R_S: Wow guys, I really love all the positivity this story has been getting. I'm up to an average of nearly 10 reviews per chapter, which is absolutely amazing for a story that updates daily, and they're all good reviews. There's been not a single flame, or worse, anti-bethyl comment unrelated to the actual story. You guys are making this story so much more fun for me, so thank you! =)

This chapter, sadly, contrasts with all the happy. I really hope I got dark Daryl in character. He's really difficult to write, because he has so many feelings but hides them... then when shit gets really real he flat-out cries. He goes from 0-60 with his emotions, and it's difficult to write... let me know what you all think. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Bittersweet

Another cool night set in, the wind tickling his nose and gently brushing aside wisps of brown hair. Daryl sighed. Shitty things always seemed to happen on hot days and cool nights. What happened to the classic old setting of a dark and stormy night as a harbinger of doom? Hell, he was starting to fear the sun, becoming convinced it foreshadowed evil every time he saw it. The nights that week were lonesome to him, more so than before. He had not realized he had grown accustomed to a sweet little blond presence until it was gone. She was avoiding him, not showing up for their customary meetings, and he thought now he knew why. Her daddy must have told her what was happening, and she could not bear to face him, did not know how to hide the truth. Part of him could do nothing more than repeat a self-loathing mantra at the realization that he was missing her presence, the sweet young girl that was far too classy for him in any lifetime, more than he was worrying about Carol (that mantra went something along the lines of 'shit shit shit shit shit…'). Another part of him was furious, screamed that she was damn smart hiding from him after just about lying, because keeping something from someone was the same thing in his book. A final (if he was being honest, a bigger) part of him just wished she was there. One would never know, but he hated being alone.

Beth knew he hated being alone; she could tell in the way he always watched the world. Those sharp blue eyes, calculating and far too familiar, could read a person down to what was written on their bones, through a fog of longing, that telltale sadness that was only visible if you knew how to see it. She remembered them vividly, staring at her as she worked and looking down at her as he had a few nights ago. The dream had been so vivid she could smell him, like he was actually there curled up with her. She wondered if his skin felt as soft in real life- she had never felt his back, but she knew she was remembering the texture of his hands perfectly. It had been perfect, the feeling of his weight on top of her, gentle yet firm. She did not think the smile would slip off her face until it did, his grip tightening and weight becoming oppressive. His smell dissolved into that of another, one she did not care to think about. A lone eye stared down at her, full of hate and insanity, and for a moment, the two men were one. It woke her with her own screaming.

But looking at him then, sitting alone in the cool dark night, it was hard to think of him as anything but her Daryl (when he became hers, she did not know, nor did she care to ruminate on it, because that school-girl crush was becoming far too intense). She was not sure how long she had stood there watching the back of him, but it felt like an eternity before she willed her legs to move, to carry her beside him.

"Hey." She whispered hoarsely, finding her voice. She had been avoiding him a bit lately, thoroughly disturbed by her dream. It had been jarring to see him like that, juxtaposed against the Governor and left to blur between the lines of differentiation. Beth wasn't sure what she was more ashamed of: the dirty Daryl dream (she enjoyed the alliteration of it) or the fact that for a short time, she might have been almost as afraid of him as the Governor. But one look at his brooding, sad features, and such thoughts felt like a kick in the gut.

Oh, she had missed him. She found herself trying to commit his every feature to memory. His hair had gotten longer since the farm, that was different than in her dream, and his eyes weren't quite so electric blue in the dark, more shadowed. And, if she was being perfectly honest, he looked older, more weather-worn. But he was still beautiful. His voice, though, that she had imagined perfectly, warm and rough and the kind of sound that she felt in her gut.

"Carol ain't gettin' better… Your pa thought maybe he could find a way to fix 'er up, but there ain't." He said, in lieu of a greeting.

Beth nodded sadly, sitting beside him, "I know… I don't think he ever really could. I think maybe he and Carol just wanted to say that to give us a bit of hope when we really needed it."

"That's cruel." He whispered hoarsely, but she shook her head.

"No, it's sweet. They're still tryin' to protect all of us, even missin' half their limbs n' lyin' on death's doorstep. It's nice… you need people like that in this world."

"I think it's stupid; no use denyin' anythin' nowadays."

"I'd deny everything if I could," she admitted, comfortable enough with him to feel weak, "I remember thinkin' something like that when we found Oscar n' Axel and them hiding away in the cafeteria. I remember wishing I could have been in there with them, not faced all of that for those months. I try to be strong, but… I'd trade this world for ignorance in a heartbeat."

"When'd they tell ya?" He would not face her, even as she turned to look at him curiously.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"That she was dyin', how long ya known?"

"I didn't know any more than you did, honestly. I found out tonight. Trust me, no one gets protected n' coddled more than I do; there's no way they'd tell me if they didn't have to."

"Then why ya been stayin' away?" He stared at her intently, looking vaguely annoyed under his haze of heartbreak. Her mouth open and shut a few times like a fish, trying to find the words, because she could not very well tell him she had a sex dream about him that turned into a nightmare about the Governor. A blush spread delicately across her cheeks at the thought.

Finally she settled on "It's complicated. I haven't been feeling myself lately is all…" his gaze did not waver, so she kept talking, "I think maybe I felt my daddy was keepin' things from me, that I could sense something was wrong and just couldn't place it." Still his gaze was heavy on her, a bit watery, but as Daryl spoke, his voice was even and strong as always.

"Don't stay away again."

Beth had seen him with a hole in his head, soaked in blood from getting skewered with an arrow. She had seen him look scary, seen him mourn, and seen him smirk. But that night was the first time she had ever seen him, and even though she knew Daryl was the kind of guy who liked it that way, she felt kind of ashamed. It was at that moment she realized that she would not have seen him if he did not want her to, so those quiet nights and long talks beneath the stars must have meant as much to him as they did to her. And then she knew, irrevocably, that whatever feelings she had for him could not be contained or dismissed, she was not strong enough for that.

Another question, though, remained: was he?