AN: Hi guys! Thanks for sticking with me. I'm glad you're still liking it. I think we're moving in the right direction with this one. Let me know if you agree!

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Take my hand

I'm standin' right here

Ya gotta hold on

- Tom Waits, Hold On

He was scared. That thought continued to blow my mind for days. It never occurred to me that Daryl Dixon would be afraid of anything, least of all me. The thought might have boosted my self-esteem—that I could affect a man like him in such a big way—but it just made me sad.

I didn't want to scare him. I wanted to make him feel good and important and loved—to settle his mind and heart.

I watched him over the following days, as he interacted with our family and went on about his business as our guardian and protector. I couldn't get Carol's words, that Daryl didn't have a lot of relationship experience, out of my mind, though. I couldn't reconcile the man that I was starting to fall for with the picture she had painted.

I decided it was best to keep my distance from him for a while—for both of us to let these confusing feelings and revelations sink in. I didn't feel much like talking anyway, so even though I'd told him I didn't want to play games, the idea of leaving the ball in his court seemed like a good one. I knew he wouldn't make a move, and I needed time to think.

"Bethie?" Daddy was next to me at the dinner table, nudging me with a bowl of corn. When I looked up his eyebrows were high on his forehead with concern. "Take it'n pass." He said, handing me the bowl.

"Sorry," I said under my breath, taking some of the corn onto my own plate then passing the bowl to Maggie on my right.

I tried to bring my thoughts back to the moment. I was relaxing into the past few days, thinking about something other than basic survival, but Daddy's expression reminded me that I shouldn't be daydreaming; we had too much going on for silly dreams.

"Thanks, sis," Maggie said, her voice close to my ear and her shoulder bumping mine.

I looked up into her face, and she was staring right through me, a small smile in her eyes and on her lips. After a beat of holding my gaze, her eyes drifted to Daryl, where he sat perched on the stairs leading to the exit, digging into his own bowl with his fingers. He sucked his first two fingers and his thumb between his lips every few minutes for some aggravating reason. I wished he'd use a damn fork.

Merle stood behind him, picking his teeth and looking out the small square window on the door. His brother still unnerved me. I wasn't afraid of him as much as annoyed. I knew he couldn't hurt me—Daryl and Rick and Glenn would never let him—but he just wouldn't shut up and he stared at me way too much for my liking.

My eyes following Maggie's, to where the Dixon brothers lingered, dragged me right back into my fantasy world once again. The longing I'd felt slowly building was like a boulder in my chest. I dropped my gaze to my plate, blinking back the impending tears and pushing my food around to busy myself. After I'd decided that I couldn't fake eat another bite, I got up to start clearing away the dishes.

"Thank ya, Beth," Rick spoke quietly, smiling up at me from his seat, as I took his plate and fork. I smiled back at him, thinking about all he'd been through and lost and how happy he seemed with his baby girl, and his pride in his son. I was envious of his openly blossoming relationship with Sasha, though. They were allowing themselves to feel and explore, while I was stuck crushing on a man who didn't know how to take a simple compliment, let alone accept any kind of affection.

When I got back around to Daddy, he was watching me closely. Then he knocked me off kilter with his words. "My girls are women now," he said, seemingly out of the blue and sounding like he'd surprised himself, as well.

"Daddy," I said, awkwardly shifting the plates as Carol joined me in clearing the table. I could swear that all eyes were on me at that point, and I was especially aware of Daryl's, hot and intense, from across the room. It was like I could feel him pushing and pulling me with his gaze. I flicked my own eyes up to meet his and he quickly looked away, down into his bowl.

"I'm sorry," Daddy said, shaking his head, looking like he was as embarrassed as I felt. "I don't mean t'make ya blush, but it occurred to me that in the middle of this Hell, you both are beautiful, thrivin' women, and I'm so proud."

"Well, ya should be," Rick chimed in, smiling at Daddy and me. "We've all worked hard and we wouldn't have what we have without each other." Then Rick's eyes locked on mine. "I'm forever grateful t'ya, Beth, for takin' such care of Judith like ya do."

I smiled again. "It's an honor," I said to Rick. "And she's easy." I shrugged and laughed, a soft mix of chuckles filtering through the room from everyone present as Judith cooed and gurgled from Rick's arms.

The moment passed, but I couldn't deny that something had changed from it. Their subtle words and sentiments felt significant—like my daddy and the leader of our group were validating my rite of passage to womanhood. I also couldn't deny that Daryl's gaze vibrated all around me for the rest of the evening like it never had before.


"Ladies, this is a bounty," Michonne said with a broad smile. She had come out to help Carol and me, and get a feel for what went on in the garden. I was pretty proud that she was pleased, and it seemed that Carol was as well.

"Thank you!" Carol said. "It's good to have this space. My biggest concern is keepin' it irrigated." Michonne nodded.

Then, after a few minutes of peaceful silence, Michonne bristled, like some kind of internal alarm went off. Her eyes were wide and her body was rigid as she slowly turned away from Carol and I to look out over the expanse of land surrounding the prison gates.

That was when my concerns for whether I wasn't giving basic survival enough thought were brought back to the forefront in vivid Technicolor and surround sound. A herd of walkers were approaching and gathering just outside the fence not 20 yards from where we were pulling the day's vegetables. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Merle and Andrea up on watch, either, but that didn't mean I wasn't alarmed.

Carol grabbed my hand and our vegetables dropped to the ground. Before we could act further, Rick, Daryl, Merle, and Andrea were surrounding us. Then Michonne put a piece of rebar in my hands and started to talk. "Hold on tight," she said. "But move with it. Keep your distance, and aim for the eye socket." She looked me in the eye as she held my hand in hers. "You can do this, Beth."

I nodded, breathing heavy and gripping the bar in my fists. Then Michonne let me go and ran toward the fence, pulling her katana from its sheath.

I nervously searched for Daryl's gaze, but didn't have to look for long. The second I caught his eye, he was steadily moving toward me, crossbow over one shoulder and his own rebar in hand. I couldn't place the look on his face, but it made my belly flip in that way it always does when he's close.

He tucked his bar under his arm then reached out and adjusted my hands on my own. "Take y'time," he said quietly, holding my eyes with his. "Focus." His fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed, holding my hands in place. "Like Michonne said, aim f'the eyes." His brow raised and he nodded, asking for my understanding. I swallowed thickly and nodded back, feeling a warm tingle spread from our joined fingers up my arms and through my whole body.

He released his grip and we turned to join the others at the fence. Glenn and Maggie had come from seemingly nowhere, which was good, because there were so many walkers—teeth snapping and fingers curling and yanking at the chain links. There weren't as many as had taken down the farm, but I hadn't seen so many in one place since that terrible night. I closed my eyes and shivered as Daryl and I drew near the rest of the group.

"'M right behind ya, girl." His voice was quiet in my ear—just for me. "Breathe," he said, and I did. "Aim high." My breath shook and I nodded. I'd fired a gun; I'd run from walkers; but I'd never been this close and heated, striking with hand-to-hand weapons.

He guided me next to Carol and I could feel his heat behind me, and his hands on my hips. I raised my arms overhead and took aim.

Daryl kicked my feet wide, one slightly in back of the other. "Keep y'hips in line, back foot planted, pivot on your front," he continued, tapping my forward heel with the toe of his boot, his thumbs burning into my tailbone. Then he twisted my body and kneed me in the back of my forward leg. "Keep it tight—twist'n thrust."

I closed my eyes and followed the motions and his voice, not sure of all the instructions, but getting the general gist and the motions he'd put me through. When I opened my eyes, my target was mere feet in front of me, eyes like clouded quartz rock, mangled skin and lips, and a stench that none of us would ever get used to, but Daryl's voice and hands and body were so close.

I felt strong and stable in the face of the danger, even when his hands left my hips and his heat faded from my back. I could still hear his voice. "G'on, Beth. Jus' like I said." And I took my first close-range shot.

I felt and heard the soft tissue and cartilage give and break under my force. The walker immediately stilled and slumped against the fence, pulling the front of the bar downward and wrenching my arms up.

"Hold ont'it, girl," Daryl practically growled. "Hold on tight—pull up'n back!"

I gripped the bar tighter with my sweating palms. It slipped slightly as I pulled, hard as I could, hearing the wet sucking of flesh releasing the steel bar. As the tip of the bar cleared the fence, I stumbled back into Daryl and he caught me.

I almost laughed out loud, I was so proud of myself, and I turned to face him. Before I could think of what I was doing or if I should be doing it, my arms were wrapped around his neck and my lips were on his cheek. "Oh, my god!" I squealed.

Daryl looked stunned for a second, but his warm hands slowly gripped my hips, one squeezing rhythmically.

Andrea was suddenly at our side, then, nodding toward the herd. "Nice work, but can we celebrate later?" She grinned and shook her head, then moved to take out her own walker.

I looked back up at Daryl, who was slowly pushing me away only to readjust the bar in my hand and give me one more nod of reassurance. "Take that bar'n do that thing ya just did a few more times," he said with a smirk. "Did real good, girl."

I smiled, then turned and went through those same motions as many times as was needed. At the end of it all, we'd taken out 50 walkers. I was riding high on adrenaline and could feel my muscles would be sore later, but the sense of accomplishment I felt and hearing those words from Daryl—that I 'did real good'—had me walking on a swirling cloud all the way back to the prison door.

"Thanks," I said, reaching for Daryl's hand and catching his pinky and ring finger. I felt light as air.

He seemed unsure of what to do next, shifting away from me, but not pulling his fingers from my grasp. He was doing that thing again that he'd done a few days before when we were alone in the yard—wild eyes, pleading for the others not to leave us alone.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Daryl, I jus' wanted t'thank ya. With words. Ya don't hafta look like I'm about t'take a bite outta ya." I released his hand with a chuckle, the rush of recent events overshadowing the repercussions from my confusion and disappointment after Daryl and my last talk. I was living in the moment, and right then, I just wanted to celebrate my victory.

"Shit, son—girl's practically beggin' for it," Merle crowed, coming from behind us, smirking and leering at me. "If ya ain't man enough, then getchyer pansy ass outta the way an' let some'n else take a crack at 'er."

Daryl stopped dead in his tracks next to me, and I saw Andrea pause, reaching for Rick, looking like she was about to say something herself. Daryl beat her to it.

"What I say?" Daryl's voice was deadly soft, as he moved into Merle's path, cutting him off. Merle looked like he was about to burst into a fit of laughter. Even in the rush and confusion of adrenaline and emotion, I knew he was just trying to mess with Daryl and me—like he was always trying to mess with someone. I didn't want his arrogance and blundering to get in the way of my celebration, though. I tried to stop Daryl from moving in further, but before I could, Carol stepped in and held me back.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, lil brother?" Merle taunted, licking his lips and darting his eyes to the side to leer at me once more. They stood toe-to-toe, Daryl's jaw set, melting steel through his brother's skull. The tension between them was daunting to say the least, and it pushed the rush I was feeling even higher.

Rick and Andrea wandered closer, listening intently. I looked around to see that Glenn and Maggie had already made it inside, which was probably a good thing; Glenn hated Merle so much.

"Don't touch 'er," Daryl continued quietly. "Don't talk to 'er, don't look at 'er." He paused, breathing deep, nostrils flaring. "Don't even fuckin' think about 'er."

Merle laughed again. "And whatcha gonna do 'bout it there, Darylina," he said, suddenly steely-eyed, himself. The mood shifted again to something less teasing on Merle's behalf to something much more threatening. "Gonna pull that bow on me again? Huh?"

Daryl shook his head once, but didn't break eye contact with Merle. "None a these women want ya, and that tears ya up," Daryl said with a bob of his head and a slightly cruel smirk of his own—one I didn't like seeing on his kind face. "If they did, they'd stand up for themselves'n come t'ya; tha's the kinda women we got here. So jus' back the fuck off."

Two more beats passed before Merle snorted and broke their staring game. Then Daryl shifted his rebar and crossbow and turned his gaze on me. He nodded toward the door and Carol and I moved.

I was chilled, and I guessed it was the crash of adrenaline. That and the sound of Merle's voice as he continued to taunt his brother from afar.

"Kinda like that lil piece is doin' t'ya," Merle said, as he wandered in the opposite direction of the prison. "Pussy..."

His ridiculing voice rang through my mind. Daryl had probably heard those kinds of words and that tone of voice his whole life—since he was just a boy. His scars, the way he gripped the strap of his crossbow like a security blanket even when there wasn't a walker in sight, and Carol's assertion that he'd probably never had a relationship made sense to me all of a sudden.

As we all went our separate ways inside the prison, thankfully minus Merle, I watched Daryl walk away from me—again—and I thought about what Daddy had said about his own terrible childhood and the abuse he'd endured. If Daddy could come away from that life and be the loving man and father that I knew and loved, I had hope that Daryl could, too. I hoped that he would see the way soon.


The night after I'd taken out my first, second, and third walkers, up close and personal, I sat on the steps in block D, surrounded by my family with Judith in my arms. There was new concern and talk about the way the walkers were grouping. I didn't want to think about what it meant that they seemed to be adapting or, God forbid, learning. I didn't want to think that there was any way they could still hold significant human aspects or be rehabilitated—not after the barn—so I didn't.

I focused on what I'd told myself to focus on, and what was becoming more and more important every day—surviving and helping others to survive and thrive. I wanted Judith to grow up knowing she was loved, and I wanted everyone else in our group to know how important they were.

My thoughts and feelings for Daryl had taken up residence in my heart in such a way that I knew they wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon, if ever. I wanted him, more than anyone, to know what he meant to us, and even though our talk had discouraged me from trying, I was determined to get back on that horse.

The way he'd touched me and looked at me, and the way he'd talked to Merle the day before reaffirmed for me that my feelings, no matter how frightening and confused, were mutual between us and that Daryl did not think of me as a child. He'd said as much himself.

"Bethie, sing for us, would ya?" Daddy asked from where he sat on a chair against the wall near Maggie, Glenn, and Michonne. Andrea and Merle were on watch on one side of the yard and Sasha and Tyreese had the other side. It wasn't enough anymore to have just two on watch.

"'Kay," I said, shifting Judith in my arms and smiling back at Daddy, as I heard Carol and Daryl settle on the floor just behind me. "Whaddaya'll wanna hear?"

Maggie and Daddy each suggested something different, and Michonne asked what my favorite song was. After some back and forth, I finally chose a lullaby for Judith as she gurgled and fussed in my lap. Time passed, and the lullaby transitioned into a duet with Maggie. Before I knew it, Judith was sound asleep. As Maggie took over the next song and I cradled Judith's tiny, warm, sleeping body to my chest, I heard Carol and Daryl talking in hushed tones behind me.

I couldn't imagine that they would have thought I couldn't hear them, but what they were saying was not something that I would think Daryl would want me to hear. Or, maybe he did.

"She's not a little girl anymore," Carol said. "You said so yourself. And she can make her own choices."

"She ain't, but…" he paused, his voice barely audible, sad and raw. "Wha'do I got t'offer 'er?"

My heart beat faster and my eyes slowly filled with tears. I buried my face in Judith's neck to hide my face from my family. I didn't want to eavesdrop on Carol and Daryl, but I couldn't move for fear that everyone would see my reaction.

"Comfort? Devotion? Passion?" Carol answered, then sighed. "Life is too short, Daryl, we all know this. Plain'n simple—we need each other and should take our happiness where we can get it. I've seen the way ya look at her-"

"She deserves better," he cut her off, but I'd heard what Carol said. The way he looked at me…

"She deserves what she wants, and she wants you," Carol said. "She's worked hard for it, and so have you. It's okay—better than—to want her back. You have every right to want somethin' good for yourself."

They were silent for several beats and I sat letting my tears leak into Judith's blanket. All the confusion and pushing and pulling was coming to a head in that moment, and Daryl wasn't denying that he wanted me. I was overwhelmed.

Maggie's song was done, so I dried my eyes the best I could, thankful that it was dimly lit in the prison. When I looked up, Carol and Daryl were near the rest of the group, just a few feet from me. I stared at him until he dragged his gaze up from his boots to meet mine.

I felt my lip tremble. I didn't want to cry again, but I would have if Daryl hadn't looked at me the way he did then. He was slumped against one of the cell doors, his elbows braced on the bars behind him, looking tired and defeated, and something else—maybe resolved. Then he tilted his chin up with a sigh and looked down at me through slanted eyes. He shook his head, and gnawed at the inside of his lip, never taking his eyes from mine.

"It's my turn to relieve Sasha." Carol turned to Daryl, then stopped, looking back and forth between the two of us, realization dawning on her face. She grinned.

"Thanks for the songs, Bethie," Carol said, sounding and looking more cheerful than necessary. It became clear at that moment that Carol had in fact intended for me to hear their conversation, and by the looks of Daryl he hadn't resisted her plan. Part of me wondered just how orchestrated it all was, and the other part of me didn't care because Daryl had all but admitted that he wanted me, too.

"Beth, how 'bout 'Sister Rosetta'?" Maggie said, breaking my trance and pulling my attention back to the group. "I can take Little Ass Kicker." Maggie got up and crossed the room, reaching out for the bundle in my arms.

I blinked a few times and handed her over. "Sure," I answered, standing and preparing for another song, feeling Daryl's hot, blue gaze touch me and warm me from head to toe.

Special thanks to OneLilHopeful for helping me stay focused on Bethyl this weekend in the midst of event Hell. Thanks, as always, to Leiah and Brodie for reading and giving feedback and supporting me the way you girls do. And thanks to MsKathy for the red pen and hand holding. xox - MJ