"Will you consider it?"
Well, she was.
The question Eric proposed was wandering around in her mind and she really was considering it at this point. It was the offer to move in with Eric and Aaron instead of living in the house across the way with Maggie, Glenn, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, and Eugene. All Eric and Aaron were doing was trying to do give her some separation from the rest and she was realizing that was what she needed, at least for a little while she got her head straight and worked through everything.
Glenn wasn't quite sure how to act around her anymore or what to say.
Rosita asked too many questions.
Eugene liked to stare at her scars and it was beginning to make her want to throw a knife at him, to be completely honest. Either that or he flirted way too much…and then that made her want to throw knives.
And it wouldn't be the first time she stabbed someone with a knife, but that was another story, the haunting one from her journey on the way to Alexandria.
So the separating herself made sense, at least she hoped. Her head wasn't entirely on right, not after everything that had happened. She had to get herself on the right path first before she started reconnecting with the family members that had left her behind. She had to connect back with herself before that could happen.
—
Night fell and Daryl dragged his way back to the house they were staying at. His hands were covered in blood from taking out the insides of that raccoon he caught earlier. And the squirrel. And the possum. They never had a chance and Daryl didn't feel bad about it one bit. It was one of the only ways he maintained feeling the slightest bit normal there in Alexandria, going back to the one thing he knew how to do well, which was hunting.
But he had gotten outside of the house, standing there on the lawn, and just looked at it for a good minute or so and decided he didn't want to go any further and that sitting there on the porch in the dark was a much better idea since no part of him really wanted to go inside. Not now. Not before. And not really anytime in the future either. So he planted himself on the top step and watched as no danger appeared and sorted through the animal parts he took back. For how long he was out there for, he had no clue. But then again, it would be looked down upon if he camped out on the porch all night, every night. So he reluctantly sighed and scooped up the parts of the animal he probably wouldn't find a use for and chucked them into the lame garbage can at the end of the yard.
He didn't get it, the suburban living. It really fucked with him. But he kept his mouth shut for the most part and ignored his thoughts for the benefit of the group since they were the ones who were back in a place that was familiar, that kind of living.
They had been so weak from travelling, from the lack of food and water with little to no shelter that it made some sort of sense to stay. They had been weak from so much, actually. Weak from the constant fear of a herd of walkers coming through and making a lunch out of them, tearing their insides out during a feast. Weak from all the killing of living people who had turned down a dark path. Weak from pushing away the desire to give up hope. Weak from the misery brought down on him because he watched Beth get shot and ripped away from him as soon as he had let himself feel relieved for getting her back and safe.
No.
No.
He couldn't think about it.
It hurt too much, even then when she was walking around Alexandria, living, breathing. The image of the blood flying back at him and her body dropping her to the floor in a pool of red was burned into his brain and would always haunt him no matter what.
No.
He wouldn't let himself think about that day, that second in time where his world actually ended and time seemed to slow down to a pace that would forcibly make him suffer. Thinking he had lost her was easily the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Nothing else could compare.
And now he got a bit lost about what to do or what to feel now that his everyday nightmare was over and Beth was there with him. Part of him thought it was still a dream but the majority of his brain knew it was reality. Beth was alive and she was there and he would do absolutely everything to keep it that way, which is why he kept his distance. Well, part of it at least. He was mostly just afraid to get close again.
Story of his fucking life, though. Never wanted to get close to anyone. Then she happened and he let her in and she saw him for who he was which was probably the scariest thing of all, to be that vulnerable. He let her in and she didn't judge him, not once. He let her in. And just as he got her back she was taken away again. Maybe it was the universe telling him something, smacking him right in the face before ripping out his heart and pushing him back down in his place. Maybe it was karma for all the bad stuff he had done in the past, or had let happen. Now he wasn't allowed to care for Beth Greene in the way that he knew he wanted to, couldn't have those feelings for her, couldn't have that nice warm sense of having someone there.
He fucking loved that girl, dammit, and he couldn't. Just couldn't.
Now he was afraid that if he got close again she would be taken from him, like he was the cause of it all. Distance was better. Distance was safe for her, she could stay alive that way. And he would much rather her be alive and not with him than dead and him be left behind to relive the memories that tortured him.
So he told himself he would shove all the desires back down and place them into a corner of himself so they would be contained. He couldn't risk acting on them, not anymore. He got one kiss out of it, lips soft and warm, and yes, he had wanted so badly to give in and pick up where they left off. There had been a lot more that Daryl wanted to do to her that night other than kiss her, but he stopped himself. She was drunk, he was broken. Only thing now was that Beth was sober, but Daryl was still the same broken mess that he was since the hospital.
The same mess he had been his whole life.
Daryl shook his head to get the thoughts out. It didn't help but he'd like to think that maybe one day he would be able to shake the thoughts and memories away.
The house was empty upon entering it. It was eerie to him, the way he would walk in, close the front door, and everything would be so silent that he could hear a pin drop on the pristine floors down the hall. But that wasn't the eerie part, that was the whole coming back to an actual nice house, one that had beautiful pictures on the wall and a full kitchen, beds to sleep in with high thread count sheets, and the basics like running water that was clean.
Got him every time. How they found this place, how it even stayed together without people coming along and wanting to take it for themselves. It was a mystery.
No lights were left on and he didn't bother to flick the light switch, uncaring about walking through the dark and up the stairs. The floorboards creaked slightly on the top step of the second floor when he got there, which was probably the only thing wrong with the house all together.
He knew where to go once on the next floor, which room had been designated as his, but he had never stayed longer than a minute in there before. Opening it up, Daryl went for the bathroom that was attached to his room, one he had all to himself, another luxury he never had before. He figured he would make good use of it that night since maybe it would be wrong to mess up everything he touched with his bloody and dirt covered hands so he should really wash them off and clean himself up a little. Realizing the light inside was on the dimmer and was at the lowest setting, he figured that someone must have left him more fresh towels again, even though last time they had gone unused.
Daryl reached for the door and went in a few steps. His mistake. But Daryl always somehow ended up in an awkward situation so he should have been more prepared.
There before him was Beth.
In the bathtub.
In his bathtub.
Naked.
Daryl was stunned for the first time in his life. Even though he couldn't actually see anything since Beth had her back against the wall of the white bathtub with her legs up so they were pressed against her chest and that way she could hold onto her legs, wrapping her arms around them, and rest her chin on the space in between her knees, there was still so much skin that he had never seen before that he froze up for a good few seconds. And those seconds consisted of him blatantly staring at her as Beth's eyes stared back at him with not much of her own surprise showing through, blinking only a couple of times, waiting.
Apparently the intrusion hadn't startled her as much as it had startled him because he was really fucking thrown off base with this one.
Daryl then looked away as he dropped his gaze, cursing himself because more images of her would now be floating around in his mind late at night, flooding in without control and making him want things he couldn't have. Daryl tried to back out of the bathroom quickly, only to have his crossbow hit the doorframe, causing a loud noise and cutting a slash into the white wood. He quickly pulled it away before he did more damage, only to bang his side, right on his rib, on the silver doorknob because the door had swung back quietly without his knowledge and he had jerked back to get the crossbow away from the frame. And damn, that fucking doorknob hurt so bad he nearly felt like ripping it right off.
But that would look bad.
That would make him look wild and out of control.
And it was only a doorknob.
Meanwhile, Beth had been quiet, watching as it all played out in front of her, watching him turn into an awkward mess due to the knowledge of her nakedness in the tub and how he had managed to be so clumsy. "Sorry," he muttered her way, feeling bad that he not only walked in on Beth but he also interrupted her quiet time alone, despite her being in his bathroom.
"Stay," she asked, perking up a bit, voice higher than usual. When Daryl just stood there being torn on what to do she added, "Please."
No. Don't do it.
He shouldn't. It would be wrong. So wrong. But Beth picked up her head and was staring up at him with these eyes that were practically begging him to stay there with her and they were too hard to ignore. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, undecided, because shit his mind didn't work right around her. He knew what he should do but then there was the devil on his shoulder telling him not to turn down the invitation.
Fuck it, he went with.
Daryl didn't have the strength to deal with his inner conflicts anymore than he already had that day.
Sighing, mainly to himself about giving in so easily, Daryl grabbed that same doorknob that screwed his side up moments before and slowly moved the door until it shut, where he released the knob. Since he was still facing the closed door, Daryl leaned to set the crossbow down onto the tile floor closest to the sink and got down also, avoiding looking at Beth, but he was also avoiding looking into the mirror since he was afraid of seeing himself, as if it was going to show him exactly what he was doing wrong, showing the real him and his mistakes.
There was silence as he sat with his back up against the wall, eyes fixated on the crossbow in front of him that he had carried with him for so long, since back at the prison.
The prison.
The kind of life that they had all lost there. The security. The community. He had hated it so much to begin with, being in there all trapped like animals, but had then grown fond of the place and the opportunity it presented. But then there was the actual innocent human lives that they had lost there among the pit of death and destruction.
Another thing he didn't want to think about.
"You're filthy," she commented, staring him down while she analyzed, bringing him out of the dark hole of thoughts he had fallen into so many times over. "Were you hunting today? There's blood under your nails."
He nodded to her, for the first time feeling disgusting from all the dirt packed on his skin and the animal blood that had dried under his unclipped nails. "Wasn't the only one outside the gate today," he mentioned, referring to how she had been up to something earlier. He had seen the dirt on the side of the tub she had scrubbed off and there was too much for it to be from just walking around the town. He'd like to inspect for any damages done, to make sure there were no cuts or fresh bruises on her to make sure all was well, but that was out of the question considering the situation he had stumbled into. Daryl shifted his eyes in her direction for a second before straightening his head back to the front, where his eyes belonged. "How did you sneak out?" he questioned her.
She didn't give anything up and he didn't really expect her to. "Doesn't matter how I got out. I just did. It was the only way to be alone."
"When?"
"Earlier," she replied quickly, nothing too specific, which made him more and more curious, but mostly concerned since her safety was the most important thing to him.
"Where'd you go?" he questioned further, voice deep and raspy, waiting impatiently for an answer that would maybe tell him a little bit more information.
"Around."
"You ran into trouble," he said immediately after, intentionally not wording it as a question. He knew something had happened out there that day, probably an unexpected run in with a walker, he assumed, and that was why so much dirt was on her in the first place.
"I took care of it."
She had worded it as if it was something as simple as going out and getting groceries. I took care of it. Like it wasn't as if a flesh eating bastard was trying to get at her. And for some reason, just the casual tone she had used, that brought a bit of anger to the surface for him, and he snapped back, "Can't be doin' that, Beth. Can't be leaving and not tell anyone. Going alone ain't an option anymore. You tryin' to get yourself killed out there?"
Shit. He didn't mean to say that, not that last part.
A flood of regret hit him all at once.
"What do you care?" she threw at him, the tone of anger sliding on through unexpectedly. He was half anticipating a plastic bottle of shampoo to be chucked his way, but when it didn't come, Daryl waited for the verbal assault instead, knowing he was deserving of it. "I walk around town and you ignore me. I come back here for everyone, for you. I kiss you, I throw myself at you, and then guess what happens…nothing. I get ignored like the goddamn plague." There was a pause and a sniffle but Daryl still didn't have the courage to look her in the eye and see how hurt she was so he kept his back straight and his head down like a dog who was in trouble, picking the blood out from under his nails and onto his lap as he accepted everything she threw his way. "I guess I'm still a dead girl to you, huh? Can't even bother to look at me when I'm five feet away."
Daryl understood where the sudden hostility was coming from, and he sure as hell felt bad about it, all of his actions and words, they all seemed so awful in retrospect. He hadn't treated her fairly, plain and simple. "You're mad," he acknowledged, still picking at his fingernails to avoid looking over at her still naked body in the bathtub. "I get it."
She sounded disbelieving when she asked, "Do you?"
Her tone said it was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyways with a quiet, "Yes."
"Then stop avoiding me."
It was true, he had been avoiding her. Killed him inside to do it too, especially when every single fiber that made him who he was told him to go to her, to see her. Ignoring that feeling was the hardest thing he ever had to do. The conflict of wanting to be around her and the light she brought to him, but also being afraid to approach her was slowly tearing him to pieces. And he let it happen. Let himself get all fucked up from it all—his fucking feelings and his brain telling him not to even go there again. Because the universe knew that Daryl Dixon liked to put himself in bad situations where he felt pulled in every direction.
The universe also liked to let Daryl have something and then take it away.
Lucky fucking him.
Still, his thoughts travelled back to the funeral home and how nice it had been there. Quiet, he remembered, like it was out in the woods when he hunted. He remembered the candles all spread out and lit as they sat down to dinner and how Beth had smiled to herself as they sat down and she took out the pen and paper to write a thank you. He had felt so at home there with her, not something he had ever felt before. Suggesting they should stay there wasn't a mistake, his only mistake was letting his guard down and not even thinking to look out the damn window to see what was at the door.
It was his fault. He knew it.
And that was the worst part of it all—he could have prevented so much from happening.
He was the reason Beth was taken. He was the reason she was bruised and cut up when she was at the hospital. He was the reason she took a bullet to the head.
Daryl sighed, disgusted by his actions, and crossed his arms over his chest because he thought it might be the only thing to hold him together as all the guilt set in deep and tortured him once again. He told himself he wouldn't think about it and there he was doing just that.
Daryl's demons never quieted down.
How convenient.
And as he sat there on the floor of the bathroom with his boots flat up against the light brown cabinets in front of him that were holding up the sink, he tried to not let the emotion show along with desperately trying to not to look over and get another glance at the beautiful girl who was comfortable enough around him that she sat there in the tub naked a few feet away from him and didn't beat an eyelash about it. And it wasn't like he would be able to see anything but that wasn't even the fucking point.
"Daryl?" she said his name, seeing his thoughts get the best of him.
She could always tell, he found out on their journey together, that even when he didn't want her to see the pain he was in, Beth could always pick up on it. Either he had gotten worse at hiding it or Beth was too attuned to his pattern of behavior.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Beth moving. Only then did he look over to see her submerge her body up to her shoulders in the water and then moved forward creating small waves, resting her cheek on the white bathtub edge. "Tell me," she encouraged, hand drifting over the side towards the floor to mess with a piece of tile that had come up, making him want to reach out and grab it and hold her hand in his like it was some sort of movie they were in and nice things like that could happen. He still did remember the way her hand felt in his from all the way back in the cemetery by the funeral home. Felt natural, like they were supposed to be that way.
"What's on your mind?"
"It's nothin'," he whispered back. Lying felt wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to confess the whole truth.
"Don't shut me out," Beth replied, though it sounded a lot more like a demand. Daryl looked over again. Her blonde hair looked darker when wet as a few pieces fell into her face before she removed them out of the way. Her blue eyes were trained on him for a long time it felt like, though he was positive it was only a few passing moments. Finally, she said, "You look lost."
In a way, he had been lost his whole life. But he had never been more lost than he was a few months ago when he thought Beth was gone for good. "I'm not the only one," he replied, biting his lip after the words came out. He didn't mean to say that to her but he had gotten into the habit when he was alone with Beth for weeks that he could say whatever came to mind that he just blurted it out without thinking first.
She didn't miss a beat. "We're lost together, then." Beth shrugged her shoulders, thinking about it more. "And maybe that's not the worst place to be."
He could have left then but he didn't know how to, not anymore, and he didn't have the willpower to get up and vanish into the night away from her. Again. Instead, he stayed there on the floor while Beth remained with her head resting on the tub edge gazing over at him. It wasn't until a while later that he heard the front door close loudly and Rick and Carol chatting downstairs in the living room. When he heard his name called, Daryl removed himself from the floor and grabbed a towel for Beth, walking over and placing it on the corner of the tub before saying, "For the record," he started, "You ain't a dead girl to me. Not before, at the shack, and not now." A brief smile came over her face and for a moment everything was alright.
He left after that and headed downstairs, realizing he had never questioned her on why she was in the house he was staying in and in his bathtub to begin with when he knew she had her own in the house next door. But it didn't matter and he didn't need to know why she chose there.
When he got downstairs, it was brief. Rick and Carol seemed paranoid about the new people still and Daryl just brushed it off. He was tired of it honestly. Sure, he nodded along with what they said in the beginning and voiced his opinion were it needed to be, but he felt good about Alexandria, in the sense that these people didn't have the guts to hurt anyone alive. They weren't playing them like Rick seemed to think. So Daryl gave the lame excuse of being tired and Carol immediately followed up by questioning if he was actually sleeping in his room that night, almost in a joking way, but also a hopeful one. And when he realized Beth was still upstairs, unless she had crawled out a window and down two stories, he replied with yes, he would sleep there, a sign that the both of them should give it a rest and stop scheming about the possible takeover of Alexandria. Because, yes, he noticed their secret little get-togethers where they talked in a whisper and then hurried off in separate directions like they had a plan going. Looked fucking suspicious and Daryl knew something was up. Hopefully him settling in would show them they could relax and not plot to take over the town.
They weren't those people. They couldn't be.
Daryl had already made the decision for himself that he refused to be part of it if it went down that direction. He wouldn't risk turning into some kind of monster. They had already run into too many of those on the road, dead and alive.
When they both leave to go check on the house next door, Daryl went back upstairs only to find Beth in the bed that was supposed to be his. She was all curled up under the sheets and her eyes were shut tight and Daryl was once again conflicted about what to do next.
