Re-edited. Apologies for the weird writing style, and I obviously own nothing. I just decided to randomly post this after the idea sprung to my head. Most of this was written while drinking copious amounts of alcohol. If you hate the idea of these two together explicitly…warning! I have more of story; it's not complete, just seeing if anyone was even interested in it. I'm not a writer, so I already know the narrative is isn't the best (again, drinking!).
Beth Greene never thought she'd have no idea how old she was. She guessed the current month was June or July based on the heat, but in Georgia you never really did know. Not that she cared too much anyway; it wasn't like it mattered much anymore. Maybe at the farm she would have gotten cake for her birthday, but they no longer had the luxury of the farm that her father worked so hard to give them.
Her past birthdays always ended up being on one of those sweltering summer days, the kind that felt like you might actually suffocate under the heavy air. They never had air conditioning at the farm, and yes, that was still luxurious especially compared to where they were now. But it wasn't like she was going to bitch about it, of course not! Was she going to complain to her dear father, who lost his wife, his eldest daughter, his farm and his leg? So she forced a smile every now and then, especially around him and her big sister Maggie so not to worry them. After you try to kill yourself people just don't look at you the same way anymore. And she knew that they'd think she'd try it again if she appeared as depressed as she was. But Beth gave that up, after everything that happened she couldn't do that to the family she had left, including the poor baby whose mother was dead and was being passed around to whoever would hold it.
Beth was also the first to realize how lucky she was to have, not only her blood family with her, but the others that came across the farm too. Rick's son Carl always tried to cheer her up when he caught her staring off, sitting on her bunk in the dark prison. He urged her to get up and get outside to go on checks around the perimeter, which was awfully sweet of him. It got her out of the dark at least into some fresh air, depending on how many walkers were nearby.
Walking beside him she suddenly became aware that he was about her height. 'When did that happen?' That led her questioning how much time had passed. 'How old is Carl, and how old am I?'
"Hey Carl, can you give us a hand?" Glenn shouted from back at the prison entrance.
"Sure thing," Carl glanced at her. "You're armed?" Just like his dad, checking on everyone.
She touched the gun in her back waistband, "Yep, I'll be fine," and watched him head back up, squinting hard in the bright sunlight. She really should go outside more and shielded her eyes with her hand, quite sure her pale skin was reflecting the sunlight badly enough it could attract walkers. But it was a nice day so she wandered down toward the fence, and saw Daryl's bike.
Beth smiled walking up to it; she wanted so badly to ride on the back of it sometime. It looked like fun; she closed her eyes with a sigh imagining the wind in her hair on a beautiful Georgia day. She glanced around checking for the owner before walking up closer. She was too scared to ever ask, that man was one of the most intimidating people she had ever met even though, she had seen first-hand, that he was a good, kind person.
Beth swung a leg over the bike and settled down into the seat for only a second before she sprung back up with a pained yelp. The black leather seat in the sun burned her thighs.
"Ow, ow," she muttered aloud, rubbing her legs, and then sat, this time much more gingerly, down on the bike again adjusting her shorts.
"How the hell does he ride this thing?" She giggled unable to even reach the handlebars comfortably. It was then Beth wondered where he was, she didn't see him inside earlier. Maybe out hunting, they were really lucky to have someone so good at that sort of thing. She felt a bit jealous of his ability to just go off on his own. It would be nice to just take a break from the prison even if it was just to hunt. No one ever even considered her to go on runs. It was always, "Beth watch the baby. Beth help cook dinner," not that she minded doing those sorts of things, but all the time?
She unconsciously scratched her nail against the leather of the seat, contemplating how they would never let her go; because they didn't think she could handle herself. Maybe that was the case a few years ago, but…she curled her lip into almost a snarl.
"But Carl can, can't he," she felt her good mood quickly slip away. They'd say he's hardened because he had to shoot his mom. But not only was her own mother dead, she also watched her oldest sister get torn apart while grasping on to her to help. A lump formed in her throat and her vision got a little hazy from her watery eyes. She glared out into the grass and woods, and finally let out a shaky breath that she didn't know she was holding.
"Knife would work better for that sort of thing."
She jumped at the familiar voice with the backwoods drawl, looking down and noticing she made a large scratch in the seat, digging at it while she reminisced.
"Shit!" She cursed before she could think; caught being on his bike was bad enough, but she also defaced it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." She hurried to get her leg over to get off the bike and stumbled.
Daryl caught her by the shoulders heaving her back upwards like a sack of potatoes before she fell on her face.
"Damn girl." He gave her a quick glance over to see if she was okay before he let her go.
Her face burned in embarrassment, which replaced the damage of his bike with the damage to her pride. She held her breath again, and tried to get a hold of herself with a deep inhale. She looked up into his intense blue eyes and felt helpless, and didn't know what to day.
"I didn't even know I was doing it, I was just thinkin' about stuff."
"Stuff?" He repositioned his crossbow that got disheveled when he caught her. "Not gonna lie, but Beth Greene is the last person I'd expect vandalizin' my things." Daryl saw her big blue eyes widen more in panic and quickly calmed her down. "I'm just joking. That bike's seen way worse anyway, you can see it ain't in mint condition. I've had more than one spill on it."
For some reason the thought of Daryl Dixon falling off his motorcycle made Beth smile.
"Think that's funny, Blondie?" He asked with a hint of a smirk.
She shook her head forcing it back, but failed miserably. "No sir," it felt weird saying that, but being brought up in a southern traditional household it was unconscious to be respectful when speaking to people older than herself. This had to be the most she had ever spoken to him ever. "Going hunting?" She looked at the crossbow, then winced at her realization, "that was a stupid question." Why was she feeling so weird with him? She certainly didn't get all embarrassed, nervous and choked up around Glenn and not too bad with Rick when she rarely spoke to him.
"You feelin' okay?" He narrowed his eyes a bit, as if trying to figure out what was off.
"Yeah, I'm just fine!" She said a little too loudly, and suddenly wanted the ground to just swallow her whole. "Ahem, I mean I'm fine," she said again, in a much more calm and controlled manner, not that it mattered when she just repeated yourself. 'Act cool, damn it!' She internally shouted and tried to straighten her slumped shoulders and pushed some pieces of blonde hair out of her face. 'No wonder everyone treats you like a kid.'
"Maybe…" Beth began to speak before she could talk herself out of it. Oh god what was she doing? "You can take me some time? Or, um, go on a ride? I mean whenever, not like now, but just to get out of here once in a…while?" She trailed off and made a face like she anticiapted getting slapped.
Daryl almost laughed in her face, but couldn't do that to the kid, not when she looked so damn hopeful. There was no way in hell Hershel would let his baby girl beyond the fence. And if Daryl let her do it, he was sure the old man would kick his ass, one leg or not.
"Tell ya what, you get your daddy to say yes, and I'll think about it," he said watching her slowly look back at him again. He was curious why she wanted to go anywhere with him if she was as scared of him as she was acting. And to his utter shock he saw a flash of anger in her blue eyes. That cherubic face of hers was thinning out and he suddenly didn't recognize the woman before him.
"Ask my daddy? Am I gonna have to do that forever? Why can't it be my decision?" She said without nerves or a shaky voice. "I'm pretty sure I'm old enough now. If Maggie and Carl have a choice then why don't I? Is it really because Maggie has Glenn and Carl is a boy?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Daryl said bluntly, not about to mince words when the obvious was pretty damn clear. "I never said it was right, but it's how it is now." She looked absolutely crestfallen, and almost hopeless, and losing that fire in her eye that he was now intrigued about. "Look here," he said getting her eyes back to his. "I sure as shit wouldn't want to be locked up all day neither, but you ain't going nowhere without permission. Why don't you talk to him first?"
She was silent for a second, "Fine," she said softly, seeming to have calmed herself down.
"Good, now get your ass back inside. You're already burnin', as pale as you are you should know better," he said with authority. "I mean good lord girl, at least wear a hat."
Beth was a little shocked then realized he really meant for her to get going.
"Didja hear me?" He looked up ahead, waiting for her to go.
"Y..yes," she answered a little taken aback and blushed, but hoped her sunburned face hid that.
"I'm sorry I didn't hear that right," he looked her down, but with a slightly teasing look in his eyes that she'd never seen before.
"Yes, sir," Beth answered and quickly turned to hide her smile; grinning as she ran the entire way back up the hill.
Here's a little warning, this story isn't going to be sweet or a traditional romance. I hope to make it funny, sexy, and angsty…if that's possible!