Sunlight filters through the gaps in the wooden barn walls where they're sitting together on the quilt. Their kisses never went past the softness of reconnecting and remembering. Everything just kind of hurts right now. Those memories Daryl's trying not to think too hard on happen to be marching around his head. They're screaming like drunk, abusive fathers, slapping leather belts with sharp, metal buckles against their hands. They're threatening to take over, but he's pushing them away as best he can. These aren't the things he wants to remember. Right now he feels a flicker of deja-vu. There are little echoes of Beth and him all over this loft. The time they spent here together is still lingering in the walls, imprinted like memories and he's remembering. These are the things he wants to remember. She must've been feeling it herself because she smiles up at him and sure as shit, the past comes rushing back in the blue of her eyes and the tickle of hay dust in his nose.

"We've been here before Daryl."

"Yeah, we have." They have. They were. But this, this is different. Nine years ago there were too many things that stood in the way of what they wanted. Now, right here in this place, the future is full of possibility. He did run away, he left her when she needed him most, but he was protecting her and he's here now and that counts for something doesn't it? His brain is screaming,

'No, no way, look at what she did asshole because you left!'

He's not looking, not yet. She's saying his name so he turns his gaze on her.

"Daryl, nothin' is ever gonna make me believe it was wrong. Maybe we couldn't be together. But you loving me, me loving you, that wasn't wrong. It was real, it was..." Her voices trails off and he can't avoid it anymore. Daryl looks at where her hands are clasped in her lap. He saw them during the funeral, sitting beside her, holding her hand in his, but he's avoided giving any thought to the softly worn leather cuff underneath a couple of pretty beaded bracelets that dangle from her left wrist. The sun is reflecting off the tiny crystal beads and drawing his attention right back to her wrist and everything inside of him aches.

This right here is the crux of the matter.

He reaches out and slips his fingers under her palm, gently lifting her hand and turning it over in his own. Pushing the beaded bracelets up her arm, he swallows hard as he lets his finger linger on the clasp of the cuff. He doesn't look at her, doesn't seek out permission before he snaps the clasp open and the cuff drops silently into her lap. A scream or a sob, he isn't even sure which, catches in his throat and tears blur his vision, but he can still see the thin pink scar that spans her delicate wrist.

"Daryl, don't-" Her voice wavers and she tries to pull her hand away, but he's not letting go. He needs to look at it, see it and let himself feel it. Because he's convinced himself that this is all his fault. Gritting his teeth hard, so hard, he tastes blood where he's caught the skin of his cheek in his bite.

" 'M sorry Beth." It's a whisper, did she hear? She finally twists out of his grip and holds her wrist against her body like she's protecting it, from him. And she should, is what he tells himself. She definitely should. He did that. He's the reason.

"It was stupid, I know. I wasn't.." She's explaining it to him as if she knows and maybe she does. Maybe she can explain it so it will all make sense to him. She wasn't what? What is it? The spell is broken because somewhere below a door is opening and Maggie's voice is calling her name. Her sister's tone is frantic and Daryl notices how Beth stiffens and worries at her bottom lip with her teeth.

Sighing, she takes a deep breath, and it sounds to Daryl like she's done this before.

"Up here Maggie." Seconds later Maggie peek over the edge of the loft where she stands on the ladder. Something in their faces must have told her all she needed to know or maybe it was just seeing Beth. Finding her and seeing she was okay. He can't imagine what it was like for her family. Finding her after what she did to leave that thin pink scar and that's another kick right in the middle of his chest.

"I was just looking, you disappeared," Maggie says.

"I'm fine Maggie, just go. Please." She lingers for a moment, watching them and then she's gone and it's just him and Beth looking at one another. "Daryl Dixon if you don't quit looking at me like that I'm gonna come over there and punch you." She's serious and he's remembering.

"Come on Greene! Thought you were a cowgirl!" Daryl and Shawn were sitting in the loft legs dangling over the edge watching Beth try and saddle Nervous Nellie. But like the nickname the boys gave her, the horse is nervous and skittish and tiny ten-year-old Beth is no match for the heavy saddle and a horse that won't stay put. Not to mention the frustration at being watched and teased by the two older boys.

"Want me to saddle her up Beth, I can do it," Shawn called down to his little sister. He actually meant well, it's Daryl who's enjoying tormenting the girl.

"Yeah let yer brother do it. Little thing like you ain't-"

"Daryl Dixon if you don't shut up I'm gonna come up there and punch you!" She had a hand on her hip and just then the saddle slipped and hit Nellie and in the scuffle, Beth was knocked to the ground.

The fear hits Dary right in the stomach. And he and Shawn were out of that loft even faster than the time they were caught by Hershel with two girls and beer up there when they were fifteen. It was Daryl who got to her first and he scooped her up in his arms and out of the general area of Nellie and her hooves.

"Ya okay, Beth? Ya ain't hurt are ya?" His heart was pounding because despite the teasing he loved this little girl like his own sister. And he wasn't the least bit angry when Beth hauled off and punched him right in the jaw.

"Put me down now you big jackass." He was, however, stunned by her cursing and he put her down immediately. She tore off out of the barn calling for her daddy. Shawn fell on the ground holding his stomach laughing so hard he had actual tears on his cheeks.

"Man my little sister just clocked you! You got punched by a ten-year-old girl!" He rolled around until Daryl kicked him in the side.

"Yeah well, yer gonna need them tears, you was teasing her too and here comes yer daddy." Daryl took the tongue lashing he received like a man and didn't feel that taking on her chores for a month was hardly punishment enough for teasing Beth and he said so. Shoulda kept his mouth shut. On top of doing the chores, he got stuck taking Nellie out into the corral every afternoon that summer in order to saddle break her so Beth could ride. That was definitely punishment. In fact, it was torture. That horse hated him.

Beth was in the barn that first day he went to muck her stalls and she had two shovels and a smile.

There are other voices in the barn and Daryl's back from that place where he keeps every memory of her. He feels Beth stiffen, the same way she did when Maggie called out to her. She's smoothing her dress and mumbling to herself, "I swear to God if they don't back off!" He wants to touch her, comfort her somehow, comfort himself, but he doesn't know if that's such a good idea at the moment.

"Bethany Anne Greene get down here. You too Daryl." It's Hershel and he's found them, found him in the loft with his baby girl.

"Fuck," Daryl says under his breath.

"You're telling me? For god's sake, I am a grown woman." She's climbing down the ladder and Daryl follows feeling fifteen years old again.

"You just disappeared, scared your sister. We were frantic!" Hershel lays a hand on her shoulder, but Beth is having none of that. Shrugging it off she backs up just a little.

"Daddy, please, I am not a child and I'm not gonna break! I just needed a minute to breathe, you can't do this, you can't hover!" But Hershel's attention is no longer on his daughter, he's looking intently at Daryl.

"Maggie take your sister to the house. I'd like to talk to Daryl." His eyes are steel and Daryl, knowing Hershel like he does, senses the anger from the set of the man's shoulders.

"Daddy! Stop!" Beth is standing between the two of them looking from one to the other.

"Go, Beth," Hershel says, his voice harsh. Her eyes linger on Daryl and he nods in her direction as if agreeing with Hershel. She needs to go, he needs to do this too. She starts to walk away, but stops at the barn door, turns back and looks at him again. His eyes never left her, hell he's barely stopped looking at her since he saw her again. Now she's standing there caught, he can feel it, it's exactly how he feels. He's gifted with the smallest of smiles as she finally turns and slips out the door.

"I knew something was going on, I knew, but I was so wrapped up in my own sorrow I couldn't deal with it." Hershel is pacing back and forth and Daryl is stuck. He's afraid to move. Then Hershel stops and looks at him, directly at him and his words are like a large hand slapping his face, but it isn't his face, it's a child's face. A little boys face to be exact. Accusing him, blaming him.

"You left and she was broken. And then her momma died and, she tried to take her life, Daryl!" Hershel's face is red with exertion and emotion. Daryl knows this. He knows it all! He didn't want that and he didn't leave on purpose. He would have rather of taken his own life than to think that Beth would be so lost that she would do what she did. But he didn't know. He was protecting her from himself.

"I was in love with her Hershel. I loved her and it wasn't right... she was a child. But I wanted to love her like a woman." Hershel was always stronger than Daryl gave him credit for and that is certainly still true now even though he is an old man. Daryl feels his head hit the loft ladder and Hershel has his denim shirt bunched in his fists. His first instinct is to lash out. But he can't, he won't. Not at him, not this man.

"Did you put your hands on my baby?" Hershel's voice cracks and the tears in his eyes give away that there is more than anger pulsing in his veins. This is how it would have been all those years ago if they'd been found out, and it would have been warranted. Now whether or not Daryl is deserving of it, he's gonna take it, until he can't anymore.

"I did.. I held her in my arms and kissed her and then I left. I wasn't gonna do, it ain't like yer thinkin'! She was a child and I loved her so fuckin' much." Lowering his head he looks at his boots on the dusty barn floor. He wants to be strong, wants to look Hershel in the eyes, but he can't force himself to lift his head and meet the old man's accusing gaze.

Hershel pushes him away with hardly any force at all and he rubs his face. Daryl really sees, for the first time, the old man he has become. And this hurts too. There is so much time lost.

"You could've stayed, put those feelings away, been here. Maybe then, maybe... It's not right for me to think that way. I know that." There isn't any conviction behind that statement, but Daryl knows where it's coming from. He's been haunted by it ever since he came back to town.

"You don' think I think 'bout that?! Fuck… I didn't even know she did it... I, Rick told me when I came back earlier this week. He tol' me it all. I never kept in touch. I left an I didn't look back, let her go so she could grow up an make her own choices. Wasn' my right ta choose what I wanted." He would've stayed, he would've if he'd known what was gonna happen and if he'd thought he'd be able to save her from herself. But he couldn't see that future.

Now it's just too much. All of it. Her, the scar and the broken, empty feelings. And most all the guilt as he looks at Hershel. He took all he can take it's time to leave. Leaving is familiar and in a twisted way, it's a comfort.

"I gotta go.. I gotta.. tell her I'll see her.." He knows he's isn't making any sense, but he thinks that leaving is the best thing he can do right now. This isn't the time, it isn't the place for this discussion. They're saying goodbye to Shawn and it's all falling apart and he doesn't have any right to be here. Daryl likes to tell himself lies. And he believes them all.

Then he's letting his legs carry him out of this place, this eerie pocket in time. And it isn't until he's in his truck and back on the road that he can breathe and choke on the monster that's fighting it's way out. Slamming his fist into the dash, he curses the pain that has very little to do with his hand. Tears blur his vision and he swerves right then left and a blaring horn has him yanking the steering wheel a hard right and into a skid that takes him off the road and into a small ditch. No seat belt, of course, and the impact slams him into the windshield. This time the pain blooms real and fierce and he tastes blood.

Beth watches as her daddy makes his way across the lawn. Family and friends are milling around tables where a lunch prepared by the church has been laid out. They're talking quietly amongst one another and sometimes casually glancing in her direction, but no one tries to approach her. She waits for a moment, but Daryl doesn't follow. Moving slowly, tentatively in her father's direction, she holds her breath, hoping that any second now Daryl will come walking around the corner of the barn angry and sullen, but here. Still here. Not gone.

"Daryl in the barn?" she asks softly. When her daddy doesn't answer, just gives her a sad hollow look, the same one he wore for so long after her momma died, she steps in front of him, forcing him to stop.

"Daddy where's Daryl?"

"He's gone, honey. Come on let's-"

The air is suddenly too thick to inhale, to exhale, to breathe without a hitch in her chest. Backing up she's shaking her head. She looks over her shoulder checking again, just one more time. But Daryl isn't there.

"Where's he at daddy?" Hershel tries to take her hand but she jerks it away.

"He was, he was upset. I just needed to know what happened, make sure he never.." He's uncomfortable, that's apparent, second-guessing whatever it is he said to Daryl. She can read him, she knows without him even telling her.

"You made him leave." It isn't a question. She isn't asking. And suddenly it's the field and Shawn is there and Beth is sixteen and the one person she needed most in the world is gone.

"No, no, no.." She bumps into something soft and hears an ooff!

"Beth what's going-" Maggie reaches for her, but she moves away from her sister's grasp. Moves away from them both.

"You can't keep sending him away! I'm a grown woman-" Wringing her hands she looks from one to the other.

"Bethy I didn't send him away, he left. I'm sure he's gonna talk to you later."

"He wouldn't leave. Not again, not unless you made him! What did you say to him?" She's aware she's yelling now. And drawing a crowd. The people from the church, family friends, her brother's friends. They're all quietly watching and waiting. To see what she does, to see if she breaks. Again.

Rick comes walking over to where they're standing, suspended in the moment, he's holding his phone listening to someone on the other end.

"Where's Daryl Hershel?" Something about the way he's asking and the expression on his face causes a flicker of panic in Beth's chest.

"Well, he left, just about ten minutes ago. What's going on Rick?"

"Got a call, there's truck in the ditch, California plates." Beth doesn't understand what's going on, why does this matter, why is it even important? And then they're looking at her and Maggie is taking her hand saying something about changing into jeans and heading out to the truck. The truck. But it's not Daryl. The truck has California license plates, that's what Rick said.

"Beth, Daryl was living in California before he came back here. Come on now get your boots."

He pulls himself out of the truck and stands for a minute staring at it. When he realizes it isn't going anywhere, it's gonna need a tow, he fishes the bottle of whiskey from the glove box and ignores the blood, his throbbing hand, chin and the way his head is pounding from the impact and just walks.

It's hot and humid and the sun isn't helping his headache. A car slows down as it comes up beside him. There's a blonde girl at the wheel and she's saying something to him, but she's young and blonde and he wonders just how hard he hit his head or if maybe he never even got out of that truck. He keeps walking, keeps going, hopes she'll disappear because this is his mind playing tricks on him again.

"Hey! Mister, you okay? You want a ride or something?"

He stops and leans over fully intending to tell her to get out of his brain and leave him alone, but young and blonde are the only things she has in common with the girl he thought he saw, it isn't her, isn't Beth and he isn't dead and even if he has a concussion, he's not seeing things. Pierced nose and trucker hat on backward, she has brown eyes and freckles and she isn't Beth.

"Didn't yer daddy tell ya not ta talk ta strangers?"

"Ain't got no daddy! Got a mean ass older brother though. You wanna ride or what? You're pretty fucked up. Come on."

"Watch yer mouth, ain't no way ta talk." She laughs at that, rolling her eyes.

"Git in mister."

So he does.

Beth doesn't remember putting on her boots or walking back outside, but here she is standing next to Maggie, still trying to process everything. California, Daryl was in California, but he came back.

"Where's Rick?" Maggie has her arm and they're walking towards Hershel.

"He went ahead. He said he'll give us a call-" Wait. No. Daryl's truck is in a ditch and her daddy sent him away and, and, and...

"You think I'm gonna wait here for a phone call! Daddy? Why?" She feels herself falling apart again. She'd composed herself, or so she thought, up there in her room, shoving her feet into her boots, even with the knowledge that Daryl's truck is in a ditch. His truck is in a ditch. Walking around her daddy she heads toward Maggie's car. She hears them behind her, arguing, over her, but this time Maggie ends it.

"I'm taking her daddy. She loves him and god he loves her. Everything he did was for her. So I'm going. I'll call you." Maggie catches up with her, squeezes her hand and they climb into her car. They aren't even at the end of the drive when Maggie's phone rings. Glancing at the screen she passes it to Beth.

"It's for you."

Beth holds the phone in her hand, it's a long distance number, one she doesn't recognize, but...

"Hello?"

"Beth? That you?" His voice is gravelly and edged with anxiety.

"Daryl? Are you-"

" 'M hurt, not bad. I, can ya come? 'M home. I need ya, Beth."

And there it is, he wanted her then, wants her still. And now he can, she can. It's okay. It's alright. The rules no longer apply. And she's gonna go. She was always gonna go eventually.

"Maggie stop." Maggie does and knows without even asking, who was on the phone and where Beth is going. She opens the door and gets out making room for her little sister to slide into the driver's seat.

"It's okay, right? He's... You're gonna.." Beth smiles and tries to put her sister at ease because of course there's that -worry- and it's probably never going away. She can't change that.

"I'll call you. I promise. I'm.."

"You're a grown woman. I know. Okay. Go." She steps back and wraps her arms around herself and Beth watches her in the side mirror until she turns out onto the highway and she can't see her anymore.

Home. He said he was home and she knows now where that is and she also knows he's okay, well mostly. She flies by his truck in the ditch and she doesn't look because he isn't there. She's going to him. That's all that matters now.

He's lying on his bed where he stumbled when the girl dropped him off. He's got a whiskey bottle by his side and a bag of ice he grabbed from the freezer. It's melting, condensation drenching his shirt where it rests on his chest against the gash on his chin.

Daryl beats himself up- Hershel's words didn't do much more than he'd already done, been doing to himself since he left nine years ago. He is his own worst enemy. Took up where his dad left off. But he doesn't have to do this anymore. It's not about anyone else except him and her now. They get to decide where things go. And it's okay. He can love her without the guilt. She had so much faith in what they could be all those years ago. She had a light inside of her that he'd wanted to follow like a moth to a flame. She hadn't wanted to let go, she was ready to fight. But he left.

What if it's gone? That light inside of her? What if he put it out when he left? He couldn't do that, could he? She's so much stronger than he is. She burns too bright to just be snuffed out like a candle. These are the thoughts that are racing through his head while he waits for her.

He hears the door, it's old and heavy and it creaks and groans like old things do. He noticed that the first time he opened it. Right now he feels as old as that door, full of his own creaks and groans and splintered wood. He listens and he hears her soft footsteps, even in those cowboy boots, he knows she's wearing. Soft thumps, she's stepping lightly in the hard soles. Then she's standing there in the doorway, blue eyes wide and he hears her breath catch in her throat. He imagines how he must look to her. He didn't wash off any of the blood and with the water from the melting ice, he's streaked in pink and red.

"Oh, Daryl."

Then everything breaks open.

Beth didn't think anything could possibly hurt more than him walking away. But this, him laying here bloody and bruised is a pain that's jagged like a shard of broken glass. She lost her momma, lost her brother, thought she'd lost him too. But she hasn't. He was just gone. For awhile.

"Daryl, what did you, why?" Crawling up onto the bed she hesitatingly reaches a hand towards him, but pulls it back, unsure if touching him is okay, doesn't want to hurt him. Daryl grasps her wrist though and brings her hand back to his face and her fingers brush the hair from his eyes. Leaning in close, her eyes follow his injuries. The lump, now turning purple, on his forehead, the gash on his chin still freely bleeding and mixing with the water from the ice, pink-tinged rivulets running down his neck, pooling on his chest. And his knuckles, split and torn, swollen and bleeding. She runs a finger across the back of his hand, he shudders slightly as her gaze slowly runs the length of his body looking again at every injury and they come to rest on his chin. His lips are parted as she leans back in.

"This might need stitches, Daryl," she whispers not wanting to break whatever spell they've fallen under. Because she feels it, it's like way the air feels right before it rains. His other hand comes across his body and cups the back of her head, urging her closer until their lips touch and her blood is humming in her veins. It's a careful kiss, but her mouth's open against his and she's relishing in the warmth of his whiskey tainted breath on her lips. Kneeling there next to him on the bed everything in her wakes up and reaches out to everything in him. She feels desire pool between her legs in her jeans. His fingers tangle in her ponytail, tugging, gentle, but firm and when she moans into his mouth those same fingers press into her scalp and send a jolt of electricity to all the others places she'd like to feel his hands and mouth. But he's hurt and resting a hand on his chest she eases back a little.

"Fuck Beth," he breathes and there's desperation in his eyes. She sees it and knows it because she's feeling it too.

"Daryl, you're hurt, just... slow down."

"Don' wanna, I need ya, need ta know.." he's mumbling and it makes her smile. She lays a hand on his cheek.

"I'm gonna clean you up, there's blood everywhere and you need bandages."

" 'M sorry." He lets his hand drop from her ponytail to his chest and she feels the sting of hair being tugged from her scalp, wrapped in his fingers.

"You should be! Why would you, why would you hurt yourself?" It breaks her heart because she knows why.

"Why would you?" This from him and the fact that his fingers are now wrapped around her wrist and the leather cuff and all that it implies.

"Oh." He isn't going to just let this go. And she doubts she can change his mind, make him believe that the scar on her wrist isn't his fault. In his head, he's probably convinced himself that he held the glass and cut into the soft skin of her wrist. Scooting backward she stands up, eyes still on him. "First I'm gonna take care of you and then I'll let you try and make me believe that this," she lifts that wrist, beads falling against each other making a sound so small it's amazing she can actually hear it, "is all on you." She swallows the lump in her throat and heads into his bathroom, rummages around until she finds what she needs.

He lays quiet while she uses antiseptic wipes to clean the blood off his chin and knuckles. Watching her when she isn't looking. Her jaw is tense and little creases have formed in her forehead as she concentrates on taking care of him. He winces as she patches up his chin with a butterfly bandage. She knows him, knows he won't go to an emergency room and let them stitch up a little cut. He's seen the inside of way too many of those places for more reasons than any kid should ever have had to. He won't go, not for this. When she's finished she picks up the bag of ice, now nothing more than melted water and heads into the kitchen.

Pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed he undoes the snaps on the denim shirt. It's soaked and even though it's summer he's shivering a little. He gets his left arm free and gently eases the right sleeve over his bandaged hand, careful not to catch the cuff on it. His body tenses up when he hears her come in, feels the dip of the mattress as she once again crawls across the bed behind him. The fact that he's got no shirt on makes his face heat up and it has nothing to do with the marks on his back.

She's seen his scars, asked all the questions she needed to when she was just little girl and her innocence gave her license to pry. For some reason, it didn't hurt to tell seven-year-old Beth exactly (well almost exactly) where the scars had come from. She'd nodded, her blue eyes wide and told him no one ought to hit a kid and make him bleed.

'Ain't no reason at all Daryl, that's just plain mean.'

'My daddy ain't nice, not like yer daddy kid.'

'Want my daddy to go give your daddy a talking to? I'll tell him, I will cause them scars make me sad. Ain't no reason to..' She sniffled, rubbing her nose.

'Don't ya cry for me kid. Knock that off, ya hear! I'ma go toss yer ass in the pond!'

That had made her giggle and he'd chased her all over the yard hollering that he was gonna throw her in the pond and somebody better stop him before he did. Which of course brought Shawn and Maggie running to rescue their poor sweet baby sister and Daryl knew he hadn't made Beth forget the scars, but for now she'd let it go. She was a smart little kid.

She'd seen his scars. More than once over the years, but now he's sitting here with no shirt on and just a few minutes ago he'd kissed her and he hadn't wanted to stop, wanted her underneath him with her shirt off, her moaning into his mouth like she was and making him want her so bad.

"Beth.." He isn't sure what he's going to say, but she silences him when she reaches around and lays her hand on his thigh, palm up. The bracelets are gone and it's just that thin pink scar.

"You didn't do this Daryl. This isn't your fault." Her other hand is on his back, gently rubbing the ridges there. "Just like these aren't your fault." He can feel his muscles tense underneath her touch, she's seen them, but she's never touched them and he wants to get up, walk away, make her stop. It's got his gut all twisted up and tears are pricking at the back of his eyes.

"I did this. It was my choice. Doesn't matter that you left, or my momma died, or that my daddy checked out. It was always my choice." She lowers her hand and it's resting on his hip. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she knew that her touching him was too much. There are just things about Beth that defy explanation. But he still doesn't think she's right about this. Not completely.

"Maybe I coulda done somethin', if I'da stayed and just... Dammit maybe if I woulda tried not ta love ya like that, just been there.." He lets his head hang, chin resting on his chest. He might not be completely responsible, but he feels like some of the blame is his.

'And a 9-year-old kid coulda behaved better so his daddy wouldn't rip his back apart with a belt?'

Suddenly her arms are around his waist and her cheek is soft against his back and she's holding him tight.

"Yer gonna squeeze the life outta me girl." He rubs his good hand along her arm, takes her hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses the thin pink scar and it's her turn to shiver. It's warm and her pulse it strong beneath it and it still hurts to look at it, but something lets loose in his chest and it's a little easier to breathe.

"Gotta let it go then. How are we gonna start over, have a second chance it you're holding on to the worst parts of the past?" He turns so he can kind of look her in the eyes because this is important.

"That what we're doing?" His voice is gruff, but the corner of her mouth curves up in a small smile.

"We are, we were always gonna get here. You took my heart."

"Tried ta bring it back. Ya said I could keep it." Teasing her feels so good. Her smile is wide now, lighting up her whole face. "Sides, ya got mine. I figure it's an even trade."

Her laughter is like music to his ears. He smiles and laughs with her even though it tugs at the bandage on his chin and stings a little and it makes his head pound too. But Beth is next to him, tucking herself gently up against him and tugging his arm around her shoulders and laughing, still laughing.

Life falls into place, sort of. There are missing pieces and places that will always remain empty, but they'll fill it up with the life they have now. All of them. There is always a reason to keep going.

It's been a couple of weeks since the funeral and Daryl's accident. He's healing, his knuckles and chin are just scabs. The lump on his head is gone, only a faint bruising is proof that it was ever there at all. Beth watches him now from where's she's sitting on the porch steps. He's standing at the grill, keeping an eye on the burgers and chicken he has cooking there. With a beer in his hand and a small smile on his face as he listens to Hershel. Right now those years they lost don't matter. There will probably be moments when they do, when it hurts so much she'll want to scream, but now is not one of those moments.

She stayed with Daryl that night after the wreck and she made sure he ate and gave him ibuprofen and curled up on the bed next to him and listened to him breathe all night. The next morning she was tired, but he looked 100% better and that was all that mattered to her. They'd headed out to the farm in her car and Daryl climbed the steps to the front door alone, to find her daddy and say whatever it was he needed to say to make peace with Hershel, to make it okay. That's what Daryl had said, 'Gotta make this okay girl.' And he had, or at least he did what he needed to, to get it closer to being okay.

Today they're celebrating Hershel's birthday, just the five of them. A barbecue and a cake and presents that Hershel says he doesn't need because he's got it all. Everything an old man needs to be happy is sitting around the table with him. This makes them laugh, even Daryl, who rarely laughs at much of anything. But he's been smiling a lot lately and Beth thinks that it's better than the prettiest Georgia sunset she's ever seen.

"You get your truck taken care of Daryl?" They're all at the picnic table finishing the chocolate cake Beth and Maggie baked. Beth sees Daryl fiddling with his plastic fork, searching for words, the right words. She wonders if her daddy is always gonna make Daryl nervous.

"I did. 'S gonna be done in a couple days. Jus' glad my bike finally got here." Oh, that's it. The bike. Daryl probably has a pretty good idea of how Beth riding on the back of his bike makes Hershel feel.

"Beth says you got her a helmet? You know having her on the bike scares me, but I'm trusting that she's in good hands." Hershel hates the motorcycle, hasn't hesitated to tell Beth exactly that, but he has been less vocal about it since she found an old picture of him and her momma on a bike, their hair windblown, smiling like they were having the best day of their lives. No helmets at all on their heads.

" 'Mhmm. I don' like it much either, but she wouldn't let up, she's stubborn." Daryl grumbles and Hershel chuckles. She knows he's telling a little fib right there because he does like her on his bike. And she loves it, loves the wind all around her and Daryl solid and warm in front of her insisting she, '..hold on tight ta me girl!'

"That she is. Gets it from her momma." Maggie snorts at that and her and Beth share a smile.

"Where'd Maggie get it from? Cause she always says I can blame you for her stubbornness." Glenn seems to know exactly what to say to render Hershel speechless. Quiet, calm, sweet Glenn. He put a ring on Maggie's finger and come October there'll be a wedding on the farm. Something good, something happy. Another memory for the place to hold. She feels Daryl's hand on her leg and rests hers on top of it.

"I ain't stubborn," she says softly so only he can hear.

"Ya are," he whispers back just as soft. And he laughs, just a little.

They have the farm to themselves for the rest of the weekend. Maggie and Glenn took Hershel down to the coast to fish. He's been watching a program about deep sea fishing and he and Glenn got so excited when it aired out off the Georgia coast, Maggie found out about a trip and booked it for his birthday present last week. Daryl had felt a little left out at first, because he loves fishing just as much as those two, maybe even more. He would have liked to have gone. Until Beth caught him out on the porch that evening after Maggie had told her daddy her plans.

"You wanted to go?" She asked, slipping between him and the porch railing forcing him to put out the cigarette he just lit in exchange for her pressing up against him.

" 'Mmm mighta been okay." He played with end of her braid, she's been wearing it a lot. Says it makes her feel good, doing stuff like that and he ain't complaining, it makes him feel something too, something he can't quite name.

"We're gonna be alone out here while they're gone. I mean, if you wanna stay here with me." Big blue eyes, she can totally pull off the innocent look, cause she is, for the most part. But there is something else in that look and it scares and excites him.

So he was completely okay with not going fishing. Just staying here, alone, with Beth.

When the luggage is loaded he holds her hand and she waves while the car leaves in a cloud of dust down the drive.

Once the car disappears he just holds on and follows when Beth tugs on his hand and heads in the direction of the barn.

Beth stops at the barn door and turns to look at Daryl. There were so many times they stood right here, right here in this spot and looked at one another they way they are now. Back then it hurt because he was trying to run and she was fighting to stay.

"Whatta ya doin' Beth?" She's sure he knows. Has to.

"Taking you back, taking us back," she says it and it makes her a little nervous, but she knows it's right. This is alright now.

It's summer, there's the loft and this time there's nothing stopping them.

Daryl follows her up the ladder, stopping before he steps up into the loft. Damn place always makes him pause. It's like everything they've gone through right here is still here. Doesn't make any sense to Daryl at all, but it's what he feels every time he's climbed that ladder since he's been back. There's a quilt spread out in the sun on the hay. Next to it is a little ice chest.

"Whas' in there?" Daryl gestures towards the small container. Beth is kneeling on the blanket now and she looks a little nervous. She's slipping off her cowboy boots and tossing them into the hay.

"Oh, um some water and a couple of beers, bottle of whiskey... " She's looking everywhere but at him. He makes his way over to the quilt and plops down leaning back on his hands.

"Wha' the fuck ya got whiskey for?" He's never seen her drink before. Oh, she'd snuck sips of his and Shawn's beers, trying to be sly, but her disgusted expression always gave it away. They'd yell at her and threaten to tell her daddy and she'd come back at them with something equally incriminating until it was apparent they were even and neither one was gonna squeal.

"Well we never drank together, you never let me so I thought it might be fun." Now it's obvious she's nervous, she's doing that weird giggle. The one she does when she isn't sure what else to say or do.

"Fun? Huh... Didn't let ya drink cause ya weren't old enough girl." He pulls the chest over next to him and opens it up. Sure enough, there's whiskey and a shot glass, which makes him smile. She's gotta know he'll just drink it straight from the bottle. "Ya ever drink whiskey?"

"Daryl I'm 25, of course, I've had whiskey. And I've been to bars and I'm not a virgin." The last part comes out fast and breathy and he's in the middle of taking a shot of said whiskey and chokes on it, sputtering and wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

"What the hell Beth, ya tryin' ta kill me?" She told him over a week ago that they'd have the farm to themselves if he wanted to stay, and he'd wanted to. He was also well aware of the things she didn't say and what they meant. So he supposes that this conversation is probably expected, but he's not sure what or where or how to go about it.

"I just thought you should know, ya know because.." She's starting to fall apart. He can see it. She hasn't looked directly at him and she's fiddling with her bracelets and picking at the quilt. She's nervous and maybe even scared. He's definitely both. He pats the blanket beside him.

"Com'ere." She settles in next to him and he hands her the bottle. "Don' need no shot glass. Jus' drink." She does, wrapping her lips around the top of the bottle. He probably shouldn't be watching this. Her mouth on that bottle. No, he really shouldn't be watching this.

"I ain't a virgin neither." She shoves the bottle into his hands, giggling at his admission. As if at 34 years old it's even surprising.

"I didn't think you were Daryl, I'm not that naive." She stops giggling and sighs. "You didn't I was did you?" she asks.

"Tried not ta think 'bout that." He's being completely honest. When he let his mind wander and think about her over the years he avoided the things he didn't want to know and thought about the good things, her graduation, going off to college, how proud her family would be, how he wished he could be there.

"Me either." She's playing with her braid, curling the end around her fingers. "I wanted you to be my first, I always wanted that, even after, it was stupid, I know," she's smiling, but he sees the tears in her eyes and he feels a deep ache in his chest for the things that they lost just because of the circumstances, the things they couldn't control.

"I couldn' take that from ya Beth." Why does it hurt to say that? He lifts the whiskey bottle to his lips but doesn't drink, he's listening to her.

"You could've. You wanted me, I know you did, but you didn't. I was so hurt then, but I get it now Daryl. You did something good, right, I-"

"I broke yer fuckin' heart and I left ya here and it couldn't be any other way." That's it. That's all. He wants to hurl the whiskey bottle across the loft, scream at something or someone, put the blame somewhere else, put the hurt somewhere else, anywhere else, but here. Because they both came back and it's supposed to be okay now isn't it?

"Daryl?" Only her voice can bring him back. It's always been her. And when she cups his chin, turns his face to hers, makes him look at her, she's smiling. "We can have this. Now. We can have-" She's blushing and biting her bottom lip and it's the most beautiful thing, seeing her so vulnerable. "Daryl we can have a first time." She's crying and smiling and he's helpless, trying to process it all.

They can have this. They couldn't then, but now they can and he's completely terrified.

Beth feels all of sixteen years old again, shy and nervous and Daryl looks scared and uncertain. And somehow that is kind of perfect. Because if they had had this all those years ago it would have been just as awkward and scary as it is right now.

The stuff she's done, the other guys she's been with, those experiences only give her a general idea of the mechanics of it all. And to be honest there aren't many. She said she wasn't a virgin, and that's the truth. She knows that this time will be different. This time will matter in a way none of the others did. Maybe it will be the same for him. She hopes it will. This is the one she's been waiting for, he's the one. This with him will mean everything that it's supposed to mean. And she's been waiting forever.

She glances over at him, his head is down and he's just staring at his hands that are folded in his lap. She laughs a little, a quiet, nervous, little laugh that makes her feel incredibly stupid. His head immediately jerks in her direction.

"Whas' so funny?" He's glaring at her, but she can tell he's nervous too, she can hear it in the way his voice quavers. The sun's moved a little since they climbed the ladder and it's casting purple shadows on the wall of the loft. They dance across his face and she wants to say something to put him at ease.

"It's just- I feel like this really is my first time. Like I'm nervous. Kinda silly." It hurts just a little too. All these feelings.

"Me too Beth, don't feel like I deserve this." His hand is shaking the tiniest bit as he reaches over and takes hers, laces their fingers together and just holds on.

"Daryl we don't have too, I mean we have time if you wanna-" She doesn't want to wait, doesn't want to stop where this is going. She knew what she wanted when she took his hand and led him to the barn. But she'll wait, for him, if he needs her too. The hand that isn't holding on to hers for what feels like dear life, brushes her cheek, fingers find their way to her shoulder, trace the curve of her collarbone so softly it makes her shiver.

"Hell no! I want ya, Beth, god, I fuckin want ya so bad I don't know what ta do, where ta start.." His finger rests in the hollow of her neck.

When you finally get the one thing you've wanted forever, waited forever to have, figured you'd never have... When it's finally within your grasp, what the hell do you do with that? Beth thinks that this is how they're both feeling right now, but he wants her and she wants him. So.

"How about you kiss me," she whispers, "just kiss me, Daryl."

Hand cradling her head, he's leaning her back, laying them both down onto that quilt where the sun has decided to focus all of its light. Beth's fist is knotted in his shirt and he tangles his hand in her hair, the braid weaving in and out of his fingers. She's warm and so sweet and their kisses are gentle at first, but quickly escalate into a frenzy. He licks into her mouth, tongue searching and she sucks his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging gently and making him moan deep in his throat. She's hot beneath his hands and he drapes himself over her so she can feel him against her hip, feel what she's doing to him. He's so hard, cock straining against his jeans and she's squirming beneath him, mewling like a kitten. She arches her back and grinds her hips up against his hardness, ankle around his calf for leverage and it takes his breath away because this, this right here is what made him run all those years ago, that she could do this to him, make him want her.

But he can.

"Jesus Beth.." He's having trouble remembering to breathe because she's let go of him and she's struggling with her tank top, trying to pull it over her head and still keep her legs wrapped around him. He sits back on his knees and pulls her up with him and he helps her pull her shirt over her head. Grabbing the collar of his own shirt, he yanks it off. She raises to her knees and reaches behind her back and then her bra is falling in the hay with their shirts. He sees the rise and fall of her chest and the color high on her cheeks. Reaching out she uses his shoulder for leverage as she raises up from her knees. He hauls in a breath then and tenses up as her hands find the buttons on her cut off jeans. They slide easily over her hips and knees, followed by soft lavender panties and she's standing in front of him where he kneels in the hay, her skin like ivory in the slanting sunlight, hands modestly covering herself. It takes his breath away. She's here in front of him like a gift, like a wish that he's been granted. He runs his hands up the backs of her thighs, over the curves of her ass and rests them on the small of her, back urging her forward, closer to him. He brushes a kiss just above her belly button and raises his face to look up at her.

"Don' cover yerself, yer fuckin beautiful Beth." A soft hand brushes back the hair from his face and she smiles one of those smiles that he remembers from the field and the table at Sunday dinners. All Beth, blue eyes and sunshine. Standing up, he reaches behind her head loosening the band that holds her hair.

"I wanna see you too Daryl." She's got a finger in his belt loop and her eyes never leave his hands as they work the buttons on his jeans. Before he pushes them down over his hips he leans in and kisses her sucking her lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it, successfully throwing her off balance just enough so that she has to wrap her arms around his neck, then she can't watch him undress because he's done this before, but not with her and he's so fucking self-conscious right now. Then his jeans are off and he's holding her against him, his hard cock trapped between their bodies, trapped against her, and this alone could make him come if he thinks about it too hard.

"Hey... no fair. You got to watch me, you got... oh Daryl that.." She's breathing fast, rapid little breaths because he has one breast cupped in his hand and he's running his thumb back and forth over a hard nipple. His mouth is on the other sucking it gently and he's trying his best to calm his nerves, convince himself this isn't all a dream he's gonna wake up from.

"Lay back down." Daryl's mouth is against her ear and she shivers at the huskiness in his voice and what his hand and mouth were just doing to her body. The air is cool on her wet skin, her nipples are hard and the skin around the areola is puckered, pulled taut. As she lowers herself down onto the quilt he starts to follow, but she presses a hand against his thigh, now it's her turn.

"Wait, Daryl, just wait." He stops and stands before her and it makes her ache, him there like this. He's beautiful. Not that he'd believe it if she said so.

His body is marked with scars, but it's solid and strong. Beth can see the definition of his muscles underneath his skin that's so dark next to hers. Fading tattoos and sparse amounts of hair sprinkled on his chest, his legs, around his cock that juts out from between his legs, hard and dark purple with desire for her. Precome glistens on the head, her own desire is slick between her legs and it's never been like this before, she's so wet, no other man has done this to her. Ever. At his sides, Daryl's hands are opening and closing, balling into fists. She can sense his anxiety. Unlike her, his vulnerability isn't as obvious, she covered herself with her hands, tried to hide parts of herself. But unless he closes them, one look in his eyes and she can see everything, she can read him. The way he says her name, it's almost like a plea, begging her to let him go.

"Beth," his voice, even though it's gruff is somehow soft. He takes the hand she's holding out to him and lowers himself down beside her. This is a safe place. For them both. Her hand is so small on his chest, tracing the subtle ridges of his abs and down even further until her slender fingers find his hardness, his breath hitches and he moans so softly it's barely there, but it is there and what she's doing, it's drawing those sounds out of him and it thrills and mystifies her. Reaching out, he takes her wrist, stills her hand. It's too much. His body is tense under her hand and she knows if he was touching her, if he slipped his fingers between her legs, just the thought alone is enough to make her gasp and she's on her knees, arms around his neck pulling him down, onto the quilt in the hay, the warmth of the sun and her body until he's hovering over her, hands on either side of her head, biceps straining. She can feel his cock, heavy between his legs, bumping against her pussy and she raises her hips a little craving contact.

"Make love to me Daryl, I wanna feel you inside me, I need.." What does she need? He's moving down her body, the scruff on his cheeks rubbing the soft skin of her belly, hands under her hips lifting her just so and warm breath that threatens to push her over the edge because she knows what he's gonna do, where his mouth is going.

" 'M gonna, jus' lemme, fuck Beth I wanna do this first, I wanna taste you, make you come." Even if she could form words, which she can't, she can barely even breathe, she wouldn't say anything, just nod like she's doing now because suddenly all that matters is that he leans in and puts his mouth on her.

Daryl lets himself drown in her, the feel of her on his lips, his tongue, the taste, and smell, it's all new, it's all her and he's been waiting forever to know this part of her. Her hands are in his hair and she's tugging gently, whispering his name over and over like a mantra. And he's here between her legs, his fingers stroking along with his tongue. He pushes one finger inside of her, hoping to get a reaction and he isn't disappointed.

"Daryl.." she shudders and gasps thrusts her hips up and her muscles clench around his finger and he growls into her. Into the warmth and wet and all he can think about is burying his cock inside of her and how good it's going to feel.

But first, he's gonna make her come.

He opens her up with his other hand, spreads her gently, sucks softly and her clit is so swollen and she's shaking and then she's coming undone. Because of him. It's beautiful, she's beautiful. He presses kisses to her inner thigh and crawls up and over her. Her eyes are closed and she's got this delirious smile on her face and it makes him laugh out loud.

"Ya like that?" He feels kind of stupid asking her that, but the words are already out there, he can't take them back.

"Oh my god, yes." Her hands are in his hair again, brushing it back from his face where it's sticking to his skin. Her skin is sparkling with a light sheen of sweat, the same sweat that's dripping off of him and he's sure it doesn't look as good on him as it does her.

"Had ta have had that done to ya before?" He cups a breast squeezes firmly not sure if he wants to know the answer.

"Well yeah, but it never ended quite like that." Okay, that's not so bad. He leans down and kisses her and he's aware of the fact that she's tasting herself on his lips and that does something for him, reminds him of where he wants to be, where he wants his cock to be.

"I want ya girl." He rolls his hips against her, whispers this against her cheek. Sitting back on his knees, he reaches for his jeans and digs in the pocket. She props herself up on her elbows, hair a mess of tangles around her face.

"What're you... Oh." He has the small, square packet in his hand. His eyes flick to her, gauging her reaction. "You been carrying that around?" She's teasing him, but he can take it. What he can't take is her naked beneath him and him sitting here holding a condom in his hands. It needs to be on him. And he needs to be inside of her.

"Uh huh." He tears it open and awkwardly tosses the empty wrapper aside.

"Thought you just might get lucky?" Her blue eyes are sparkling now. And they're focused on his cock as he slides the condom on.

"I was fucking praying I would Beth." His voice is low and gravely and filled with want. Cause he wants her so bad. He's been with women, enjoyed it even. But this, this is Beth and this is what he's wanted for what feels like forever. Before he can lay back down with her she's up and in his lap. Straddling his lap to be exact. They aren't even on the blanket anymore and he can feel the hay pricking his knees, but he doesn't even care.

"Like this Daryl, right here like this." Breathy directions, but she's got this, got him. He holds onto her hips while she guides him, small hand on his cock. She sinks down on him and he holds her there, hands on her thighs. Still.

"Love you Beth..I love... fuck." She's rocking against him, arms around his neck and he can feel her hard nipples graze his chest everytime she leans in, takes him in deep.

"I love you too Daryl, love you forever." They don't last like that for long, him on his knees and her riding him. She leans back, pulls him with her, onto the quilt. Her legs find their place around his waist and he's trying to be gentle, but its impossible. He can't get enough, can't go slow.

"Beth.." he's whining, actually fucking whining and she gets it. She wants it too.

"Just fuck me, Daryl, come on.." He buries his face in the sweet softness of her neck thrusts hard and fast.

Beth had, over the years tried to imagine what this moment with Daryl, would be like if it happened. It always hurt to think in terms of 'if', but she tried to be honest with herself. She never quite gave up hoping though.

'One day you're gonna fall in love with me, Daryl.' They were sitting on a picnic table outside The Varsity eating fries and milkshakes. He'd picked her up from school like he had been for the past month. He'd get her fries and then drop her off at the hospital where her momma was having her chemotherapy treatment.

'Keep on hoping kid.' He tried to sound ornery and disinterested, but Beth saw how the tips of Daryl's ears turned pink when she said that. He loved her. Not in a creepy way. Cause she was still a kid, but one day, one day she just knew he'd love her like she wanted him to.

'If you don't have hope, what's the point of living? I got plenty. Don't need it though.' She popped a milkshake covered fry into her mouth and giggled at Daryl's expression.

'Yer digustin' I ain't never gonna love ya.' He smirked at her and she giggled and when she got home later that day she plucked a dandelion from the grass beside the front steps, blew gently and scattered its delicate seeds into the wind. While Daryl smoked a cigarette on the porch with Shawn and pretended not to notice.

The reality is better than anything she'd tried to imagine. Because Daryl is here and he loves her and he's currently doing everything he possibly can to push her over the edge again. His body under her hands is hard and hot and she wants to make him feel as incredible as he's making her feel.

"Daryl.. slow down, just stop for a minute." He does and he looks so confused she runs a hand up his chest and cups his cheek. "It's okay... it's good, it's so, I wanna be on top, I want to for you, so.." She's a little tongue-tied and nervous, but he flips them over so fast and his smile is huge and his face is flushed and she knows that this was a good choice.

Somehow he's managed to keep his cock inside her and once he's on his back she starts grinding against him, leans over with a hand on either side of his head, licks his lips softly with the tip of her tongue.

"Now I'm gonna make you come," she whispers. He bucks up into her and all her nerve endings are alive and dancing and she can feel him all the way up inside her.

"Keep talking like that and I ain't gonna last." That's all the encouragement she needs pushing down on him, rolling her hips, moaning when he gets his hands on her tits, fingers pinching her nipples.

"Come for me, Daryl. I want you to.." He groans and pulls her against his chest, body tense underneath her as his orgasm rolls through him. Sliding a hand between them she only needs to use her fingers, circle her clit a couple of times and she's following right behind him. Even before they've come down from the high he rolls her on her side and tilts her chin up so he can kiss her mouth and her cheeks, even her nose.

"Oh my god girl! I didn't know, didn't know it could be like this. It could be.." He has tears in his eyes, on his face and she can feel them on her too.

"It was always gonna be like this Daryl." It was. It really was.

Epilogue

"Sterling! Bryce! Get over her right now!" Daryl chuckles watching Beth, hands on her hips hollering at their unruly daughters. Glancing over her shoulder she raises an eyebrow and he does his best to make his expression neutral. Obviously, he fails. "What the hell are you laughing at? They aren't listening at all!" Her blue eyes flash and he fights the urge to grab her and kiss her right there.

"Hell Beth, they're Dixons! And female and four years old. They've been waiting to come home for weeks now." That one word, home, is what gets her. Her eyes fill with tears and his hands are on her shoulders and he's pulling her in, tucking her under his chin, up against his chest where's she's always felt safe. "Always been home, ain't it girl?"

She's nodding warm breath on his skin. Now it's home for good. A year ago her daddy joined her mama and Shawn under the old oak tree. And Daryl, knowing that this was what Beth wanted, took his family back to the farm and the house Beth grew up in. They would continue to fill it with laughter and tears, good days and bad ones. And life. Just life.

Two little girls as different as night and day come screeching from the direction of the barn. Blonde and brunette, curls wild in the warm evening air. Cowboy boots and bare feet, sundress and jean overalls, right before they reach their momma and daddy they clasp hands and giggle at some secret only they share.

"Papa's house is our house now! Ain't it daddy, we got us a farm! Can I git a puppy now?"

"Daddy I want a horse, a big white horse and I'ma call her princess and-"

"Slow yer roll girls. Momma gits the first horse. And chickens and some of them black and white cows too if she wants 'em." He glances down at where she's still pressed against his chest.

She's crying and laughing and getting him all wet and snotty, but he's filling her heart with so many things it's overflowing from her face. Pushing away from him Beth takes off running, laughing over her shoulder and it isn't but a second later he's right behind her chasing her then circling around and grabbing her, tumbling them down into the tall grass, his face in her hair and her lips on his neck. The laughter of two little girls ringing through the air. After all this time their hearts are right back at the beginning. Life doesn't guarantee a happily ever after, but they're coming pretty close.

~fin