If Merle and Maggie hadn't been there… if Beth and Daryl had been alone on the side of the road, she wouldn't have kissed him lightly on the cheek. She would have thrown her arms around his neck and used whatever confidence she could scare up from within her trembling body to try and entice him into kissing her the way she wanted. For an instant, as they stood there on the side of the road, she almost managed to overcome her fear that he would think she was just a stupid girl with a crush.

Would it have made it more or less likely that he'd come to the farm?

She wanted him to come.

The car ride home didn't go at all how Beth anticipated it. She thought that she and Maggie would yell at each other for the first five minutes or so, but then they'd get to trading their 'It's okay's and soon enough Maggie would be bugging her for a blow-by-blow of the whole night, and for the last few miles to the farm they'd both be laughing about the whole thing.

That wasn't what happened.

Maggie didn't string two words together. Beth rarely saw her like this, and she'd never directed the silent treatment at her younger sister before. She couldn't tell whether she was really mad, or just distracted. Either way, she wouldn't talk to her. Beth explained what had happened with zero feedback from her sister. When she was finished and they were still miles from home, Maggie only nodded at her, checked the rear-view and then kept her eyes on the road and her mouth shut.

"Are you really that mad?" Beth had asked her as Maggie parked the Saturn in front of the farmhouse.

"No," Maggie sounded sincere, but she had to be lying. There was no other reason for her to shut down like this. She got out of the car while Beth was still fumbling with her seat-belt and hurried towards the house to greet her parents, along with Otis and Patricia.

Beth took her time, she half-expected that when she got to the house Maggie would have told her parents everything, thus ensuring a long night of crushing expressions of disappointment would follow. She was relieved when she came into the house and found everything calm and more or less, just as she'd left it. Her mom gave her a hug and said she liked her new shirt and then that she looked tired, giving her the perfect excuse to go right up to bed.

She vaguely heard Otis say something about how it was too bad the night got cut short, but that it would be nice to have Maggie's help with breakfast in the morning. She wondered what story Maggie had come up with to explain her early arrival and picking up Beth along the way.

Showered and in bed at last, Beth listened to the rest of the house going to sleep. Before the light in the hallway went out, she saw a shadow stop the light for a few minutes as someone paused outside her door. Somehow, she knew it was Maggie. The light in the hall went out a few minutes later and she could barely hear footsteps fading into silence.

As she watched the clock tick closer to her birthday, Beth thought about Daryl. It didn't seem like anything she'd said to him sunk in. He didn't want to hear it, and who could blame him? They'd just met and she immediately demanded that he change.

The more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she felt. It would be a good thing, if he ever did decide he wanted to try a less hazardous lifestyle. Maybe her words would come back to him when he was ready, and he'd ditch his asshole friends and… and what? Straighten up and fly right? Settle down? She believed in that stuff, but if she was being totally honest with herself, that wasn't her main motivation for confronting him. That wasn't the reason she scribbled down directions to her father's farm and forced it into his hand.

She knew that he'd disappear. He would get shot down in Mexico, or crash on his bike, or he'd simply wander Georgia ad infinitum and she'd never see him again. She, on the other hand, would probably end up living on this farm or someplace like this for the rest of her life, or maybe she'd move to Atlanta like Maggie. In any case, they might as well be living in completely different universes. The instant that thought occurred to her she'd felt sick and she wanted some way that he could cross over into her world.

The only problem was that he had to want that. Why would he?

He could want me. She hid her face in her pillow though there was no one around to see it. She'd never felt less grown-up than right now; she was letting her imagination fly far away from reality. In reality, he hadn't given her any indication that he wanted anything to do with her, outside of not seeing her hurt on his watch. He'd tolerated her hugging him and badgering him with probing questions and observations. When she kissed him he'd turned to stone again. She'd purposefully avoided looking at his eyes when she backed away because she was afraid she'd only see that he was annoyed with her. What if he was somewhere right now, thinking about how glad he was to be rid of her? Or what if he didn't think of her at all?

Beth fell asleep before the clock turned over to midnight. She was still seventeen.

If he told Merle about Beth offering them jobs on the farm, he'd never hear the end of it. In his mind, he weighed that with the likely-hood that Merle wouldn't go for it, and also… there was the possibility that it was his only chance to ever see Beth again. He shouldn't have let that last one matter so much. He shouldn't care whether he ever saw her again—seeing the girl would only be more of a problem. It wasn't like there was anything good that could come of seeing her. He wasn't that guy.

Why did she have to kiss him? Sweet as sunlight and rain, he could still feel her right there, though she'd barely touched him. He wished she hadn't done that. He wished she hadn't stopped there. Sometimes, he wanted to be that guy.

He didn't speak much to his brother that night or the next morning, but he doubted Merle took notice. His big brother spoke enough for both of them, more often than not, and Daryl let him. At least it was something in the air besides breakfast smoke and whiskey vapors.

Merle was restless around their little shack, talking fast, cussing when he felt like the silence had gone on too long. Daryl lay on his back on the collapsed remains of a sofa, listening to him with one wrist across his eyes to block out the daylight.

"Ya smoke more when you're stressed," Merle observed, plucking the cigarette right from Daryl's mouth to take a drag off it. "You'll have a pack knockin' around for a while and barely make a dent in it. Then ya snap and blaze through the whole thing at once." He sat down heavily on the arm of the sofa above Daryl's head, leaning back with his arms crossed. "All in knots about tonight, or what?" he asked gruffly, something nearly like concern ringing in his voice.

"We ain't gotta do it," muttered Daryl. "It's stupid, and ya hate those guy, almost as much as I do."

"Their money's okay," Merle managed a smile that turned into a cough as he expelled a puff of smoke.

"We could do somethin' else."

"Yeah, like what?"

In the end, Daryl didn't hesitate nearly as long as he thought he would. He pulled Beth's card out of his pocket. It had gotten roughed up, but the words were still clear where she'd written them on every bit of white space she could find around the dancing joker. With a flick of two fingers he offered it to his brother who snatched it, reading with eyebrows low and mouth slightly open. "… the hell?"

"Girl's dad hires farmhands… Been a while since we signed up for farmwork. Could be nice, takin' regular pay for a little while."

Leaning back to get a better look at his brother, Merle's jaw snapped shut and he took a moment to sweep him over with a searching glance. "Damn boy. I didn't think she liked your ass that much." He laughed as he slid off the arm of the sofa, still holding onto the playing card, he turned it over in his fingers. With his other hand he put the cigarette out on the couch and tossed it carelessly into the corner of the room. "Not a bad notion…" He smirked, "We could at least try it out… 'til old man farmer kicks your ass to the road for tuppin' his daughter and we gotta book it with copper-coating chasin' us. Like that classic dirty joke—I ain't heard that one in years… Yeah. Why not? Maybe after this business with Jer and his crew." He tossed the card back towards Daryl, it landed on the filthy floor in front of the sofa.

Doing his best to ignore the vulgar part of Merle's ramblings, Daryl got snagged on the last words with a wince he asked, "Why after?" Daryl sat up with a groan, cracking his neck to punctuate the question. "Why not forget 'bout the guns?"

Merle's face fell, while his shoulders rounded, he shifted his weight, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "We gotta take it. We need the money."

Finally, it clicked. Maybe he would have picked up on it earlier if he hadn't been so distracted by Beth Greene and the whole debacle with the cops. "You get in deep with someone?" He watched Merle closely for a reaction.

With a shallow breath and a minute to steel himself, Merle was rock-hard and cold. No longer troubled in the least he came clean with the air of a man talking about something that had happened to someone else, a long time ago. "Deep 'nough. Ya remember a couple months back? After that construction stint? I didn't meet up with ya for a couple of weeks? I mighta whiled away a bit in Atlantic City for a weekend."

"Atlantic City?" Daryl repeated, furrowing his brow. "You don't gamble."

"I did," Merle grimaced, "Coulda been that I was strung out… more so than you've seen. Anyhow—I had to borrow a bit. Sum's come due."

Daryl hung his head over his knees, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Coulda told ya, I reckon," it was about as close as Merle would ever get to offering an apology to his brother.

"Yeah, 'probly," about as close as Daryl ever got to accepting an apology from his brother.

Taking a ragged breath, Daryl let his hands drop from his face. The first thing he saw was the joker card that Beth had scribbled the address for the farm on, settled on the ground between his feet. He raised his head to face his brother.

"Don't ya look at me like that," Merle growled at him, "You've been known to partake in the odd 'shroom here n' there, brother. Just 'cause ya ain't got quite the same predilections as myself… I know ya don't take to the crystal, or much else for that matter… pot makes your tummy all sick—which by the way is the complete opposite for how it is with the rest of us, 'sposed to make ya feel better—point is, wipe that look off your face, boy. I ain't never lost control. Just… had a bad night, is all."

Nodding, Daryl conceded, but didn't blink. If Merle felt guilty for putting them in this position, it was his own damn bed to lie in. Daryl wouldn't help him along, but he wasn't going to reassure him either. He snatched the card off the ground and put it back in his pocket. "Guess we do it, then. Got another cigarette?"

She must have had good dreams, but Beth didn't remember them. She clung to the edges of some delicious, faraway feeling with her eyes still closed as she listened to the rest of the house shake off the sleep. Birds sang out the window, the orange bleed through her eyelids but she didn't want it to be over.

It took her until there was a knock at her door to remember that it was her birthday. Maggie was already dressed. She gave her sister a sheepish smile, as she closed the door behind her back. "Happy Birthday," she sat down beside her in the bed, giving her a one-armed hug.

Beth smiled back at her, but didn't say anything right away, still uneasy about Maggie's chilly silence the night before. She read her sister's expression as one of shame and decided that she probably felt guilty about how she'd handled things. Finally Beth took it upon herself to break the silence, "You comin' to church?"

With a grimace Maggie said, "I don't know…"

"It'd make daddy happy. It's my birthday. Nice to have daddy happy on my birthday." She batted her eyes.

Maggie's green gaze narrowed at her a moment, but she couldn't hold a serious face, with a snort of laughter she said, "You win, I'll go. I don't have a dress though."

"The scary lawyer-suit you had on last night's perfect," said Beth, nudging her gently.

"I ain't a lawyer," said Maggie with a smile of relief she added, "Thank heavens." Her smile widened until it was a grin of guilt, "I sorta made those cops and that FBI agent think I was though," she admitted in a whisper that turned into laughter.

"What?!" Beth said louder than she meant.

"Shh!" But Maggie was grinning widen than ever.

"You lied to them?!"

"Not exactly lied," said Maggie slowly, "I told them I came straight from the firm—which I did, and then I might have dropped Andrea's name and let them think that I was representing her, or working with her at least, but I never said that I was a lawyer. They might have just thought that to themselves and I didn't correct them," she shrugged.

"Yeah, that's lying," Beth called her out brightly.

"Technically it's… deceptive," Maggie admitted, biting her lip, "But I was scared for you—I wanted to get you outta there quick, and I didn't think they'd take me seriously."

For a stretch, neither of them said anything. Maggie was tracing the floral pattern on Beth's comforter. Around them, the house was noticeably more awake, she could hear the occasional noise from the kitchen and out the window she thought she saw some distant movement as the work for the day got underway. She watched her sister's smile slowly fade as her eyes filled with that same concern that had haunted them the night before.

"I'm sorry that I scared you so bad," said Beth. For the first time, she really meant it. She shouldn't have gotten Maggie involved. Everything would have been fine if she hadn't dragged her in, she'd only managed to make sure that her night was ruined.

"Beth, can I tell you something?" Maggie looked up at her earnestly, "And you won't get mad?"

"Uh… yeah," said Beth, not having enough time to think it through or be worried about what she might say.

"Your friends are damn fools. I kinda hate 'em." She spoke with such perfectly seriousness that it made Beth dissolve into giggles again and after a few seconds Maggie followed suit. "I mean it. They're idiots," she said, trying to reign her laughter in. "I never got why you hung out with them in the first place."

"You remember your friends in high school?" Beth countered.

Maggie went a little red at that, and conceded with a raise of her eyebrows and a nod. "Yeah, they were pretty dumb too, I guess."

"I dunno," Beth shrugged, "Ya know how it is. Small town. We've known each other forever…"

"But you're growin' up… and they ain't."

Slowly, Beth raised her head up and down, lips pursued. "Yeah."

Maggie frowned down at her hands, still in her lap, "I'm sorry I acted like that last night. I just have a lot to think about these days. And the whole thing with you in that drug shack was too bizarre to process right away," she let out a hiss and added, "And then you kissed that Daryl guy, and I think I just lost it for a little while."

"On the cheek," Beth felt her face going ruddy, betraying her.

In reply, Maggie only gave her a look, stranded between a glare and a knowing smirk.

Usually the champion of staring contests with either of her siblings, Beth couldn't hold this one.

"You really liked him, didn't you?" Maggie finally called her out in a firm voice, it wasn't actually a question; it was an alarmed observation.

She couldn't muster up the gumption to lie right away, but she did manage a kind of cowardly shrug.

"He's a hell of a lot older'n you."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Beth said tonelessly, she bit her lip, remembering a detail from the night before that she hadn't included when she told Maggie the story in the car.

As if able to smell it on her, Maggie's eyes narrowed, "…What?"

"I told him to come to the farm." She hadn't been specific about what it was that brought Daryl and his brother to the house; she'd only implied that they had some hand in illegal dealings. She'd told Daryl that she wouldn't tell anyone about the guns and she meant it, but something compelled her to confess a portion of it, "I told him he oughta work here."

Maggie was shaking her head, green eyes pleading, "Oh Beth, I wish you hadn't done that."

"Why not?" Beth shot back, "If he don't find legit work he'll end up doing something… dangerous, with Merle."

Maggie didn't want to fight. Her response was firm, but quiet and tinged with compassion. "You can't save him."

The sirens were distant now. The sound of the pouring rain was louder in his ears than anything else, except maybe his own pumping blood. It was flood season and that meant the water came from every direction, it pummeled his face, drenched him through every layer of clothing and muddied up the ground beneath his feet, but somehow he'd still managed to run. At least the cops didn't have dogs. At least the rain would get rid of a lot of the evidence that he'd ever let out that direction. Maybe he could still be a ghost in this.

Daryl's feet pounded at the ground as he tore through the edge of the woods and barely managed to stop himself sliding head-first into the ditch along the road. It was filled with water, but it was his only route of escape, so after psyching himself up for half a heart-beat he waded in, only to grab handfuls of slick grass and dirt on the other side and begin pulling himself up to the road. The only good thing about a little flooding was that there wouldn't be too many people out to see him scrambling around like the guilty filth that he was. And those sirens were going the other way, heading straight to the damage, while he'd managed to slip away from it.

Though he needed it, he didn't pause to catch his breath. His lungs hated him for what he'd just put them through—and for smoking so much. He really needed to seriously consider quitting. He checked at his waistband to make sure he still had his gun; it hadn't jostled free during his mad dash from the scene of the crime. A half-mile down the road, he saw his bike and his brother's waiting right where they'd met up with Evan and Jeremiah a few hours earlier.

His heart sank when he saw that they were still the only two vehicles in front of the lonely little diner. The place was empty, finally closed and it didn't look like anyone was waiting there for him.

Standing in front of the pitch-black diner, next to the two motorcycles he couldn't help but call out, though he knew it was futile, "MERLE!" he shouted his brother's name twice more, but he was alone in the rainstorm. He knew it would be like this. The minute things started to go bad, and it looked like the police were on their way, he'd somehow felt it in the hollow of his chest.

He would get away. But he'd be the only one.

Merle wasn't as fast as him, but he was a tough, strong, smart sumbitch. Maybe Daryl was wrong, maybe his older brother wasn't in handcuffs, again. Though he wanted to be far from here, he sat down in the doorway of the diner. It was under enough cover that he only occasional found himself slapped in the face with a sheet of water that poured down from the canopy. He waited until the storm was over and the air went back to being cool and dry. He waited until the dark ebbed.

It was the start of the morning shift at the diner that drove him away, though he never saw anyone up close. The minute he realized that the car at the far end of the road would likely be coming to open the diner for the day, and that he had no money and was soaked through and looked about as criminal and homeless as he ever had.

Merle was arrested again, this time, it might be for a long while. Or, there was the possibility that he was still on the lamb, but couldn't meet up where they'd left the bikes for some reason.

There was also the possibility that he was hurt or… Daryl didn't think about it long enough to feel more than a shadow and fear, or decide how it would change him. He picked Merle's bike over his own—it was in better condition and besides that, if Daryl left it here and anything happened to it, Merle would murder him. He ditched his own instead, and rode away before the day manager got a good look at him.

I didn't give details on precisely what happened here, but it'll get expanded on in later chapters. For now, let's just note that Daryl is on his own with Beth's address in his pocket. Hope you guys dig it! Let me know what you think, and a big thank you to those who review as guests also. I cannot answer you individually, so... public thanks!

Wish You Were Here - Blackmore's Night