Prologue

Welcome, fellow readers and dreamers! Before I kick off this slow burn I just wanna have a little chat with you. So come, please, have a seat and sit for a moment. Are you comfy? Good. Don't worry, I won't ask you any personal questions, but I do want to tell you a little something about me. I love music even more than I love Bethyl, and that is A LOT. Music is such an inspiring tool and my creative little brain often makes its own little music videos that play behind my eyes.

How is this relevant? Why am I keeping you from reading Bethyl goodness? Because I want you to know that this entire story is inspired by song lyrics. I will let you know what songs inspired particular moments or themes as they come along….but first I wanted to set the mood for this very chapter. You know how lots of movies start out with maybe some little snips of dialogue before rolling the title screens and some credits over dialogue-less music montage to kind of get things rolling? That's what you and I are gonna do.

If you don't mind, go to your favorite online music player and listen to "David" by Noah Gundersen. Yes not every single lyric is a perfect fit….but go on, close your eyes (...I mean, still read this though). I think I hear Daryl rumbling down a road towards Atlanta. Since your eyes are closed, I'll tell you what I see. Dappled bits of light from between yellow-leafed trees hits his truck like big, silent raindrops before they slip off in a 60 miles per hour blur. His windows are rolled down and one of his tanned arms is hanging out, tapping either to the music playing on his radio or out of nervousness, I can't quite tell. It looks like he's pulling off now, into the parking lot of some local joint. What's that expression on his face? He looks a bit distressed to me. Now open your eyes. What do you think?

Chapter One

He downed another drink, hardly noticing the burn from the hard liquor as he gulped it down his throat. For about 20 minutes he had been feeling almost pleasantly drunk, but now the lights were swimming in his vision. Some voice inside him told him he was wasted. Wasted and about to be sick from too much alcohol and nerves. He slid off his stool, bumping into another person's body on his way. Daryl thought he mumbled an apology but was concentrated more on trying to make the floor stop squirming under his feet. "D-damnn..it," he slurred.

A combination of muscle memory and sheer luck got him to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were, and he leaned into the door to open it. The stillness of the yellow tinged bathroom lighting was an immediate relief from the pulsing, multi-colored lights by the stage. Cool air came floating down from a vent in the ceiling and Daryl let himself rest against the tile wall for a moment. Then he could feel it.

He rushed to push open one of the bathroom stalls, and barely had time to fall to his knees before retching in the toilet. A shudder racked his body for a moment and he thought he heard a voice. His hearing was about as clear and precise as his vision right now but the second or third time he heard that voice-like sound he knew there was another person in the bathroom noticing his drunken, sorry ass make a fool of himself.

He threw up again. But as he coughed he noticed a cool feeling around his forehead and sensed his hair being moved away from his mouth. His body shuddered in both relief and shame.

"Don't mind me, just helping out," he thought he heard. No, he knew there was a person with him.

Daryl, mustering as much control as he could, lifted his hand in search of some toilet paper so he could wipe his mouth.

"Oh, let me get that…" cooed the voice.

Pushing his hand through the air, he attempted again to do it himself. He wasn't no baby. He could wipe his own damn face. But he had to close his eyes and clench his hand into a fist while he forced his stomach to settle.

"Had a little too much to drink tonight, huh?" He opened his eyes at the sound and saw a flash of gold and blue. "Are you here with anyone?"

He grunted in a way he hoped conveyed that he wasn't.

"Hmm, okay then. Do you have anyone I can call?" The voice was a pleasant distraction, so much so that he didn't protest when he felt hands wipe at his face. Leaning against the wall of the bathroom stall, he opened his eyes again and tried his best to focus on the person in front of him.

There was blonde hair, long. A blue t-shirt, faded. The person was a girl, which made sense given the inherent tenderness her actions had shown so far. Her mouth was moving and he realized she was speaking to him again.

"Do you need anything?"

"I think...I think I spilled my dr-rink."

At this the blonde girl cracked a smile, and something about the smile clicked with him. "Yes, I think you did. Do you have a name?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again he wasn't in the bathroom.

"He isn't a puppy, Beth, we can't just take him home with us."

"Well we can't leave him outside the bar!"

"Did you find his ID? We could call a cab?"

"His address is all the way in Columbus..."

Daryl rubbed his head in his hands. A quick inspection of his surroundings let him know he was still at the bar. A tired looking staff member was wiping down tables and putting the chairs on them, while another was closing up the bar area. A few customers still lingered in the bar. The blonde girl in the blue shirt was talking to a guy that looked to be about her age, which was definitely young.

Daryl cleared his throat, and both of them turned their head sharply towards him.

"Don't need nothing from you." His head hurt like hell, but it was a lot clearer than earlier. He guessed it was about 2am now, and he was probably out for two or three hours. "I've got a truck."

The guy next to the blonde girl, presumably Beth, raised his eyebrows at Daryl. "Hey man, we can't let you drive right now…"

Standing up slowly, to avoid blacking out again, Daryl ignored the kids and headed out of the bar towards his truck. He didn't plan on even leaving the parking lot, but he didn't need to explain himself to them. As he slipped out of the exit, the crisp november air hit his skin and immediately helped to refresh him. He still needed a cigarette though.

The light in his truck didn't turn on when he opened the door, reminding him that he needed to get that fixed still. But the ambient parking lot light was bright enough he could easily locate his pack in the dash. So he climbed into the truck bed and sat there, letting the cool breeze help clear his head while he smoked.

About ten minutes later he saw the guy walk out with Beth, and Daryl watched them from behind the hair that fell in front of his face. The girl was scanning the parking lot, presumably looking for him, and when she spied him her arm went out to stop the guy. She said something that he clearly wasn't fond of but she made her way determinedly towards Daryl's truck. Her friend waited there, looking exasperated.

Daryl took a long drag from his cigarette, feeling empty and tired now. The last thing he wanted to do was talk. He looked away from her, quietly hoping that she'd turn around and walk back.

He heard her footsteps crunching in the gravel as she got closer, then a pause as she got to his truck. Her small voice floated up to him the like smoke from his True Blue's. "Um, hi.." she started. "When you were passed out, I may have, uh, looked into your wallet to find out who you were and where you lived." Her voice sped up towards the end of her sentence, like she was nervous. Daryl turned his head in her direction again, and let his eyes skim across her small frame. Not in a perverted way, he was just curious. Her blonde hair fell down just past her shoulders and it was loose except for a small braid. Comparing the image of the girl in front of him to the gold and blue vision he saw in the bar, he guessed this was the same the girl that had been in the bathroom with him.

That thought prompted him to interrupt her. "How'd you get in the guy's room anyway?"

Her expression was one of surprise, as if she expected him to be upset she'd peeked into his wallet. And maybe he would have been, if she had been anybody else, but his sixth sense was telling him she was probably alright.

"I found you in the lady's bathroom…"

He scoffed at himself and shook his head before taking another drag.

She seemed to sense his discomfort, because she changed the subject back to whatever she felt uncomfortable about earlier. And Daryl noticed that. It made him think that she must be a nice girl. She was probably raised by nice parents in a nice house, and only really did nice girl things.

Her big blue eyes looked more at his truck or her shoes than him as she spoke, but she spoke less like a mouse now. "Anyways, I didn't get a chance to give it back, your wallet, in there." Her thumb jutted back towards the bar while her other hand held out his worn leather wallet. It looked about as beat up as he felt. "Here you go Mr. Dixon."

Daryl looked warily at her outstretched hand but didn't reach for his wallet. After an awkward moment passed between the two of them, she stepped forward and set it on the wall of the truck bed. "Have a good night," she said, turning around and walking back to her friend. He watched her go, back to the guy who put an arm protectively over her shoulder. She laughed at something he said, and she pushed his arm off and hopped into the driver side of a green Subaru outback. When she was nothing but two red specks of tail lights, Daryl picked up his wallet. He felt heavy and suddenly very tired and old.

Five minutes later and he had his passenger seat leaned all the way back and was sound asleep.

So I know this is a little short, but they've met and we have no idea what is going on yet. I promise we will figure it out together though! Please review if you liked it or if you wanna take a guess at what in the heck is being planned!