A/N: I struggled with this chapter. Not at what to say, but how to convey the emotional turmoil with the actions of the characters; specifically Daryl. I hope it came through as intended. I need to extend a special "thank you" to my fellow writer, Abby (abelinajt) for helping me work through through this. Got any questions about From the Ashes? My inbox on tumblr will be open all day - kitten1618x - Enjoy this beautiful Sunday, friends. Peace, Love and Bethyl ~ Lis
ps: I drew a lot of inspiration from this chapter from Rachel Taylors' "I will light a Fire". It's very Bethyl (Beth to Daryl).
"I will Light a Fire"
by: Rachel Taylor
You may say you're walking all by yourself
Have no one else.
Your life is deadly like a loaded gun, And you're shaking Love.
Don't shiver, Don't give up,
Don't quiver, You're enough.
You will be just fine
Tonight.
Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm
I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.
When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)
I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)
When it's cold outside I will light a fire.
Keep your bright eyes looking up to the sky now. Chin up, be proud.
Walk strong like a soldier onto the Battleground.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Don't shiver, Don't give up,
Don't quiver, You're enough.
You will be just fine Tonight.
Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm
I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.
When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)
I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)
I will light a fire.
You've been at the bottom Only survivin'.
You decide who you are now, I'm with you through everything.
Baby when it's cold outside I will keep you warm Save you from the storm
I will light a Fire and the embers bright Will guide you through the night.
When it's cold outside I will light a fire. (Fire)
I will light a fire. (Fire) I will light a fire. (Fire)
When it's cold outside I will light a fire.
And miss her he did.
Immensely so, as he sat silently beside Tyrese keeping watch. Getting Sasha out of the barn and back into the house had been easier than Daryl had anticipated. With a snort and a seething look, she had gathered up her shit and stalked back to the lodge, ignoring her brothers offer of escorting her. Since then, Tyrese had been relatively quiet. Maybe it was because he knew Daryl wasn't one for idle chit chat, or maybe he was busy battling his own demons. Whatever the reason, Daryl appreciated the silence and used it to sort through his own thoughts.
As the night wore on, the storm intensified, bringing with it thunder and lightening that crackled as it lit up the night sky, illuminating the surrounding forest in a horrifying, yet serene way while the thunder boomed loudly in the distance. Daryl crouched in the hayloft, watching it intently, feeling oddly calm. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the rain. Outdoor cat.
Tyrese swayed beside him, catching himself and muttering his apologies. The man was dead on his feet.
"Guess ya ain't been sleepin' much neither?" Daryl observed.
"Who does these days?" Tyrese answered, rubbing at his face vigorously.
True enough.
"Why don't ya go in an' get some sleep? I've got this," Daryl offered.
"Nah man. I can't leave you-"
"Ain't doin' much good if ya can't keep yer eyes open," Daryl insisted. "Sun'll be up in just a bit. I got this."
"You sure?" Tyrese persisted.
"Get outta here," Daryl nodded. "Best ya check on Sasha anyway."
"Thanks Daryl," Tyrese mumbled, quickly snatching up his rifle and looping his hammer through his belt. "I owe you one."
Daryl stood, grabbing the gas lantern and followed Ty down the ladder that led up to the loft. Securing the barn doors behind him as he made his exit, Daryl slammed the heavy wooden plank back into place to keep the whipping winds from banging them open. Giving it a shake for good measure, he climbed back up the ladder and settled back into his crouching position, chewing the tip of his thumb while he scanned the surrounding area. Everything was quiet tonight. Except the raging storm.
Wanting to be alone and actually being alone were two different things, Daryl realized when time seemed to crawl and then seemingly stop altogether. He was itching to get back to Beth and it seemed downright comical after all he had shared with her today that tonight of all nights they'd be apart. And Daryl was tired. Exhausted, really. Crawling under the covers with Beth and shutting his eyes for a few hours were his immediate intentions as soon as the next watch came to relieve him. Tomorrow would undoubtably come with its new slew of bullshit and problems, but they could wait. They would have to.
Wasn't anything they couldn't handle anyway. Aside from whoever had been snooping around and the incessant rain, the secluded lodge had remained relatively safe. It occurred to Daryl for the second time in his life, that the drifter no longer had the desire to drift. The urge was stronger now than it had been at the funeral home, and especially now that the group was all back together. They where whole again. He wanted to settle. And not just for the winter, as was his first purpose, but indefinitely. Fortify. Build a life, a community, like they had started at the prison. Find survivors, bring them in, build more housing if they had to. Plant some crops and eek out a life. Glenn and Maggie were having a baby. Judith and Carl were comfortable and adjusting well. They had more than enough room, so why couldn't they just stay here? If Abraham and his pipe dream chasing band of merry men wanted to move along, then so be it. Sure, Abe and Rosita were great muscle to have around, but they had managed without them in the past and could do so again if need be.
Something moving in his peripheral vision jolted him from his thoughts. Highly alert now, Daryl squinted, straining his eyesight through the sheets of rain, hoping a well timed flash of lightening would cut him a break. It was moving too fast to be a Walker, he knew that much. Rising and pulling back just enough to keep himself hidden, Daryl peered over the edge of the oversized loft window, catching sight of the hooded figure once more before it ducked behind the side of the barn.
Cursing under his breath, Daryl moved as quickly and quietly as his feet would carry him, rushing to the loft ladder and descending, dropping when he was halfway down, his feet hitting the hay below with a muffled thud. Thankfully he had left the lamp lit, so he could see where he was going, or falling for that matter. Tossing his crossbow on a nearby hay bale, he grabbed the board barring the barn doors and lifted it, propping it gently against the wall to make the minimum amount of sound before reaching for his bow. Stepping on the end, with practiced efficiency, he loaded a bolt, pulling the string taught before moving forward with his crossbow trained ahead of him.
Pushing one of the doors slightly ajar, Daryl peeked outside before squeezing through the opening and in full hunter mode crept to the far side of the barn, intending to sneak up and pounce on his victim. As he rounded the corner, his target came into focus and quick as the lightening flashing in the sky above, Daryl charged, grabbing the intruder by the hood of their jacket and slamming them back hard against the side of the barn, his bolt ready to fly, pointed right in their face. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, his finger twitching on the trigger, Daryl found himself staring down his crossbow into the terrified eyes of the woman he loved.
"B-beth ...?" He stammered her name, unsure if he was hallucinating, but it was indeed her. Soaked to the bone and damn near tears, her chest rose and fell rapidly with her labored breathing.
He knew he should hug her, hold her, fold her in his arms and let her know she was alright but Daryl was trembling himself and it took all the energy he had left just to lower his crossbow.
He had damn near killed her!
Grabbing her none to gently by the hood of her jacket, he led her back to the barn entrance, trying to stifle the rage that was building deep within him. Guiding her through the doors, he gave her a light shove towards the wall. "Stay," he barked the order at her, pointing for emphasis and tossed his crossbow unceremoniously to the ground, as if he were angry with it, too.
Daryl yanked the barn door closed, his muscles straining against the force of the wind, then grabbed up the plank to secure it. Dropping it into place, he took a step back and kicked the door like a petulant child in the midst of a temper tantrum. Beth flinched with every aggressive move he made, stepping back and pressing herself against the barn wall, but she never averted her gaze.
He paced the barn floor, fighting the harsh words that were hanging on the tip of his tongue, so acidic he could taste their bitterness in his mouth. Hot, white seething rage, anger like he had never known, tore through every fiber of his being. "Tha hells wrong wit ya girl?" He finally yelled when he could hold it in no longer. "Ya stupid or somethin'? I coulda killed ya! Almost did!"
Beth remained silent, and for some reason that infuriated Daryl even more. He pushed a shaky hand through his wet hair, only then realizing that his entire body was shaking too. "Shit ain't a game," he cried, kicking the ground at his feet. "Tha hell were ya doin' out there?"
"Looking for you," Beth answered, finding her voice now that the initial shock was beginning to wear off. "The door was locked. I was walking around looking for another way to get -"
"Fer what?" Daryl cut her off, his patience thin as a sheet of paper.
"I - I had a nightmare," Beth stammered. Embarrassed at how foolish it sounded.
"Let's get this straight Greene, ya came creepin' outside in the dark when ya know there's some dick snoopin' 'round, cuz ya had a bad dream?" He spat, mocking her. The question was rhetorical, he really hadn't expected an answer, but her silence unnerved him all the same. "Answer me, dammit!" he yelled, his voice reverberating through the barn rafters.
Embarrassed and hurt, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Beth finally fought back. "Stop yelling at me," she cried, her voice just as loud, echoing his.
"Do ya know how close ya were ta meetin' yer maker? If I hadn't hesitated ...if I'd a'just pulled that trigger ..." Daryl let his sentence drop and shook his head, unable to imagine his life again without Beth Greene. And if he had been the reason for it? That would have killed him. "Do ya know what that woulda done ta me?" Daryl growled, voicing his thoughts.
"But you didn't," Beth shot back.
"I almost did," Daryl said, beginning to pace again, like a caged tiger.
"That doesn't matter Daryl, I'm okay -"
"It does matter!" He screamed, assuredly angrier than he had ever been in his entire life at her callous dismissal of the seriousness of the situation. Clenching his fists at his sides, Daryl fought to regain control of his emotions. His temper flared hotter, like an inferno twisting deep within his gut, it burned him from the inside out, spreading and fighting to claw its way out. He was powerless to contain it as it consumed him. Unable to stop himself, his blinding rage fueling him forward on autopilot, he stomped towards Beth and slammed his fist into the barn wall, just scant inches from her, the force of his blow splintering the wood and bloodying his knuckles.
Beth gasped, cringing slightly, but still did not, or maybe could not, avert her gaze. It was then that Daryl caught a glimpse of himself, reflected in those big blue frightened orbs. He knew this anger. Recognized it, suddenly. He had seen it countless times growing up, usually being at the receiving end of it.
The frightened boy cowering in the corner while his dad whooped him with anything within reach, though usually it was his belt. The clink of the buckle as he unhooked it and slid it free. The whirring sound it made as it picked up speed, that moment of anticipation right before it struck, almost as painful as the lash itself, as it sliced through the air and bit into the tender flesh of his back. The beatings he had endured for being a pussy. For driving his brother away. For killing his mother. It was always his fault.
But Beth wasn't a little boy cowering in the corner. And he was not his father. He'd willingly cut of his arm before ever laying a hand on her.
Daryl shook his head violently, forcing the memories away. As the barn came back into focus, and the fear in her eyes finally registered, he realized he was no better than him ...his father. Screwed in the head. His anger, a twisted family heirloom. The code of his DNA.
Disgusted with what he had done, with how far he had let his anger take him, Daryl took a shaky step back, and then another. Clutching his bloody hand against his chest, he turned suddenly and wretched in the hay, choking on bile until he emptied the contents of his stomach, while Beth looked on in horror.
"Don't," Daryl sobbed, raising his hand up as if to ward her away as Beth took a cautious step toward him. Shame engulfed him, almost as suffocating as the rage, and Daryl doubled over again, dry heaving until he thought the veins in his neck would burst from the pressure. When the spasms in his stomach finally subsided, Daryl straightened himself, swiping at the moisture under his eyes and tried to muster any dignity he had left. If he even deserved that.
Beth took another step forward, ignoring his protests, as she flung herself into his arms and held onto him tightly, as if by sheer will alone she could fix him. Daryl stood like a statue in her embrace, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, blood dripping from his throbbing knuckles. His first instinct was to push her away. He had almost fooled himself into believing he was worthy of her. But how could he be after tonight?
"Don't you dare," she whispered against the front of his shirt, as if she could read his mind and knew exactly what his thoughts were. Her breath was hot in direct contrast to the cold, wet fabric plastered to his skin, and it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.
"I mean it Daryl," her tone became more demanding as she clung to the front of his shirt, bunching the fabric between her fingertips. "Don't go backwards. Not after everything we've been through. I still want this. Us ... I love you ...and I know you love me."
Her words stung. They weren't meant to, but they did. They cut him right to the core, he who was so undeserving of them. Maybe not indefinitely, but for right now - for this moment in time, he simply did not warrant her love or compassion ...and he hated himself for that. It was a constant battle, this push and pull of emotions. The high of rising above the bullshit only to be knocked down again and again. He fought so hard to not live in the shadow of his past, fought to overcome it, fought to forget it. He was always fighting and he was exhausted from the effort. Fight. Battle. Fight. Battle. Daryl was war weary. He fought the dead. He fought the living, but the battle that raged within him was the one that wore him down and chipped away at his soul.
" ...you have to put it away or it kills you ..."
Put it away. Daryl sighed, finally wrapping his arms around her, giving himself over to the love and forgiveness she offered, but hating himself for that, too. Not for the fact that he craved it, but that he needed it ... to feel whole. Daryl Dixon, who never relied on anyone for anything.
But Beth Greene was his light at the end of the tunnel. He needed her, or his world would go dark again, and Daryl wasn't sure he could survive that a second time around. And being the one to snuff out her light? It would have killed him.
"I love you too," he murmured against the golden crown of her hair. To say otherwise would be a blatant lie. Deserving of it or not, it was the truest thing he'd ever felt. Beth Greene was endgame. The only woman he had ever loved in this way, and there would never be another.
"Know I'd never hurt ya, right?" Daryl nearly choked on the words, hating himself more that he had to say them, but feeling it was necessary.
Beth nodded, giving Daryl a mouthful of her hair as she released the death grip on his shirt and wound her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Her hands slid up under his shirt to caress his scars, the constant reminder of who he was, and why. He felt dirty, letting her touch them after what had just transpired and reached behind himself to catch her hands.
"They don't define you, Daryl." Her tone was certain, uncompromising. She kissed him then, pushing herself up on her tippy-toes.
It wasn't her usual passive, gentle affection. Beth's kiss was fierce, forceful even, her tongue overpowering his as she struck her own claim, exploring the inner contours of his mouth. She shook her hands free of his grasp and sent them exploring as well. They traveled up his arms, over his tense shoulders and settled on his hips. As she steadied, he could feel her trembling, her body belying the boldness she tried to convey.
"Touch me," she whispered against his lips.
"I can't," Daryl shook his head, his fear keeping him in check.
"You can," Beth insisted, her hands traveling upwards to cup his face gently in her palms, forcing him to look at her. "I need you," she breathed, brushing her lips against his. "We need this."
"I can't," Daryl repeated, his voice thick with emotion, feeling like he was on the verge of tears.
"Please?" She coaxed him, taking his hand and pulling it between their bodies to rest it on her breast, a satisfied sigh escaping her parted lips upon feeling the weight of his hand on her. "Don't make me beg."
Daryl groaned, his traitorous body responding immediately to her passionate ambush. Of its own volition, his thumb grazed over her nipple, already tight and straining through the wet fabric of his flannel shirt that she was wearing. She was right, he needed this. Needed her. Needed to loose himself in the solace that her body could offer. Needed to be one with the woman he loved. And love her he did, so God damned much it was almost physically painful. He knew he was fighting a losing battle - always fighting, so why bother?
Grasping her chin in his hand, he sought her eyes, his own inquiring, needing permission once more. He had to be sure it was what she really wanted and not just an attempt to make him feel secure.
Her honest blue eyes met his, moist from emotion. "Make love to me," she insisted, as a lone tear slid down her cheek.
With a pained groan Daryl pressed her back against the barn wall, his bleeding knuckles all but forgotten as pushed her sopping wet jacket down her arms, dropping it to the hay at their feet and captured her lips with his own. With his kiss, he unleashed all his pent up emotions, centering them all on his passions, needing to convey what he felt through taste and touch alone, as words had never been his strong suit.
When he finally drug his lips from Beth's, it was by necessity to breathe and that alone. Panting, Daryl's eyes never leaving hers, he tugged the neck of her oversized shirt down, exposing the creamy skin of her throat and shoulder, his mouth literally watering with the need to taste her salty sweet flesh. Beth moaned in anticipation her hands weaving their way into Daryl's wet hair, curling her fingers around it and tugging it gently as she tilted her neck back, granting him full access to devour her. His hands and mouth were everywhere, traveling her heated flesh with exquisite tenderness. Memorizing her every curve, her every hollow ...In her damp tangled hair, her forehead, the tip of her nose, her throat, the curve of her jaw. He was so hard and wanted desperately to be inside of her, but her body was a temple, and he would worship her first.
Dropping to his knees before her, he grabbed the waistband of the ridiculous polka dot pajama paints she wore, and slid them down her hips, only then noticing that she was barefoot. A unexpected pang of guilt hit him in the stomach, that her nightmare was so bad that it drove her out into the stormy night with no shoes to find him. He would ask her about it later, but first he would love her. Her panties followed, as he hooked his thumbs inside them and slowly drug them down her silken legs and tossed them to the side with her ugly pants. Ducking his head, Daryl kissed her pubic bone just above the golden patch of curls, then dipped his head lower, finally tasting her there, where she throbbed and craved him. They moaned in unison, Beth throwing her head back and fisting his hair. She was already wet, her juices flowed hot on his tongue, feeding and fueling his desire, his burning need for her.
Growing bold in the thoroughs passion, Beth untangled one of her hands from Daryl's hair and slid it between them, pushing herself open, parting her petals like a flower and guiding him to her pulsing core. Daryl smirked up at her and obliged, flicking his tongue against the nub before sucking it in between his lips, grabbing Beth's thighs to steady her as she began to rock her hips against his face, working to release her building orgasm.
"Daryl," she breathed, "please God ...stop." Her head lolled from side to side as Beth grunted and groaned and pressed herself harder against his mouth. "No, don't stop ...right there," she panted.
Keeping her tempo, he moved his head lower and pushed his tongue deep inside of her, nearly exploding inside of his pants as she clamped her thighs hard against his face and screamed his name with her release. Daryl savored his victory, sliding his tongue up and down once more before withdrawing it and smacking his lips, as a trembling Beth literally crumbled to the ground in front of him, her legs no longer able to hold her up.
She took only a moment to catch her breath and then shoved his shoulder, knocking him off balance and onto his ass, her anxious hands already attacking his belt buckle, the brush of her fingers causing friction through his pants. His erection was damn near close to painful as it strained against the coarse wet fabric of his jeans, wanting to be free of the cumbersome barrier that soon Daryl was lifting his hips and assisting her, aching for Beth's touch. He sprung to life in her hands, as she curled her fingers around him, then she surprised Daryl by bending down and flicking her tongue against the tip of his shaft. It twitched in her grasp, a reflex, as Daryl sucked in a deep breath, holding it, as Beth explored this newfound power she wielded.
Patiently he watched her, slowly exhaling and leaning back on his elbows as she lowered her head again and slowly drew the tip in her mouth, bobbed back up and flicked her tongue against it once more, eliciting a deep throaty moan from Daryl in response. As her apprehension eased, she grew bolder, taking him further into her mouth and Daryl fought the instinct to buck his hips upwards, not wanting to hurt or frighten her. Reaching forward, he smoothed the hair back from her face, and chuckled at seeing her eyes were closed. Upon hearing him laugh, she froze and then quickly released him, her cheeks staining pink with embarrassment.
"Go on girl, get it. It's yers," Daryl encouraged her, grasping his shaft at the base and gently guiding the tip back to her lips.
Beth kept her eyes open this time, sucking him slowly back into her mouth while holding Daryl's gaze when she realized it turned him on more. Up and down she suckled and licked, perfecting her craft until Daryl stopped her, no longer able to keep his passions in check. Reaching for her arms, he tugged her on top of him, not wanting her to lay in the scratchy hay and entwining their fingers, supported her weight while Beth straddled his thighs, brazenly rubbing her sex against his.
Daryl dropped his head back in the hay and clenched his teeth through a groan. "Go on darlin', ya know what ta do," he encouraged her, Knowing he couldn't hold out much longer against her torturous assault.
That was all the invitation Beth needed, as she rocked her hips forward and slid down his shaft, sheathing him deep within her and joining them as one. Their muffled cries coming in unison as pleasure wreaked havoc on their senses.
Bending his knees, Daryl grasped Beth's hips as she braced her hands on his chest for balance, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt once more while she rode him. He let her set the pace and she wasn't in any hurry, moving her hips slowly against him as she pushed them both achingly closer to their release. When Daryl began to feel her tighten around him, he pushed his hips up into her, meeting her thrust for thrust, increasing the friction so they could come together. He slid his hand up her side, gently cupping the back of her neck and drew her face down to his for a kiss, wanting to be joined in every possible way as they reached completion.
"I love you," Beth whispered against his lips, then moaned into his mouth as their tongues collided and her body jerked, her muscles constricting around him, as she reached and then plunged over the precipice of her orgasm.
"I love yo- ohhhh" Daryl groaned his own release, pushing his hips upward as he came hot and hard, joining her in a state of euphoria. She collapsed upon his chest then, his arms enfolding her as they both slowly came down off of their high and their breathing quieted.
The sound of familiar voices just outside the barn jolted them both into a sitting position. Irritated at the sudden intrusion, Daryl jerked his jeans up over his hips, as Beth scrambled through the hay, finding her pajama bottoms and quickly tugging them on, then stuffing her panties in the pocket of her jacket.
Daryl grabbed up his crossbow, and looked to Beth, who seemed pretty much together except for the flush in her cheeks, and her bare feet. There was nothing he could do about either, so he headed to the barn doors and lifted the plank, just as Glenn and Rick shoved the doors open.
"Bout time," Daryl remarked, trying to remain casual. He fiddled with the strap of his crossbow as Rick and Glenn stepped inside the barn.
"Oh, I don't know," Rick answered, hands on his hips, a smirk plastered on his face. "I'd say our timing was pretty good," he added, leaning forward and plucking a piece of hay from Daryl's hair and pinching it between his fingertips. "Mornin' Beth," he called, his smirking lips spreading into a full blown smile as he dropped the straw to the barn floor.
Beth blushed crimson, but returned the smile and extended a good morning to Glenn as well.
"Dude, ummm ..."Glenn stammered, doing his best not to crack a smile, but he was fighting a losing battle, as the corners of his mouth began turning upwards. "You ummm, missed a -" he pointed towards another wayward straw stuck in Daryl's hair. "Piece," he finished.
"Shut up," Daryl snapped.
Glenn nodded, tightening his lips, but his eyes were still dancing with laughter.
"C'mon," Daryl motioned to Beth, waiting as patiently as he could while she pulled on her jacket, although he just wanted to bolt from all the awkwardness of the moment. He glanced outside, avoiding their eyes, feigning interest in the weather. The storm had passed but it was still drizzling.
"Where's Ty?" Rick asked.
"Should be sleepin'," Daryl replied, thankful for the shift in topic.
Rick nodded, his eyes still alight with amusement.
He knew they were just foolin', but having taken all he was willing to be subjected to this morning, Daryl was ready to go. Swinging his crossbow around the front of his body, he hunched down a bit. "Jump up" he told her, motioning for Beth to climb up on his back, not wanting her to make the trek back to lodge barefooted.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Beth obliged, hoisting herself up on Daryl's back as he grabbed her under the knees and stood back up to his full height.
"Seriously?" Glenn asked as Daryl started walking towards the lodge.
"Yep," Beth called over her shoulder with a smile. "It's a serious piggyback."
