"…I meant to, once or twice," remembering that nervous giggle in her voice, Daryl inadvertently speeds up a little faster than he meant to as he takes them up over a clear hill on his bike.

Beth's arms tighten around his waist.

Shit, when?! He can hear his heartbeat inside his brain, his face feels warm. He knows he's gotta stay focused or else he risks crashing, or missing some clear sign of danger up ahead, but she really just sent his head spinning. She kissed him. Like it was the only thing to do, she'd just pressed her mouth up against his so he could taste her, feel her trembling slightly as she steadied herself, gripping his arm.

And what did he do?!

Stand there like an idiot, he was pretty sure.

Couldn't actually remember.

Nothing besides her warm lips, and that little shake and the strong, steady way her fingers pressed into his skin.

When did she mean to kiss him in the past? When could that have come up?

He remembered moments when he wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold onto her, not quite the way that she held onto him. The few times they'd embraced it felt like she was keeping the piecing of him together while he tried to fall apart. He didn't want to wrap her in his arms because he was worried she might sink into the ground, the way he almost had. It was worse than that, it was harder to explain. He wanted to feel what she was feeling, wanted her pulse running over his skin. He wanted to let her into his lungs, get the smell of her stuck to him.

He made her laugh sometimes, usually, without meaning too. He thought back on times when he made her laugh and wondered if Beth had ever thought about kissing him in one of those disarmed moments, when in the midst of death, she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes and smiled. She always blushed, just the tiniest bit, when she was trying not to laugh too loudly, trying not to be heard by any live or dead predator.

So many times, they'd found themselves holed up close together. There was the night they folded inside that trunk to wait out a parade of walkers that lasted through the night. He doubted she wanted to kiss him then. They were both tense with fear, tangled up together in the hot, confined space.

Beth looked at his lips, he looked at hers, but the storm kept pulling them away. Probably not then. But maybe. Fear makes you want, sometimes.

There was that night they burned down the moonshine still together. They were both lit and she was saying some words and looking at him real steady, like she could see all the shifting, broken parts of him in orbit around his soul. He didn't quite know how to explain what it felt like, stuck under her gaze. He'd suggested they go back inside the shack and she had this look on her face like there was mischief in her plan. "We should burn it down."

It was like they had to do something. Had to make a stand against the injustice of the world. There was a later moment too, as they walked into the night and he observed that determined way her eyes took in the night and took him in too. Had she wanted him then?

Dozens of times came to his mind, when they were holed up close together, when he was trying to teach her some trick of a tracker, or even when they struggled together. He remembered when she was caught in that bear trap, messed up her ankle. There was a split second as he helped her to her feet where she started to speak, only to get real quiet. At the time, he thought maybe it was just the pain.

Was that one of those moments?

She wanted to.

But she didn't.

If he was being honest with himself, from that moment, until she was gone was hard for him, because he felt that urge to be so close and couldn't quite let it happen. Nothing made him happier than the idea of surrendering to Beth Greene. Daryl Dixon wasn't good at being happy; he didn't have enough experience with it.

The thought gives him pause as the miles race by. This is another chance at what he almost let himself have back in that funeral home. A chance to live for real, and not just survive.

Don't get all carried away, Dixon. S'just a kiss.

Even that's a lie though. It's more than that and they both know it, but that makes it feel so real and dammit he's shaking. He's trembling at the thought that this girl ever wanted to kiss him, that she would act on it is another thing entirely.

And it wasn't even the first time she wanted to do it, just the first time she didn't hesitate. What made her hesitate before?

For that matter, what made him hesitate?

The world ended. Seems like a damn ridiculous time to be trigger-shy.

"What changed your mind?"

They finally got the chance to finish that conversation they'd started, but everything was so different now, so heavy on both their shoulders. Not to mention, so much time had passed, it was like he could feel that they were both still getting their bearings. In that kitchen at the funeral home, there'd been no need for that. They were both unguarded and feeling safer than they ever had. That was probably what went wrong.

Too vulnerable.

He wasn't going to let something like that happen again, but with the added shielding came a sense that the time would never quite be that perfect again.

If he hadn't gone to the door. Or, if he'd checked the window first and seen what was lurking out there, and they just holed up for the night until the herd passed them by again. If they'd been able to talk that night like he'd finally decided they should, what had ever been his plan?

Hell. It was so far back, he wasn't even sure he had one.

"What changed your mind?"

And she had that look on her face like she was only reading the first few lines in his mind, but she could already tell where it was going.

You changed my mind…

…I love you, Beth.

"Oh."

It terrified him, because it was new and it was fragile and because at this point he hadn't even imagined that she might be making sidelong glances at his lips and meaning to kiss him, once or twice. Some part of him thought that maybe, he might have a chance. What with them already well and truly acquainted with everything there was to know about the other. And him constantly getting better at making her smile.

There was also being the last man on earth, and all.

He was under no illusions that it was the kind of story a girl like that deserved or wanted. It was probably the only way that Daryl Dixon would ever see his life turn into a damn romance novel for any stretch, but for Beth Greene? Poor woman was slumming it. He knew it. He knew she had to know it.

And he never would have blamed her for rejecting him outright. On at least a few different levels, he expected it. He was going to hear her out, had even prepared himself to hear it a few different ways: "You're like family to me Daryl. I just don't feel that way about you." Yeah. She'd probably say something like that, because she's a real nice girl and saying the truth would be too harsh for her. She wouldn't tell him that he was too much a killer, too old, too ugly in every sense of the word, too beaten and busted up from too many wasted chances. She might think it. He definitely would, but she'd say something kinder and less truthful and he'd just nod and say that he understood.

He'd mean it, too.

But.

There was a chance. However slight, there was some chance that she'd listen to what he had to say, about all that he saw in her, and all that he wanted, and how she made him feel so different, and then she'd say that she didn't mind, or even that she felt the same way. It was tough to imagine, especially in that dimly lit kitchen.

It's somewhat easier to imagine it now that she's clinging to him on the back of his bike, head resting against the back of his shoulders while the kiss she planted on his lips still burns in his nearest memory.

He couldn't give her words, in this made-up memory; this warm place in his mind where everything was different, and they were still back there in the funeral home, her listening to his mumbled, clumsy declaration, probably trying not to laugh at him. He couldn't think of exactly what she'd say, because she always surprised him when she was so utterly honest. Maybe his own mind just didn't work like that, because she was always kinder, always a little more thoughtful and insightful than he was prepared for.

Maybe, if he'd gotten all the way through it, and she sat a little closer to him, he could have taken her face gently in his hands, could have brought his forehead close to hers, just the way they did when he first saw her again and knew she was alive. Maybe he could have pressed his lips into hers and let her kiss him back; it probably would have been different. More tentative, not like the firm, confident, yet soft way she'd nearly killed him before getting on the back of his bike.

She thought it was nothing new. That's why she kissed you like that.

He could live with that. Daryl's face burned as he followed that thought to its logical conclusion and wondered what kind of false memories she'd created for herself and what that meant.

Gotta get the girl back to Alexandria with the medical set-up there. Let the good doctor take a thorough look at her.

During their brief pause to refuel again that evening, Daryl tried not to act like a horse's ass, and ultimately defaulted to saying nothing. If she minded, Beth didn't let it show. They were all exhausted, but no one wanted to stop for the night again. In some ways, it made Daryl feel a little more confident about their new recruits. Even without knowing anything substantial about Alexandria, they all seemed anxious to get there.

Of course, they were desperate.

Fully expecting at least one more significant setback to interfere with their return trip, Daryl was shocked when he recognized a mile-marker suggesting that they were only an hour out. The moon's position suggested it was a little past midnight, but the idea that they might return to Alexandria before the sun rose on another cold day on the edge of survival was both inspiring and horrifying.

Beth's grip on his chest tightened, but she didn't make him stop until they came within sight of the gates.

Even with all their amenities, the lights were out in Alexandria, besides a single lantern––probably a mounted flashlight––coming from the guard tower.

"Daryl!" Beth called over the roar of the engine, "Can we stop?"

He should have anticipated this. He realized that the moment he shut his engine off and waved Aaron ahead with the small caravan in his wake. Aaron didn't even bother to slow down, or roll down his window to ask. The brief glimpse that Daryl caught of his bloodshot eyes about raised eyebrows suggested that the same thought had finally struck him too.

"I'm not. Ready." Beth said quietly. "I mean I am," she added, pacing anxiously besides the bike, hands on her hips. Some growling from the bushes barely distracted either of them.

Daryl lazily scanned the area before plunging a knife into a walker caught back behind the trees, while Beth kept watch out of habit, to make sure it was just one of them.

"I'm so ready," she corrected, chewing on her lip. "I just." She shrugged and her eyes filled with tears. "How do I put this behind me?"

He got it, a little. She wasn't quite emotionally prepared, but how could you be? For something like this? He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, but maybe it wasn't the kind of moment where it was even possible to feel better about any of it. Maybe this was supposed to be the spiritual equivalent of pulling a dagger from a grave wound. He couldn't spare her that.

Daryl couldn't be sure when he'd started walking towards her, but Beth definitely hadn't moved, and suddenly he found himself an inch away from her; she was so close that her slightly bowed head seemed anxious to rest against his chest. He lifted the backs of his fingers up to her cheek, ghosting along the clean line cutting its way down her scarred and dirty face.

Almost on instinct, his hand finds its way down against the black bandana still hanging around her throat and without even putting the slightest amount of pressure against the tip of her chin, she lifted her face up to look at him straight on. He drinks in her eyes a moment, secure in the knowledge that the next few hours of her life are going to be emotionally exhausting; it's going to be wonderful, and it's going to hurt, and if there's anything he can do to help––hell, there probably isn't.

Staring into her eyes, even in the pitch black night, there's so much there that he can read, without her having a say a single word. He wonders if his eyes give away as much. "You've got this, Greene," he mutters. It's a weak offering, but it's all he has, and he means it. She's trembling, she's unsure, that confidence that boosted her up earlier has all melted away.

He finds himself hesitating, it was always going to be a weakness. His hands fist, one curling into the ends of her hair brushing sweetly against her collarbone and the other by his side. His lips brush against hers briefly as he almost thinks better of it and steps away, breath caught in his throat. But just that quick, soft feel of her, the hint of a taste of her in the breath between them––it's too much to resist, and she's leaning into him. He picks up on the tiniest gasp that she tries to stifle before he slants his mouth against hers.

Beth's fingers curl through his hair, and his nervous hands find their place, resting against the small of her back.

A ways ahead, he can hear the gates opening, and Aaron's voice saying something urgently to someone. They made it, and there's still a lot more to deal with, and maybe this wasn't the time, but Daryl is through hesitating. Even if he's not good enough for her, even if she just needs a little boost of confidence right now, and even if, for her, this moment is just about needing to know that someone sees her, wants her, and that she was worth all of it, he can't trade it away. It means too much to him that she'd ever, under any conditions, let him offer his love to her. However insufficient it might be.

She doesn't seem to feel that way, at least for the moment. Beth massages her lips against his, pressing in closer. His jaw aches, his whole body feels like it's trying to wrap around the little figure curling deeper into his chest. The heady feel of having her so tight against him makes it harder to draw in breath between capturing her mouth with his.

What finally snaps Daryl back to reality is distant shouts and an annoyed thought, Keep it down, the walkers might hear you!

"I need to see her!" It's Maggie's distant drawl, raised up to a quivering yell.

Hearing her sister's voice is what freezes Beth in place. She pulls back from Daryl, unmistakable concern in her eyes.

She clutches at the bandana around her neck and for a moment, Daryl can see the gears in her head and she considers hiding, some unexplainable urge. She lets it fall and turns her back to him in order to face the crowd, rapidly approaching in the dark.

Alexandria is lighting up, just down the road. More figures are coming into the street, their dark shadows loom up ahead. He can see Maggie running towards the glaring headlight on his bike, backlit by the small city waking up and blinking it's many yellow eyes.

Beth takes an uneasy step onto the road and towards her sister. A good deal of black soot from the smoke is in her hair and over the top half of her face. She's got her hair down so that the small bald patch on the back of her head is visible. She strides forward, but doesn't break into a run.

Maggie on the other hand, sprints straight towards her sister, nearly taking her to the ground as she grabs a hold of her. For a moment they are suspended in silence and then Maggie lets out a cry that rips through Daryl's heart, because it's too similar to when she thought she'd lost her sister, to when she did lose her father.

In spite of the look on his face, Rick is still thinking straight and begins to usher all of them towards the gate. It's probably too much to ask Maggie to calm down right now and they don't want to draw walkers to them.

Daryl lingers outside, revving up the motor on his bike as more walkers start to amble out of the woods.

Thinking fast he hollers a string of cuss words at them, getting their attention and making the engine growl again, he leads them away from Alexandria, but keeps it in his sights the whole way, through his mirrors and over his shoulder. The walkers amble after the bike, leaving the small crowd alone long enough that they can scurry to the gate.

He makes a wide circle in the road, leaving the walkers in the dust as he slides through the doors of the gate. Aaron and Eric close the heavy door together, and Shepherd helps them lock it shut. Beth has disappeared into a collection of sobbing bodies. Every few seconds, Daryl catches a glimpse of her small body rapidly squeezing herself between people to greet someone else with a firm embrace. Her breathing comes out in weeping gasps and laughter.

No one understands. No one leaves any air open to explain. There will be time enough for that later.

Doctor Edwards and the rest of the Grady group stand with a decidedly guarded and uncomfortable stance near to the gate, but they are starting to look with curiosity and open mouths at the homes around them, the watchtower, the clean, well-fed people that greet them.

Lingering far back in the road, Daryl makes out Abe, Tara, Eugene, Rosita, Gabriel are slower to make their way to the scene. They never knew the girl, but they saw her body. It will be a miracle for them too.

Beth is sobbing as she holds Judith, he can barely make out the exclamation that she's twice the size as when she last saw her. He has to take a moment to stare at Carol, the consummate survivor, who is usually too consumed by sixteen different plans about how she should look and act, clearly coming apart as she holds both Beth and Judith's hands in her own.

Giving the baby back to Rick, Beth squeezes his hand. The man can't even speak, but that's about what Daryl would expect of him. He just nods, rapidly, awkwardly almost as he swallows. Rick pulls Beth in, gathering up her hair in his hands, Daryl can see the tip of one finger running over the bare patch of flesh before he kisses her right on her crown, tears finally breaking free from his eyes.

"I hate to interrupt," Deanna looks grave indeed as she steps into the midst of the family reunion, "We have a lot of new faces here, and I can't think of a decent reason to wait until daylight to start learning who they are."

"Please," Maggie appears besides Beth, tears flowing freely down her face, "Just let me take her home."

"That's why I was thinking we should start with Beth." Deanna nods.

"Lily?"

Daryl barely hears Tara's broken voice through all the madness and Maggie's haggard sobs. But he does hear it. Looking up to find her weaving her way through the crowd, he sees that she's made a bee-line right to the center of the Grady group, where Lily stands hunched over, exhausted, looking at the ground.

"Lily?!"

Daryl isn't even sure that Lily hears Tara before she looks up. Tara flies straight into Lily, who's eyes go wide before she catches her, a wild cry escaping her cracked and sore mouth. The two of them hit the road with all four of their knees.

"…And her," says Deanna, eyebrows high.

They know she's right. There are rules. There's protocol. There's every reason to listen well and do this the right way. But she doesn't seem the least bit surprised when the whole night crumbles around her. The world is locked outside, and for a moment, it's almost like they got a piece of the world back.

So, I'm very aware that a lot of your are reading both this one and Anno Domini, and I've decided that for the sake of trying to simplify my writing habits a little, I'm going to finish this one completely before I work any more on Anno Domini. It's almost not even worth mentioning it at this point, because I'll probably only have one more chapter here anyway, but I thought I'd bring it up, just as a head's up for those of you waiting on Anno Domini. I will get back to it, as soon as I'm finished with this, which should be real, real soon.

Demons - Imagine Dragons