I haven't written in forever, but ever since I started reading other Daryl/Beth fics, I really wanted to make one of my own. I know I'm not the best writer, but I'm hoping that I can improve. So please, if you have any suggestions or would like to comment on what I have so far, don't hesitate to leave a review.
There was a rustling of leaves and a brief moment of being suspended in time continuum, following with a loud thud as Beth Greene fell to the ground. Having the wind knocked out of her was an understatement, she was almost sure that she had sprained or broken something. Taking a deep breath, she heaved herself up off the familiar grassy floor that surrounded her home. As she stood, she took in account that all her body parts were functioning correctly and breathed a sigh of relief. However, she did sport quite a few scratches from tree limbs that were sharper than normal. She had been trying to get a better look of the newcomers approaching the farm house. Ever since that boy named Carl, had been shot, people were turning up left and right. Her Daddy sure wasn't happy about it, but felt obligated to help since Otis was the one who had shot the boy.
Shielding her eyes from the sun to get a better view, her eyes widened as the group approached. After the apocalypse began, she was almost sure that the only human beings she would ever see again were those of her kin. The group had a sort of unity about them, an unspoken bond that you could just see with the way that they walked. The boy's parents were already here, but these people added a large number to the group that they were forming. She ran up to to her house and found Maggie in the living room. "Who in the world are all those people, Maggie?" Beth questioned, almost unsure. If there was one thing she had picked up from the world ending, it was that you couldn't trust anyone but your own blood.
"Must be the people with Rick and Lori, I'm assumin'," Maggie drawled, standing up to get a better look through the window's blinds. Beth giggled.
"I don't think you have to worry about gettin' caught spyin' anymore Maggie, it's the apocalypse," She teased at her older sister, earning a roll of the eyes and a hair ruffle, a simple yet meaningful symbol of their sisterhood.
The two sisters walked outside as the group finally approached the property. They looked exhausted, Beth noted. Most of them carried weapons. One of them carrying a strange contraption that Beth was almost sure she had never seen before. It almost looked like a bow of sorts. Of course you could spot a gun for a gun, but other than that, Beth wasn't all too familiar with what you would find in an arsenal. Her eyes scanned to find the man who owned the strange weapon. His mouth was set in a tight line as he walked, being sure to keep a fair amount of distance between him and the rest of his group. He had dark brown hair that fell just past his ears and wore a leather jacket. She watched him carefully, noticing how his hands tightened into fists as they finally reached the farm house.
"Why are your arms all scratched up, Beth?" Maggie questioned, an eyebrow raised as she gestured her head towards the arms that hung limp at Beth's sides.
It took Beth a moment to decipher what her sister was saying to her, distracted by watching the angry man. She looked down at her sides and lifted her arms, inspecting them. There were quite a few scratch marks that ran from her wrist to her elbow, almost looking like someone had taken a pencil an etched tiny thin red lines into her arm. It almost looked like a work of art. Shaking her head, she shrugged. "Fell outta a tree."
A man stepped forward and introduced himself to Maggie as Shane. They invited the group inside, Beth catching one last glimpse of the leather jacket wearing man before hurrying off to find some clothes that would be of use to the newcomers. She heard a dim hum of people talking downstairs, it almost sounded like arguing. She hoped that these new people wouldn't upset the peaceful place they called their home. Before she left her bedroom, she impulsively glanced at herself in the mirror, checking for anything that might be out of place. Laughing to herself, she headed downstairs to see what all the commotion was about.
"I can't let you go out there, Shane, it's too risky," The ex-sheriff said with authority, shaking his head. Her Daddy needed some special medical supplies to preform a surgery on Rick's son. The supplies could only be found at their local school in an emergency ambulance that was nearby. They had heard that it was overrun by walkers. "I'll go myself," He suggested in a serious tone as he began to stand from where he sat. He swayed carelessly and would have fallen if her Daddy hadn't practically appeared outta thin air to steady him.
"You've lost a fine amount of blood, Rick," Hershel, her father, told the man. Rick had donated a lot of blood to keep his son going while her Daddy went through the process of removing a bullet from Carl's stomach. Luckily, the two were the same blood type.
"I'm going for sure," Otis said confidently, looking around the room for any signs of disapproval. His wife Patricia simply sighed and looked like she was holding back tears.
After a few more minutes of bickering, it was settled. Shane and Otis would go into town to get the supplies, and the rest of the group would wait for their return. Beth set out clothes and other things that the women of the group might find useful before heading off into the kitchen to help with dinner. She noticed that the man she had been watching earlier didn't say a word as the men argued on who would go. He simply watched with a stoic expression. She had been careful with her glances, not wanting him to catch her eyeing him. She was almost sure the slamming of their screen door was him as she sliced into a carrot.
The group had made a little camp of their own in their backyard, not wanting to invade on their family's privacy. Hershel accepted this offer greatly, still unsure about the unfamiliar bunch. Her daddy was a good Christian man though, and would not leave these people out for dead. There was only one condition that there not be guns on his property. There had been a small uproar from the black-haired man named Shane, but Rick had assured Hershel that they would respect his wishes.
Beth had been sent out to serve dinner to the group. Her and her sister had made some sort of vegetable stew from what they had left in their fridge. They were running low on fresh product, and soon they would have to find another source of food. Graciously accepting the amount of thanks she got from the people in the group, she finally got to see the rest of them up close. There was one woman with blonde hair named Andrea, who looked a little skeptical of the place. And there was another woman named Carol who had short grey hair, whose eyes were somber. She later found out that her daughter had gone missing. And then there was the mysterious man she had been sneaking glances at all day. When she handed him a bowl of stew, she didn't say anything at all and just watched him as he accepted it.
"Thanks, kid," He muttered, not even looking up at her. Beth was taken aback at the shortness of the man. She knew it couldn't have been something she said, since she didn't say anything. Maybe he was just as unsure about his group being here as Andrea, or the rest of her family.
"Mind if I ask your name?" Beth asked politely, training her green doe eyes on him. She could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat as he looked up at her.
"Daryl, the name's Daryl."