I had the idea for this at work when I was feeling especially emotional. I didn't think I was going to actually manage to write it because I've been so rubbish at that lately but then, um... I did somehow? And this happened! So here it is, lol. (Also it's in third person present and I think most of these ficlets tend to be in third person past tense but idk, it happened and it felt right so yep.)

Exhaustion permeates Beth's every move. She climbs the building stairs one at a time, taking each one as if it's a mountain instead of a tiny little step. She fumbles for her keys, the practiced routine of it failing in the face of her very long, tiring day. Even her attempts to get the key into the slot in the door handle feel like an ordeal. No, it's like the lock is fighting her for some reason, and after a day of everything feeling exactly like that, the door's lack of cooperation feels like an attack.

Eventually though, the apartment door opens with it's usual faint, low creak. Beth turns, shuts the door, and settles her keys on their hook beside it… and when her head lifts to look around her, instead she promptly bursts into tears. She doesn't even fully understand where it comes from, or how it happens. It bubbles up from within her, catching her completely off guard, and she's just standing there right in front of their door; shoulders hunched and shaking, body tense, and tears spilling down her cheeks.

And there Daryl is, right there behind her, without saying a word. There is his firm, careful tread, and then his arms are wrapping around her from behind. She feels the slide of his arms around her waist and the press of his chest against her back, and the deep exhale she gives at his embrace shudders through her whole body. She feels safe, she feels held and comforted, and somehow that only makes something unknot even further within her and the tears spill even more quickly down her cheeks.

He doesn't say a word. Doesn't question, doesn't ask her what's wrong. Even if he had, Beth isn't sure if she can answer. How can she explain that she doesn't even know what's wrong? How can she tell him that it's not one thing in particular but everything about this whole day; from the restless sleep to the early morning, to a horrible day at work where half her coworkers were out and the kids were all fussy and screaming and causing trouble, and the car almost didn't start and the traffic was a mess and how lord, just everything seemed to be working against her until she got home and felt, suddenly, like all she could do was just break down and cry?

But it doesn't matter, because Daryl doesn't ask. All he does is hold her and somehow it is everything she could possibly have needed. It's just his warmth and his nearness and the safety of his embrace and the familiar scent of him all around her. It's his strong arms and his sturdy body anchoring her; steady as the trunk of a tree, it's branches wrapped around her to form a bower and shield her from everything that has been weighing down on her all day.

She shivers in his arms, giving little whimpering cries until she feels his lips press softly to the back of her neck. His lips press warmth into her skin, relaxing her muscles, practically drawing the slower, steadier breathes right into her lungs until the rise and fall of her chest begins to match his, where it presses to her back.

When she finally speaks, unsure if it's minutes later, or somehow hours, her voice is hoarse and ragged and almost a whisper, and all she manages to get out is a plaintive few words. "I d-don't even k-know… w-what's wr-wrong…"

And his arms just wrap a little tighter, as he pulls her back more firmly against him so the curve of her back fits right against her chest. His head tilt so his lips can find her ear, and he whispers, "I know, baby girl. Just one of those days, right? It's okay. I know."

He knows. He does. The relief of that understanding flood her body and she goes a bit limp, but even though she sinks a little in his arms he doesn't flinch one bit. He just cradles her back against his chest and his strong arms keep her steady, anchoring her in the stormy rocking waves of her emotions, until finally the tears that had started to spill once more down her cheeks begin to slow again.

Never once does he let her go. Never once does he ask any questions, let alone say any of the stupid, idiotic things that another man- or heck, even one of her coworkers- might have said if she'd cried in front of them. There's not a single 'what happened', let alone an 'ugh is it that time of the month?' (though it's not) or an 'oh god are you pregnant or something' (though she definitely isn't). There's only I know echoing in the air between them, and I'm here, implicit in his embrace and his warmth and his comforting presence.

Somehow, eventually, she ends up turned around in his arms and lifted; one hand holding her back and the other arm slung beneath her rear as she wraps her legs around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. He carries her as if she weighs nothing, continuing to embrace her through her faint little tired cries as he brings her easily into their tiny, snug bedroom and right into their bed. He doesn't tuck her under the covers but climbs in right after her; not bothering to undress either of them, just slipping into bed and wrapping his arms right back around her again.

If his arms had felt like safe little bower before, then the bed is their grove, and the apartment their small little forest. The sort of place where everything is golden sunlight and warm breezes and nothing would ever dare try to harm he and she is safe, safe, safe. Curled up in their bed under the covers with his arms around her and her face buried in his chest and Scrap curled asleep in a ball of fluff up on the pillow by their heads, Beth feels so safe; so content, so secure, so loved… so close to being okay again.

So as she drifts asleep, exhausted from the long day and the outburst of emotions that had come spilling out of her, she knows that tomorrow will be better. Daryl will make sure of it.

(And even if it somehow isn't, he'll still be there for her. He'll be there to hold her and guide her through it. Just like she would for him. No questions asked.)