"Hey there, baby brother!" Merle called from the other end, sounding more chipper than he usually did. "They're letting me out in a month! Can ya believe they give me parole?"

"If anybody's surprised, it's me." Daryl grumbles back. The thought of Merle being out of prison didn't exactly give him the warm fuzzies. The last thing he wanted to worry about was having to put up with Merle's bullshit on top of everything else.

"Told 'em I was gonna be stayin' with you. Gave 'em your address. That okay still?" Merle's voice was genuine now, something behind it a little scared. Daryl could tell he thought he was getting ready to turn him down. Tell him to find a halfway and fuck off.

"Already told ya last time ya called, didn't I? My place ain't big but I'm rarely there so the couch is all yours."

"Can't tell ya how much this means to me, Daryl. I promise things are gonna be different this time around. You'll see."

"I ain't holding my breath for nothing, Merle. Ya sound like every asshole who's ever been incarcerated. Next ya gonna tell me ya found Jesus too? That your cellmate absolve your sins?"

"Just trying to show some appreciation fer once."

"I hope you know between me and your PO, there ain't gonna be fuck ups, Merle. I'm not getting dragged into your shit again. It's been long enough. Got my own life now."

"Listen, I gotta go but I'll be callin' ya in a few days. You'll drive down and come get me?"

"Sure, said I'd take care of it, didn't I?" Daryl goes to hang up the phone but before he can, Merle stops him.

"Wait-"

"What?"

"Thank you, Daryl. I don't know how I'm gonna make it up to ya but I promise I will."

"See it when I believe it."

Beth stood in front of the kitchen sink peeling vegetables for dinner. Her mother played bridge with her friends most afternoons and Hershel wouldn't be home for another hour an half or so, giving her plenty of time to wait around for Daryl. The idea of actually being able to communicate this way was absurd. For so long he had just been a flash in her memory and now she even had a name to put to his face.

That was the most sobering fact of all. Knowing that he was a real, living breathing person and not just a figment of her imagination. Daryl was real. She knew that now. It wasn't about being able to see and hear him, but knowing that he was there, moving and thinking in the back of her mind at all times that sent a shiver through her entire body. This had become real.

He had to be able to see her as clearly as she saw him. She wondered how long she had been in his mind, the visions and why he had thought she was an acid flashback. That made her chuckle a little. Not having known him for very long, outside of her dreams, Beth knew it wasn't her place to judge him. She knew everyone had their demons, even her father with alcohol. Daryl's were just different.

Cutting up the potatoes and carrots, she adds them to the pot of soup, stirring thoroughly. Thinking back to those pangs of hunger she had experienced as a child, she felt immense sadness for him. Deep inside, she could feel his kindness, his soul behind the years of abuse, the scars covering his body. Parts of him may have been broken for some time, but she felt a strength inside him that outweighed any demon.

What had he seen through Beth's life? Surely her life hadn't been anywhere near the emotional turmoil he'd be forced to endure for so many years. A sheltered farm girl hiding behind her parents? Too weak and naive to open her mouth? Unable to cut the apron strings and untangle herself from their grasp. Suddenly her mind started to swim. Grasping the countertop for support, she steps back.

Daryl's face began to flood her mind, his eyes dark and pensive with thought. Although she couldn't hear him yet, his anxiety coursed through her veins.

"Beth?"

"I'm here."

Sitting down at the kitchen table, she lays her head down, overwhelmed with the emotions flooding her brain, Daryl's features overtaking her senses.

"Ya alright?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Mmm, as good as I can be knowing my piece of shit brother is about to out on parole and comin' to live with me."

She was right. His demons were messier and darker than she had originally anticipated.

"What did he do?"

"Messed around with drugs for a long time. Fucked over a lot of people. Done a lot of stupid shit in his life."

Recalling the older boy from her dreams, she remembers him trying to defend Daryl, pushing back their father, teeth snarling with anger. He would beg over and over again to take it for his brother, not put him through that again.

"Merle?"

He's quiet for a second, completely taken back. She can feel the sharp breath he's taken in, sucking into her lungs like splintered glass.

"...how do you know that?"

Beth had no idea how she knew. When she pictured his face, Merle holding Daryl back, taking the brunt of the beatings, sacrificing himself for his brother, it was like she'd known all along.

"I-I don't know. I just did."

"He's uh," Daryl struggles to find the words to go on, looking as overwhelmed as Beth felt. "getting out in a month."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"He ain't dragging me into his shit again, if that's what you're getting at. Was a long time ago, girl. Don't touch that shit no more."

"I didn't think you were. I wasn't gonna judge you, Daryl."

Not sure if it's his guilt shining through on her or the other way around, she feels a tenderness in her heart she can only describe as remorse.

"It's okay."

"I know you're a good man."

"Girl, you don't know nothing about me."

Getting up from the table with shaking legs, she walks back over to the pot of soup, lifting the lid to stir the contents.

"I may not know how any of this works or why the hell this is happenin' but in my heart, inside," she puts her palm over her heart, knowing he can feel it on his chest too, "you're a good man, Daryl. I've known that."

"Thanks," he grumbles, not ever having received a compliment like that in all his life. Beth had said it so matter of factly, like she had no qualms about his past or who he was.

They both stood in silence for a moment, contemplating one another. Beth wondered how it was they were so in tune. It seemed almost as if their breaths were becoming synchronized, eyes cast blue on blue.

"How do you think this all works?" Beth asked, breaking the spell, Daryl's hand coming up to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail.

"I dunno."

"You feel what I feel, right?"

"Guess so."

"I know I'm still feeling that brawl. My shoulder is killing me."

"Sorry." Daryl scowls, looking down at his lap. "Wouldn't have let it happened if I'd known you'd be gettin' yer ass kicked too."

"Freaked my sister and her husband out pretty good."

"Yeah?"

"We were in the grocery store and I saw you. Saw that man come up to you and you started arguing. Next thing I knew, I'd flown back into the shelf behind me."

"Oh shit. I think I saw some of that. It's a little hazy, ain't gonna lie."

"What happened? If you don't mind my asking?"

Knowing he'd have to explain the story behind Martinez bashing his face in, Daryl hesitated. Taking a deep breath before he begins.

"Merle was pushin' him for a long time. Messin' with his head. Did that to a lot of people. Get 'em hooked, then they're willing to pay anything to feed their habit. Cept when Merle got locked up, Cesar's wife left 'em," looking up at her eyes, she sees him concentrating, taking in the story and absorbing his words like moisture in her pores, "blamed it on Merle and because he wasn't around, figure he'd let me take the blame."

"You're not like your brother though, are you?"

Daryl thinks about it for a second. For all this time, since Merle had been gone, he'd tried so hard not to be like him, not to be a Dixon but at that point in time, he wasn't sure if he could fully answer that question. He had done things he wasn't proud of because it was the only thing he knew to do. The only way he knew how to survive and get by. Being alone made it that much easier to get his shit together. Without his brother ring leading one scam to another, it was like he'd had his life back for the first time. Now that Merle was going to be out on parole, the thought of having that taken away from him was scarier than he'd like to admit.

He doesn't answer her and she can feel him hesitating.

"I can tell, I can feel it."

She touches her shoulder and neck, running her hand over the sore skin there.

"Is it crazy that I can feel that too?"

"I don't think so."

"Guess we'll have to figure it out as we go along, huh?"

"Don't think there's much else we can do. I'm just glad I can finally talk to you. It was getting pretty confusing there for a while, huh?" Her grin brightens up his face, the anxiety starting to melt away knowing that he wouldn't be alone, now that he and Beth could actually communicate.

"Yeah, thought I was losin' it."

"You seem pretty sane to me."

"Just wait, girl. Before ya know it, I'll have ya pullin' that pretty blonde hair right outta yer head."

When she laughs, he can feel it, bellowing in his chest, erupting like a volcano. Hot magma dripping down his chest, filling him up with fire.

"I'm glad it's you. I know it's weird but it feels comfortable." She shrugs, looking sure of herself for the first time since he saw her back on the horse that first time. Confident and ready for anything.

"Guess I know what ya mean." Daryl gives her a sheepish grin, unsure how else to respond to her. She may have known him in her mind for years but having only spoken to him a few times, how can she be so kind, so accepting?

"Just feel it, Daryl. I don't think it's going away any time soon." Beth holds her hands to her chest again, closing her eyes. Their hearts beat as one, strong and steady. It's so loud it's echoing through their heads, synchronized by their breathing.

When he goes to lift his hand to his chest, he sees her small, delicate palm appear under his, over his heart. Closing his eyes, he feels it too every drop of her filling him up.