Daryl was quiet. Quieter than usual. He missed Jodie more than usual too. Beth was with him, but still he almost felt like he was lost without his little friend. Like he was a child who had been given a teddy bear and now he had lost it somewhere and it was nowhere to be found.

Beth still had hope and partly it reminded him of Jodie. This childlike faith. Hope. The innocence. That's what Jodie had been like.

He was sure she could survive outside for a while, even without him. He'd already seen that. But still...

She was just a child. She was fourteen and what if she was to face such rapists again, as she did in the past. She would not be able to defend herself against all of them. Maybe she would also be murdered or some other bad things.

He didn't want to imagine that. Beth didn't exactly make it better. Even if she still had hope, what was the point of looking for something you didn't know where to look? Or if you actually knew that you would never see them again.

So he just tried to concentrate on survival. On his and Beth's. Nothing else mattered. He didn't care anymore.

At least he tried to tell himself that until he believed it.

***************************************************

In the morning he had killed a snake, skinned it and roasted it over the fire. Both sat in silence around the tiny fireplace and ate.

Finally Beth broke the silence.

"I need a drink," she said almost hesitantly.

Without a word, Daryl threw to her a bottle of water and continued to eat.

"No, I mean a real drink. As in alcohol. I've never had one," she explained to him.

"Because of my dad, but he's not exactly here anymore, so...I thought we could go and find some," Beth told her idea, since Daryl didn't care, he just kept eating.

But Daryl didn't go for it. First she had insisted on finding the others for days, now she wanted to find alcohol? She must have been out of her mind! He didn't have time for that and decided not to waste an answer.

"Okay, well, enjoy your snake," she sighed, got up and took the hunting knife before she left the camp.

Daryl waited a moment to see if she changed her mind and came back. But since she seemed to make no attempt to return, he followed her with the crossbow. He found her just a few yards from the camp with the knife in her hand, where she was hiding behind a tree and had successfully distracted a few walkers.

When she turned to him, she was frightened at first, but then she looked at him unimpressed.

Without a word he turned around and went back to the camp. This time Beth followed him.

"I think we made it away. I am pretty sure, we have to go that way to find the...," Beth said before she bumped into the camp's homemade alarm system.

"What the Hell? You brought me back?! I'm not staying in this suck ass camp," she shouted angrily and gave Daryl the middle finger.

Then she turned and wanted to leave but Daryl grabbed her by the arm and held her.

"Hey, you've had your fun," he now said resolutely.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you feel anything? Yeah, you think everything is screwed. I guess that's a feeling," she hissed at him as she tore her arm off.

"So, so you want to spend the rest of ours lives staring into fire eating mud snakes? Screw that! We might as well do something! I can take care of myself and I am gonna get a damn drink," she hissed at him and stomped off.

For a moment, Daryl stopped and watched her. Then he looked back at the camp. Actually, she was right. There was nothing left for him and her here.

For a moment he thought he saw Jodie sitting by the fire, looking at him and then pointing her head in the direction Beth had stomped off.

"Go on", she seemed to be telling him. So he overcame his pride and followed her.

**************************************************

Finally they had arrived at a golf club.

Beth was apparently still determined to find alcohol.

"Golfers like to booze it up, right?" she said as she walked across the clearing towards the club.

Daryl didn't answer. What was all this searching for alcohol about? Did she want to live out her teenage fantasies now that her father had died?

Some walkers appeared at the edge of the clearing, but they were still far enough away.

"Come on," Beth just said and stomped on and Daryl followed her. He wasn't really comfortable with it.

In front of the golf club, however, Beth stopped a little uncertainly.

"There might be people inside," she said.

A dead walker was lying in front of the entrance. Beth climbed over him and jiggled the door while Daryl searched the walker. But a rattle interrupted the two. The small group of walkers was now a little larger and already closer to them.

Both ran to the back entrance, Daryl had taken a golf club with him to defend himself or open the door. The windows of the door were glued with paper so that nothing could be seen inside. Daryl put his finger to his lips and then quietly opened the door. He peered in and then nodded at Beth.

"Come on," he whispered softly and she followed him silently into the room.

Inside, it was one big mess. Clothes, chairs, closets, sleeping bags were scattered around the room and a few walkers were dangling from the ceiling. They had apparently hanged themselves, and stretched out their arms in a ruckle when they saw them.

In all the chaos Daryl found a working flashlight. He took a closer look at the walkers hanging from the ceiling. On the floor lay some corpses that had probably been dead for some time, since they already showed first signs of decomposition.

*******************************************

The search in the kitchen turned up nothing. There was nothing left to get and the only thing that happened was that Beth, with a bottle she had just found, had to defend herself against a walker who surprised her from the side.

She smashed the bottle on his head and finally killed him with the knife. When she saw Daryl standing next to her, who had just watched the whole thing, she hissed angrily, "Thanks for the help!"

"You said you could take care of yourself. You did," Daryl replied.

Then he turned away and left while Beth watched him angrily. Then she turned her gaze to the wall diagonally opposite her.

"Welcome to the dogtrot," it said.

And on the floor in front of her, several decomposed corpses lay side by side.

***************************************************

Daryl went ahead in the hallway. For a moment, he thought he saw Jodie next to him again in the light of his flashlight. She looked at him with a look that said, "That wasn't fair."

Daryl saw that a display case and a grandfather clock were in their way. He crawled underneath the display case and put the grandfather clock back up. It banged once and then it stopped again.

But they found something in the next room.

Daryl found a bowl of candy that he stuffed into his pockets and Beth found a top and a cardigan her size. She went into a corner and put on the clean clothes, but then she discovered something.

In one closet there was a half walker. The upper part of the body had been placed on the abdomen of a mannequin and the walker was dressed in a bra and a jacket. Around her neck hung a pearl necklace and a sign with the inscription: "Rich bitch".

With pity, Beth looked at the walker for a moment before she grabbed the body and tried to move it. Daryl, who had also noticed the dead, draped walker, watched it indifferently.

"Help me take her down," Beth asked him.

Even though it was no longer a human being, no one deserved to be draped so shamefully. Everyone deserved a certain decency, at least Beth had been raised that way. With Daryl, she didn't know for sure.

"It don't matter. She's dead," muttered Daryl.

"It does matter," said Beth, still trying to put the walker down.

Daryl blinked. Again, he saw Jodie standing next to Beth who looked at him with a pleading look.

"Go ahead. You wouldn't want this for you either," her look seemed to tell him.

He hesitated briefly, stood up and took a blanket, which he threw over the body.

"Here" he just said and covered the body so that it was at least no longer recognizable.

Beth smiled. It was a small beginning.

Daryl, however, was still uncomfortable. The fact that he kept seeing Jodie worried him. Not that he was still hallucinating or anything. Jodie was not here. Jodie was...dead? Alive? He didn't know and didn't want to think about it. The thought tied his throat.

As they stepped back into the hallway, the grandfather clock struck three times and both were startled by the sudden sound in the silence. Then it was silent for a moment and both relaxed again. But then the rattle could be heard. The grandfather clock had attracted some walkers who were still in the club.

"Move" Daryl hissed at her and both ran into a room that had apparently once been a bedroom. The walkers followed them and Beth ran to a closet while Daryl took his crossbow and waited briefly for the first walkers to sway in. Then he fired.

He hit the first one in the forehead, which immediately dropped dead, then kicked the next one against the closet and grabbed a golf club to hit him as hard as he could against his temples. Blood splashed. A second stroke and the walker laid dead at the ground, the club broke off and a part got stuck in the head. Daryl used the pointed end of the club to ram it into the forehead of the third walker, who also died instantly. The fourth one he kicked aside and the fifth one staggered towards him. Daryl held him away from him, took his hunting knife and thrust it through his eye, whereupon this walker also gave up. The fourth walker now staggered toward him again. Daryl picked up another golf club and began hitting the walker. Knocked him to the ground. It seemed as if he didn't really want to kill him. He just wanted to release his anger. His pain. He kept hitting him until he hit his face so hard that parts of his brain and face flew across the room and landed on Beth's cardigan.

Daryl gasped and for a moment, Beth's and his gaze met. She looked scared and exhausted. Then she just took off her new jacket again, disgusted.

***************************************

Both left the room through a second door and in the hallway Beth finally saw what she had been wanting all day.

A room with a bar.

"We made it," Beth said quietly. But there was no joy in her words.

She turned to Daryl, who looked at her in silence.

"I know you think it's stupid, and it probably is. "But... I don't care. All I wanted to do today was lay down and cry, but we don't get to do that. So... beat up walkers if that makes you feel better. I need to do this," she said just as an explanation and went to the bar.

So that was her explanation for all this? All this fuss over alcohol? Just because she didn't want to cry? And why was she attacking him now, too?

Beth entered the bar and walked over two corpses while looking for alcohol and finally discovered a bottle and took it with her.

Daryl smashed the window of a framed award on the wall and took the page out.

"Did you have to break the glass?" Beth complained about the unnecessary noise.

"No. You have your drink yet?" was his counter-question.

"No, but I found this," she sat down at the bar and put down the bottle.

"Peach schnapps. Is it good?", she then asked.

"No," was Daryl's answer as he walked past her.

"Well, it's the only thing left," said Beth, but Daryl didn't respond. He took some darts and started throwing them at the faces of the club members hanging from a picture on the wall.

He had never liked these rich bastards before. And now that everything had gone down the drain, there was no one left of them. What good had their wealth done them in the end? Nothing at all.

Meanwhile, Beth tried to find a clean glass. But soon she gave up and muttered only, "Who needs a glass?"

Then she looked at the bottle and tried to open it. But instead of opening it, she clasped the neck of the bottle and finally started to cry.

The alcohol wouldn't bring her dad back and he was dead. Forgetting didn't make it go away and Beth thought with shame that he would probably be very disappointed in her now when he saw what she was doing here. That she wanted to get drunk, just like he had done then.

She sobbed up, but tried to be quiet, not wanting any walker or Daryl to hear her.

When Daryl noticed her sobbing, he glanced at her hesitantly, threw his last darts and then went to her. He knew what Jodie would have told him if she had been here.

He took the bottle and threw it violently to the floor where it shattered.

He walked toward the exit.

"Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damned peach schnapps," he explained and opened the exit.

"Come on," he just said. Beth wiped away her tears and then followed him hesitantly.

**********************************************************

As he had promised, he now led Beth through the forest to a cabin that he had already spied out with Michonne.

He walked around the building with her, opened the door, and indeed. His guess was right on the money.

There were bottles of transparent liquid standing there. He collected some on a tray which he pressed into Beth's arms.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Moonshine," Daryl explained and took them into the cabin.

The shack was small, uncomfortable and also completely chaotic. Beth placed the tray on a table while Daryl checked the bathroom.

Then he took a reasonably clean glass, took one of the bottles and filled some of the alcohol into the glass.

"All right, that's a real first drink right there," he then said satisfied and handed the glass to Beth as she sat down.

She looked at the glass and then hesitated.

"What's the?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just... my Dad always said bad moonshine can make you blind," she then said.

"Ain't nothing worth seeing out there anymore anyway," Daryl replied only.

Beth hesitantly took a sip and pulled a face.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted," she said with a tortured smile.

Nevertheless, she drank the glass empty and reached for the bottle again.

"Second round's better," she said then with a grin.

"Slow down," Daryl just said.

"This one's for you," Beth then said, but Daryl declined.

"No, I am good."

"Why?"

"Somebody's got to keep watch," he explained.

"So what, you're like my chaperone now?" Beth asked.

"Just drink lots of water," Daryl said annoyed and walked past her.

The idea with the alcohol had probably not been a good one after all.

"Yes, Mr. Dixon," it sounded from Beth, like from a soldier to a commander.

***************************************************************

Daryl nailed up the window as best he could with a board he had found, while Beth looked around in the chaos.

He cursed softly and Beth giggled behind him as she discovered something. Next to the armchair in the room was a pink woman's figure in a pot, which was quite often used as an ashtray.

"Who'd into a store and walk out with this," she giggled.

"My dad, that's who. He's a dumbass. He'd set those on top of the TV set, use them as target practice," Daryl told her when he noticed what she found.

"He shoot things isiden your house?" Beth asked in surprise.

That Daryl didn't have an easy childhood had been clear to her but that extreme...she had never thought so.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, however, as if it was nothing more than that.

"It was just a bunch of junk anyway," he said with a shrug.

"That's how I knew what this was. That shed out there? My dad had a place just like this. You got your dumpster chair. That's for sitting in your drawers all summer, drinking. Got your fancy buckets. That's for spitting chaw in, after your old lady tells you to stop smoking," he explained and pointed to the individual objects that were in the room.

In his last statement, Beth had to laugh softly. Then Daryl took a newspaper and held it out to her.

"You got your Internet," he said.

Beth grinned as he threw the newspaper away.

Then they both listened up when they heard a noise from outside. A walker.

Daryl told Beth to sit still while he peered through the nailed-up window. It seemed to be just one walker. At least there was only one to see and Daryl didn't hear any more either.

He withdrew again.

"That's just one of them," he reassured her.

"Should we get it?"

"If he keeps making too much noise, yeah."

"Well, if we're gonna be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it," Beth then said and handed him the glass with the black fired one.

When he hesitated, she grinned.

"Unless you're too busy to chaperoning, Mr Dixon."

Then he took the gall and muttered, "Hell. Might as well make the best of it,."

He sat down next to her in the armchair, unscrewed the glass and lifted it almost mockingly to offend at the same moment as Beth.

"Home, sweet home," he said mockingly and drank.

And for a moment, he almost imagined he saw Jodie standing at the window, also smiling and toasting.

*********************************************************

Hi Guys,

I guess it went faster than expected with the translation. I hope you like it. I know that I actually rewrote the episode of season 4, but I thought it would be good to read everything from Daryl's point of view.

See you next time,

Love, Liz ;)