty ones back on when I come out of the creek," Beth said.

"Awright," Daryl replied.

Beth walked to the creek. The ground sloped down to the creek giving her a cover of privacy. Lacking a towel, she planned to drip dry. Beth undressed, placing her clothes in a pile on the grass. She walked into the water up to her knees. It was cold, but getting the dirt off her body outweighed the cold temperature. She plunged her head under the water.

Beth enjoyed the feel of the cool water against the skin of her body. Her scalp cooled instantly. She loved the water on her face.

She washed each part of her body, despite her lack of soap. She started with her arms, rubbing each arm as if she held a bar of soap in her hand. She used her hand to massage her underarms. She moved on to her breasts, rubbing each one, feeling her body, touching her femininity.

She rubbed her stomach, her sides, her hips. She spread her legs and felt the cool water touching her skin between her folds. She liked the sensation of the cool water there. Using two fingers, she spread her folds between her legs, cleansing herself with the cool water.

Beth imagined Daryl's body, specifically his manhood, his head rubbing against her there. She felt lonely. Her heart ached with grief from loss. Her body yearned for comfort.

Beth continued, washing each thigh and her buttocks. She stroked her finger down the crack between her cheeks. She washed her kneecaps and calves, feet and toes.

Beth floated on her back, looking up at the sun. She treaded water and took in the scenery. The sunlight reflected off the water's surface. She heard sounds of nature, birds tweeting, and the noise of the water streaming lazily over the rocks. The woods smelled like pine, moss and moist soil. The beauty of nature and the cooling effect of the water lifted her mood a bit.

Beth dunked under the water. She massaged her scalp to wash her hair the best she could without shampoo. She rubbed hard to expel the scene playing in her head of the Governor decapitating her Dad with a sword. She wanted to press the stop button, but she couldn't get the reel to stop playing.

In washing herself, Beth attempted to purge her body of all stress and tension that she carried since running from the prison. Beth needed relief. She wished she could discard the armor of tension she wore since seeing her father killed, compounded by Daryl's ill humor since leaving the prison.

Beth waded over to where the depth of the water was just above her breasts. She spread her legs. Her body told her what it needed. There was no food, no water, no shelter, and no escape from the gloom. Her body messaged her the only relief available right now.

Beth slid two fingers down, past her navel, lower. Spreading her lips, she touched her slit. Beth stroked herself with the pads of two fingers. She stroked from her slit to her clit. She squatted down into a plie position gaining better access. Beth's clit throbbed, engorged with blood. Her fingers went where her body directed. She applied gentle, steady pressure with the pads of two fingers on her risen clit. She felt her pulse under her fingers.

She made imperceptibly small circles over her clit, and obeyed her body when it told her to circle faster. She squirmed, breathing quickly and shallowly as she felt the tension rising. A sensation of pleasure began its course over her body as she eagerly played with herself beckoning the release. Her toes tingled. She continued the circles, tension mounting.

Her orgasm hit. She stiffened, froze, then a release coursed through her body. She exhaled. Her clit vibrated. Her walls pulsed. She clenched her butt cheeks feeling the pleasure even on the pucker of her anus, clenching and releasing with the spasms of her orgasm.

Her body's tension oozed out of all the pores of her body. Her nipples tingled and she imagined beams of light shooting out of each nipple. Her mouth hung open, her jaw slack, her eyelids closed, her head tilted back, her face to the heavens. Her body throbbed and pulsated with pleasure as she kept her fingers in place, prolonging the pleasure as long as she could, coaxing out little aftershocks. She shuddered.

Beth hung there, suspended in her post orgasmic state, somewhere far away, above the clouds. She took a deep breath, and exhaled, expelling any tightness with the breath. Her breaths slowed. She felt calm as she reentered the earth's orbit, and became aware of the world once again. The pine smells and bird sounds brought her back.

Daryl kept watch, but couldn't see Beth from where he sat. He wanted to keep an eye on her. He stood up and picked up the cross bow sitting on the grass beside him. He walked to the top of the hill by the creek. The sun announced the arrival of another hot summer day. He hoped for rain to clear the humidity that hung in the air, resting on his skin like an unwelcome cloak.

"Ahem," Daryl cleared his throat.

Beth knew he was there. She heard him clear his throat signaling his presence.

Looking at Beth, Daryl had to admit she was tenacious. After losing her dad in a horrific manner, she held up well.

"I was a dick to her," he thought loathing himself. He felt a pain in his left chest, a pang of guilt. She was so small physically, and so young, a high school kid. He felt like a bully.

He knew his mood, his darkness could be brutal for others. He usually intended it, using it as a lash to push people away. After the loss of the prison, his dark and repelling carapace came to him without him summoning it.

Daryl thought of Beth's high school boyfriend Jimmy, and how gentle he was. He thought of Hershel, his kind and loving nature, how honorable he was, how he treated his daughters with love, not brutality.

"I was harsh compared to them," he realized.

He could not see any light within himself. On top of his quiet brooding, he hated himself for showing his temper to Beth over an asinine drinking game.

"How could I?" he agonized. She was the weakest physical member of the prison community. He brooded over his behavior, how he terrified her, the mean things he said, about her wrist and her singing. The recollection of his raised voice and harsh words echoed in his ears. He hated himself.

And after showing her his ugliness, she hugged him.

He felt nauseous. He sunk to the lower depths of his mind, listening to the negative voice in his head telling him how worthless he was, his just punishment, he thought.

"I'm comin' out," she announced.

Daryl turned his back and walked up the slope, giving Beth privacy.

They packed up what little stuff they took from the country club, and set out.