Sweet Revenge - Bethyl Fanfic

Chapter Twelve

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. 

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"The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying."  

-T.S. Eliot 

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Chapter Twelve

Colt, now a pup that came to Daryl's knee, with shiny brown hair, and a lithe, muscular body shape, darted off into the woods. "Where is he going?" Beth asked, stopping for a second to listen for sounds of walkers. There weren't many left after the big freeze, but they were still around, and lately they'd seen a steady increase compared to the silence and tranquility of the dead of winter when the walkers were freezing to the ground.  

"Caught the scent of sumthin'" Daryl said, stomping his cigarette butt out in the ground. They'd stopped for minute so Beth could catch her breath as they walked through the large field, in search of game.  

"I don't like it when he runs off like that."  

"You worry too much, woman. Smart dog, and he's fast." He hoisted the crossbow into the crook of his arm, and led the way in the direction Colt had gone, vanishing into the wood line.  

Abraham caught up with them as they entered the woods. "That mutt of yours wandered off again?"  

Daryl held up his fingers, and pointed into the forest, where a ray of light held a big buck standing before them. "Mutt just found your dinner." He whispered, kneeling down, to which they followed suit, concealing them behind a ridge. Daryl met Beth's eyes, and then he was quietly loading his crossbow. Beth felt something moist on her cheek.  

"Colt," she whispered, welcoming the large pup with a hug. She held him in place by the scruff of the neck, watching - still utterly in awe with Daryl in his hunting moments - as he took aim toward the buck. Daryl fired, and the arrow penetrated the Bucks neck, coming through the other side. The majestic creature swayed for a moment, before his legs collapsed beneath him.  

Abe let out a whoop, and Daryl gave a satisfactory grunt, reaching over to pet Colt, and meeting her eyes, seeing her smile, and touching her face for just a minute before he stood, and pulled her to her feet, briefly laying his warm hand on her round stomach. "Hope she's hungry for some venison."  

Beth made a face. She'd been experiencing on-going morning sickness, but it wasn't only in the mornings. It could be triggered by smells, or even the mention of certain foods. It was strange all the things that she had to avoid now, unless she was willing to lose her lunch. Still, it had been at least a couple of weeks since she'd had anything but preserved meat, and the idea of a full meal made her mouth water. "I think we both are?" She said, smiling up at him, squinting as she stepped to into a small beam of sunlight.  

"Is that a question or a statement?"  

"Oh, you never know with me these days." She followed the men over to the carcass.  

Abe laughed, "That's usually the way it is..."  

His comment was out of character for Abe, it was the kind of statement that made her want to ask about his past. "How the hell would you know?" Daryl crouched down, and pulled his bolt out of the deer. He stood, walking over to a nearby tree, and extracting his knife from his belt, he cut off a low hanging branch.  

He looked up, waiting for Abe's answer, as Beth was. Daryl always had a way of just coming right out and asking stuff, he wasn't a man of social eloquence, and she loved that about him. He was honest, through and through. "My wife was nine months pregnant, when it happened, that's how."