A/N: This was written for a challenge made by the lovely and talented eReedus. Beth and Daryl, stuck in a trunk. Sexiness ensues. Because it's me, I had to add a bit of drama-rama and angst. I hope it'll do.

Bethyl SMUT and squishy goodness lies herein. There is graphic sexy stuff and thangs, bad language, and references to the physical abuse we believe Daryl may have suffered as a child – some of which you may also consider graphic. If you believe any of these subjects may disturb you, please skip this story and stick to something with a lighter rating. You have been warned.

Oh, this story features lyrics from "Believe" by Mumford & Sons, as the challenge stipulated. I hope you enjoy! If so, please review!

Love, Lola

Say Something

Daryl had been here before. Well, not here exactly…but almost exactly. Locked away and hidden, but only barely, while a raging storm and certain suffering and possible death scratched and banged mere feet away.

The stinking breath and general reeking decay of the walkers outside wafted in through the gap in the trunk hatch with every puff of the stormy air. The rain did nothing to improve the air quality. It only gave the stench a boggy damp tinge, almost like fermentation. Like his father's rancid whiskey breath. Or maybe that was just Daryl's vivid memory calling back the flavor of his father's wrath in this altogether similar but different moment of danger.

He and Beth had run from the prison until there was nothing left in them. The walker numbers were too high, neither of them could continue any further, and there had been nowhere else to hide. He had tucked them into the trunk of this car in desperation. Daryl hadn't really considered it until he finished tying off the trunk hatch, effectively locking them in…he hoped. When he did think about it he realized this scenario was all too familiar…

Daryl had once hidden in his mother's hope chest when he was a child. He had squeezed himself in, just in time… like now, and cowered while his bastard of a father had raged about the house searching for him.

All too suddenly, those vivid memories flooded back to Daryl. He was a child again, locked in that chest. Suffocating. The wretched smell of that old shack they called a home. His father's violence permeating the air, making it even harder to breathe. Daryl had thought he would literally smother squeezed away in that hope chest, but he had figured it was a better way to die than being beaten to death.

When the walkers started to swarm outside, beating and banging against the exterior of the old car, Daryl didn't hear or see them. Even though his eyes were wide, staring out the gap, Daryl saw only the past, heard only his father's vile words and forceful destruction surrounding him…berating him…threatening his impending doom. Trying his damnedest to rid himself of his youngest "fucking bastard leech". Daryl started to hyperventilate just as he had back then.

Will Dixon had ripped the top off the hope chest, destroying it like everything else he touched…Daryl included. That night, he had beaten his already nearly-suffocated son to the brink of death. When he had finally tired of the effort, Will hadn't cared at all to leave his boy lying on the musty, moldy, carpet in a pool of his own blood. Rasping tiny breaths through blood-filled lungs, tears streaming down his tiny dirty face, Daryl prayed for his mom to come back to life and at least cradle him in her arms for comfort. But there had been no comfort for a small little broken boy. There was only fear and pain. Those were the only rewards he ever got when his father hunted him down and discovered the hiding spot in which he was cowering.

Now…this time, here in the trunk of the car, it wasn't his father that he was sheltering from. It was those damn dead things. Daryl hadn't lost his mind…yet. Logically, he knew he wasn't 9 years old any more. He knew his asshole father was long dead. He was a grown, responsible, man who had earned his place in a new society, built a home and a family, and made a career for himself as a hunter, a protector. He wasn't back there in that hell from his childhood. He was bigger than that. Stronger than that. Capable and loved.

But Daryl's past still found him. He was too physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted now to sort out the swirling fog of fear and misery that was drowning him right now. He had everything. But now it was gone, wasn't it? Daryl had lost everything he had worked so hard for. His family was likely dead. He was a no one. He had nothing. He was a nothing. Just like back then. The sounds were the same, the smell was the same, and the incapacitating emotional terror and shame was the same. The sensory cocktail transported Daryl back to the tender age of 9 and he was all but lost as he pulled his knees to his chest and cowered in the trunk of the old Impala.

Daryl was absorbed in the memory of one particularly awful night when he had hidden under Merle's bed to hide from the violence. It hadn't worked, of course. Daryl knew what was coming, but he lived it out again in his head. He lay curled in on himself amongst Merle's half empty Jack bottles and pornos, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands over his ears, praying for some saving grace.

The difference this time was that his father didn't rip him from his hiding place. It wasn't hard blows and broken bones, or stinking breath and belittling abuses that met him. Not this time. This time, his prayers would be answered.

Daryl may have been living out a memory in his head, a delusion brought on by the stress of everything they had lost at the prison, but he was still just locked away in the trunk of an old car on some now-nameless highway in the middle of what used to be Georgia. And as much as he felt it, Daryl hadn't lost everything. He hadn't lost everyone. He wasn't alone. He had Beth.

She had followed obediently as Daryl had tucked them away quickly into the trunk and tied off the entrance, sealing them in – hopefully safely. And then he'd gone on guard, holding his bow at the ready and watching like a hawk in case any of the walkers realized their hiding place. Typical Daryl – protecting and generally being a bad-ass. Beth had always admired those things about him and, honestly, she'd always been a little jealous of him. She couldn't seem badass if she tried. It didn't matter now, though. Beth didn't even want to be a hero. She was terrified and so sad. She felt lucky to have Daryl with her, someone she trusted with no reservations.

And…he was someone she loved – if at arm's length. Despite Beth's admiration of his skills for survival, she had also come to understand Daryl's kindness and well-hidden vulnerabilities. It was clear, to her at least, that Daryl Dixon was an extremely loving person, with a need to have his love returned. Unfortunately, he was also very well guarded with his emotions and feelings. Even as empathetic as Beth was, she had only barely been allowed to scrape the surface with Daryl. Though she had been able to share tiny moments with him; kind smiles exchanged, little touches in the corridor or when she served him dinner…a hug when he came to tell her about Zach.

With nothing else to draw her attention away from the fact that they might be eaten alive any moment, Beth concentrated on Daryl. She was focusing on him in order to keep her panic at bay. She admired, in turn, every nice and commendable thing about him. It was like a mental game, making a list – just to keep her mind busy, of course. Not because she was obsessing over him…or anything. That would have been inappropriate.

Because she was watching him, she noticed when something started changing. Beth hadn't realized what was happening at first. Daryl had slowly relaxed his guard, his eyes had drifted shut. Beth had been certain that he had simply nodded off into sleep, and maybe he had for a moment. But then she realized that he had dropped his bow completely, giving it up to clamp his hands over his ears. He was biting down so hard on his lip she was certain it was bleeding. Then Daryl had sunk lower onto the floor of the trunk and turned toward the wall, pulling his knees even tighter to his chest. Beth couldn't hear anything over the din of the crowd outside, but she knew Daryl was either hyperventilating or sobbing just from the movement of his shoulders.

Beth didn't understand completely, she didn't know anything about Daryl's past. What she did know was that he was having a moment of emotional vulnerability. Beth Greene understood that better than most. She paused for a moment, considering what she should do. On one hand, Daryl was standoffish and might not appreciate her butting in. On the other hand… Beth traced the scar on her wrist lightly, remembering the feeling of circling the drain. The uncertainty, the pain, the utter confusion. She didn't want to leave Daryl to face things like that on his own. Whether he might want it or not, he needed her comforting presence.

Beth softly repositioned herself until she was able to squeeze her frame in next to Daryl. She gently put her arm over him and attempted a hug, but it was as if he didn't even know she was there as she pressed her face against the warm leather of his angel-wing vest. She hugged him anyway. Daryl's body was nothing but muscle and bone, tightened uncomfortably in his anxious fit. He felt like stone, Beth thought.

After a few moments with no change, Beth repositioned herself so she could look over him. She left her body pressed against him, but in the flashing light of the storm she found Daryl's face. Beth's fingers moved his messy hair from his face and her gentle digits caressed across his sweaty brow, urging him to relax and realize she was there for him. Beth could see his features change a little, relax just an iota maybe, but nothing else.

She relaxed a bit and laid her head against his hair. It was a bit uncomfortable since he still had his hands pressed firmly over his ears, but Beth managed. She thought he might still be able to hear her as she sang to him. It was the only thing she could think to do. Beth hoped she could see Daryl through this. If he would only give her a chance, he might realize that he wasn't alone and all was not lost. She reminded herself to be patient and calm. So she sang to Daryl quietly as they laid there in that trunk. She pressed her palm against his heart and used the beat she found there to guide her melody…

"So open up your eyes and tell me I'm alive

This is never going to go our way

If I I'm going to have to guess what's on your mind.

Say something, Say something

Something like you love me

Less you want me to move away

From the noise of this place..."

In his mind, Daryl was still hidden under Merle's bed, listening to his father's angry growling and the beating and banging of his drunken tantrum. But then Daryl thought he heard something else. It sounded like someone had turned on a radio, but that couldn't be right. Will Dixon didn't allow anyone to play the radio in his house. The sound was sweet and comforting, though. It was real. Daryl loosened the grip of his hands on his ears so he could listen. She sang so quietly, but it resounded loud in Daryl's heart and eased his mind and body to relax.

The angelic voice stilled the demon of his father's memory until it slowly became nothing more than a faded bad dream. Beth Greene, Daryl thought. Only she had the power to soothe him like that. She'd never known it, but Beth may well have been the only reason the hunter ever slept at the prison. His father's memory, the struggles of his life, apocalyptic horrors, the loss of Merle, and so much more…these things weighed on him, most of all in the night. He had lain on the catwalk at the prison and pondered things, sleepless, until Beth's lullaby's quieted him down. Granted, they were sang for Judith's benefit, but Daryl had used them, too. And he used her voice now, letting it wash over his nerves and calm his frayed emotions.

The banging of the walkers outside, the rocking of the car as they herded through, the torrential rain, the roar of the thunder…Daryl let it all slip away into oblivion until there was nothing but him and this amazing girl. As Beth held him tight and caressed his forehead and lulled him with her tender humming, Daryl let himself find peace and finally rested.

Beth watched over him in that trunk as she had secretly done from afar at the prison. She never let on, but she knew Daryl liked hearing her singing at night. That's why she had done it, even when Judy wasn't particularly fussy. She'd kept a mindful eye on the uneasy hunter, glancing over him nonchalantly as she paced with the baby in the prison corridor. It hadn't escaped Beth's notice that Daryl calmed to her singing more readily than baby Judy. One moment he would be shaking his foot and biting his nails, the next he would be out like a light. It had delighted Beth to think she had been able to pacify such a man as Daryl Dixon.

Daryl never let anybody close, not even Carol. Not really. He didn't like people paying him too much attention. It was almost like he didn't think he deserved anyone being nice to him, or he didn't know how to react to it. Just like some people didn't know how to accept a compliment, poor Daryl didn't know how to accept a kindness. Beth figured her singing was the best way she could offer the man some much-needed tenderness. Now, in this trunk, with everything that had happened, it was obvious he had needed that more than ever before. Beth just hoped she hadn't overstepped any bounds or done something that would make things uncomfortable between them. She knew Daryl might not like that she saw him in such a vulnerable state.

Right now, it didn't matter. Beth figured they could start working through things tomorrow if they needed to. Tonight they were both hurting. Daryl needed the comfort of her kindness, and Beth needed… Well she needed a lot of things right now, but being with someone and sharing a touch of affection, that was a start. Beth continued to hold Daryl tight to her and stroke his hair. After she ran out of words, she just hummed nonsense melodies. It was good for them both. Eventually Beth gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep, too.

In their sleep, they shifted. Daryl turned over into Beth and had buried his face in her unkempt hair, hugging her to him. Beth had burrowed into Daryl's chest and let his arms provide a safe haven.

Daryl dreamed of his mother. Her hair had always been wild and blonde. Kinky curly. When he'd been sick she held him once, he remembered. She had hugged him close and hummed at him. It had helped him not feel sick anymore. He'd hidden his face in her hair. It had smelled like smoke and liquor back then but now in his dream it smelled like apples and sunshine. Wait, was he sick? No… sad maybe? He couldn't remember why his mother was holding him, but he wasn't as out of sorts now in any case. Apples and sunshine were happy things, they made him feel better and that's all that mattered. Then his dream changed. He was in the prison. He looked for his mother, but she'd gone. Instead he found Beth Greene leaning against a windowsill, looking out wistfully. For a second Daryl hoped she was going to sing, but she didn't. Daryl could tell she was crying instead and without even thinking about it, he went to her and touched her hair. She was pretty in the sunlight, Daryl thought. He had noticed that often, but had never let on…maybe he should have.

"Daddy's gone." Beth turned her eyes to Daryl, silently begging for reassurance. Daryl wasn't sure what he could do about Hershel or what he could do to make Beth feel better.

"Yeah. Mine's gone, too." That was true, Daryl suddenly realized. Why he felt the urge to tell it to Beth now, Daryl didn't know. Or maybe he did, after he thought about it a moment. Daryl took a deep breath, one that filled his senses with apples and sunshine, and told Beth the best truth he knew. "We'll both be alright." Daryl's father wasn't there to terrorize him anymore and Beth…she'd be ok because she wasn't alone. She might not have her father, but she still had someone who cared about her. Someone who would look after her the best he knew how. Daryl's dream ended with Beth's hopeful smile turned to him.

Daryl woke to the feeling of wet on his shirt. In a sleepy haze, he thought he'd been drooling. When he went to wipe his mouth, however, he found that his hands were preoccupied. One was tucked under the waist of Beth Greene as he held her to his body. His other hand was buried in her hair. The wetness he felt was tears, he realized. Beth was crying quietly in her sleep and she was tossing her head from side to side, tangling Daryl's fingers in the blond waves and messy braid. He had obviously been holding her head to his chest while they slept…tangled together.

The storm hadn't passed completely, it was still raining slightly, but it seemed the majority of the dead herd may have mostly gone through. Daryl didn't hear the beating and banging of them against the car like before – just some distant groans. The lightning, however, seemed worse. There was a constant flash now and the growling roll of thunder in the distance was threatening. If Daryl's sense of direction was still sound, there was another storm coming in from the west.

They could get up, keep running. But as much as Daryl felt the need to move and run away from everything right now, he knew it wasn't smart. Wasn't safe. Not for Beth. Daryl's first instinct was to push Beth away, disentangle himself, and create some separation like he always did with everyone. But there was something different with Beth. Daryl couldn't bring himself to push her away. He'd been quite fond of the gentle little creature before, but now his mind was flashing with deeper thoughts regarding her. Something more than simple fondness had crept in.

Daryl just kept seeing the hopeful look on Beth's face in his dream. He could still hear the whisper of her singing in his ear as she held him close earlier in the night. Daryl thought he might always feel the solid weight of her arm, tiny as it was, holding him anchor as he fell apart. Then there was that gentle caress of her fingers on his forehead, which did something altogether different to him. Not that he'd go there, though. Beth was an innocent, he told himself. She wasn't helpless but she deserved kindness, protection, and hope. He wasn't sure about the kindness and hope, but he could at least try for the protection part. Anything beyond that Daryl was certain he would fail.

He looked at her in the light of the storm. Even in this washed out light, she was beautiful. Even with her face scrunched up and wet with tears, she was gorgeous. Daryl would have moved to wipe away those tears if he'd had another hand, but he didn't want to stop holding her to him. The warmth of her skin under his hand at her waist felt good. The feel of her soft hair around his fingers was comforting. She was comforting. All of her. Her voice, the feel of her, her presence. In spite of himself, instead of pushing her away, Daryl pulled her even closer.

Beth, still in sleep, nuzzled her nose into Daryl's chest. He could feel her ragged breath against his own stuttering heartbeat and he tightened his grip in her soft hair. Daryl still felt a bit like crying, too. They had lost so much good in the last few hours. If Beth hadn't been there to hold him fast, Daryl figured he might have broken beyond repair. He might have lost himself to the terror of his past for good. He wondered if he would be able to repay that to Beth somehow. He was trying to make a start of it now, holding her like this. He hoped that he could provide her with a solid anchor, at the very least, as she had done for him earlier.

Daryl held her like that for what was probably going on an hour. Eventually, her crying stopped and she had fallen into a peaceful surrender. He didn't let go, though. Honestly, he didn't want to. Holding her felt almost as good as when she had held him. Daryl was starting to think that maybe he got it now…why everyone was always looking for lovey-dovey relationships. He'd never known this kind of comfort before. Not like this. But not that this was any sort of relationship, he corrected himself. Pffft. As if Beth Greene would ever consider him in that way anyway.

A deafening crack of thunder echoed right overhead and Daryl felt Beth's breathing change. He looked down on her and found her eyes looking up at him in wonder and maybe a bit of trepidation. Her face was still nuzzled into him, and she was peering up through curls of hair that had come loose in her fitful sleep. After blinking a few times, Beth started to move away reluctantly.

Daryl surprised himself by not allowing it. He held her tight when she tried to pull away. He withdrew his hand from her hair and moved the locks away from her eyes. Daryl Dixon wasn't one for words, but he hoped his face would tell Beth that he wanted her to stay like this. He pulled her waist closer to his own, trying to get his point across. He needed to feel her close to him. Something alive and warm and kind and brilliant. Not just something…her.

Beth must have gotten it, he supposed, because Daryl finally felt her relax back into him. She laid her head back where it had been on his chest and tightened her arm around him once more. Daryl couldn't help but release a relieved sigh. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn he felt Beth smile against him.

Shortly thereafter, the storm finally reached them. The lightning and thunder hit a crescendo overhead, almost deafening. The rain poured down so hard it almost sounded like hail against the metal of the car trunk. Maybe it was hail, Daryl thought, it had gotten quite cool when the storm came. The air wafting in now was cold and clean. It was blowing Beth's hair and filling the trunk with the smell of her shampoo. Daryl guessed that's what the scent was, anyway. Apples and sunshine.

There wasn't much water getting in. Only what was blowing in from the gap they had left open. But it was a cold rain and it was starting to get uncomfortable. Daryl let go of Beth and turned to close the trunk door, sealing out the rain and the cold. Unfortunately, it cut out the light, too but they'd survive. It only took a second, then he was turning to feel for Beth. Not even thinking that they wouldn't go straight back to the way they had been laying before.

In the pitch black, Daryl settled onto his side and slid his hand back into place where Beth's waist should have been. Problem was Beth had shifted. For comfort, she had rolled onto her back and to the side a bit to avoid the jack. When Daryl smoothed his hand along what should have been the curve of Beth's waist, he found direct contact with the smooth plane of Beth's abdomen instead. And he hit it low. Beth jumped at the surprise contact in such an intimate area and Daryl stopped short. In stunned shock, he wasn't sure for a moment how to withdraw his hand or what to say or do.

When his brain started functioning again, he took his hand back and just sat there. What was he supposed to do now?

"Daryl?" Daryl could barely hear Beth's sweet voice over the thunder of the rain over them and the thunder of his heart trying to beat out of his chest, but it was loud enough for him to hear the confusion in her question.

He had really fucked up. He'd never meant to touch her like that. It was a mistake but his body had liked it too much. Beth's shirt had ridden up and her jeans were cut low, really low. That was where his hand had landed. The softness of that tender exposed skin under his rough fingers felt so good. He hated himself for it, but now he wanted to do more than hold Beth. Oh so much more. The sudden onslaught of depraved thoughts was shocking. And embarrassing. It was close quarters and now he had a hard-on he was going to have to deal with.

"Daryl?" That question again. Louder this time, and more assertive. Daryl wished he could see her face. Maybe then he could gauge Beth's reaction.

Daryl was still completely lost when Beth shifted and slid her hand up his chest. The hammering there was palpable. She let her hand find his neck and travel up and around until she had grasped the hair at nape of his neck. When he didn't pull away immediately, Beth took a risk and leaned forward to kiss him. She managed to hit her mark somehow. It was so dark, but she felt his lips under her own. He didn't kiss her back, but he didn't pull away, either, so she continued to massage his mouth with her lips. She kept it gentle and sweet. Chaste. She was afraid to scare him away.

She'd wanted to do this when she woke to find him pressed against her, but she had restrained herself somehow. Then he had touched her like…that. So close to where she had already been feeling a bit too warm. Daryl's hand on her belly, his fingers almost brushing low enough to slide under the band of her jeans…it lit a fire in her loins. Now she had his lips on hers and that fire was spreading in her. She took a risk and slid her tongue between his lips, asking for a response. At the same time, ever so slowly, she moved her hand to rub gently against Daryl's thigh.

Beth was looking for a response and she got one. It was the tongue paired with the warmth of her hand so close to his rock hard cock that pushed him too far. There was no way that Daryl could restrain himself at that. Here was the girl that had gotten under his skin and into his head with her kindness and brilliance now tempting him with seductive touches. Paired with his need for comfort after this whole shitty day. It was too much. Daryl's response was passionate and rough. Unfortunately, he knew no other way.

Beth suddenly found herself pressed back against the floor of the trunk. Daryl's tongue was in her mouth, searching. Her hand was still on his thigh, but now that was wedged hard between her legs. And one of Daryl's hands had found her breast in the dark, squeezing and feeling roughly through the fabric of her shirt. Beth wondered if Daryl even registered it was her for a moment. That was until he started uttering her name under his breath after each kiss. The way he pleaded her name into her lips made her weak and keen all at once. This onslaught of passion was almost too much for her body and mind to handle. She felt like she might come undone at the seams.

Daryl hadn't forgotten who he was with. He'd never felt such an attraction like this before and he knew it was because it was just Beth. It was because of everything they had shared together, especially today. They had soothed each other emotionally, now there seemed to be a physical need that also needed to be sated between them. Daryl could feel that it wasn't just him. Beth's need was just like his. He couldn't help thinking that if holding her while they slept was that satisfying to his soul, how good would it feel to slide inside her warmth and feel her grasping him tight?

The rain was pounding overhead, drowning out almost all sound, even the thunder from the storm. But with little to no space between them, Daryl and Beth could hear every groan, every little gasp of pleasure and they both reveled in it as they let their hands and mouths roam. The tight space made it difficult, but they made do. Where hands couldn't easily reach, they settled instead for friction however it could be had. As Beth's hands were busy removing Daryl's vest and shirt buttons, she helped herself to the use of Daryl's muscular thigh which was still wedged conveniently between her legs.

Daryl was propped on one arm to keep from crushing the tiny blonde. His other hand had found its way beneath Beth's shirt and bra and was tweaking one perfect little perky peak… much to both their pleasures. Daryl found the situation convenient enough that he didn't need to create any friction for himself. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Beth had begun to grind herself on his leg. He was even more satisfied to find that her rhythm also led her jutted hip bone to caress his tightly cordoned cock in the most perfect way. The pocket snap on her jeans rubbed perfectly up and down against the zipper of his own pants. A zipper that was barely holding him back at this point.

The sensation soon became too much. Daryl knew this wasn't going to be able to go on long. From the heat coming off of Beth, she was likely in the same boat. "Beth, I need ya." It felt to him like he yelled it. Maybe because he was screaming the sentiment in his own brain over and over like a mantra. In truth, Daryl had barely uttered it into her ear.

To Beth, it was more a plea than a demand. Daryl was now shirtless (with many less buttons to tend to next time) and Beth's hands were playing along the lines of his magnificently defined abs. She was certain, with not a little embarrassment, that he could feel her wetness on his thigh where she had been pleasuring herself against him. She had been frenzied in her eagerness until he had said those four little words. Only then had she realized that Daryl had been holding himself back. She understood Daryl's plea and she felt how hard he was. How taught his muscles had become all over. He needed more but he was waiting for her permission. Maybe he didn't know what to do next.

Daryl couldn't see Beth's eyes in this pitch black, but he felt her relax beneath him and stop her movement. He released her breast and let his arm come to rest alongside her head, trying to catch his breath while he wondered what she was thinking. This was where it ended, he was certain. He wasn't good at this sex and romance stuff. Hell, he'd only ever been with two women. Both of which had been older and far more experienced. And he had been drunk both times. To be honest, he wasn't certain exactly what he was supposed to do next. Especially with a girl like Beth Greene. This was no bar tramp he was dealing with. She was young and sweet and innocent. Jesus, had she even done this before? Maybe this was all a fucking mistake.

Before he could start to panic further, Daryl felt Beth's tender fingers on his face. She caressed him now the same way she had last night, smoothing his forehead and around his eyes and jawline. Feeling for the tension in his features and easing them gently away. Daryl's mind quieted and the rigidity in his whole body felt like it was draining away. He let his forehead fall down to meet Beth's.

Beth wished that Daryl could see her face. She would have shown him the love and passion she had for him and that it wasn't fake or temporary or just some trifle to ease the pain of loss. She vowed that he would see and understand that soon. For now, though, she would just have to try to show him with touch. Beth would let him feel how her body responded to him, how it wanted him, how she wanted him body and soul.

Daryl felt Beth shift beneath him, pushing him back gently, and he used his arms and knees to push up and give her some space. He wasn't sure what was happening until he felt her bare nipples caress the naked flesh and hair of his chest. He had the wild urge to grab the blonde beneath him and ravage her for all he was worth but he held still while she continued to move beneath him. He heard her zipper and felt her moving her legs and freeing herself from the rest of her clothes as she shuffled beneath him. She accidently scraped one knee against his most sensitive spot and he couldn't resist the shudder that passed through him and the loud pained groan that escaped from deep inside him. She must not understand that he was barely holding back.

Beth's fingers were on his face again instantly. One tiny thumb smoothing across his lips. "Shhh. It's okay. Lemme have your hand." He gave it willingly and Beth guided his fingers to her now bare center. When Daryl touched her for the first time, they both gasped in surprised pleasure. Beth was so wet and hot that it shocked him. Daryl's fingers were calloused but ever so gentle as he discovered her. He circled her clit a couple of times, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Beth each time, before he let one finger delve gently inside. Beth's hips bucked upward gently, willingly, inviting him further inside.

Daryl, however, stopped short and withdrew. He went back to propping himself up above her, Beth's hard nipples just grazing the hair on his chest.

"Daryl?"

"Can't." One word, that's all the response Beth got. She could feel that his breathing was rough and labored and her hand still caressing his jaw could feel the tension there. Beth wasn't experienced at this but she thought to go with her best instincts. She let both hands travel down between them and released Daryl's belt. When she lowered his zipper and slid his pants and underwear both down out of the way, Daryl huffed and lowered his head to her shoulder and placed a sweet gentle kiss on her skin. It was a thank you, Beth was certain. This was what he needed. A little guidance and assurance.

When she gently grasped his rock hard member, Beth thought maybe she understood. Daryl was huge and so rigid she thought it might be painful for him. As she felt of him, gently stroking, Daryl finally started to move again. His hips rocked ever so slightly with her ministrations, his breath on her neck changed to coincided with her stroking and she could hear him saying her name over and over again quietly. This didn't last long, though. Daryl's mouth was suddenly on hers, his tongue and lips urgently searching. One of his hands wound through her hair and his other took his cock from her hand.

It happened quickly. There was only a slight adjustment of Daryl's hips. Beth didn't even feel Daryl probing for her entrance, he was inside her in one smooth stroke. All the way inside. Beth thought she was prepared, but then she suddenly wasn't so sure. Daryl's mouth was on her, his tongue pressing against her own. Her chest was tight against his, nipples scraping against his, his hips digging into her own. Daryl's hand in her hair was holding her head still and then his penis inside her was so large… it was all so new and insistent, almost too much. She couldn't breathe. Beth reminded herself that this was Daryl, that she was safe, she wasn't drowning…she was making love to someone she wanted with all of her being. She forced herself to relax and let Daryl feel her accept him.

Daryl hadn't thought. Feeling Beth's small hand grasping and stroking him like that was so fortifying. He'd been so confident in that moment. He had forgotten everything but getting inside her body where he belonged. She'd been so hot and soft and willing, her thighs around his waist all but pulling him in. When he sheathed himself inside of her, though, he had felt Beth instantly stiffen. He hadn't felt any resistance when he pressed inside but she obviously wasn't prepared for the feel of him. Her body had clamped down around him like a vice. Maybe he should have taken it more slowly. He froze, not knowing what she needed. He prayed that she wouldn't push him away. Daryl was certain he die from the pain. Not just the physical pain, which would be bad, but the rejection more than anything else would have done him in.

Beth relaxed as much as she could. She let her hands slide down Daryl's back and over his ass, even drifting down farther and barely touching his balls. It was thrilling that he was allowing her to touch him like this. He stayed stock still, waiting for her as she readied herself. He kissed her chastely on the forehead as she got used to him around her and inside her. As she tried to catch her breath. When she had relaxed herself as much as she thought she could, she kissed Daryl again and moved her hips slightly. It was hard and the stretching burned but not in an entirely bad way.

When he felt her push back against him with her hips, that little stroke of friction was all it took to tell Daryl it was time. He didn't know any other way of doing this besides what he had in the past. All he knew was sex, but he tried to make it as much making love as he possibly could. Daryl adjusted Beth's thigh a little higher on his hip and withdrew then pressed inside again. They both groaned at the sensation. Beth was still panting and a bit stiff. Daryl waited a minute and repeated the action. This time there was less of a marked reaction. He found her lips again and she kissed him back passionately. Daryl was thrilled when Beth repositioned her other knee and rocked against him again. It was permission, a request for him to continue. He felt her body start to relax under him and around his cock. Welcoming him inside.

Beth had never felt this sensation. She had some experience, but not this. All at once she felt both completely protected and utterly vulnerable. Her body felt both tight as a bow-string and totally boneless. Daryl set a paced rhythm and her body started to open on its own accord. All Beth could do in that moment was lay back and revel in the sensations of Daryl sliding deep inside her. Her body was reacting without her input, moving in ways she had never known, keeping pace with Daryl's moves. And now that she was getting used to it, it felt so good. She had one hand clamped to Daryl's ass and one in his hair, holding his lips to her own. She never wanted to let go. They could die like this as far as Beth was concerned.

Daryl could no longer hear the rain, though he was certain it was still rumbling overhead. All he could hear was Beth gasping his name between their kisses as her orgasm built beneath him. That and his thundering heart as his own climax wound tight in his center. His hand was back in her soft hair. The other had wound underneath and around Beth's waist, trying to hold her steady as he pounded his cock harder and harder into her lithe little body.

Everything came undone quickly. Beth came first. Daryl's cock was pounding into her so quickly she could barely register him leaving. It was just friction and fullness all the way to her core. Heat flooded her entire body all at once and in the dark of the trunk Beth saw sparks of light as her body exploded in a whirlwind of hot wet gushing and pressure. She screamed, but Daryl's mouth and the rain above assisted in muting her cries of passion. Her fingers dug into Daryl's scalp and ass as her body drew taut and flew apart all at once.

Daryl didn't know what to do with Beth as she went wild beneath him. All he could really do in the end was hold on for dear life, mute her cries, and wince at the pain of her nails digging into him as she bucked and thrashed. When he felt her pussy gush and spasm around him, he lost control. She was already tight and wet, but this was overkill. The pressure was literally painful. His balls drew up and his cock exploded without warning. Just as Beth was starting to settle down, Daryl's body took over with wild abandon. His hips bucked, both hands flew to Beth's waist to pull her harder into him, and his cock exploded deep inside her harder than he'd ever ejaculated in his life. Daryl wondered if his cock would ever stop spewing forth. He felt Beth's pussy fill to the brim and his cum, mixed with her stickiness, started to leak out down her ass and all across his balls, which were now pressed firmly into her ass.

When it was finally over, Daryl found himself laying full force on top of tiny Beth Greene. Both of them were plastered together in a thick sheen of sticky sweet sweat and cum. He pressed one long last kiss against her gasping lips as he pulled away.

Beth felt herself gush embarrassingly as Daryl withdrew his softening member from her. If there had been light, Daryl would have watched her turn red from top to toe. But she would have seen him do the same. Neither of them had ever been with anyone like this.

Beth pressed her knees together as soon as Daryl shifted out of the way, but it didn't stop the leaking. She wasn't sure what to do now. It wasn't like she could run to the bathroom to clean up. Even if there had been a bathroom, she wasn't sure she could have gotten up to make it there at the moment. Her whole body felt awkward and shaky. Her core felt wide open and vulnerable and her knees felt wobbly and loose like she really had come undone at all her seams.

It was still pitch black, but she could feel Daryl fishing around in the dark. When she felt him nudging her knees open, Beth almost panicked a little. Surely Daryl couldn't want more this quickly? But she opened herself to him again anyway. Whatever Daryl needed or wanted, Beth would happy to offer. What they had just shared was the most amazing and powerful thing Beth had ever experienced. She wanted to feel that connection again and again. Not just the orgasm, but the powerful spark between her soul and his. That's what had made the pleasure so much more powerful. As inexperienced as she was, even Beth realized that truth.

Daryl wasn't asking entry for more intimacy. At least not now. He was panicking a bit himself. He knew coming inside Beth wasn't a good idea. In the moment, it wasn't a thought but a mad urge from his heart and pure instinct. Now all he could do was try to help her clean up. He had fished in the dark until he found her little cotton underwear and he now used them to tidy the mess he had made. It was a bit awkward, but the job got done. He cleaned himself off, too, then laid down beside Beth wondering what she would say or do now.

To his immense relief, Beth immediately curled her naked body into Daryl's, the exact way they had been laying when they woke to each other earlier. Daryl's arms found their way back to their places around her naturally. They both instantly felt at peace. No discussion about this was needed or wanted. It just…was. They just…were.

"What was that you was singin'?" Daryl genuinely wanted to know. It was a lovely song, but he'd never heard her sing it before. He knew all her songs word for word.

"Hmmmm?" Beth was barely holding herself awake. Now that she was sated, both emotionally and physically, she longed for a peaceful sleep safe in Daryl's warm arms.

"That song ya sang ta me. You never sang it before. What was it?"

"Oh. "Believe." It's just for you." Beth barely got out the words before she was gone into a deep slumber.

Daryl listened to her breathing for a while. Believe, she had said. It was fitting. Maybe he hadn't really before, but now he did. Believe, that is. Daryl believed they would be ok. He believed they'd find their family. More than anything, he believed Beth had saved him tonight and that he had fallen completely and hopelessly in love and lust with this blonde ray of sunshine. They would wake up when daylight arrived, wash off in the rain water, and start out on a brand new path. Together. Maybe eventually he'd learn how to say something about how he felt. But for now, he was fairly certain Beth understood him just fine. They had just said plenty without so many words, after all…