A/N: Wooooow, guys.. I feel so terrible about the insanely long wait for this chapter. Life kind of exploded around me, and it has been a long week. Or two? How many days has it been since I've even updated? I don't remember.

I had lots of great reviews after the last chapter, and a couple of new followers/readers. Welcome! I promise I usually update quicker than this. Sorry about the fluke!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 20

Beth felt her heart skip two whole beats as soon as she heard a late night knock on her front door.

Despite having spent all evening acclimating herself to being home alone in her cabin again, convincing herself that she was safe; the simple knock flung her three and a half weeks into the past and destroyed all of her attempts at peace. That fateful night, she had foolishly swung the door wide open without checking, and Zach had nearly ruined her life all over again.

Back in the present, Beth grabbed an iron candle holder from on top of a little table near the window, letting the heavy weight of it calm her nerves and give her strength. Apparently, she should be investing in some sort of baseball bat in the future.

Steeling herself against the paranoia, she crept across the floor and over to her front window, peeking out.

Sitting in her driveway behind her Jeep was a huge black pick-up truck, and Beth exhaled in relief.

It was Daryl.

She moved to the door and swung it open, catching him already midway down her porch steps, headed back to his truck.

He turned when he heard her, and she smiled at the sight of him with her huge white comforter rolled up and tucked under his arm.

"Daryl," she said in greeting, disregarding how enormously silly she must look to be so happy to see him.

Daryl's eyes drifted over her, pausing on the candle holder still gripped in her fist and he asked hesitantly, "Expectin' someone else…?"

"Ah, no…" she said,embarrassed, laughing as she held up her weapon of choice. "It looks like I'm playing a lonely, life-sized version of Clue, doesn't it? 'It was Ms. Greene, in the cabin, with the candlestick.'"

Daryl only frowned at her like she was a little nutty.

"I'm sorry; I'm kind of rambling, not making any sense. I'm coming down from a panic attack, is all. Forget what I said; let's start over. Did you actually drive all the way over here to bring me my comforter?"

Ignoring her attempt at a conversation reboot, Daryl asked, "I scared ya?"

"Well, not you," Beth explained. "The night Zach found me, he'd just walked up and knocked on my door. Since it was kind of late, I'd been worried that it was Carol and something had gone wrong with Ed. So, like an idiot, I just swung the door open without checking. The knocking was just… déjà vu, that's all."

Daryl nodded his understanding and shifted his weight awkwardly, still halfway down her steps. "Sorry. I, uh… I woulda called first, but…"

"Still no phone," Beth finished for him, smiling to show her forgiveness.

"I jus' thought you might need this; it's freezin' out," Daryl said, climbing her steps to hold out the comforter for her.

Beth felt tears burning the backs of her eyes; probably just after effects of her nerves subsiding. "That's so thoughtful of you," she whispered, smiling as she gathered it in her arms.

She backed up, opening her door wider. "Will you come in for a bit?"

"It's late," he said, looking uncomfortable. "You're already 'n pajamas… I think I'm jus' gonna head on home."

"Please?" she asked, recognizing how tiny and pathetic her voice sounded, but there was nothing to be done for it. She wanted him to stay a little bit longer.

Daryl seemed to notice it, as well, because instead of making up more excuses to leave, he conceded and stepped through her door. She kicked it closed behind her and turned the deadbolt.

She felt his warm, calloused fingers brush against her own as he gently pulled the candlestick out of her hand and bounced it, testing the weight. He nodded, and muttered, "Nice an' solid, at least."

"It probably wouldn't have been very practical… just the first thing I grabbed," she admitted, hugging her comforter to her. From being in Daryl's bed for two days, and then his truck, her blanket smelled faintly of engine grease and Daryl; and Beth found herself burying her face against it to breathe in more of the comforting scent.

"We'll getcha a handgun; teach you how t' use it," Daryl said, setting the candleholder down on the end table in her front room.

"…Aren't those illegal to have in Georgia without some sort of a license or permit?" she asked.

Daryl snorted, and his blue eyes glittered mischievously as he looked over at her and responded, "What d'you care? You get drunk an' burn down houses for fun. What's an unauthorized handgun to ya?"

"I had help," Beth pointed out, narrowing her eyes at him; but her angry demeanor was a ruse, and she couldn't help the smile still tangled in her lips.

The corner of Daryl's mouth quirked up before he turned away to look at some of the pictures hung on her walls, saying, "An' anyway, handguns are only illegal t' carry aroun' without a license. You're allowed t'keep 'em at home for protection, though."

Beth had never shot a gun before, but thought that if having one would make her feel safer when she was home alone, then it was worth looking into. "And you'd teach me how not to shoot myself in the foot with it?"

"Hopefully, that wouldn' need teachin'…" he replied, quirking an eyebrow at her. Their conversation was interrupted by Daryl's stomach, which released a truly monstrous growl.

"Are you hungry?" Beth asked rhetorically as she grinned at him.

"Maybe a little," Daryl admitted, laying a hand on his flat stomach. "The police confiscated my bow after I tried usin' it t' rip that fucker's face off, so I haven't been huntin' for fresh game in weeks. I also haven't been t' the grocery store t' shop, an' the last of my food stash was burned t' the ground las' night."

"It sounds to me like I owe you dinner," Beth said. "Lots and lots of dinner."

"You don' owe me nothin'," Daryl told her.

"I owe you everything," she responded somberly, letting her smile drop from her face. The weight of what she said hung in the air, but she meant every ounce of it.

He met her eyes and held them, like he was rarely known to do. She knew that whatever was between them now was different than before; their dynamic was different. What was even more; he was different. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the way he smiled easier. He was more relaxed around her, less guarded, and definitely a little playful.

As though sensing the directions of her thoughts, Daryl looked away from her, severing their eye contact, and shifted nervously. Although he was still a little uneasy around her sometimes, Beth could tell that they'd made progress. He had even gotten more comfortable with her touching him, which surprised her a little each time it happened.

Reaching out, just to prove the point to herself, she took his rough, calloused hand into her own, and pulled him toward the kitchen. He followed her without a word, and when she felt the pressure of his fingers wrap around hers, her heartbeat became erratic in her elation.

An hour later, Beth wasn't sure if her previous promise to cook him the best meal he'd ever had was entirely accurate since she hadn't planned out a nicer meal or had a ton of provisions on hand, but Daryl had at least certainly devoured two helpings of the manicotti she'd whipped up for them. Since she still only had the one chair, and a table full of flowers that she couldn't find room for, they ate sitting on the couch in her living room.

She hardly ever watched television as it was; the news was always too depressing or fear-mongering for her tastes, and anything else didn't quite hold her attention; she preferred reading or being out of doors. So it was only natural that, as they sat down to eat, she hadn't bothered to turn it on.

Halfway through their quiet meal, Beth had asked Daryl if he preferred it on, only to discover that he didn't watch television, either. His excuse was probably more due to not having the funds for any decent channels, or a working television set, but Beth considered it something they had in common, regardless of the reasoning for it.

Spurred on by that little tidbit, Beth had mustered up the courage to politely grill Daryl about other aspects of himself; foods he liked and hated, places he'd been, childhood memories. She tried her best to stick to topics that were light and comfortable; nothing that would throw him into the deep-end of opening up to her about anything serious. However, many of his answers were kind of depressing; he didn't have a favorite color, he wasn't real big on eating out or trying new foods, he didn't really read a lot, he'd never been on a vacation or even stepped foot outside of Georgia, and he had to really rack his brains for a halfway decent childhood memory to share with her.

Meanwhile, she held back a little bit from talking too much about all of the places she'd been, the books she loved, or the foods she'd tried. However, Daryl had never had manicotti before she'd made it for him, and he'd had no problem diving right into the meal; maybe one weekend, she'd convince him to accompany her to Atlanta and they'd pick somewhere new and different to eat for something fun to do.

After they were done, she walked their plates over to the sink and rinsed them. Then she stored the leftovers in a plastic container and put it in the fridge, already plotting to make Daryl take it with him when he left.

He stood up as she closed the fridge, stretching his limbs. The clock in her kitchen reflected that it was nearing midnight. Daryl would have to be up for work in a matter of hours.

"I'd better be goin'," he said, grabbing his discarded jacket off of the back of the couch. "Dinner was really good, though… Thank you."

"You're welcome, any time," she told him. "Are you sure you want to drive all the way home, though? By the time you get there, it will be even later, and you don't even have a phone. What if you break down or something?"

Daryl smirked a little as he zipped up, "well, I'm a mechanic, so I guess if I break down, I'll hafta fix it."

She smiled a little at his assessment; she supposed she was being kind of silly. It's not like someone would kidnap him if he broke down on the way home, and his truck was probably in pretty good working order, considering his profession.

"Still, you're welcome to stay here for the night," she offered.

"Nah," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You don' need me crashin' on your couch an' takin' up space. I'm sure you don' wan' some guy sleepin' under your roof with you all the time, neither. I'll be a'right drivin' home."

"You're not some guy," she corrected. "You're Daryl. Honestly, you make me feel safe when you're close by. Having you stay the night is really no problem; in fact, it's more of a favor to me," she added, laughing a bit.

"You sure it ain't weird?" he asked.

"Positive," she said, beaming at him. She'd worn him down, yet again. He was caving into her will easier and easier as the days wore on. Beth loved that she had managed to soften him up to her. She'd known since she met him that under his rough exterior was a big heart; still, it was nice to have her suspicions confirmed.

She'd tried to pull out the hide-a-bed and put fresh linens on it for him, but stubborn Daryl insisted that her couch was comfortable enough as-is and that he didn't need a big to-do with the sheets. She finally gave in to him, since she'd suspected that Daryl staying overnight had less to do with being tired and more to do with helping her sleep better. They finally compromised by having him sleep on the couch with a pillow and two blankets.

Before Beth settled herself into bed for the night, she brought her alarm clock out into the living room for him so that he wouldn't be running late for work the next day. She bid him goodnight and kissed him on his stubbly cheek before going into her room and flipping off the light. She lay awake for a good thirty minutes, tossing and turning in her bed; antsy knowing Daryl was just in the next room. Before too long, though, she could hear his light snoring through her open doorway, and the sound was just what she needed to drift peacefully into sleep.

That night, she dreamt of nothing and no one, and it was amazing.

The next morning, when the alarm clock in the next room went off at the crack of dawn, Beth got up, threw on a robe, and walked into the kitchen to make some coffee and toast. Daryl was up pretty quickly, obviously not being one to lie around and waste time. Without anything to do to get ready, since he still had to go back to his apartment and do his morning routine, Daryl was ready to go whenever the coffee finished. Beth gave him the manicotti leftovers to take with him, and smiled when he gladly took her offering. He was definitely into Italian food, she noted.

After he left that morning, Beth spent the rest of the day cleaning her cabin and resuming her job hunt. She was determined to stick it out there and reclaim the happy-go-lucky independence that she'd achieved a few months ago upon moving in.

A week had gone by, and she hadn't seen Daryl since that night; however, he had gone out that same day and gotten a new cell phone. He used it to call her around 9 p.m. every evening, just to check in. Some nights, he didn't have much of anything to say, in his usual Daryl fashion. Other nights, though, he felt comfortable mentioning things about work or sharing a funny story about one of the guys. In only a matter of days, the routine felt like it had always been there, and Beth felt both excited and comforted knowing that she could count on his nightly phone call.

Tonight, though, she had another thing to be elated about; it was Thursday, and she was finally going to go hang out with the girls again. She knew Daryl probably wasn't the texting type, but she didn't want to call him in case he was working late again, so she sent him a quick text to let him know that she was going to be at Sasha's that evening. As she figured, she didn't receive a return text.

Beth felt so good about being able to get back out of the cabin and unwind that she took the opportunity to pamper herself more than she had lately; she began getting ready hours before she had to leave, soaking in a bubble bath while blaring some of her favorite songs. Afterward, she straightened her hair, dabbed on a little make-up, and then pulled on a soft chenille sweater with a pair of jeans and boots. The weather was nice and cold; winter had definitely settled in for good.

As Beth was leaving her cabin, she felt little crystals of ice pelting her exposed face, and was thankful that Sasha had offered to let anyone stay the night in case the weather got too bad. Lori lived only a couple of blocks from Sasha, so she wouldn't need to stay over, but Beth would certainly not be taking on the icy roads back home if it came to that. She shifted her overnight bag onto her other shoulder as she unlocked her Jeep and climbed in.

By the time she'd gotten over to Sasha's, the ice was coming down steadily, and the roads had already gotten dangerously slick and shiny. Her thoughts shifted briefly to Daryl, as they were bound to do a couple hundred times a day lately, and she was thankful that his new apartment was close to the shop, even if it meant he didn't live near her anymore.

She dialed his new number and waited; the fluttering in her stomach increased with each ring, until he finally answered.

"Sorry to bother you," she said. "Are you still working?"

"Jus' got home, actually," he told her. "I was jus' 'bout t' call you. Still goin' over to Sasha's tonight? The weather's s'pposed t' get pretty bad."

"I beat it; I'm in her driveway already. She said I could crash here tonight, so I won't have to worry about driving home in it. I wanted to make sure you got home safe, though."

She heard Daryl chuckle under his breath. "It'd take more than a little ice to do in a Dixon," he said.

Beth smiled at the sound of his voice, remembering his stint in the river. He was probably right. "Well, I'm glad to hear you're home safe, anyhow," she said.

He grunted in acknowledgement and then told her, "Call if you need somethin'."

"Alright," she answered. "Thanks, Daryl. Have a good night."

"You too."

After the call disconnected, Beth braced herself for the cold and then jumped out of her Jeep and sprinted for the door. Even Sasha's walkway was a little slippery already, and she almost lost her footing.

She'd barely rung the bell before the door flew open and Sasha yanked her inside.

"I'm so glad you came!" Sasha exclaimed, pulling Beth in for a crushing hug. Then she leaned back and eyed her, asking, "You're planning on staying the night, ain'tcha?"

Smiling, Beth patted the duffel bag slung over one shoulder. "Absolutely," she said.

As the storm raged on, the girls drank Sangria slushies and played cards, laughing as they won and lost small sums of money to each other. The game they taught Beth was complicated, involving a large felt mat in the center of the table, betting on new or used card hands, a round of poker, and then running the cards until they hit dead ends; getting pots of chips based on whether they could lay down high hearts in their hands. The person to go out won the kitty, and then the next round began all over again. The game took a couple of hands for Beth to grasp onto, but once she did, there was no turning back. This was her game.

Halfway through the night, as they were all anteing up for the next round, one of the cell phones in the kitchen began to ring. Lori came back in holding the ringing phone, handing it over to its owner, Carol.

"It's Ed," she said softly. "I'd better take this."

Carol stood from the table and walked down the hallway and into the bathroom, talking consolingly to her jerk of a husband.

Beth frowned at the thought that he was calling at all; interrupting their nice evening. He'd better have a good reason.

Since it was Sasha's turn to deal, she worked to shuffle the deck accordingly, and then began passing out cards to everyone in a clockwise rotation, dealing two hands to herself, as the rules dictated. As Lori came back from the kitchen with glasses of water, they all heard a surprising raise in Carol's voice.

"Don't you dare, Ed!" she said, coming out through the bathroom door. Based on the tone of her voice, whatever was going on wasn't good. Sasha paused her dealing and Beth stood from her chair to go to Carol. The older woman already had streaks of tears down her cheeks.

"Now, Ed, you know I wasn't raisin' my voice to you, it's just… it's late, and it's icy out on the roads. That's why I was goin' to stay at Sasha's house tonight, remember?"

Beth could feel her temper rising; Ed was such a jerk. He was apparently mad that Carol was staying the night, even though Beth knew Carol was the type of person who would have been considerate enough to tell him about her plans beforehand. He was just being a jerk after the fact. Beth was not about to let Carol drive home in that mess, whether he liked it or not. She and Lori shot ominous looks at each other. If anyone liked Ed even less than Beth did, it would have to be Lori.

"Ed, you leave her alone, she's sleeping. It's late! What are you doing?" Carol frowned and more tears streaked down her face. "You're drunk, Ed. You're drunk and the roads aren't safe; don't you dare leave the house with our child…"

Carol's face took on a frightened expression and she shouted, "Ed! No!"

She looked straight at Lori and frantically said, "Ed's dragging Sophia into the car! He's drunk; he shouldn't be driving! Call the station; he needs to be pulled over!"

At Carol's exclamation, Beth could hear Ed's voice get impossibly loud on the other end of the receiver, although she could barely make out what he was shouting.

"Ed," Carol said, pleading into the phone, "please don't do this, honey. I'll come home, okay? I'll come home right now; you just drive back home and let Sophia climb back into her bed, alright?"

Carol moved to grab for her keys and jacket, but Beth put a hand on her forearm. It wasn't safe out there at all.

"I haven't left you," Carol said, clearly attempting to placate an outraged Ed. "I promise, I was just at Sasha's, right where I said I would be. I'm comin' home right now, alright? Please just turn around and… Ed? Ed!"

She looked at the phone and then put it back to her ear, "Ed?!"

Finally, she swung around and grabbed Beth's arm. "Oh God, Beth… I think they were just in an accident!"