A/N: You guys are absolutely wonderful! You're support always makes me smile!

Screaming. Someone was screaming.

Beth awoke with a start and looked around in the dark. She was alone in her bedroom, the soft blankets of her bed twisted around her legs, her hands fisted in the sheets next to her. She heard it again - the screaming. An echo of surprise made it's way across her thoughts as she realized it hadn't been her screaming. She'd been dreaming of the Governor as he beat her, with Merle and Gorman looking on, the latter man licking his lips as watched her pain.

She climbed out of bed and threw open her door, the sound of it bouncing off the wall pierced the silence of the dark apartment. She moved quickly down the hallway, towards the living room where she knew Daryl to be. Belatedly it came to her that she should have grabbed some sort of weapon; she wasn't the best fighter, but her lessons with Daryl had given her a small bout of confidence that maybe she could help him if he was in danger.

As she made her way to the living room, she spotted Daryl on the couch. The room was dark, but the moonlight shining through the windows cut across his figure. He was curled up as small as she imagined Daryl could get, his hands clenched in tight fists next to his face. He was making small noises through his clenched teeth; they gradually became louder as she watched him, his mouth finally opening to release a scream that stirred her from the spot where she had frozen. She rushed to his side and leaned over him, grasping both his wrists in an attempt to pull them away from his head.

"Daryl!" she called in a loud whisper. "Daryl, wake up!"

He woke upon hearing her voice, but his eyes remained unfocused. He launched himself off the couch and knocked her to the floor, landing his full weight on top of her. She let out a small shriek of her own, but it was cut off as she hit the ground, her breath effectively knocked out of her.

She gasped as Daryl pinned her beneath him. "Daryl!" she choked out. "Daryl, it's me! It's Beth!"

It was like a light had been switched on in him; his eyes widened and he drew back from her in an instant. He crouched in front of her, his hands out in front of him like he didn't know what to do with them. "Beth?" his voice was quiet as he took her in. "Beth! Fuck!" he looked panicked as he seemed to realize what he had done.

Beth sat up so that she was closer to where he was crouched, prone in front of her. "Daryl," she gasped, still trying to regain her breath. "Are you ok?"

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Me? You're fucking asking me if I'm ok? After I just... Jesus Beth."

"You were screaming, Daryl," she whispered softly.

Daryl looked away. "Was nothin'. Don' worry 'bout it none," he muttered, rising to a stand.

"It wasn't nothin'. Were you dreaming?" she stood to face him, but he continued to refuse to meet her gaze.

"Told you it was nothin' girl," he snapped. "Go back to bed." Daryl turned to make his way back to the couch.

Beth forced herself not to roll her eyes at his back. He obviously wasn't going to budge on this, not tonight. She wanted to help him, any way she could. Even if his stubborn ass wasn't going to accept it.

"Daryl, why don't you come sleep in my room?"

His head whipped around so fast it was almost comical. Beth didn't know where the suggestion had come from. But it was out there now, she couldn't take it back. "With me," she added hastily.

Daryl shook his head, a furrow forming between his brows, and continued to remake his bed on the couch. When he didn't say anything more, Beth stepped towards him and placed her hand on his arm.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Ain' no need," he grumbled as he shook out his blanket and shook off her touch in one motion.

"I need it."

Daryl stopped what he was doing, standing straight-backed without turning to face her. She could see the tension in him, practically vibrating across his shoulders. She had started down this path with the intention of helping him, this man who had carried her out of the Governor's arena, who's voice she had heard above the cheers of the crowd who were calling for her pain. This man had wanted to save her, and in turn she knew that she wanted to save him now. As she rolled these thoughts over in her head, she realized that she wasn't lying to Daryl. She did need him. She needed him to stay close to her. She wanted his protection, yes. More than that though, she wanted his presence. It struck her how close she'd gotten with this man over the last few weeks, stuck with his surly self in their little apartment. However, below all that, he was kind. He made her laugh, and he seemed to care at least a little bit about her. And although she tried to banish the thoughts from her mind and scolded herself for even thinking about it right now, the memory of feeling of his weight on top of her brought a blush to her face in the darkness.

Beth saw him incline his head – a small nod in the darkness, the only acquiescence she was going to get from him tonight.

"Thank you," she murmured. She could live with Daryl believing that her warmth was only for her own sake and not his own. She knew that if Daryl was inclined to do anything for her, for his family, it would be to provide for them. If he believed that she needed him to make sure she was safe throughout the night, then he would be there for her. And maybe, just maybe she could get him to see that he may need her to keep him safe as well.

Daryl grunted and picked up his blanket and pillow from the couch, falling in step behind Beth as she turned to head back to the bedroom. His footsteps echoed in the silent hallway, she took comfort in knowing that he was at her back; he hadn't run away from her.

Beth climbed into her bed, curling up in the spot she'd vacated when she had gone to check on Daryl. Daryl, who was currently looming in her doorway; she could see him shifting his weight back and forth at the threshold to her room.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice sounding too loud in her ears.

"Don' feel right," he grumbled. "Ain't my place ta be in yer room."

This time Beth did roll her eyes. "What? Are you afraid of a girl?" she scoffed at him.

She could hear his sharp intake of breath and could imagine the way he was probably narrowing his eyes at her, all meanness and malice behind his gaze. The darkness made her braver with him, made it feel safe to tease. If she could actually see those hard blue eyes glaring at her, she probably would be inclined to keep her sass to herself.

"Ain' afraid of nothin'," he bit out, and Beth couldn't fight the smirk she felt form on her lips.

She imagined that he must have straightened his shoulders and she heard him take in a deep breath before his heavy footfalls crossed into the bedroom. She heard him walk around to the foot of the bed and pause before saying, "Wan' me ta get a chair from the living room?"

"No," she answered, "I want you to sleep next to me."

"Ain' gonna happen."

"Yes, it is," Beth countered.

"Nope."

"Thought you weren't afraid of me?" she provoked once again.

"Beth...," he protested.

"I still think you're scared of a girl," she replied flatly.

She heard him muttered a string of words under his breath, she caught, "Jesus Christ," and, "God damn it," but he continued walking around the bed. Daryl climbed in to the empty space beside her, laying his large body on top of the blankets. She felt him settle next to her, carefully maintaining the space between them as he formed his pillow the way he wanted it and laid his own blanket out across his legs.

Beth had never lain in bed with a man before – not like this. On the road she'd shared sleeping space with the others, not caring much whether it was Carol or Rick or Maggie that she'd curled up next to. They were never alone, the weight of implication never hanging in the air the way it did in this moment. The quiet stretched between them, and Beth wondered if he could hear the beating of her heart. She could feel it pounding hard against her ribs, and she worried what Daryl would think even as she questioned her own body's response to his closeness.

"Ain' afraid of you." Daryl's voice was quiet and low, but all the earlier sharpness had ebbed away.

"I ain't afraid of you either," Beth answered softly. The newness of his presence in her bedroom allowed her to easily pick up on the shadows of his face in the darkness. He was staring resolutely at the ceiling above him, the hand that rested between them was clenched, toying with the edge of his blanket. He looked pained, and Beth could feel his discomfort radiating off him in palpable waves, and she felt her heart break just a little for this man.

She lifted herself on to her elbow and scooted herself across the space that separated them. Beth leaned in and brought her lips to Daryl's cheek, and whispering, "Goodnight Daryl," before kissing the warm skin of his face. She gave him a half smile, that she was almost sure he could see, and slid back into the space next to him on the bed, curling up on her side and letting her forehead rest lightly on Daryl's shoulder before drifting off to sleep.