Author's Note: It's festival season – and that means vacation! Hammocks, bare feet and tenting weather; perfect oasis for some catch up writing sessions. Not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I'm rolling with it.

Paint the Silence

Chapter Twenty One

Daryl had to admit, even if they were all basically living on top of each other, having the extra set of hands was appreciated.

He spent longer days outside, fishing, checking and rigging the pot without feeling like he should be helping inside the blistering little lighthouse with Beth. He got a lot more done, too, and caught a lot more to be canned. No one had discussed winter as of yet, but he was beginning to feel that maybe Maggie was itching to return to Hilltop.

Either way, to both him and Beth, the summer was a time where they prepared themselves for the changing seasons. Last year they had gone through quite a few nights with hungry bellies, and this year they were determined to better themselves.

This year Beth had added a whole new section to the garden, and the day the grain stocks started to poke through would be a day he would never forget. Beth had been ecstatic, almost tripping over herself to throw her arms around his neck in excitement.

He'd clung to her waist as she flung herself at him, where he had been standing in the water with the breakfast dishes, and they had both gone down with a splash. Daryl hadn't even cared that the dishes were slowly floating away as she pulled him in for a long, salty kiss.

He wasn't even embarrassed when he heard Maggie laugh from the lighthouse, the island a giant sandbox for the baby who raced around in his cloth diapers for most of the day. He'd only deepened the kiss before dunking both their heads.

And if Maggie didn't like the idea of Daryl Dixon with her baby sister, she certainly didn't show it. He had been apprehensive about showing any sort of affection, choosing to sleep on the bench in the tower, but Beth had put an end to that only a week after Maggie had been here.

"Daryl Dixon, if you don't come to bed tonight I'm not making fishcakes tomorrow."

It was always the damn fishcakes.

In the beginning he'd crawl into bed when Maggie was sound asleep on the couch, careful to wake and get his day started before she woke. He was paralyzed at the thought that some morning she would wake up and realize the redneck trash her sister had been keeping with this whole time.

But it never came.

In fact, Maggie openly accepted him – which made Daryl feel all sorts of awkward. She'd squeeze his shoulder during Grace over their meals, she would shoo little Junior outside with him in the afternoons when the little lighthouse would be too hot for the boy to stand the heat and the woodstove roaring. She would include him in the conversations he walked in on – but one day their conversation had taken a turn that Daryl would never have imagined.

"Daddy would've been proud." She had stated, while he had been leaning over the pot, throwing the measly lobster he had managed to wrangle that day in his game bag. She'd caught him by surprise, sitting softly in the sand beside him as they glanced at Beth who was wiggling a feather for both Junior and the cat. "Taking care of Bethy, making her happy."

Daryl had snorted. "Doubt that."

Maggie was silent for a moment, watching him as he dug into the bucket of chum – that was just the remains of the filleted fish – and set it in the trap as bait. She watched him work, before assisting him in throwing it back out as far as their arms would allow.

"When are you going to give yourself a break?" Maggie asked in all seriousness, wading into the water with him even though she didn't have fish guts to wash off. "Look at everything you two have."

Daryl only glanced at her, continuing to wash his arms and hands off. He was put off by Maggie, not fully understanding where this conversation had come from, or where it was going. "Got lucky, s'all."

He wasn't expecting the small splash of water that hit his face. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. My sister sees it, and so do I."

She left him then, confused and uncomfortable.

…

Summer was coming to an end, and the last few weeks had been consumed with completing their canning before they moved on to the wheat, sending it through the coffee grinder and sifter before storing it in the big container that still had a cheese puff logo on the front.

Beth made sure to take special care in gathering and storing away seeds for next season, while he continued to catch as much shellfish as he could manage. It was one of their favorites, and he was content with making a few extra trips to shore for a good hunt without worrying.

Junior was growing – he was toddling around the island most days now, making best of friends with the cat who had become pretty near attached to the little boy who was extremely gentle with the creature, despite his age. Junior would pet the cat for hours, and the cat would lazily accept the pets, rolling over and giving the toddler access much to his delight.

It was when they were all eating a feast of turkey with most of the fixings did Maggie mention returning to Hilltop.

He had caught the bird on a whim – he'd only been on shore to collect some more wood when the wild turkey had flailed and scared the living shit out of him. He had plucked it when he returned to the island, putting it in the only roasting pan Beth had, the legs overflowing and charred but they hadn't complained.

Beth had gave him a wide smile when he had presented the prepared bird to her – where she chopped up green onion, chives and other dried spices she had collected to go over it. Maggie had plucked fresh potatoes and carrots from the garden, boiling them down and making mash.

Hell, Beth even made gravy with the juices leftover and a little bit of the flour they had made – a feast of sorts, and maybe that's why Maggie had decided to bring it up.

Daryl didn't miss the sad look that passed through Beth's face.

"Oh Maggie, we have more than enough. You don't have to leave." Beth reassured, completely detesting the idea of her sister leaving. They had become closer than maybe they had ever been this summer, and definitely more productive together than apart. She loved having her sister and nephew here, maybe more than she had realized at the mention of them departing.

Maggie shook her head. "I know, Beth. I wish we could stay, but I have to help Hilltop get ready for winter too."

Beth had nodded at that, understanding and willing herself not to be selfish. Her sister ran a community elsewhere and had already stayed far longer than she had been anticipating. Their visit turned into a two month visit, and she pushed herself to be thankful instead of greedy.

"Next summer?" Beth asked, smiling sadly at Junior who animatedly smashed food into his mouth, smiling and giggling as the cat gobbled up what was dropped.

"Definitely." Maggie agreed.

…

There was no misfires when the hill ended and they were at the gates of Hilltop this time around, and there was immediate excitement as people laid eyes on their leader. Daryl felt like some sort of fucked up hero, as everyone patted him on the back for Maggie's safe return.

And then Maggie had surprised the hell out of him, after she had hugged countless people who came to her with open arms, handing off the baby to a young girl who she had called Enid, of who he hadn't missed Carl had been holding hands with.

She'd pulled him into her room – the grandest room in the place, with the king bed and the tall wooden posts. He felt extremely awkward as she shut the door behind him, immediately going to the dresser that was off to one side. He twisted his hands, wringing his knuckles, unsure what was going on.

She had only taken a second before she had produced what she had been looking for, catching his eye and not letting him look elsewhere.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough." Maggie began, and he noticeably began to rock uncomfortably on his feet.

"Kept herself safe." Daryl interrupted, annoyed with how everyone overlooked Beth's own strength. How did people not see that she kept him safe, too? And he had to push away the panic he felt rising in his throat, with the thought that Beth was alone on the island. She was tough but her arm was shit.

Maggie smiled at that – a real smile. "I know."

Daryl once again retreated within himself, watching with intent eyes as Maggie mulled something over, her own demons running wild. It felt like time was slowing; that maybe it stopped all together as Maggie finally lifted her watery eyes to his. Her hallow face showing just how much this dead world had taken.

He physically jumped when Maggie laughed – a strained affair.

"He took it off a walker, hardly romantic." She shook her head, her face turning into a smile despite the tears that pooled. Her breathe was shaky as she clutched her hand tightly to her chest. "It's too hard to wear it now – too hard to remember what should've been. I know he'd want this."

Daryl adverted his eyes to his boots, his fists clenching uncomfortably at the thought of Glenn's meaningless death. The guilt pricked his skin – maybe he could've done something, but instead he chose Beth and that was something he'd always have to live with. They had lost a lot of people, too many to count even, but the memories of the Korean kid may never leave him.

"Here." Maggie sighed, holding out her hand for him. She held her arm out firmly, not moving an inch as she waited for his palm to outreach. And only when she felt the cool metal slip passed her fingers into his, did she breathe.

Daryl's expression was stricken, as if the metal had scorched his skin.

He faltered, that she could see, and she felt her heart go out to the surely redneck who had changed so much since she had first met him back at the farm. He was still withdrawn and quiet, but it was easy to see that Daryl had a softer side to him if one were to look hard enough. Especially while around her baby sister.

"Give Beth a hug for me, okay?" The tears in her eyes finally leaking passed her lids, long tears leaving marks down her cheek. Her smile broke as she tried to reassure him, and she couldn't help but throw an arm around his shoulders. "And be safe."

Daryl had only nodded, his own throat constricted with emotion.

...

He had refused to take the Range Rover that Maggie had graciously offered him, and the plants were out of the ground and the tub had been drained by the time he had returned, the little piece of metal weighing heavily in his pocket.

As soon as he took in the island, everything perfect and kempt, he fel guilt stab at his chest. He should've been here helping Beth prepare for the changing seasons, instead of the hot meals and showers Hilltop had offered him.

All was forgotten, however, as the door to the tower flew open and the woman in question started to run. He only had a second to brace himself before she was clinging to his neck, her legs circling around his waist in excitement.

"God, this time felt like forever." Beth whispered, pushing her face further into the hollows of his neck and shoulder – and Daryl was greedy. He held on for all he was worth, taking comfort in the smell of her salty skin, the smell of their Irish Spring soap from Hilltop still clinging to her hair.

"Mm," Daryl agreed, his hand running up and down her back when he noticed her sighing response, her arms winding tighter around him. And they stayed like that for a moment, just relishing in the feel of having each other back.

When Beth let her legs drop, he crouched to lift her down. The smile she was giving him made his tired eyes heavy, the comfort of her washing over him like a blanket of warmth. Never had he experienced the feeling of coming home before, but this place right here with Beth's glowing smile, was more than enough for him.

"Cucumber salad, some mash and fried fish. I hope you're hungry," Beth teased as they slowly prepared the dory for next time, tying it to the lighthouse stairs in case they ever experienced high tides. She knew damn well that he was starving, and couldn't help the growl his stomach let out when the aroma of her dished up food wafted out of the open door.

Beth went straight to the stove when they walked in the little lighthouse, the table already set and salad and mash heaped in bowls, while he went directly to the closet. They'd washed his clothes at Hilltop for him, and had even given him some extras for both of them. But he was itching to get out of these week long dirty ones, and planned to dunk himself in the ocean immediately after dinner. Beth would never allow him to crawl into bed like this, walker gunk and all.

Laying out his clothes and towel, he sat at the dinner table, the odd sensation of his lips pulling up into a smile. Beth scooped up large portions of each for him, before making a smaller plate for herself. She sat down, and quickly said Grace.

But this time, when her hand was in his and her head bowed in prayer, he didn't follow her lead. No, he couldn't look anywhere else but her.

TBC

Thoughts?