"The Governor rode right up to our gates!" he heard the crack in his voice and told himself he was just angry. "Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking-maybe cuz I gave up, that's on me." There was that crack again. He felt her reach for him and flinched away, breathing heavily. "And your dad" he shook his head, cursing the sudden onslaught of emotion. Fucking moonshine. "...maybe I coulda done something..."
Suddenly there were arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing him lightly. He tensed at first and shuddered with a silent sob. Her head rested between his shoulder blades and she hugged tighter. Faces flashed through his mind-Hershel, Sophia, Carol, Merle, Rick-and he just couldn't hold it in any longer. He knew how pathetic he probably sounded but Beth was the only one here and she was all he had left. His cries echoed in whimpers as Beth increased the pressure around him and Daryl Dixon finally allowed himself to cry.
Beth rocked him gently from behind, keeping her head on his back just below the neck. Her own chest tightened with each unrestrained sob that came from the hunters throat. After a few minutes, he calmed down and pulled away, instantly heading inside. She allowed him some time to regain his composure but soon followed after him, the uneasiness of being alone overcoming the desire to let Daryl be by himself.
He wiped a hand hastily over his face, reaching for a stone as she entered, and absently sharpening his knife. Beth grabbed the nearly empty jar of alcohol and handed it to him forcefully. "I never blamed myself for things that weren't my fault." she watched him stare in the jar and swirl the liquid, refusing to meet her eyes. She sat down next to him, her arm touching his, and brought the jar to his lips. "Now you drink it. The rest of it."
When he finally met her gaze, she felt her eyes well with tears upon seeing the pain reflecting from his. "Everything that happened was out of your control. You did what you could. None of it was your fault, Daryl." She pushed it up, touching the edge to his mouth. "So drink." Daryl closed his eyes and reluctantly downed the shot, quickly looking away when his chin trembled, threatening to break down again.
Beth relaxed and let her head fall onto his shoulder, inhaling deeply but not saying a word. As Daryl fought back the emotions she listened to his unsteady breathing slowly begin to become match hers. "I think we should have a little bit more." she mumbled aloud.
"You'll regret it by morning." his voice was thick, but more or less sounded back to normal. She lifted her head and shrugged.
"How can I say I have had my first drink without a hangover the next day?" She stood and collected two more jars.
"Just get water too."
"Yes, Mr. Dixon." she playfully responded, handing him a jar. A small smirk played across his face and he took a swig. Beth sat across from him and smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks.