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“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little cold I guess.”
“Here,” Daryl said, grabbing the poncho from his pannier and wrapping it around Beth’s shoulders, “better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
It was a weird interaction. And not just because Daryl had started a conversation, a conversation about someone’s comfort level, no less, which was certainly weird in itself. No the weirdest part of the interaction, the interaction that was so quiet and casual that Maggie was certain she was the only one who’d seen it, was the poncho.
On the road to Terminus, since finding Glenn, Maggie had pretty much lived in that poncho. She had grown to love it, it was warm and comfortable and honestly, the worst part of the first few hours in the boxcar had been the lack of poncho. That and the intense fear.
Then they’d escaped and Maggie had seen the poncho again and her fist instinct had been to grab it, to wrap herself up in it. But Daryl had grabbed it first, reclaimed it as his own.
Then a few days later Tara commented on how weird it looked seeing the poncho on anyone other than Maggie.
Big mistake.
Daryl didn’t talk to her for three days. He barely spoke to Glenn for a week because he’d been the one with the audacity to let his wife wear the poncho.
Turns out Daryl Dixon was a little overprotective of his clothing.
And yet there Beth was, wrapped up in the poncho, warm and comfortable, and Daryl wasn’t only okay with it, he’d been the one to put it on her.
And Maggie was cold and uncomfortable in an old, grey, moth-eaten sweater they’d found in a house a few days ago.
Not that she was feeling bitter about the poncho or anything.
(Seriously, two days of silence because she dared to wear it when he wasn’t even there, but dear, sweet Beth is uncomfortable, why not just give her the damn thing.)
(She really wasn’t bitter though.)
But a few days passed and Maggie forgot about the poncho entirely. Well, she tried to, but it was hard to forget when her baby sister was constantly wearing it. But she didn’t think much of it.
Then she noticed the knife.
“What happened to you knife?” she asked, when Beth pulled Daryl’s knife, the one he had been using since before they’d even met, the one she was certain he wouldn’t be okay with Beth using, out of her belt while the two sisters were out hunting. Daryl had tried to argue that he and Beth should hunt together, he tried to argue that he and Beth should do everything together these days, Maggie tended to just put it down to him being protective. No one was quite over Atlanta yet. Maggie still woke up from nightmares screaming about what they had found there. Though those nights were still better than the ones where she was woken up by Beth’s screams. Everyone was protective over Beth, meanwhile Beth was needing protection less and less. That was why she was hunting with Maggie and not with Daryl.
“Why send Beth and Daryl out together when she can track as well as he can? Makes more sense to send two groups in different directions, get more hunting done now we have two capable trackers.”
And that’s how Maggie and Beth ended up in the middle of the Georgia woods discussing a knife.
“Oh, I guess I picked his one up by mistake, must have left it next to mine” Beth said, shrugging.
Accidentally stealing Daryl’s knife, to Maggie, didn’t seem like a shrug-off-able offense. It seemed more like a holy shit let’s run back to camp now and hide it in his pack and hope he never realizes you took it or he might flay you alive type offense.
“You don’t think he’ll mind?” Maggie asked, not even attempting to hide the surprise in her voice.
“I doubt it, I used to steal it all the time when it was just me and him.”
Right. That mysterious ‘when it was just me and him’ time. Maggie had spent weeks trying to glean the smallest bit of detail out of Beth about that time. All she’d gotten was that fire had become some sort of inside joke between the two of them, a joke she had absolutely no understanding of (all she knew is whenever someone used the word ‘fire’ they always looked at each other and Daryl always smirked and Beth’s eyes always lit up like it was Christmas morning), and they ended up in a funeral home where Beth got taken. And no one really seemed to like discussing the funeral home.
And both Beth and Daryl refused to answer any questions about that time beyond trivial details.
“You used to steal his knife?”
“Yeah, and his bow,” Beth said.
Okay that she had to have heard wrong. No one touched Daryl Dixon’s bow.
But Beth was suddenly, concentrating a lot harder, a finger on her lips telling Maggie to shut up as the trail they were tracking grew clearer with each step.
That night they ate venison for dinner and Beth told Daryl all about how they tracked down the deer and Daryl listened as though he’d never heard a hunting story before and this was the most interesting tale he’d ever been told. And then Beth fell asleep with his poncho around her shoulders and her head against his shoulder and Maggie had to wonder again just what had happened between them in that time when it was just her and him.
It was a week later when the idea finally hit Maggie. Well, it wasn’t so much Maggie’s idea as Glenn’s.
“Is she wearing his vest?” Maggie said, as they watched Daryl ride back to the camp, Beth’s arms around him and several bags of supplies tied up to his bike.
“Shit, they must be sleeping together,” Glenn had said, as casually as one might comment on the weather.
Maggie’s head snapped round immediately, mouth wide open as she stared at Glenn. That was preposterous. Beth and Daryl. Daryl and Beth. No way. Maggie would know.
“What?” Glenn said, staring back at his wife, “come on, you must see it?”
“They’re friends,” Maggie replied, “they bonded after the prison, that’s all,” she said, turning back to stare at her baby sister, holding Daryl’s hand as she got off the bike. Holding Daryl’s hand. That meant nothing, right?
“Right, just friends,” Glenn said, “remind me, how many days did he ignore you after the whole poncho thing?”
“He’s protective of his poncho,” Maggie said, turning to look at Glenn again.
“Gave it to Beth, though.”
“He’s protective of Beth.”
“Because he’s screwing her- Ow!” he said, as Maggie’s fist hit his arm.
“Don’t talk about my baby sister like that,” she said, glaring at him then turning to look back at Beth and Daryl. Though honestly she wasn’t sure ‘baby sister’ described Beth that well anymore. She was wearing a leather vest, that didn’t exactly scream ‘baby’. And the way Daryl was looking at her, and the way she was looking at him, nothing screamed ‘baby’ at all. Honestly it was all looking very adult. But there was no way Glenn was right, there was no way Beth and Daryl were having sex, no way at all, but, oh god, was Glenn right?
“Beth!” she yelled, standing up to walk over to her sister, “Beth, come on, I need to talk to you,” she said as she reached the two of them, taking a second to glare at Daryl, then pulling her away from the camp and prying ears and that damn redneck who wouldn’t stop staring at her baby sister.
“Maggie, what are you doing,” Beth said, as she let her sister drag her towards the edge of the trees, “Daryl needs help unloading the supplies.”
“Glenn can help him, I need to talk to you,” she said, letting go of Beth’s arm, “what’s the deal with you and Daryl?”
“What d’you mean?” she replied, confusion painted across her face.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Bethany Ann Greene,” Maggie replied, her hands on her hips, channeling her inner Annette, suddenly feeling very angry with her sister for a lie she didn’t even know if she’d told, “what is going on between you two?”
“Maggie I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Beth replied.
“So you’re gonna pretend like you’re not having sex with him?” she said. The expressions that crossed Beth’s face would have almost been comical, from surprised to shocked to offended to amused and back to surprised again.
“No,” she said, after a few seconds of silence.
“Right, so he just lets you wear his poncho for no reason whatsoever?” she asked, “and I don’t even want to know why y’all left with him wearin’ that vest ‘n came back with you wearin’ it.”
“He said the leather was extra protection for on the bike, just in case,” Beth replied, her tone getting steadily more aggressive, “and what’s the poncho got to do with anything?”
Right, Beth wasn’t there for the whole Maggie/Glenn/Daryl poncho ordeal.
“Well have you ever seen anyone else wear his poncho? Or his vest? Or use his damn knife?” Maggie said, her voice getting steadily higher with each question. But before Beth had a chance to answer the question, Sasha and Tyreese interrupted.
“Everything okay?” Sasha asked, looking between the two sisters.
“Yeah, d’you mind weighing in on an argument for us, Sasha?” Maggie asked, turning her attention from her sister to Sasha.
“Sure,” Sasha said, as Beth began protesting.
“What does it mean when a guy has a bunch of rules that he follows for everyone except one girl?” Maggie asked, ignoring Beth’s no’s and Maggie shut the hell up’s.
“They’re having sex,” Sasha replied, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, “why, who’s having sex?” Sasha said, apparently oblivious to Beth’s clear embarrassment and more interested in finding out the most recent gossip. They didn’t exactly have a lot to chat about these days, gossip was worth more than gold.
“Hey, maybe not,” Tyreese said, and for a second Beth looked like she could have kissed him, “guys don’t break all their rules just for sex, you know, with me and Karen, we never… we never got there. But I still would have done anything for her. Could just mean the guy’s in love.”
Maggie’s eyes widened.
Beth’s eyes widened.
Both Greene sisters turned to stare at the redneck still unloading supplies from his bike with Rick and Glenn’s help.
“Shit, Beth,” Maggie finally said, turning to look at her baby sister, “I thought you were just fucking him.”
“So did I,” Beth replied, barely louder than a whisper, still staring open mouthed at the man on the other side of the camp, her eyes filled with shock, a little confusion, and something that looked a lot like happiness.