My eyes open to a blur of light. A cursory glance and reach reveals I'm alone in the bed. I hear the bathroom door shut, and I realize what has woken me.

I stare at the ceiling and take in the sunshine. The TV is still on, and I absentmindedly start flipping through the channels. Friday mornings are filled with nothing but soap operas and talk shows so I settle on the least offensive talk show, and stretch out to every corner of the mattress.

When I hear the shower start, I gingerly roll out of bed and get my bearings. I run my fingers through my hair and curse myself for going to bed with wet hair. It's a curly mess. I step into my boots, grab the room key, and slip out of the motel room.

There's a convenience store around the corner and I walk over, enjoying the fresh air. I grab myself a peppermint tea, and for Daryl, a black coffee. After a second of hesitation, I pick up a couple muffins, some gum, and a collapsible brush.

When I get back to the room, Daryl is still in the shower. I place our drinks, and the muffins, on the little side table by the chair. I pop some gum into my mouth, and begin brushing the tangled mess on my head from the edge of the bed. After a few minutes I start to feel more human.

Some time later, I begin to think maybe he's left through the bathroom window. I sip my tea, and wait a beat before walking over and knocking on the paint-peeled door.

No answer.

I feel a rise of concern in my chest but I try to stay rational. He wouldn't just leave, would he?

"Daryl?" I ask, and nothing but silence follows. I shift my weight from one foot to the other; a million worst-case scenarios run through my mind.

I place my tea on the table and walk over to the door, placing my ear against the wood. I hear nothing but the unrelenting stream of the shower. I place a hesitant hand on the doorknob, and test the resistance - there is none. I decide to try one more time.

"Daryl?" I call out, and once again I'm met with silence. I curse, and glance around the room. He's been in there for so long. Too long.

I turn the knob and gently press the door open. In a fast second I can see the flesh of his back. He realizes my presence, and his towel-wrapped form whips around and slams the door, nearly taking my fingertips off with the movement.

My heart races. "You ever heard of knocking?" His shout through the door makes me back up. The image of his back, tattooed shoulder, and angry red lines of scar tissue are filling my thoughts.

"I tried knocking." I shout back, standing paralyzed for a second. My chest feels white hot, and the unrelenting question repeating in my mind is, who did that to him?

It takes me a second to gather my thoughts.

"When you didn't answer I worried-" the door opens, interrupting my yelling match with the peeling wood. He's dressed now, and his hair slicked back from the shower makes him look young. Vulnerable. Or maybe that's my fault too.

"Worried what?" He cuts me off. "You don't need to worry about me girl, I ain't your concern." His words feel sharp, and for a second I fight back the sting of tears. He grabs his jacket, the one he had offered to me just hours ago, and I blink. I watch him grab his boots and sit on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't mean to walk in on you." I say after a beat, and he looks up at me as he begins to tie his laces. The lines on his face smooth out slightly, but he doesn't say anything. I sigh, walking towards the bathroom.

"I brought you some breakfast." I motion to the coffee and muffins on the table, and turn to shut the bathroom door before he can tell me it ain't my concern to feed him.

As I splash the cold water over my face, I make every effort to erase the vivid outline of his form against the stark white of the bathroom tile.

...

When I leave the bathroom, the coffee and one of the muffins are missing from the side table. I can see through the window, blinds askew, that he's smoking, coffee in hand. I collect my things, and grab my tea. The leftover muffin looks too good to ignore, so I plop into the chair and start eating the chocolate chip goodness.

The door swings open, and his shape fills the doorway. A gust of cool air fills the room.

"It's almost 11. We gotta take off." He seems decidedly less agitated, and I send him a small smile.

"Okay sounds good." I pick up my stuff and follow him out of the room. He mutters something about dropping off the room key, and I wait outside while he speaks to reception.

The walk back to his truck is mostly quiet. I sip my tea and try to enjoy the scenery. When the bar is in sight, he clears his throat.

"Thanks for breakfast." He says it fast, like ripping off a band aid, and I can't help but turn to him.

"You're welcome." He sends a sideways glance at my bubbling features. I think I have an actual bounce in my step.

"Did you hear back from your brother?"

"No. He might not have checked his phone yet." He sounds more concerned than he means to let on. We approach the truck and he unlocks the passenger door, opening it widely for me to pull myself into the seat.

I clear my throat when he settles in next to me.

"About earlier-"

"S'nothing." He cuts me off and starts the engine. His tone tells me to drop it. I purse my lips and glance out the window, a familiar feeling of distance settling between us.

In the silence, his phone ringing startles me back to reality.

"Yeah?" He answers. I can't hear the voice on the other end of the line, but Daryl's face darkens immediately. A few stilted grunts of acknowledgement later, Dary's defeated voice murmurs, "Yeah. I'll come down right away." He snaps his phone shut, and tosses it roughly into the center console.

"Is everything okay?" I ask quietly. Daryl shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Merle got himself picked up last night. I need to head to the station." I nod slowly as I put the pieces together. He must have been arrested after Sherriff Grimes showed up. I feel guilty by association.

"Do you want me to come along?" I ask in case he wants support.

"If I brought a different shoulder to cry on every time Merle shit the bed, no one would be left to bring." He answers, pulling into my driveway.

I sigh and turn to Daryl, who is staring out the window, fingers thrumming on his lap.

"Thanks for the ride." I offer curtly, and open the door to the truck. I hop out, a weak smile on my lips as I shut the door and head towards my house. I just about turn around when I hear him pull out of the driveway - he normally waits for me to get inside.

Before I can properly think, a deep voice cuts through the air.

"Well hello pretty lady." My heart seizes. It's Joe.

I drop my keys, and try to look anything but guilty.

"Joe...What can I help you with?" I smile, and pick my keys up from the ground. "You gave me quite the fright." Joe steps to me with an uneven smile.

"Well Beth, I am hoping you can help me out with a bit of a mystery." I pretend his words pique my interest.

"Oh? What's that?"

"What good reason would a young blonde thing have with dating an old redneck, who can't offer nothing?" My blood runs cold.

"And why, do you think," Joe continues, "that blonde would be seen chatting with the Sheriff of Kings County minutes before he comes in and arrests half my men?" He has stalled in front of me now, eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. I smooth out my features and smile lightly.

"It's true that I know Sheriff Grimes; I babysit his daughter. But I hadn't spoken to him in weeks before last night." My heart is beating frantically. "And if you think Daryl is just some old redneck, you don't know him at all."

My face feels hot, and Joe grazes me with a deciphering look.

"Well, maybe there's no mystery at all!" Joe exclaims with fraudulent enthusiasm.

"I must say that would be most beneficial." As if on que, a truck pulls into my driveway, and Joe walks over to it.

"I gave myself a tour of your father's farm; what a wonderful piece of real estate. It would be an awful loss if some damage were to occur to all that expensive equipment locked up in the barn." He motions behind himself with a vague gesture.

I can feel my face fall; I'm about to speak when he cuts me off -

"But since there's no mystery, that shouldn't be an issue, should it?" When I stare at him with an icy dead stare he smiles wide, and hops into the truck; giving me a quick wave as they take off down the road.

I wait until they are out of sight before I run into my house, tears blurring my vision.

"Dad!?" I scream into the silent air. "Maggie!?" I run up the stairs, taking two at a time. Taped to my door is a note:

Beth,

Ran out to do some errands. Be home in time for dinner.

Missed you last night.

It's my dad's sloppy script. I breathe out, and hold the note to my chest. Fingers shaking, I dial Daryl's number. He answers on the second ring.

"Yeah."

"Daryl," my voice cracks, "when you left...Joe was here. He threatened me. He threatened to-"

"He was at your house?" Daryl interrupts.

"Yes." I shake as I say it.

"I'll be right there." I swear I can hear the snap of his ancient phone, and I feel the weight on my chest ease slightly.

I wipe my cheeks, standing slowly and pushing the door to my room open. I throw on something more comfortable than the dress. I thank god my dad didn't see me in it.

After a few moments, I can't stand the tacky feeling the tears had left on my skin. I enter the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. A loud pounding at the front door startles me. I freeze and feel my body lurch.

I walk gingerly down the stairs, and quietly look through the peephole. My heart flips with relief. It's Daryl.

I swing the door open, more than relieved to see him on my porch. I watch him look over me, and his concern heightens when he meets my eyes. He braces himself against the doorframe.

"Are you alright?" My shoulders roll under the weight of his undivided attention.

"Yes." It sounds like I've just caught my breath.

"Shouldn't have left." He mumbles under his breath, looking like he suddenly didn't know what else to say.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask, and I know he can tell how much I'm hoping he doesn't decline.

"Sure." He answers, not without a hint of wariness.

Daryl steps in like the threshold might take him into another dimension. I hide my smile. He closes the door and looks around; hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from getting your brother."

"It's nothing. He makes me wait enough of the time, it's 'bout time he had a taste of his own medicine."

I nod, and wring my fingers together.

"What did he say?" His voice is low. I take a deep breath, shifting my weight.

"He wasn't very pleased with the fact that someone saw me talking to the Sheriff a few minutes before their night went south." Daryl huffs with laughter and my heart seems to find its normal pace.

"Yeah I bet."

"He...basically said he thought you and I...being together...was suspicious. And then he threatened the farm. He took off pretty quick; I think he meant to let me know I'm on seriously thin ice." Daryl's face is creased.

"Then we'll just have to make sure we stay in his good graces for awhile." I want to ask him how, when another thought erupts from my mouth.

"Why did you and your brother want to work with him anyways? He's not a good man." I bite my lip and look away, wishing I hadn't said anything.

"I didn't- "he starts, "you wouldn't get it." I roll my eyes at his dismissal. When will he stop being so mysterious?

"I think I might." I answer, and he stares at me for a few seconds.

"There's no talking to Merle. He's a freight train, runs his own course."

I'm so happy he actually answers me that I don't think I keep the surprise off of my features.

"But what about you?" I ask. He shuffles in my doorway. There is something about him that makes it hard not to be curious.

"He's always taken me along for the ride, just the way it is." He stares at the photos lining the wall up the length of the staircase. My family's smiling faces beaming into the sunlight. He breathes in and speaks again.

"I didn't want to keep skipping from town to town. When we left the last place I told myself that I was done; told him too." He shakes his head, and I process the words that hang between us.

"You don't have to leave." I say quietly.

"If things keep sinking south, I won't have much of a choice." He voice is gruff, but at least he's looking at me. I rub my eyes. I guess this is the price you pay for wanting a little excitement in life.

"You work tonight?" He asks.

"Yeah."

"I gotta get Merle. I'll see you when you finish work." I want to protest- maybe I have plans tonight - but I don't. So I smile and catch the tail end of his scent as he turns to the door.

"Thanks for coming." I say as I take ahold of the door.

"Don't worry about it. And don't worry about what happened with Joe. I'll fix it." The absoluteness in his voice absolves me of any lingering doubt.

I close the door behind him, and watch his truck disappear from behind the curtains.

When I get back to my room, I grab my journal. I don't think I have had a chance to use this damn thing since the night all of this started. I flip through the pages, random bits and pieces of my thoughts lining the pages.

I lie on my bed, and find a blank page. After a few minutes, I bring my pen to the familiar paper.

If you are a cliffhanger ending,

I'm the one that doesn't know anything.

Like a magpie and a ring,

I am always going to be looking right to you.

Oh, you capture my attention.

I'm anticipating,

I'm watching, I'm waiting

For you to make your move.

AN: I know it has been awhile - so to make up for it, I created a little playlist for this fic! You can reach it here: 8tracks [dot com] /knoxedfiction/bethyl-soundtrack-event-horizon

Beth's journal entry is one of the songs in the playlist - and is the sole creation of Lights, and her adorable song Toes.