One night, when we were alone out there, on our own, Daryl said, "There's a fire in yer eyes," Then he looked down at his hands. Maybe he meant that the light from the fire we sat around was reflecting in my eyes, maybe he meant that I was driven, determined. Strong. That's what I'm choosing to believe. I wish I had asked him, then, what exactly he meant.
Physically I'm alone now. In my heart, Daryl's still with me. We never got separated. I mean, we did, and that was probably worse than losing the rest of my family, the rest of OUR family, with the fall of the prison. But it's like he's still with me in spirit. Like he's guiding me, helping me find my way back to him. The road ahead of me is so long, endless, really. I don't know if I'll ever find Daryl or any of the others, but I have hope.
He's what's making my feet take another step, he's what's driving me to go forward. Maybe he isn't alive. Maybe he is. If he isn't, he's watching over me. Helping me, guiding me. The things he taught me in the time we had together were invaluable. Watching him hunt, watching the way he moved through the forest were more valuable lessons than any he could have given with words. I spent more time watching his silent and sure movements than anything else.
Yeah, he's keeping me alive as I'm chasing the tomorrow where I'll find him again. I have to find him again. If for nothing else, because I need to know. Did he mean that he felt the same way I do? Did he fall for me like I fell for the hunter? His voice playing through my head, images of his startling blue eyes, keeps me safe, keeps me sane, keeps me honest.
The edge of tonight, the start of tomorrow. It's not a question of whether I'll find him again, it's a question of when. I won't let anything get in my way of getting back to him. I need him. I grew dependent on him in more than I needed him for survival, food and shelter. I need him like an addict needs their fix. Is this how his brother felt without his drugs, when he was with us at the prison? I think I can relate to it now.
I don't know how long I've been on my own. I stopped keeping track of the days. The nights and days just started to blur together. Which, probably isn't good, but, it's better than getting so caught up in how long I've been alone and getting discouraged, right? If I saw signs of other people, or herds or lone walkers, I steered clear. I gave them a wide circle. Sometimes I climbed up into a tree and waited for them to pass me by. It was always with a hope that as they passed under me I'd see his long, dirty brown hair covering those beautiful eyes of his, with his vest on that he never takes off.
I wonder. If it came down to it, down to the vest or his crossbow, if he had to give one up, which would he let go of? That stubborn man would probably die rather than give either up.
Then one day, one morning, actually, the sun hadn't been up for long, I found tracks. Not walkers. The footsteps were too even. I gave the prints a wide berth and stuck close to trees, following them until I came across a clearing and I hid behind a tree to watch and listen. Maybe these people would be safe, nice. Maybe I would be able to join them for a night or two. Just long enough to get some rest.
Then I heard that voice with just a hint of growl to it. The voice that can send shivers racing through my body, butterflies through my stomach and my heart racing like I've just run six miles with walkers chasing me.
Daryl.
Daryl is here.
He's safe.
I didn't leave my hiding spot.
Not for a while, anyways. I watched the way he interacted with the group. Kind of apart from them, not one of theirs.
Then, then he took his bow and left. I left my hiding spot a couple of minutes after he left the group and followed him out.
"I hear ya there. C'mon outta there an' show yer face,"
God, it's good to hear his voice. He didn't turn around, didn't nothing but stop and tighten his grip on his bow. Expecting for me, the unknown person to be bad. He doesn't know it's me.
I stepped into the open, making sure to step on a branch and be somewhat loud.
He turned around and his grip on his crossbow loosened enough it fell to the ground with a soft thump.
"Beth," He breathed, just a whisper on the wind. I felt him say my name more than I heard it.
I hesitated for half a second before I dropped my pack with my few belongings on to the ground and ran. I ran the five or so yards between us and jumped onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His arms wrapped around my waist and he swung us in a circle.
"Didn't think I'd ever see ya again, girl." He mumbled, his lips pressed to my hair.
I whispered into his neck, "I knew I'd find you again, one way or another, Daryl. I had to."
Maybe it was only a few seconds, maybe it was twenty minutes that we stayed just like that, me wrapped around him, him holding me against him. Maybe it was forever and no time at all. However long it really was, it wasn't long enough before I was back on the ground. But, we were still touching. He wrapped his hand around my own and held it pressed to his chest like a lifeline.
I lifted my free hand and ran it along the stubble on his cheek, a ghost's touch. He tilted his face, pressing into my hand like a dog nuzzling its owner for more attention.
"I missed ya so much." I admitted. "Daryl. The things we were talkin' 'bout, back at that mortuary. What were ya gonna say? I dunno if this is jus' a dream an' I'm goin' to wake up any minute now or not. If it is, I wan' to make the most o' this before I wake up an' I'm forced back into a world wit'out you."
He cleared his throat and looked down before looking back up at me through his lashes. "It was ya that changed me an' the way I looked an' thought 'bout the world. This ain't no dream. If it is, I'm havin' the same one. If I had the chance I was gonna tell ya that it was you. Beth Greene, it was ya."
"Do ya love me?" I asked him. I think I know this answer, but God help me if I don't need to hear it said out loud.
He nodded and didn't say nothing for a moment. "I love ya." His cheeks held a faint pink to them.
I closed the distance between us, squeezed his hand tightly in my own and brought my lips to his.
The world lit up with fireworks, as soon as our lips touched. He didn't hesitate to kiss me back.
Did he think about this moment like I did? Has he wanted this as badly and as long as I have?
Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the feeling of his lips pressed to mine, the way my heart sped up, completely different than the speeding up of my heart when facing a walker. Nothing could have prepared me for the want, no, need of more.
When our kiss ended, the both of panting, gasping for air, I knew that no matter what happened in the future, whether we survived or not, found the rest of our family or ever found a way to live in this world, I'd be okay so long as I have him by my side.
I found the reason for the fire in my eyes, at the edge of tonight and the start of tomorrow.
A/n: Hope y'all enjoy this! I'm looking forward to a couple days of being a hermit and doing nothing but writing and watching Doctor Who. Your Choice is the next thing to be updated.
Hope y'all enjoyed this little one-shot of Bethyl fluff and love. Thanks All Time Low for inspiring me with this amazing song. If y'all haven't listened to the Future Hearts album, you should.