Thanks to MikaelaLouise who gave me the idea to write a tipsy Beth. I enjoyed writing this and I might add a few more chapters on. I kind of wrote Beth into the episode a little bit because I always imagine her being there.
—
The party was something else.
Beth was there in a flowy black dress that came down to about mid-thigh, a zipper in the back, and short sleeves that fluttered off her shoulders. It was one of the nicest things she had worn in a while. Maggie had picked it out just for her and told her she should wear it tonight so Beth did to appease her sister, who was then smiling and talking with people like it was all normal at the party. It was normal to them, not to the group, and not to Beth.
It was a joke.
She hated that she felt that way, but it was indeed how she felt. The way of life in Alexandria was a joke.
But she was there. She showed up and stood alongside Maggie and Glenn as they mingled with the Alexandrians about normal everyday life. She chirped in a few times, but only when asked a direct question. She gave the occasional nod or smile when people would look her way, but for the most part, she stood there and stared out the window next to her with a blank face, longing to be outside in the quiet.
It wasn't until she was asked about the scar on her head, and that was when she had enough. A bullet, she explained. That was how she got the mark on her forehead. And the scar on her cheek was from some cop bitch how had given her the bullet to the head. The look on the red haired woman's face after she said that made it all worth it, even the attitude Beth left with.
It was too much for her.
Beth escaped to the porch for some much needed air after that, pushing past Maggie who had tried to grab her arm and say something she deemed as encouraging, but Beth didn't hear it, refused to hear it, so she retreated to the porch and shut the door behind her. That moment of silence was exactly what she had needed and Beth walked toward the railing to put her hands on it and take a breath.
She could see herself fitting in there in Alexandria, just not yet, she needed time. They all did. Time, however, was never on their side. There always too little of it.
"Not fond of parties?"
Abraham's voice startled her, and she turned to face him. In the dark of the porch, Abraham was slowly bringing a beer bottle to his lips to finish it off.
"We both know it's not the party I'm not fond of," Beth muttered, looking out into the yard below, examining the freshly cut flowers and the cookie-cutter landscape. She wondered what Daryl thought of all this. Hated it probably, but he hadn't talked to her much since she wandered into Alexandria a couple days ago.
Abraham deeply chuckled, setting the beer down onto the porch railing. "Yeah, I know. Things aren't like they used to be here. Everything is…"
"Normal," she finished his sentence. "That's the problem. Everything is normal."
"Maybe normal isn't that bad."
Beth side-eyed him to see that not even Abraham believed his own words. "It's different out there," she said, motioning to the wall that was visible from their place on the porch. "We can't pretend that it's not like that, even in here. We can't feel too safe. Bad things happen then."
"You're different than before."
"What?" she asked, his comment taking her off guard. "You don't know me. The first time you met me was two days ago."
"I've heard about you though," Abraham explained. "Rosita talked a lot with Glenn after the hospital, and she likes to talk so Rosita then relayed all the information back to me. That girl sure has a mouth on her. But, you know what? I listen. Listen to it all because she feels the need to tell me things. And you know what else? You're not the same girl you were beforehand. Not the same sweet farm girl. That hospital changed you. Made you different."
Beth pushed her shoulders back, standing up taller. He wasn't telling her anything new. She already knew this about herself. Part of her was colder, harder, than before. But she knew who she was deep down and she was still the Beth who believed in good people and sang when she wanted to.
"It did," she agreed. "Maybe for the better."
"Of course it's for the better. Gotta be strong to live in this world now. You made it didn't you?"
I am strong.
After some silence Abraham opened another bottle of beer, the sound of the cap opening alerting her. She glanced over again and rolled her eyes. "Do you have a tally on how many you've had so far?"
"Place your bet."
Beth thought about it for a moment. "Five."
"Close," Abraham smiled. "Six."
"That's a lot," she said. "You should cool it on the alcohol before you have too much and start dancing in there."
Abraham let out a real bark of laughter, and nodded back to the porch door. "That party would benefit from me dancing in there. Just you wait until I sing. Need you to harmonize with me."
They both laughed, and she would admit that it was nice to share something like that. Laughed at their ridiculousness and the whole situation. But all in all, Beth took and gamble and thought that Abraham probably had a very nice voice.
"But this here," he declared, holding up the beer like it was a precious gem, "this is for you. You'll need it more than me."
"I don't ever drink."
False. She had moonshine with Daryl, but that was her own secret, their secret.
"Never too late to start," he mumbled and then rested the bottle down on the railing within Beth's reach.
Abraham left after that, went back inside with the others, back to Rosita. Beth was grateful once the door closed again and the silence resumed. She rubbed at her head for a moment, accidently brushing over were the bullet wound was. Beth them let her finger outline the scar on her cheek, the staples finally out and a red line remaining. She really didn't care that much about them. Just something that was there.
But still, the whole situation angered her. Her stupidity, mostly. Why she had done what she had done, she didn't even know anymore. She had been irrational. The sound of the gun going off replayed in her mind every day and she had used that to motivate her to find her family, tracking them down. And it worked, in the end, she was there with them, yet she isolated herself onto the porch away from them.
Something was off, and Beth knew that it was probably because of Daryl that she wasn't happy. All she wanted was to be around him, talk things through with him and find out where the hell they were exactly on the relationship spectrum. But he had vanished from her sight as soon as she came back and hugged him after seeing him for the first time since the hospital hallway.
She was tired of trying to be normal for the night. Enough was enough and Beth seriously contemplated hoping over the fence and into the garden to be able to get out of there without more interaction with the others, new people or her family included in that.
But she chose the least of wise decisions and picked up the beer Abraham had left, already hating the smell of it. But she drank it down anyways, and after a little while had gone by and still no sign of Daryl being around, she went back inside to find more alcohol like Abraham and Rosita had resorted to doing. After all, the last time she drank, she felt much better about her situation, so that was what she used to feel better about him decision.
—
She was out wandering the streets of Alexandria, stumbling a bit here and there, mind glazed over. Well, it was more of a bounce than a stumble because she was more of a graceful drunk. She did a few half twirls as she walked about, the silky fabric of her dress feeling nice against her bare legs.
Beth somehow ended up walking back to the party, doing a complete circle around the empty streets. She hadn't realized that she had done it, but the noise of the people inside let her know that she was back.
She sighed, annoyed that she had found her way back to the place she had attempted to get away from.
But then she saw him.
Daryl was standing with his back facing her, looking on at Deanna's house. He was contemplating it, thinking about venturing in. She watched him too, watched his stance as he turned and began to walk away. And that was alright. He had made an attempt, and that was all anyone could ask for.
She smiled because he was trying and it made her want to do the exact same.
The alcohol made her brave so she briskly shuffled her feet forward to catch up with him. "Daryl," she said his name.
He stopped abruptly and turned around to meet her eyes. She also stopped walking momentarily, only because he look he gave her was something she had never seen before. His eyes glazed over her, the dress, her bare legs, her hair that was down and freshly washed, the hint of makeup Maggie put on her. He took it all in with one glance but said nothing.
"You've been avoiding me," she accused him of, feeling a bit of a sting from that fact. It was true though and they both knew it. "Why?"
He didn't try to deny it, just dropped his eyes to the pavement and looked at the house he lived in down the street. She was in the house with Maggie right next door and the distance had left her unsettled. But there would be no quick getaway for him, not now, not when she needed an answer to her question.
"Been busy."
She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. "Bullshit."
He smirked then, a familiar smirk to her because she had seen it numerous times in their travels together. "I know it is."
"Then why?" she whispered.
He took in a breath and started to walk, motioning for her to come too, which she did. They fell in step with each other easily, without even thinking about it. "It's just me."
"You?"
"Yeah. Me bein' an idiot."
Beth made a face. "Not gonna argue with that," she proclaimed, staring up at the clear sky to look at the stars, and saw there was not a cloud in sight. Daryl noticed and glanced over at her again while walking, able to not keep track of where he was going and not be worried of tripping like Beth would be. She quickly shot her eyes back at him to see the blue color of his eyes remaining on her as Daryl's gaze lingered. "You're staring," she pointed out.
"You look…" Daryl struggled to find what he wanted to say and she noticed the look on his face, like he hadn't meant to start to say the thought in his mind. "You look nice tonight."
Beth smiled at the compliment. "Thanks, Daryl."
He then diverted from the path and sat down at a large rock that was in front of someone's property, house lights out, but small solar lights illuminated the pathway to the front door. Daryl's elbows went onto his thighs to rest them there once his hands found a way towards one another so he could pick at his fingernails, head down. It became clear to Beth that Daryl wanted to talk but just didn't know where to start or what to say. Or maybe he wasn't ready to address what it was that was on his mind, the reason he was avoiding her.
Her own thoughts shifted and Beth looked at the new clothes Daryl had on and how clean his skin was. She hadn't seen him this put together on any other occasion. He was always dirty and always uncaring about it, which Beth didn't mind. Part of her preferred him on the dirtier side of the spectrum.
The mixture of alcohol she had was way stronger than the moonshine she had with Daryl and she was brutally honest when drunk. "You good too," Beth claimed, gazing at Daryl as he sat there. "So good."
He looked up at her, eyes narrowing to inspect her. "You been drinkin'?"
It wasn't even a question. He knew that she had been already.
"I was," she laughed, amused that this was actually happening. Her inner thoughts were about to spill out and she couldn't do anything to stop them. "But that has nothing to do with me wanting you."
Wrong thing to say.
Wrong time.
But she wasn't bothered by it. She wanted him to know.
Daryl carefully examined her, looking her up and down again in a way that made her start to fiddle around with the material of her dress, needing to have her hands occupied. "Maybe you should get some sleep."
Beth twirled around in the street and started to walk back to the house she was staying in, trying to make it into a home, but for now, it remained as just a house. "Maybe you should come too. Come sleep with me," she countered, smiling, raising an eyebrow at him as she turned to walk backwards. It was an innuendo not even Daryl would be able to see past.
Daryl chuckled, and it was the first time he had in some time. It made Beth smile at him even though he had stopped looking at her as he got up off the rock to join her walking towards the house. "We need to get you some water."
"Drink lots of water," she cooed, remembering what he had told her in the moonshine shack they had burned down. Beth giggled to herself. "Good memories."
"Really?" he questioned her back, disbelief in his voice.
"Arguing outside was a better one. Remember? When you grabbed me and tried to make me shoot the crossbow for the first time and use that walker as target practice?"
Daryl snorted. "Sorry 'bout that."
"Don't be sorry."
Beth sighed as she ran down the rest of the street, five houses down, and up to the porch of her house enthusiastically. The alcohol was really hitting her hard by that point, and she felt like she was in a happy daze. After all, she was a happy drunk. Daryl had said so himself.
Beth tried the doorknob but it didn't budge. "I don't have a key," she realized, turning back around to see Daryl had caught up with her, standing on the grass. Beth tried the knob again with the same results, thinking to herself that her family must be the only ones in Alexandria who actually locked their doors. Beth turned back around to see Daryl. "Your place?"
Daryl rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, come on."
Beth hopped down off the porch, only then realizing she wasn't wearing any shoes when the grass blades felt soft on the bottom of her feet. Where the shoes had gone to exactly, she couldn't be sure, but she knew for certain that she had worn black flats to the party.
Oh well.
They got into the house with no trouble, and Beth wandered in, feeling the wall as she went. It wasn't the first time she had been in the house before, Carol had brought her inside once, but everything seemed different now that she was alone with Daryl in a house where the lights were dimmed down and a few candles were lit along the table near the entryway.
She can't help but think that there was a romantic feel to the atmosphere.
Just like the funeral home.
"Come 'ere."
Beth followed Daryl into the kitchen and she flicked on the large silver faucet that was surrounded by fancy marble countertops, watched the stream of water in awe for a second or two, then switched it off. She repeated that a few times to make sure that there was actually water there, up until Daryl approached her and grabbed her a glass to fill it up with the water, bubbles filling the glass until they settled down and the glass was clear again. "Here, drink this. It'll help."
"I read that nothing can make you less drunk," she claimed, recalling a magazine she had read when she came across it many, many months ago back at the prison. "Besides, I'm only buzzed. Not a big deal. You've seen me like this before."
"Yeah, yeah," he acknowledged, handing over the water. "Now drink up."
She did what he asked to make him feel better and gulped down the glass of water in under a minute, setting the empty glass down onto the countertops. "Why are you ignoring me?" she asked one more time, pushing him to reveal his reason, letting her voice tell him how upset she was about not being close to him anymore.
He gave her a blank look and Beth had enough. "You're so distant. I can't stand it! Please, if I did something wrong then tell me. I want to fix it."
Daryl began to bite at his nails, startled, but not surprised by the outburst. "You didn't do nothing wrong."
She folded her arms in protest and leaned her back against a tall cabinet across from her so she could fully face Daryl. "Tell me why you're avoiding me and I'll drop it. Please, Daryl, it's driving me crazy. I need to know."
"Because I can't help how I feel," he openly admitted, still biting his nails and looking at the ground, at the safety spot rather than looking for a reaction from her.
Beth's arms dropped and her softer side reemerged. His confession, somehow, some way, had made her feel like her old self again, like nothing had happened since the funeral home. Like she was still the girl outside the moonshine shack burning it down in some sort of therapeutic act of defiance for her traveling companion, her friend, her…Daryl.
Because I can't help how I feel.
"Oh."
So it was true. What she had felt all this time was real and reciprocated.
The look he gave her next was similar to the one he flashed her way at the funeral home right before the dog and the walkers were at the door. The lightening hit his face the right way, mysterious eyes hooded by choppy pieces of dark hair glancing at her with fear in them, fear of rejection, fear of losing her again. He had laid his feelings out on the table to the best of his ability and was letting Beth do the rest, letting her steer the direction this would go in.
She should have said something in reply, but she couldn't contain it anymore. Beth pushed off the cabinet with force and sent herself propelling forward until she was against Daryl, both hands grabbing at him, and she planted a kiss right on his lips.
It was different than she had imagined. Daryl was more gentle with her, his hand coming up so his fingers rested lightly on her forearm as one of her hands was on the side of his neck and the other was on his jaw.
Their lips pulled away slightly from each other but they both remained standing close, an inch from one another.
"Beth," he drew out the syllables. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her name. "You're drunk."
Funny. She didn't feel like it anymore.
She mustered up the ability to shake her head and then Beth went to kiss him again but he prevented her by turning his head at the last second, repeating her name. He thought she was doing this because of the liquor, but that wasn't why. She had thought about this while she had been away from him, thought about it a lot during the night when her mind was blank and something needed to fill up the space of loneliness.
Daryl was always there. He had been there to comfort her while she was alone and in need to some company.
"Okay," she backed down, realizing that Daryl would feel like he was taking advantage of her drunk state, and she didn't want him to feel that.
They stood there close together, for a few more beats, and Beth watched at Daryl's chest rose with every breath he took. She felt how the fingers on her forearm slid down to her side and pulled her in, Beth getting the message, and she pressed into him, arms wrapping around his waist as she tucked her head against his chest.
"I missed you," she whispered, then tilted her head up to look at him. "A lot."
Daryl looked apologetic, even though he had no reason to. "Come on, you know there wasn't a damn day that I didn't think about you." He paused and stopped himself from saying more. "Now, let's get you to bed."
She did feel quite tired all of a sudden, the activities of the day and the night all weighing heavy on her, plus the mixture of that with the alcohol. She wanted to sleep, but she also wanted to stay up with Daryl and tell him everything about her journey to get to Alexandria, her feelings, talk about the past, and the future.
Their future.
But it was too late and Beth felt that it would be alright to wait for another day, a fresh morning, a fresh start. After all, a fresh start was really what everyone needed.
So Beth once again followed Daryl, something she was used to by now, following him was second nature. Up the stairs with the wooden floorboards and into a very dark room that she assumed is an extra guest bedroom with the dark curtains across the window. Beth was already climbing into the bed when she heard Daryl again.
"Hey," he whispered, voice low. "I'm glad you're back. Didn't know what to do without you."
Beth smiled into the pillow, pulling up the sheets. She slipped into sleep after that, what he said next went unheard to her, but it sounded something vaguely similar to I won't ever lose you again.
—
A bright light was hitting her, warm on her face as it streamed through the then open curtains, when Beth finally came out of a long sleep. She rubbed her eyes and then her head, feeling a pounding sensation going on. Never again would she drink, she promised herself that.
When she moved around, she felt that she was still in her dress from last night, but was also in unfamiliar sheets. Beth brushed her hand against jet black sheets, nice cotton ones that smelled nice. But the smell was recognizable to her so she inhaled deeply to make sure she was right, and she was because the smell of Daryl caught her attention. It was very distinct. She could spot it anywhere.
It was his room, his bed, that she was in and not a guest bedroom.
Beth blinked a few times and let her eyes travel around the one side of the room, which had been untouched for the most part. Pictures that had been on the walls were removed and on the floor so that the walls remained a bare white with the outline of what was once a square frame, and a few clothing items were in a ball on the floor. Other than that, it was fairly plain.
Beth twisted around and saw Daryl sitting in the corner in a chair, watching her, waiting for her to wake up. "Have you been there this whole time?"
He nodded and offered a small smile. "All night."
"Why?"
"Wanted to make sure you weren't gonna throw up and choke to death."
Beth let her head fall back onto the pillow and huffed. "I didn't drink that much."
"Could have fooled me."
Beth thought back to the night before, trying to actually remember how much she drank there on the porch and then back inside at the party after that. But one thing other than that came to mind, and she remembered what all happened last night, starting to laugh uncontrollably until it hurt her stomach.
Daryl remained where he was, watching her closely."What's so funny?"
"Me!" she choked out and threw off her covers to sit up in bed, legs dangling off the side of the bed. "I was coming onto you last night, wasn't I?"
A hint of a smirk fell upon Daryl's face. "Just a little bit."
She rolled her eyes. "It was more than that."
"Wasn't that bad."
She perked up. "No?"
Daryl looked up at her. He got out of the chair next to pick up the crossbow, opening up the door to his room so that the following destination was the hallway with the smooth hardwood floors that looked like they had just been shined. "Deanna's got a job for you today," he said, making a quick exit strategy. "We should get going over there soon. I'll go get you an aspirin for your head. You'll need it."
He was gone after that, heading down the hall, light on his feet because she could barely hear the sound of his boots. Beth had watched as he left, the previous conversation replaying in her mind.
