Sweet Revenge - Bethyl Fanfic

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The story I tell about Daryl and Beth is my own invention, and it is not purported, or believed, to be part of the Walking Dead story canon. It is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.

Chapter 3

Everyone but Rosita, who had volunteered to take watch, crowded into the shack. Daryl shut the door behind them, positioning his crossbow on his back. Beth stood next to him, by the table. Abraham was emptying the food they had onto the table, and Eugene was sitting on the bed, looking around the shack, blinking rapidly. "Got lucky a few weeks ago. Found a substantial stash of MRE's. This is what's left." Abraham told them.  

Beth looked at the boxed MRE's. Each had a label. There was spaghetti with meat sauce, cherry blueberry cobbler, clam chowder, chili macaroni, and chicken pesto pasta. There were also a couple condiment packages of grape jelly, and a bag of powdered lemon-line drink-mix. It wasn't much, but when they added Beth and Daryl's stash, everyone would eat.  

"I will take that cobbler." Eugene said, speaking for the first time since he entered the shack.  

Abraham shook his head. "You had cobbler yesterday. And the day before that, come to think of it."  

Daryl snatched the cobbler off the table, and handed it to Beth, claiming the chicken pesto pasta for himself. Abraham grinned, and tossed Eugune the clam chowder. Eugene looked down at the package, and frowned disappointedly. Beth was about to relinquish the cobbler Daryl had given her, when Eugene shrugged, smiled, ripped the package of clam chowder open, and started dumping the contents into his mouth.  

They made five separate portions of Beth and Daryl's food. Abraham went outside to bring Rosita her meal. The minute the door shut behind him, Beth leaned in toward Daryl, "What were you talking about? Is there really a missile silo?"  

Daryl glanced over her shoulder at Eugene before answering her in a low whisper she could barely hear. "Merle and I came across it 'fore we hooked up with the group. Checked it out again uh few runs back, thinkin' we might have a need to relocate. Tops pretty bad, but there's uh good chance it's secure below. Goin' t' take some fuckin' muscle to clear it though." Now she understood now why he'd half-heartedly made the offer to Abraham. Daryl expected they were going to need help clearing the silo.  

"But what about the Governor?" She hissed.  

He frowned. "You still want t' do that?"  

"Of course, I do. I was serious."  

He was looking her straight in the eyes, and she almost flinched as he reached up and swiped a loose hair out of her face, the back of his knuckle barely brushing her cheek. Her face tingled instantly, and she knew her face was turning bright red. "All right." He took his hand away, and grasped the strap of his crossbow - up by his shoulder - instead. "But there's more 'n one way to skin a cat."  

"What do you mean?" Her brain was all jumbled up by his rare gesture of affection, and she was having a hard time following.  

He looked over at Eugene again, "'Fore he died, Merle told me 'bout a hiding place the Governor showed him. Got uh rough idea of where it is. Passing near it on our way t' the silo." He rubbed his chin, glancing at the door then looked back at her. "We go by, scope the situation out, if he's in there we leave him alone, for now."  

"Leave him alone?" Her voice raised an octave, and Daryl gave her a warning look, gesturing with his eyes at Eugene. "Sorry," she squeaked. She risked glancing over her shoulder at their visitor. His chin was resting on his chest and she realized, with a pang of pity, he had fallen asleep sitting up.