"No."

It's not even ten o'clock in the god damned morning, and already Daryl's patience has been put to the test.

And the man's temper has never really been anything even remotely close to controlled (which is something that even he will easily admit); so right now, Daryl is actually surprised - and yes, maybe even a little bit fucking proud of himself - about the fact that nothing (including a certain someone's nose) has been broken, or at least punched.

Inside of his chest, his heart is absolutely thundering from the adrenaline that has taken over his body as a result of his burning anger, and the youngest Dixon brother can't quite help but think to himself - just for one second - that he has honest to god never been so furious in his entire life.

That ain't quite true though, of course.

Besides this, there have been countless other occasions over his thirty six years of life where Daryl Dixon has been left absolutely seething. Just a few days ago, for example - when he happened to find himself riding past a badly bruised and beaten Beth Greene - might have been a better example of one time in his life when he felt more enraged than he ever had done before. There certainly aren't enough words in any language to even begin to describe how he had felt that day; in that moment when he had realised that it was her.

There's nowhere that he can even begin to start describing the fury that overcame him when he realised just how brutal her injuries were, no explanation - verbal or not - that he could ever conjure up to explain the pain and the guilt that he has carried with him since that moment as a result of what Beth had to endure.

Hell, the girl might be a lot stronger than she looked, but that didn't necessarily mean that Daryl was; and just thinking too long about what had happened to her had him feeling all sorts of emotions that he really didn't want to.

So, Daryl might not currently be the angriest that he has ever been in his life right now, but he's still sure as hell pissed off.

In a way, he thinks to himself that it's a little bit strange, really, and even slightly overwhelming when he thinks about it - because anger is anything but foreign to Daryl, anything but new; and yet it's still something that he hasn't managed to get under his complete control, an emotion that he hasn't been able to tame or master as of yet. He has heard a saying several times before - practice makes perfect, he thinks it goes - but hell, with him, it just doesn't seem to apply.

With anger, he's had all of the practice in the world and then some, and yet he's still nowhere near even just being good at dealing with it. Especially not now.

(But then again, after everything that has happened to the girl - the one that really is anything but his, and yet still is all the same - Daryl thinks that perhaps it might actually be even close to justifiable that he's as pissed off as he currently is.)

"Daryl," Rick says, the sound of his voice breaking the biker away from his muddled thoughts.

It's been like this for a few days, now, his head; messed up even worse than it ever was before, and all since he found Beth walking down the road with her clothes torn and her face bloody and her skin marked.

The sheriff's tone of voice is calm and cool and something that is vaguely close to confident; but the man's hesitant blue eyes and the nervous way that he works over his bottom lip betray his true feelings, and the realisation of that just encourages Daryl to further stand his ground. Silently, he stands a little bit taller and broadens his shoulders ever so slightly, his stare dark as he looks directly over at where Rick is stood across the hall.

He's lingering in the doorway of the kitchen with Carol stood slightly behind him, her own cool blue eyes locked on Daryl, but he's not even acknowledged her presence as of yet. Instead, his focus has been solely on the sheriff, and that's how he intends it to stay until Rick leaves.

For what feels like it could easily be several minutes, all three of them stand in completely and utter silence; and whilst Daryl is unwilling to give in to what it is that Rick wants, he still can't help but feel a tiny sense of admiration for the man - especially considering the fact that he is still actually trying to push this whole matter any further.

You've gotta try and understand, Rick had said just a few minutes before - and thinking of those words again, Daryl almost laughs in disbelief about the over-confidence of this deluded man.

Almost.

"I already said no," Daryl spits, his bitter words coming out harshly through his gritted teeth.

By now, his blue eyes are wilf and blazing as he stares the sheriff down; and at this point, he isn't even sure whether or not he's actually even blinking any more. Deep breaths are all that are currently keeping him grounded, and even they are shaky, so Daryl knows that he's getting dangerously close to his breaking point.

(It's somewhere that he's not visited for a while, and he isn't sure that he wants to do it in front of anyone that isn't himself.)

"Ain't you fuckin' listenin'?" Daryl pushes, his large hands repeatedly clenching into fists and then unclenching again as they hang tightly by his sides. Rick's eyes flicker down to look at them, watching his fingers move for just two or three seconds before he looks up again. "What, you tellin' me that you ain't got ears now, sheriff?"

Being stood in front of his bedroom door the way that he is - the door that he knows that she is currently behind, the door that leads into the room where he hopes that she's still curled up underneath his bedsheets fast asleep, where he hopes that she hasn't been disturbed from her slumber by his loud, shaking voice - Daryl can't help but feel as though he's currently playing the role of a guard dog for her. And hell, it's something that his older brother would - will - rile him mercilessly about, but right now, he's too angry to care about that.

By now, Daryl has already let her down enough - and fuck, he barely even knows the damned girl - and if this is what he has to do for the rest of their lives to make sure that no more harm comes to her as a result of him, then so be it. He just doesn't care.

In fact, the only thing that Daryl Dixon currently cares about is not letting anyone other than himself into that bedroom - the one that is technically his, but may as well be hers, now.

Especially not Rick fucking Grimes.

Licking his lips, Rick tilts his head and chances a quick glance in Carol's direction - one that Daryl doesn't miss, one that he couldn't possibly miss when he can't find it within himself to look away from the sheriff's clear blue eyes - and then he looks back at Daryl once again, squinting slightly as though he is in deep thought about something. By now, it's more than apparent that Rick had thought that this would be anything but a problematic visit - at least where Daryl was concerned, anyway - but the youngest Dixon doesn't really give a shit about what Rick thought this would be.

For once, the man actually looks something akin to normal in just a plain white tee shirt and a pair of blue denim jeans; but Daryl sure as hell ain't stupid, and he knows that even if he's technically got a day off, Rick is still on the job.

A man like Rick Grimes is never off the job.

"Daryl," Rick tries once again, this time reaching one of his arms out towards him. "I completely understand that you're feelin' a little - a little protective of Beth right now." The sheriff edges closer ever so slightly, and Daryl stiffens impossibly more as a result of it. "But I jus' need to -"

There's something about the way that Rick is nudging closer towards him that has Daryl raging even worse than before - something about the fact that this man thinks he's seriously going to get past him and into that room - and his body is shaking almost violently now; the colour of his cheeks turning a dark red as a result of his fury.

"How many fuckin' times do I gotta say it, Grimes?" Daryl asks, only he yells more than speaks; his deep voice booming around the apartment. "No one is gettin' in that room, 'cept for me. 'Specially not some fuckin' cop."

There - he's said it. Stated how he feels about it. About the fact that nobody is allowed in the room, allowed near Beth, unless they're him.

About the fact that he knows Rick isn't just an off-duty officer wanting to help out.

At Daryl's angry explanation, Rick lets out a heavy exhale; and Daryl can just tell that the sheriff wants to argue with him about all of this - that he probably wants to insist to the biker that he genuinely isn't working now, that he just wants to make sure that Beth is alright after everything that happened to her - but he (wisely) doesn't push Daryl any further about the issue. Instead, Rick actually backs away ever so slightly, moving so that he's closer to Carol once again.

And for a long few moments, it's silent in the hallway, and that's just about fine for the time being.

But then Rick looks like he's about to say something more - opens his mouth as if to speak - and Daryl can't help but lash out as a result of it. "Get out," he hisses; his blue eyes absolutely blazing as he stares the other man down. His order seems to have rendered the sheriff speechless, and for that, Daryl is actually pleased.

This time, it's Carol's voice that breaks him out of his thoughts - her voice, much softer than Rick's and yet stronger at the same time, calling out his name. The tone that she's using is the one that, under different circumstances, tends to calm him down - but right now, it just makes him even more angry. Daryl's eyes snap to hers, and he frowns heavily in her direction; showing more emotion with the woman who he considers to be one of his best friends than he did to the sheriff, knowing that she can read him much better than Rick can.

"Fuck you," Daryl says to her, the pair of them looking directly at one another as he speaks.

And it's funny in a completely unfunny way, because once upon a time - hell, a time that wasn't even all that long ago - Carol was weak and scared and easy to back down. But she ain't like that any more. She's changed, and she's stronger for it - perhaps not quite as strong as Daryl knows that she could be if she had to be, but strong all the same - and she's brave enough right now to challenge his intense stare.

"Why'd you even let him in here, huh?" Daryl pushes, relaxing his shoulders ever so slightly as he questions her, knowing that she's not actually going to answer him. Not when his hands are trembling and his words are nasty and his breathing is uneven. "You fuckin' stupid or somethin'? You want him dead?"

The only part of Carol's generally calm and relaxed facial expression that changes is her lips, and she purses them as she looks right back at him, seemingly unphased by his aggressive demeanour. "You need to calm down," the older woman tells him, her eyebrows arching slightly as she looks him up and down in a way that is almost judgemental, and yet isn't at the same time.

Still - it pisses him off even more.

Shaking his head from side to side, Daryl actually lets a chuckle escape from his lips. "Me?" he asks, sarcasm laced in his voice alongside the faint laughter. "I need to calm down? An' jus' how the hell did you figure that? You're the one who was actually gonna let him in there. You were gonna -"

Up until now, Daryl has only been torn away from his thoughts and his speech by the sound of his name being spoken; and this time is no different, either. However, it is different by the way that it is the sound of her voice - her small, soft and tired voice; her gentle and confused and concerned voice - that stops him dead in his tracks halfway through his bitter rant.

There's still something about the way that his name sounds when it falls from Beth's tongue that doesn't really sit well with Daryl. It's not as though it necessarily sounds bad - hell, it probably sounds better than it ever has done before in his entire life - but it makes him feel uneasy nonetheless.

At the sound of her voice calling his name, the tension disappears from Daryl's body almost immediately, and the angry words that had formed in his mind and had been ready to fall from his tongue so freely just seconds before have evaporated into the air now, and the biker knows for a fact that he wouldn't be able to recall them; not even if he tried. Instead of thinking too much about what he had been saying to Rick (and simultaneously pushing away all of the things that Beth could have possibly heard him saying), Daryl focuses his attention on where Beth is standing almost too close to him in the doorway of the bedroom.

(The bedroom that is technically his, but may as well be hers now.)

It takes him a few seconds to realise that there's a frown on her pretty face as her big blue eyes dance over him, and Daryl swallows down the lump in his throat that has gathered since he laid his eyes upon her. As her light eyes narrow and trail over his shoulder so that she's looking at Rick and Carol, Daryl chooses to take in her form; and his ears burn red when he realises that she's still wearing one of his plain tee-shirts -

- and christ, that's all that she's wearing, too.

In all fairness, Daryl thinks to himself that the bruises that are littered across her fair skin are beginning to fade impressively, and he's glad to note that she's healing. There are still some that are quite severe, but the majority of the marks are more shades of yellow and green as opposed to purple and black. The scars on her face - one on her cheek, another on her forehead - are evidently nowhere near healed, but they look much better now, too, and he tries to see it as a positive thing; tries to see it all as a good sign.

(And he tries his hardest not to think too much about the men that marked her in this cruel way in the first place; tries not to bother himself too much about the things that he is going to do to them to make sure that they pay for even considering hurting her, never mind actually doing it.)

"Is everything okay?"

It's her voice that once again brings Daryl back to the real world; and as her questioning tone pulls him out of the depths of his muddled mind, the biker notices that Beth's eyes are now locked firmly on his own as opposed to still glancing past his broad body. Behind him, both Rick and Carol are silent - which makes a pleasant change, Daryl supposes - and he almost forgets that either of them are even still there as he jerkily nods his head in response to Beth's question.

"Yeah," he says, his voice hoarse as a result of the yelling just a few minutes prior, but his tone gentle all the same. He's so close to her in the entryway of the bedroom that all he would have to do is stretch out his arm so that he could cup her heart shaped face in one of his hands, and whilst he thinks to himself that Beth would respond kindly to his touch - she's yet to shy away from him, anyway - there's still something inside of him that won't allow it. "S'fine. Everything's fine."

His words probably aren't reassuring whatsoever, and Daryl can most definitely tell by the look on her pretty face that the blonde doesn't really believe him at all, but Beth doesn't push the matter any further. Instead, she chooses to spare another quick and sceptical look over his shoulder at Rick and Carol before she slowly backs away, her narrowed eyes returning to meet with his own as she moves to close the bedroom door.

And then the words fall from his lips before he can even think about them, never mind actually stop them.

"I'll be back in in a minute," Daryl says to her, his voice still soft as his deep blue eyes stay on her own. If Beth is surprised at his words, she doesn't show it at all; in fact, she looks completely at ease as she softly nods her own head before stepping further back inside of the bedroom, closing the door to it behind her.

Daryl finds himself staring at the wood of the door for a good few seconds before he finally turns his head over his shoulder, wasting no time to glare straight over at Rick. He may have forgotten what it was that he had been saying to the sheriff, but Daryl still knows that he's angry at the man for coming here like this - and he's pretty angry at Carol, too, for letting him inside the apartment in the first place - and he isn't going to pretend that Beth has enough power over him to calm him down completely.

That's a choice that he has to make on his own, and right now, it's not something that he's prepared to consider.

The surprising thing about Merle Dixon is that despite everything there is to say otherwise - for example, being the president of a biker gang, selling illegal weapons, and - the kicker for Daryl at the minute - having a rape charge against him - he is actually a nice guy.

Sometimes.

Well - sort of.

In his own dysfunctional and fucked-up way, anyway.

It's not something that Daryl really remembers very often - with good reason, in all fairness, because the majority of the time; Merle Dixon is a selfish asshole. But in his defence, there are the odd few times when it does come to mind that Merle is actually a good guy when he wants to be, and as the two brothers straddle their bikes and sit side-by-side in the middle of the parking lot of the garage that they own, Daryl is reminded of that.

"How is she?" Merle asks as he lights up a cigarette, and Daryl is honest to god so surprised that Merle has actually even remembered anything at all about Beth and the injuries that she sustained as a result of The Governor that he can't find any words to answer him, and instead he just ends up blinking directly at his older brother, his brows furrowed and lips parted in a manner that is somewhat gormless.

Of course Daryl knew that it was Beth who his older brother was talking about, but Merle obviously doesn't quite realise the actual reason as to why Daryl is looking so dumbfounded in that moment, and instead he mistakes his younger sibling's surprise as confusion. The older of the two lets out an arrogant snort before he begins to suck on his cigarette, and once he has taken a drag of it, he unnecessarily elaborates.

"The girl," the bald headed man says, a smirk on his face as he speaks. Merle tilts his chin as he exhales the thick smoke from his mouth, his bright blue eyes following it as it disappears into the air. "How's she doin'? Holdin' up okay?"

As the initial shock of Merle thinking about anyone but himself begins to wear off, it takes Daryl a few seconds to compose himself fully, and then he is quickly nodding his head in recognition of his brother's question. Some stuttered, messy explanation of her physical state glides out of his mouth without him really meaning for it too - something along the lines of she's doin' good and those bastards got her pretty bad and Carol says that she's gonna be alright, just gotta let her heal - but if Merle picks up on Daryl's nervousness, then he doesn't mention it.

Nodding his head, Merle breathes in another long drag of his cigarette before he speaks up again; and Daryl's broad shoulders almost sag in relief at the realisation that his older brother has changed the subject matter of their conversation.

"Gotta go down to the station tomorrow," Merle says, inhaling more of the cigarette as Daryl cocks his head and narrows his eyes. The younger of the two doesn't need to say anything for Merle to know what he's silently asking him. "Need to try an' smoothen' out some o' this shit with Candy," he says, shaking his head as he speaks; and his tone is so casual and light - as though they're talking about the god-damned weather, not some crazy bitch who set up a rape charge against him in an attempt to weasel some money out of the club - that Daryl almost chuckles.

"You reckon it'll blow over?" Daryl asks, unable to keep the frown from his face.

That's another thing about Merle, though (one that's not quite as easy to forget, in all fairness): he is incredibly overconfident. It's almost to the point where his arrogance and his smug attitude is damned near dangerous; and whilst Daryl is quite the opposite of his brother - definitely more of a quiet introvert - he is especially glad that he doesn't have Merle's overwhelming sense of self-importance.

Daryl's older brother has always figured that he's been untouchable, and whilst that attitude has worked for him just fine so far, Daryl isn't stupid enough to believe that it will allow Merle to coast his way through the rest of his life with such ease and simplicity.

So Merle laughs as he stomps out his cigarette onto the grey concrete floor of the parking lot, shaking his head from side to side as he does so.

"Baby bro," he coos, flashing his teeth in a wolfish grin as he looks back up at Daryl. "When the hell don't it?"

It's late when Daryl finally stumbles back into his apartment - gone midnight, at the earliest - and despite the fact that he is absolutely exhausted, he still makes sure that he checks all of the windows and then the front door again to make sure that everywhere is locked up tightly before he makes his way towards the bedroom to check up on Beth.

There's a part of him that feels a little bit guilty for leaving her today, but she had seemed so much better earlier on - clearly she was able to move around much better on her own now, and her skin had cleared up an impressive amount - and Daryl had honestly not thought that he would have been out of the apartment for as long as he was. After he had practically shoved Rick out of the door (with Carol quickly following his lead before Daryl could even spare another glance in her direction), the biker had kept true to his word and had re-entered his bedroom, only to find that Beth had collapsed underneath the sheets once again.

He had felt so strange, hovering over the edge of the bed as he watched her sleep; and yet he had felt so calm and natural at the same time, too - to the point where this time, he couldn't help himself but to reach out a hand and cup her face, allowing his thumb to ever so gently trail over the marred skin of her cheek. A soft sigh had escaped her lips at his tenderness and the blonde had nuzzled herself further into his large hand as if giving him the permission that he needed to touch her more freely, more confidently; but the unconscious movement had been enough to freak Daryl out and cause him to back away from her quickly.

As he slowly pushes open the bedroom door - wincing inadvertently as it groans in protest - he can't help but be a little bit taken aback to find that the room has been emerged into darkness. There had been a large part of Daryl that had been expecting for Beth to still be awake, to be waiting up for him. He had been expecting her to be furious about the fact that he had left her earlier on after telling her that he would come back inside the bedroom, for her to unleash her anger out on him as a result of his own actions.

But instead, he finds her to be sprawled out in the middle of his large bed with her long, recently brushed hair fanned out around her on all of his pillows; and Daryl is incredibly thankful for the moonlight that is creeping through the small cracks in the curtains so that he can see the outline of her form much clearer than he would do without its presence.

And god, she really is the most glorious thing that he has ever looked at in his whole life, and even with her scars and her bruises and her cut lip and her sweaty tee-shirt (or his sweaty tee shirt, more like), Daryl knows that he'll never come across anything as beautiful as her ever again.

It is almost impossible to resist the magnetic pull that she has upon his body - the body that he has always been so in control of, the body that he has never had to fight against just to keep his sanity - and Daryl sits down on the mattress beside her as gently as he can, trying his best not to allow the dip that his weight creates in it to disturb her sleeping form. The darkness that blankets them once again encourages Daryl to be brave, and he doesn't even try to fight the temptation to reach out one of his arms towards her; cupping her cheek in his large hand once again.

This time, the sigh that escapes her lips as a result of his touch seems to be much more present; but Daryl is so caught up in the feeling of her soft, warm skin underneath his callous hand that he doesn't really register it, and he allows his thumb to trail over her scar once again - back and forth, back and forth - practically caressing it as he stares down at her face. The girl is practically perfection, even like this - especially like this - and an overwhelming sense of possessiveness bubbles up within his chest as he takes in all of her pretty features.

The biker doesn't even have time to blink his eyes once before Beth's own are wide open and staring straight up at him, and the realisation of that fact has Daryl stiffening completely. His hand is still cupping her face, yes; but he has stilled in his movements of stroking her cheek with his thumb, and the man looks very much like a deer caught in headlights as he looks directly back down at her, deep blue eyes wider than usual and his breath caught in his throat.

Caught.

Hell, she really has caught him red-handed; but Beth doesn't seem t be too displeased at all about the fact that he has been touching her.

In fact, Daryl realises that she's actually smiling up at him now; not just looking. Her lips are curved upwards in a gesture that is both soft and gentle, and even though he doesn't visibly relax, his heart stops thundering so loudly in his chest as he realises that this is something that she might actually be enjoying. The look that she has on her face isn't quite as bold as a grin - in fact, it's something much calmer, much more serene; and it draws him in like a moth to a flame.

She has that effect on a man, Beth Greene, and Daryl ain't exactly one of the best of 'em, so it's not like he's going to stop her.

And to be fair to himself, there is a part of him that does want to fight this burning desire that he has for Beth - a part of him that wants to squash this powerful need to have her close by him, a part of him that wants to just be done with it all completely. It's just so unlike him to feel this way about anyone at all; but Daryl doesn't even know where on earth to begin with it, so he figures that it would be impossible to try and end it, too.

And that's the thing - there's another part of him that doesn't actually want her to be gone from his life. Not at all. A part of him that wants Beth Greene as close to him as she possibly can be; a part of him that doesn't want to shut her out and push her away, not even when he logically knows that the girl would more than likely be much better off without him in her life at all.

There's a part of him that thinks it might be too late for all of that, anyway.

You can't change the past; and she's already here now, lay in his bed, smiling up at him so peacefully. And he doesn't quite hate it.

"Daryl," she says, her voice barely a whisper into the darkness as she slowly blinks up at him; both the speed of her movements and her speech languid, as though she is completely aware of this spell that she has put onto him, as though she doesn't want to move too quickly or push too hard and end up breaking it in the process. The blonde might not know him very well, but she obviously isn't stupid - hell, she's at college studying to be a vet, for christ's sake - and it more than likely doesn't take a genius to figure out that Daryl Dixon can be easily scared off at intimate times such as these.

Whatever it is that she's doing to him is working, and Daryl can practically feel himself being sucked in deeper and deeper; pulled in even closer to her orbit, stuck floating around her forever.

"Mmhmm," he murmurs, absolutely fascinated by the sight of her licking her lips. She's teasing him, he's sure, but it's such a wonderful sight to see that he will happily allow for her to tease him in this manner forever.

The smile on her face broadens ever so slightly, and Beth looks impossibly more beautiful as she continues to stare up at him, her light blue eyes locked tightly onto his own. "Stay with me," she whispers up at him, her eyes practically dancing and shining with hope as they glisten in the pale moonlight. There's something hopeful in her voice that he can sense, and despite the fact that it's more of a question than an order, Beth murmurs out a strong please as she waits for his response.

But by now, he's thought it before and he'll think it again: who is he to refuse her of anything at all?

(There's no touching now as he shuffles beneath the blankets beside her and lies flat on his back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling of the room with half-closed eyes; but the way that Beth knowingly smiled at him as he shuffled in next to her has Daryl feeling as though this girl knows full well what it is that he's thinking - and he'll be damned if that isn't a problem in itself.)

As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you think!