Season 5, Episode 13: Alexandria's welcoming party.
The house reminded him of childhood days.
Daryl Dixon stepped forward with hesitation, trying to gauge whether it was a good idea to get lost in the company of people who threw that welcome party for him and his measly band. It wasn't a bad idea, though. He knew some of them needed a time off the gore reality of this world. Maggie and Glen, Noah, Michonne, and Rick, especially Carl and Judith: they needed this. But he didn't feel like needing it himself. He'd never been to such an affair before. Being a kid, he only watched their neighbours on Christmas and Thanksgiving: bright lights, clanking silverware and glass, a salad and turkey laid on the long white-laced table, some boring piano score, and laughter. All of which the house they lived in never experienced.
He stopped, and took back the step he forwarded just seconds ago. Glancing at the house one more time, he finally retreated, thinking he'd be better served with a smoke.
He started leaving when a white figure, despite the dead of night, snatched his attention.
Daryl squinted his eyes and saw the figure hop off the back door and sprint towards an alley. Even when the only illumination came from the lonely streetlights, he knew that blonde ponytailed hair, the lithe body, and almost graceful movements. Beth!
His legs moved to march towards wherever she went: across the street and between the alley. He spotted her bright head disappearing on top of the wall. Adrenaline rushed to his head and he cursed. He briefly ran to go back to Rick's appointed house to grab his crossbow. He stopped, though, realizing that the seconds he wasted getting to his weapon would mean Beth would be farther. Shoving the thought aside and relying on his naked hands, he only wished they wouldn't encounter a walker since the only thing he brought was his cigar pack and a lighter.
The hell you doin' out there!
He started climbing the wall, aiming the toe of his shoe on the right dents. A dog started barking at the distance.
Up ahead a droplet kissed his hair. He looked up to find more of them plotting to soak him. A flash sparked across the sky, and he can now hear the rain rapping on the trees. He quickened his pace, and once his leg crossed the wall, took two wobbly steps down. Halfway through the descent, he jumped, mudding the rim of his newly Carol-ironed black jeans.
Dixon started running, following the freshly-stepped sprouting grass and broken twigs, not thinking to call her name out since he had nothing to defend himself as of the moment but his fists. And he didn't want to soil his leather jacket with stinking walker blood.
The white blouse appeared again, and he immediately ran towards it climbing up the watch tower. Good idea. He thought. Walkers don't climb ladders.
"C'mere!"
Beth briefly squealed when she felt the hand grab her ankle, forcing her to jump from the sixth ladder step. She immediately shoved the attacker away, grabbed a rock beside her feet, and was about to smash it on his head when—
"Stop!"
She was stunned to hear it talk. He quickly detached the rock from her hand, and hastily threw it. He was panting, and Beth tried to take a closer look at the face which was distorted with anger. The rain continued to fall. She was thankful it was regular rain, like the ones they gladly call on summer days. Her hair was getting damp. She gasped.
"Daryl?"
"Nah it's Michonne!" Daryl frantically waved his hands sidewards. "See? I have a fuckin' sword behind me!"
Beth continued to stare at him. "What...are you doing here?"
There was something unusual in her breath when she spoke, and Daryl clearly smelt it. "What are you doing here?!"
When she didn't answer, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her away from where she was standing. "Let's go. Save them reasons for later."
"It's raining!" She protested, trying to break free from his clutches without avail.
"Hell I know it's rainin'."
She clicked her tongue. "Daryl."
When he stopped dragging her, she finally pulled her arm away. "I'll go in after it rains, I promise. We mustn't get soaked down here."
He sighed and looked up. The rain was still on, and he can almost feel water invading his feet. The tower was the safest shack to wait as of the moment. They can't risk walkers trapping them on the nearby cabin stuffed with trash, where Rick claimed his gun was stolen. He remembered he had nothing to defend them. He turned to Beth.
"A'right. Start climbing."
She moved to the first steps and began to carry herself up, white knuckles appearing on her hand as she ascended. Daryl looked around for unusual movements, glad to have none. He looked up to see her almost reaching the top, and started following her up.
They reached the tower, and Daryl found her beside the windows with rusted bars and if not broken, cracked glass. Faint light from the streets inside the walls reached them, thankfully. He can only see her head to her waist, like she was a floating upper body, her lower limbs hidden from the shadows. A table rested on the corner, wide enough to accommodate food and ammos of whoever takes watch. The air reeked of ancient wood, mold, and damp concrete. The roof was tin and slightly ambushed with holes and water leaked in. But it was a better shade than anything else outside the wall.
She started wiping her face. In the dark, the only lucid material was her thin white blouse which slightly traced her curves and ran down to her lower hips, not so white anymore from the mud and leaf splatters. He can almost see how the rain drenched the cloth on her shoulders, beginning to trace the flesh underneath. The gray straps of her brassiere were almost visible, and he was careful not to be caught with his eyes wandering elsewhere below her collarbone. She wore leggings which, in the dark, he wasn't sure whether it were black or navy blue.
"What were ya thinkin?" Daryl asked in the same rough voice she was so familiar with.
She took time to consider, and leaned her back on the wall. He saw her looking at her wet doll shoes.
"Time alone."
"Am very enlightened."
She didn't reply, and instead raised her head towards him. He found a piece of plywood hanging from the ceiling, ripped it, and placed it on a corner to sit on.
"How are you, Dixon?"
He was nibbling on the inside wall of his lower lip when he comprehended her question. Underneath the stench of the place, he smelt the distinct one on her breath again. Booze.
"You been drinkin'?"
Beth laughed as she looked down, not the happy laugh though. Just an amused one. "Had to down a couple. They had much for everyone."
"You makin' it a hobby now?" He asked, remembering the night they gorged on booze before burning down the cabin. That was her first official friendship meeting with alcohol.
Beth was smiling faintly, her face was towards him but she was looking to the side. He was stunned to see the crystals on the edge of her eyes.
"Nah...just..."
Her face once again crumpled in pain, the same sight he witnessed when Herschel was—
"I miss him. Again." She sniffed, and sighed, trying to fight of the hollowing of her throat. "I know it's been months...but I...I still see my dad. I try to imagine him. You know..." she stopped to wipe her eyes. Daryl was fixated watching her.
"If only he's just lived longer...and...and came here," her voice was almost in a whisper, "he can finally rest, and stay...free from worries. Alexandria will have a doctor at least. Maybe Maggie and Glenn can have a baby. He can see his first grand kid."
Daryl looked down, shifting his knee up so his elbow can rest atop it. Words were his weakness, unless it was meant to offend. But this time the only thing he's good at is to listen, and it's not new to him. He can now hear the ceasing of her sniffs and sobs. The smile returned to her face after she wiped her eyes.
"You still haven't answered me, Daryl."
"'Bout what?" We ain't playing the dumb 'I neverrr—' thing again, are we?
"How are you?"
He cleared his throat before leaning his head on the wall behind him. "Fine."
"I'm very enlightened."
He did realize this was the first time they were left alone to talk, after the exchange at the hospital with both parties anxiously holding on to their guns. The catharsis that overwhelmed him was unforgettable, knowing that after weeks of losing her, he got to see her on the halls of Gradey Memorial. Every step she made to come nearer back to them made his fingers tremble harder he had to curl them to fists. He couldn't understand the gladness to have her back, and the anger when he sighted the dark red patch above her brow. Even the erratic loss on her weight inflicted offense on him, immediately getting the idea she was physically maltreated, and would probably go berserk if the maltreatment was more than physical.
When everyone left the building, the days that followed were too busy they almost acted like strangers. Either Maggie, Noah, or Carl were always around Beth. They exchanged glances, brief nods and smiles, and he actually found it uncomfortable being just like that. Until they were led to this town, he swore not to get close to her anymore.
Daryl rubbed his nascent moustache and waved her off. "You go first."
She sighed. Understanding the stubbornness was innate in him. "I—never got the chance to thank you, did I?"
"For what?"
"Saving me, and...feeding me...and all."
"Save it. Did it for your Dad."
She moved forward, and quite stumbled, almost jolting Daryl to hold her up but she was able to grab the edge of the window and leaned her hip on it. Someone on the outside can have a very clear view of her. "When I woke up at the hospital I...you were the first one I remembered." She laughed, a much happier one this time, but short-lived. "I asked everyone if they saw a man with me. If he was at the same place too. It was...funny."
Is it. "Why?"
"Because I get to remember you more than I remembered Daddy, or Maggie, at that time." She bit her lower lip and released again, "Maybe because you were the only one I'm sure was alive."
You're gonna be the last man standing. "How'd you know?"
"I just...feel it. Like you were still there. You...made me hopeful. And that when I'd get out of that place, you'd be the first one I'd look for."
Daryl twitched. Unsure if he was flattered or lied to.
"What about you, 'Mister' Dixon?" She sniffed again, "I'd be happy to know you thought of me the first morning you found out I was gone." She was slightly grinning, looking inquisitively at him.
Daryl ran a hand through his hair. "I chased you till that morning, you careless twip."
The smile on her face disappeared, replaced by guilt and reverence. "Oh."
"All night long, I tried to sniff out that son-of-a-bitch that was driving you. Though I ain't seen it no longer." He huffed, "T'was crazy. Ya made me."
"I was unconscious. Dawn said they found me on lying on a street."
"She's a bitch and a liar." He spat, "Saw the same car, that cross, saw lots of 'em on Gradey."
"I bet you went batshit." Beth giggled, "Maybe I was dead."
Daryl shot a venomous glare at her, as if she was a walker and he was ready of bury an arrow on her brains. "I was shit...worried."
"Why? You found Rick the next few days."
"You think that's stopped me looking for you?"
"I think you missed me when I was gone, Daryl Dixon."
"Screw you, Greene."
"So why did you follow me?"
"Why? WHY?" he stood.
"I mean—"
"You were the only one I had left! Ya happy?" There was a tightening in his lungs which signalled him to shut up now.
Beth covered her mouth, covered her smirk. "I meant to ask why you followed me here."
Daryl breathed in quick and looked away to hide the embarrassment clouding over his face. He can see S-T-U-P-I-D spelled in every corner of the tower. Every organ in his body revolted. He mentally punched himself.
Beth had the grace to drop the conversation, how she now loved to catch Daryl unaware. Thanks to the bottles she's been busy with at the welcome party.
Silence reigned and the rain began to weaken.
She shifted her head with a sigh, hopelessly irritated by her ponytail all messed up from the running. Not that she hadn't been used to ruffled hair, but the added wetness from the rain made her head feel heavier than her body and she didn't want to risk migraine in the morning. She pulled the rubber off the length of her bright damp hair and tousled the curls so that it fell across her shoulders.
His nose caught the faint spring scent of her shampoo, and seemed to find his eyes automatically drift from her face to where the tips of her curls rested. He soon realized his gaze was stranded on the flesh that began to reveal behind the wet fabric of her top, and snapped off only to find Beth's eyes on him, her lips curved into a small smile as if suppressing laughter. He felt his neck thicken and immediately looked away, clearing his throat. He started chewing on the wall of his mouth.
"I knew it."
He looked back at her and felt queasy with her geeky grin. Beth crossed her legs, right over left, and rested her twined fingers atop her right knee.
"Knew what?"
She squinted her eyes as if he was some blurry sight, her smile even widening. "You want me."
Dixon let out a brief hushed laughter of disbelief, looking at the floor as he shook his head. He buried his hands on his pockets and leaned his hind hip on the edge of the table. He couldn't believe it, but it was actually something that made his knees go jelly.
She continued with slow pace, some of her stresses hitting the wrong syllables.
"You want me when you first saw...(burp)...me," her tone played along, trying to sound as casual and as flirty as a 50-year-old virgin. "But I was with Jimmy and you actually thanked it that way because if I wasn't, you'd find yourself unable to stop climbing my roof and carrying me off."
Daryl sniffed, still looking at the darkened floor, sucking the walls of his mouth in only to stop himself from smiling.
"You..." Beth shifted her head to the side slightly, her eyes looking at a different direction, trying to think for another make-believe, "were so happy you ended up with me when the jail went down...you said it when you were asleep I had to cover my ears while you called out for me,"
"I ain't sleep talkin'."
"Oh but you do," she pointed her index finger at him, her eyebrows raised. And he knew the alcohol finally twisted the gears of her brain counter-clockwise. Minutes earlier she was moping over her dad and confessing how she thought of him while in captive.
"You do. You...(burp)...said you want to kiss me. And that you'd go crazy if you can't not kiss me."
"A'right. Time to get ya home girl." Daryl stood, removing one hand from his pocket, making a move to drag her to her feet and go back within the walls before everyone notices they were missing.
"Oh no no no." Beth waved her hands at him. Daryl abruptly stopped, trying to sense that she might fall from the window instead. He was within her reach this time, and she placed a hand atop his chest.
"Sta-(burp)...stay."
He was irrevocably amused, seeing the girl like this, and partly guilty for teaching her how to drink. She was such a sweet, sweet, timid babysitter who was so in love with her daddy. When the prison was sacked he saw slight evolutions with her attitude and that wasn't strange for him. He'd seen her draw the dirty finger in his face, and heard her curse as if the entire world was devoid of the church teachings she's been learning, but now she was more different and a part of him screams that this transformation had turned him on.
Beth watched her other hand rise by itself to rest on Daryl's chest. He tried his best to block the tension in his lungs, and instead find an incontrollable desire screaming from between his legs.
"Damn woman. How many did you down?" Daryl demanded, still smelling the spirits on her breath.
She looked at his chest as if his face had fallen there and stared like she hadn't heard anything.
"Don't you..." Beth continued, her voice volume down, almost a murmur, "want me? I mean..."
"Beth-"
"What?"
"Shut up. Don't force me to drag your skinny ass back."
"You're scared?"
"What?"
Beth looked up at him, not wanting to repeat her question any longer. He saw a sudden smear of confusion on her eyes and drowned him deeper on guilt.
"What?" Daryl was becoming the impatient one he had always been. He was on the verge of grabbing her waist and slinging her across his shoulder if that's what's needed to take her back. He can take her. He's carried her before and from the obvious loss of pounds on her, it would be easier. He wasn't sure if she was still playing mindfuck with him though, the emotions on her eyes seemed raw and unpractised.
"You're afraid to kiss me." She murmured.
"I ain't scared of nothin' lady."
"Then why don't you do it? I mean, we're alone." She sighed, looking up at him. He found himself involuntarily swallowing and sweat began gleaming on his scalp. He felt as if Merle was there, laughing and getting excited with whoops, screaming You go get that bitch screaming, lil brother!
She made fists on the zipped lines of his jacket. "I'm eighteen..."
"And I'm old enough to be your uncle. Gotta go." He held her wrists, momentarily awed by how thin they had become, and moved them away from his chest.
Beth squirmed her wrists away with a coy smile, mixing giggles with soft hiccups, and proceeded to move down from the edge of the window. "Yes sir..." she snorted, "you know I was just playing."
Daryl Dixon fell silent, a proper back-up for the dismay he's good in hiding. He turned his back on Beth, slowly letting the heat exhale from his body, and started towards the floor exit; his mind secretly blocking images of the blonde girl in ways which might have Herschel grow back his leg only to kick him in the groin.
He was near to stooping down for him to reach the first ladder step when Beth spoke.
"I would've wanted to kiss you though."
"Shut up, Beth." He can see her drunken smile even when she was behind him.
"Didn't you ever have a girlfriend, you sad, sad, ma—"
Daryl snapped as his legs shot behind to grab her cheeks and aggressively laid his lips on hers. He felt Beth's breath fiercely escape when he pushed her on the cold wall and pressed on her body as his hands quickly pinned her wrists above her head. He drank her innocence on the timid way she responded, if she ever responded at all. His eyes were close, electric shocks sending shivers all over his world.
Beth fell stiff; each cell on her body halted with jaws dropped. This time it was she who felt the heat accumulate on her navel, sending sensations down her bottom hip, blowing her mind to pieces. I was just playing. Her head was on replay and resistance, but her body was wax melting. I was just...
Finally Daryl let go of her mouth, which was left agape when he let go of her arms too. She had gleaming eyes set on him: a pallet of shock, regret, and even fear. He felt anger heighten on the way she looked at him. He wanted to slap the playing on her face and scream that that was what she wanted. That he is a man and to be seduced by a southern blonde belle with damp hair and shapely limbs would melt the Dixon in him. That he had been with women, and he was a redneck with a bull of a brother and a shit of a past which needed tending. He bit his lower lip and exhaled through his nose as he fixed the collar of his leather, unable to look at her eyes.
"Now pull your shit together and move."
All the neurons in his brain were screaming for him to leave immediately and get out of that tower, but his feet seemed glued to the floor. He wanted her to say something, to curse or slap and push him away and tell him never to show his face. He wanted her to feel harassed; unsafe when left alone with him, so he can finally get over it. She'd meet a nice, younger boy who doesn't feed on raw squirrels or roasted snakes and who actually shaves and clean-cuts his hair; some boy who'd drive pretty Beth Greene on a decent car instead of a noisy rusted bike. Some boy who—
"That's...it...?"
Daryl looked at her, every inch of his face puzzled. What the hell, Greene?
Beth touched her lips, her eyes inquiring, never leaving his.
Anger formula shot up, heat spreading on his head: a mixture of confusion, annoyance and...want.
"The hell's wrong with you, girl!?"
She started moving towards him, striding her long legs quickly as she could until they were only inches apart. Daryl started to step back, not until she reached out behind his neck, her fingers intertwining with his hair, and gently pulled down as her ankles went up.
He can almost hear his own heartbeats as if his chest was about to be drilled. The irony is that he could not actually gather the nerves to push her away. Their lips started to move slowly, as if trying to get to know each other, trying to familiarize the texture, the scent, the taste.
Beth hadn' t removed her hands behind his neck for all her concentration was located on his mouth. Until she slowly parted her face from his, her eyes shortly staring at his lips before looking at his eyes. Daryl could still feel her slowly exhaling when his body broke in an automatic mode, and again invaded her lips with his.
The pace pulled up to three levels when he tasted the booze on her tongue. It's as if his palms magically appeared on the surface of her waist, pushed down to her hips, and pulled her against him. She can almost feel the adrenaline wanting to pop her eyes off their sockets, and gasped when his hands squeezed on her behind, forcing her to rub against him, making her feel the hardening on his groin. She can smell the eagerness emitted by his body when his fingers tried to reach her down there.
They can only hear their muffled breaths. Beth broke the kiss first when she felt that all oxygen was sucked out of the place, and Daryl buried his face on her neck, trailing kisses along the soft white flesh, his hand clearing the strands of hair trying to block his path. She can feel the calluses on his fingers and cigarette scars on the back of his hands. Beth slightly jumped to wrap her legs around his waist, making her face tower above his. His legs started to push her towards the edge of the table and rested her hips there, his hands never leaving the small of her back, until it squeezed its way on top of her right breast.
Beth started pulling the leather jacket off his broad shoulders as she bit his lower lip, earning him a groan while the leather crumpled on the floor. She traced her fingers on the curves of his muscled arms, wiping off the surfacing sweat. He moved to catch her wrists and slowly laid her back on the table, almost gently. The girl closed her eyes when he broke contact with her mouth. She can feel a strange power earning its way to her middle and next found his lips hovering over her collarbone whilst his hands groped for the hem of her long blouse and started pulling it up, exposing her stomach.
A gasp escaped from her throat when she felt his face on her abdomen, his rough stubble tickling the skin, his long hair damping her flesh, and the tip of his tongue sending shockwaves all over her: bone or muscle.
Beth slowly stepped on a time machine with her past lovers. Young, tall, thin country boy Jimmy in his farm clothes, horseback riding and helping around the house. They've sure shared kisses behind trees, carving their names on the bark, and talking about how many kids they would raise. When the world went to shit, they've had half of their dreams shattered but nevertheless remained together, trying to architect a new future. And then he was gutted. Then there was Zach, that boy refuge from Woodbury whom she doesn't even know who his parents were. All she remembered was one morning he left to loot for goods, and on the same day, never came back.
And now here she finds herself alone with the man who was actually present when she loved and lost those two.
Beth waited further, but opened her eyes upon sensing that everything had stopped.
Daryl exhaled against her skin, his mouth on her shallow navel. He can feel her ribcage rising and falling with every breath. For seconds, he allowed his body to savour the peace crawling all over him as his face rested above her stomach. He had never felt this peaceful, not in a long time.
Slowly he rose and ran a hand across his hair, clearing his throat.
Beth sat up, particles of dust, wood chaff, and some cobwebs clung to her hair. She looked at Daryl leaning beside her, though all she can see is his back and his now exposed arms.
"This ain't right."
She heard him clearly, and was glad he couldn't see the disappointment wiped across her face. "Why?"
"Ya should want it." He reached for his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
Beth watched Dixon bite the cigar and hit the lighter twice before the little flame danced around the edge of the stick. She saw him inhale while pocketing the lighter. "You think I don't?" She swallowed. "Want it, I mean."
Daryl exhaled. A line of thin fog spewed from his mouth until it spread above his head. "I think you're nuts."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"How?"
"You're drunk."
"You've never done it with a drunk wo—"
"Hell it's you who ain't done itwith anyone before. Quit showing off like you know anythin' 'bout it."
Beth licked her lips and inhaled. Daryl bit the wall of his mouth, knowing he's hurt her, but it's all it takes to keep her safe from him then. He sensed her stand and pulled the hem of her blouse down.
"This ain't a game, Greene. Not for you. Especially." Daryl continued before breathing in through the stick.
"Why?" Beth started fixing her hair, pulling off the wood chaffs and dusting off the webs. "Because you still see me as that crying girl you're not-so-happy ending up with?"
"This what is about? Huh?" Daryl turned to face her, throwing the cigar on the floor without stepping on it. He pointed an index finger between her eyes, "Just 'bout proving ya ain't a kid anymore? You drink and run off alone and try to...to..." he waved his arms around, trying to find words that won't come out. Forget it. "What's this, some dumbass initiation of the cool-kids club? Huh? Bullshit."
He walked where his jacket lay and bent down to pick it.
Beth sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright...I'm sorry—"
"Sorry my ass." Daryl dusted the leather without looking at her. "Any other guy come runnin' after you and ya'd do the same."
She creased her brows before leaning her head side wards. "Wait." She tried not to smile, "Are you jealous, Dixon?"
Daryl paused. Everything around him seemed to magnify by the second. Am I? He felt the familiar thuds on his chest and cursed himself. He shouldn't have spoken. Any other guy come runnin'. Be it Noah or Grimes or Glenn. Ya do the same. "You're sick."
Beth smirked. "And you want me."
"I want you thinkin' straight next time you come seeking my attention."
She laughed, finally making the atmosphere easier to breathe in. "Like, no booze or whatever?"
He didn't respond but she can almost see him smile. The redneck looked briefly at her, reconciling the image of the scared girl who almost lost herself when her daddy died, who cursed at him and melted him with kindness at the same time, who burned a cabin for him to move on from his past, who might have been so scared when she found herself in a strange Atlanta hospital. Though ruined by the scar above her brow, he can still draw that pretty face, that long wavy blonde hair which reminds of him summer. He didn't see whether she grew inches, but the loss of her weight was dominant. He eyed her chest down to the small waist and felt the inward heat sting around his neck. It was bizarre that he never noticed how long her legs actually were, and how small her feet are. But he sees this woman entirely desirable, and he could have gotten further if only she wasn't so young, so fragile, and so...drunk.
"So you do want me, Daryl Dixon."
He averted his gaze. "Never."
"Why?"
He threw his black leather on her which she almost dropped. She did realize it was starting to get cold. The rain finally cleared.
"You're fat." Daryl went ahead to the floor exit after taking a glimpse of the grin that crossed Beth's face. "And ugly. Now move it."
******
AthenAres