Author's Note: I don't own anything you recognize
Beth's fingers gently brushed the strings on her guitar, adding a quiet melody to the hum of cicadas and the other sounds of nature surrounding her. It was only seven in the morning, but the humidity in the air already hung on her skin like a wet washrag. She sat on the porch steps, strumming to herself in her pajamas and watching her father, Otis, and Jimmy's distant figures working in the fields. Peaceful mornings like this helped her remember how good it was to be home. She needed to remember that.
"You playin' a song, or are ya' just doin' improv?" said a teasing voice from behind her.
She turned and saw Shawn standing above her, his ball cap sending a shadow over his cheesy grin.
"I guess you could call it improv," she said, smiling up at her brother. "You know I can't really play."
He plopped down beside her on the step, looking out into the yard. "Sometimes I just don't understand you," he said after a moment.
Beth looked up at him with a quizzical and slack-jawed face. "Why?" She asked, laughing.
"'Cause you wake up so early in the mornin' when it's summer and you don't even have to help with the farm," he said, a sly glint in his eye. "Instead, ya' just come out here and play your guitar."
She scoffed. "I don't always get up early," she said in a playfully defensive tone. The truth was she had gotten so used to waking up early during the apocalypse that she still couldn't sleep in very late if she tried.
"Yeah, you do," said Shawn simply, his eyes still sweeping over the land in front of them.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm so complex," she said. She went back to her guitar as Shawn threw her a grin, and headed out for the fields where the others were working.
They teased each other, and he was annoying, but Beth wanted to tell him how badly she had missed him when he had been gone. He didn't understand how much his sarcastic comments meant to her these days.
She stayed on the step trying out different chords and combinations until Mama peeked through the front door to bring her in for breakfast.
"Alright, I'm comin'," she said, taking her guitar inside with her and leaning it against the living room wall on her way to the dining room.
In the middle of breakfast, the front door opened and Hershel came inside, his face shining in the light with sweat. "We need more ointment for the cows," he said. "I need to run into town to get some. Anyone want to come with me?"
"I'll go," Beth volunteered. "I'll be just a second gettin' ready." She shoved down her last couple bites of breakfast in one swallow, and rushed upstairs. She kept her hair up in the ponytail she had slept in, and threw on a pair of jean capris and a t-shirt. She pulled on her black converse by the front door, and ran outside to meet her dad.
The car ride was relatively quiet, as most early morning car rides are. The radio was playing low, and the cicadas singing outside could be heard even inside the truck. Beth felt her eyelids growing heavier, and leaned her head against the rattling window. When the forest started to fade into a town, Hershel pulled onto a different road and turned off the radio as they reached the pharmacy. He pulled into a diagonal parking space right in front of the shop, and unbuckled his seatbelt.
"You comin', Bethy?" he asked.
She sat up straighter. "I'm feelin' kinda tired," she said. "I think I'll just stay in the car."
"Alright," said Hershel. "I won't be too long." He shut the truck door and walked into the pharmacy.
The headrest was hard against the back of Beth's head, but she was itching for rest. The morning was getting to her as she glanced out the car windows. Town sure wasn't very busy this morning. There were three empty parking spaces between Hershel's truck and a motorcycle, which was one of the only other vehicles in sight. Beth wondered if everybody else had decided to-
The motorcycle.
Her head jerked back to look out her window at the bike sitting three spaces away. It looked like a chopper, and had tall handlebars, just like another bike she knew. It looked oh-too-familiar for her heart to handle, but there was no way it could be Daryl's; he had no reason to be in this town.
She dismissed her thoughts and pulled her gaze away from the motorcycle, focusing instead on examining her chipping nail polish. The collective sounds of car engines were becoming louder now, and more people were milling about the sidewalks, but those three parking spots remained empty.
She was jolted out of her brief reverie by movement out of the corner of her eye. Familiar movement. Looking out her window, Beth saw a man sauntering around the street corner. Her brain completely shut down for a brief moment as the entire world went silent.
Daryl.
Her mental silence ended with a bang as her mind erupted with a torrent of thoughts and emotion, everything rushing at once. He looked just as he did when she'd last seen him, though maybe a bit cleaner. His dark and shaggy hair still hung over his little eyes, and his clothes were just what he'd always worn when she'd known him. He walked over to the motorcycle, and Beth smiled even wider knowing it actually was his. He turned his back to her, doing something with his bike that she couldn't see through his form. The angel wings on the back of his vest brought on another wave of emotion and nostalgia.
Beth frantically fumbled for the door handle, desperate to reach him and hear his voice again. Finally, the car door opened and she stepped out, shaking with shock and excitement. She started across those three empty parking spaces, but came to a halt halfway.
Daryl wouldn't remember her, just as her entire family hadn't remembered the other members of the group. Did she want her last image of him to be the way he looked at her when they were close, or the way he looked at her as a stranger?
She took a deep breath, knowing she would regret not taking advantage of this moment, not getting at least one more word with him, even as strangers. She started walking towards him again until she was right behind him. She could smell him now, and it was intoxicating. She never thought she would smell him again.
Awkwardly, she reached out and tapped his arm. "E-excuse me," she began.
He turned, and she looked directly into his face for the first time in an infinity. His eyes were piercing at first, then softened when he saw her properly. She heard his breath hitch as he stared at her, not saying a word. She knew he didn't remember her. This was going to be painful, but she was so used to pain.
Then, her old friend said a word she never expected him to say, which widened her eyes and sent the torrent in her head whirling again.
"Beth," he said in a near-whisper.
She took a step back, her world spinning all around her except for Daryl's ghostly white face, which kept still. He looked completely stunned, and his eyes were glinting with moisture as he kept his gaze fixed on her. He reached a shaky hand out behind him, falling into his motorcycle as he tried to support himself. His head was shaking back and forth, his lip quivering.
"Daryl, I..." Beth whispered, trying to pull herself together and stepping towards him again. "Do you...remember?"
His voice was gravelly with emotion as he spoke hesitatingly. "Yeah," he said, his mouth moving slowly, deliberately. "No one else does."
His words made her Beth want to bury herself in his embrace, not just because he was Daryl, but because she now knew she was no longer alone in this. He remembered. She opened her mouth to speak again, but quickly turned to check if her dad was coming. She saw him in the pharmacy window, his back turned to them as he stood at the counter to check-out.
"My dad's comin'," she said, her voice gaining strength as she turned back to Daryl. "He'd have a heart attack if he saw me talkin' to a stranger with a motorcycle."
"I've gotta find you again," said Daryl hoarsely, his eyes fraught with determination.
"Can you find the farm?" she asked.
He nodded.
Beth took one last look at him before rushing back to the truck. She hopped inside and shut the door just as Hershel came out of the pharmacy carrying a brown paper bag. He didn't seem to have seen her out of the car, and he didn't mention it on the way home. His daughter didn't say anything, really, for her head almost hurt with the overwhelming swells of emotion she was still experiencing. She sat in a disbelieving haze the entire drive.
She stayed home for the rest of the day, wanting to be sure she didn't miss Daryl's visit. She didn't know when he was coming, but she wasn't going to be able to leave the house until he showed up. She sat on her bed replaying their conversation over and over in her head. She had been separated from him too many times, and to be reunited again was...incredible.
How did he remember, though? Why did it seem to be just us two? Why had the rest of the world just erased their entire memories of the apocalypse, and replaced them with new ones? What was different about me or Daryl? These questions swam through Beth's mind as she pondered her situation.
She flung herself back onto her pillows, more joyful and confused than ever.
That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, she sat up in her room with one lamp on, giving the room a warm glow. Occasionally she would pull out her copy of Little House in the Big Woods and read a few chapters, or she would get up and pace the floor. Daryl said he would find her. She doubted he would come this late at night, but she still couldn't sleep.
Due to her restlessness, she found herself going back and forth between her bed and her floor, wandering aimlessly around the room. She peered out her window into the vast and endless night, and her eyes traced the edges of the silhouettes of the trees which stood out against the velvet sky. In this silent, dark valley, as the woods filled with the creatures of the night, her house seemed like a warm refuge, an island in a sea of darkness.
Nearly twenty minutes later, as she was reading about Laura and Mary Ingalls frying pig tails over a fire, she heard something hitting against her window. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, rushing to investigate. She pulled open the curtains right as a tiny rock hit the glass and fell back to the ground. She opened the window and leaned out to see Daryl Dixon standing beneath it with a handful of pebbles.
She smiled so wide that her cheeks ached. "What is this, a romance novel?" she asked, careful to keep her voice hushed in the night.
Daryl squinted up at her. "Jus' let me up there, Greene," he said, a twinkle in his eye.
"You're not comin' up the stairs," she said. "You'll wake the whole house up."
Daryl looked down, and nodded. "Any other way you can think of?"
She looked beside her window, getting an idea. "There's always the trellis," she said, gesturing with her head to the arbor which was a little to the left of her window.
The older man sighed. "Alright, but if I fall, I ain't payin' for no hospital bill," he said, throwing down the pebbles. He grabbed onto the trellis with one hand, and a little higher with the other. He tested its stability before pulling himself up and planting his feet within the latticework, careful to step on part of the actual trellis and not a vine. Gradually, he worked his way up, testing each spot before relying on it.
"Don't fall," Beth whispered as he made it to the halfway point.
"You always give the best advice," muttered Daryl with a smirk. He moved his left foot upward as he said this, but didn't test his spot this time. He had stepped onto a vine, and his foot slipped away from the lattice, dangling in midair.
Beth reached her hand out the window even though he was too far to reach, watching desperately as he tried to regain his footing. They were both able to release the breath they'd been holding when he had both feet firmly planted on the trellis.
"I thought I told you not to fall," she said teasingly.
Daryl glanced up at her, smirking. "You don't gotta worry 'bout me," he said.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he finally reached her window. He tensed up at first when she took his forearms to hoist him up into her room, but he relaxed as she pulled him up over the sill. He lifted his legs through the window, and stood for a moment, observing his surroundings.
Beth sat down on her bed, and he followed. He stood by the bed as if contemplating whether or not it would be okay for him to sit down beside her. Finally, he sat down, sitting stiffly.
"It's good to see you again, Daryl," Beth said quietly.
He looked at her. "It's good to see you, too, Beth," he said. They sat in silence for a minute, and she tried to look extremely interested in the floorboards, when he very suddenly wrapped her in a hug. "It's good to see you," he said again.
She returned the hug, welcoming his scent and surrounding arms. Rather awkwardly, they let go of each other, but he turned his sitting position to face her better.
"Why do we remember?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
Beth shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I've been thinkin' on that a lot."
"I ain't met no one else who remembers, other than you," said Daryl.
"Me neither," she said. "My family...they have no clue. Maggie can't even remember Glenn."
"Is your dad…?" began Daryl hesitatingly.
The girl smiled at him. "He's alive," she said. "So is my mama, and Patricia, and everybody."
Daryl smiled down at his knee resting on the bed. "Hershel's sleepin' right here in this house," he said quietly.
"What about Merle?" Beth asked.
He looked up at her . "Naw," he muttered. "Apparently he died in a car crash six months ago."
"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.
He shook his head. "Don't be," he said. "The asshole was s'posed to die no matter what, I guess."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," muttered Daryl. "He'd already been dead to me for a long time, anyway."
Beth knew he was probably hurting, but she didn't push him any farther. "I saw you got the bike back," she said chipperly.
Daryl smiled. "It felt pretty good to ride that thing again," he said.
They both fell quiet again before he said, "I'm glad your family's alright."
"Me too," she said. "Daryl, what were you doin' in town this mornin', anyway? I didn't think you lived around here."
"I live quite a ways north a' here, but I was tryin' to find work," he explained. "I didn't realize this town was near the farm."
"I'm glad you came," she said, smiling. She reached over to her nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out the newspaper she had bought with Patricia. "I saw this at the grocery store," she said, handing it to Daryl.
He chuckled. "Sheriff Rick, at it again," he said.
"If you look, it mentions Judith," Beth said happily. "I guess she would'a been born no matter what."
Daryl smiled. His face turned serious again as he said, "D'you think Rick remembers?"
She shrugged. "The article says he had the help of Deputy Shane Walsh," she said. "If they remembered, do you really think they'd make up?"
Daryl chewed on his bottom lip while looking at Rick's smiling face. "I dunno. There's always a chance."
Beth pondered this for a moment before saying, "We should find him."
"What do you mean?" asked Daryl.
"This article says he lives in King County, Georgia," she said. "We could find him and see if he remembers."
"King County's a long way from here," said Daryl.
"I know, but, we could find the police station and track him down, and see if he remembers," she said. "We've gotta do somethin'."
Daryl slowly began to nod. "We could try and find the others, too," he said. "After we looked for Rick."
"How would I be able to leave home for so long, while we track everybody down?" Beth asked.
Daryl's shoulders lowered. "I dunno," he said, leaving the two in yet another silence.
"I could tell my parents that I'm leavin' for some sorta...camp, or somethin'," she suggested. "That'd give me at least the rest of the summer to go with you."
"Like one of those cheesy summer camps?" asked Daryl skeptically.
"Well, yeah, I guess," she said. "Everyone knows I've been bored this summer, so maybe they wouldn't be surprised I wanted to get away for a while."
"But why would you be goin' to a camp?" he asked.
The girl chewed her bottom lip in thought. "Maybe…maybe it could be like a music camp," she said. "For college credit, or somethin'."
Daryl raised his eyebrows. "Do those exist?" he asked.
"Sure, I mean, I think so," she said. "Haven't you seen Camp Rock?"
The older man stared at her blankly. "The heck is that," he said.
"Oh, nevermind," she laughed. "Anyway, do you think it could work?"
Daryl nodded, then paused and shook his head. "I dunno...it's kinda elaborate, don'cha you think?"
"Yeah…" Beth said. "I could tell my parents I'm goin' away with my best friend Jenna for the summer."
"D'you think they'd let you?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I think so," she said. "They know Jenna and I haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together lately."
"What if they ask this Jenna about it all?" asked Daryl.
"I suppose I could ask her to cover for me…" Beth suggested.
"How would you explain it to her?" wondered the older man.
"Honestly, she might not need an explanation," she said. "She might cover for me without needing a reason why. She's just like that."
"Well, if it's the best we can do, we'll do it," said Daryl.
"I just…I feel bad tellin' such a big lie to my family," the blonde said.
"We gotta do what we gotta do," said Daryl. "Sittin' on our butts ain't gonna figure none of this out."
He was right. "How about you pick me up at 8 pm next Tuesday at the library?" Beth suggested. "By then I should have my story all put together. I'll say the library is where Jenna's gonna pick me up or somethin'."
Daryl nodded. "What if your plan doesn't work out?" he asked. "How am I supposed to know if you'll be ready on Tuesday or not?"
"If I'm not at the library at 8 o'clock, you'll know my plan didn't work out," she said. "That night you can come back here and we'll devise another evil scheme."
Daryl smirked. "You're hardly evil," he said.
Beth pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "You're not so big and bad as you seem, either, mister," she teased.
Daryl scoffed, a ghost of his smirk remaining on his lips for the next several moments. "I guess I better get goin'," he said. "It's gettin' late."
The girl nodded. "Where are you stayin'?"
"There's a motel a couple miles up the road, I'm jus' gonna crash there for the night,' explained Daryl as he stood up. "Well, Beth, I'll see you Tuesday," he said when he went back to the window.
"8 o'clock!" She reminded him, earning a dismissive wave of his hand and yet another smirk.
"'Night, Greene," said Daryl quietly as he started back down the trellis.
"Goodnight, Dixon," she whispered back.
Beth watched him disappear into the woods, then closed her window and curtains after the sound of a motorcycle echoed into the night. Her eyelids were heavy, and her soft pillow was looking more and more inviting. She turned off her lamp, then curled up in her bed, its quilt still warm from where she and Daryl had sat.
