A/N: I feel so accomplished! Another chapter up for you lovely readers, I hope you all enjoy! :D

It was the quiet that bothered him the most. It'd bothered Merle too, or so he'd said one night, not too soon after he'd come back from a tour in the Gulf. Daryl could hear his brother's voice in the back of his head as the three of them crept towards the street, edging along the side of the house.

Most people believed that there's no silence in a war zone, baby brother, only a constant shit ton of gunfire and shellin'. They like to think tha's the reason why some vets come back with their brains leakin' out they ears and blubberin' like pussies. Makes them feel fuckin' smart when they tell someone else tha', as if they have some idea of understandin', some insight into what it's like that makes them better able to empathize. Truth is, Darlina, it was the damned quiet tha' was more likely to get you killed. More often than not, it gave ya time to retreat back into yer own head and start tryin' to reason out what the hell was goin' on. Instincts take a back seat then. Yer brain starts workin' shit out, takes up your attention. You start wonderin' what the hell you're even doin', and why. You wanna know when you're gonna see stateside, when's the next time you'll get to tuck yer kids in at night. You wonder what's the next thing you'll miss and how much longer you've got till you can kiss that pisshole part of the world goodbye. You get so caught up in it, you don't listen when your gut's screamin' at ya to put yer goddamned head down. And then a motherfuckin' bullet does it for ya.

Daryl hadn't put much stock in anything Merle had to say about his time overseas. Most of the time, he was stoned off his ass and couldn't tell which way was up when he started talking about it no ways. But that...that he'd believed.

Adrenaline was popping into his system in short, hard bursts, making him feel kinda buzzed, like everything's edges had sharpened. Every time he stopped to listen, his leg bounced, jittery energy coiling tight. Hell, he'd have been happy to hear a damned jackdaw, as aggravating as they were, if it meant breaking the weird quiet. There was a nudge against the heel of his boot, making him glance down then back to the woman that was standing behind him, her knife held down along the line of her thigh. They were following the line of the fence, slipping between between it and the house next door. Aaron skulked not too far ahead of them, using the scope on his rifle to search the neighborhood ahead for any sign of movement.

Daryl's eyes flickered to hers, watching as she gnawed on one corner of her lip. She was anxious. Beth jerked her head in the direction of the house across from them. Slowly, he nodded and she slinked across the narrow strip of grass to peek around the brick as he pressed his back into cheap siding. She turned back to him and gestured the all clear. He looked at Aaron as he moved to stand behind the petite blonde. The curly-haired man dropped his shoulder as he lowered the gun, shaking his head. Nothing. So why weren't any of them breathing easier?

He leaned over Beth, her shoulder bumping into his chest as he swept his gaze over the street that was now visible. Was it just the fucking silence that was getting on his nerves?

No, he had that itch on his back that Beth had mentioned at the truck and that had never been wrong. Something was off, bad off. Quicker they got out, the better. His mouth tightened. Fuck a new car. There wasn't even one on the street, and the idea of going further into this goddamned ghost town made his stomach roil.

"Fuck this," he muttered. He tapped Beth with his elbow, leaning over her shoulder to whisper in her ear. "C'mon, we're hoofin' it. I ain't gettin' no further in here."

She dipped her head in agreement, keeping her eyes focused ahead of them as he leaned back and signaled to Aaron. Some of that uncomfortable prickliness faded, the urgency dulling as they backed their way towards the woods.

Daryl felt his heart plummet into his stomach when shards of brick suddenly shattered inches from straying blonde strands.

Instinct kicked in and he grabbed Beth around the waist, hauling her back and pulling her down into a crouch with him. Aaron hit the ground right beside them, crimson blooming on his shirt as he fell like a sack of potatoes. Dirt was being picked up in a rapid fire spray, showering them with soil, grass and hot pieces of brick as bullets peppered the house.

"Shit, shit, shit."

It was a litany that he couldn't seem to stop, crushing Beth against him as he twisted around, using his body as a shield. He couldn't hear anything other than the snapping shnick of shrapnel whizzing around them. Daryl barely lifted his head. Fuck, they were pinned unless they could-

Shoving Beth hard, he pushed her towards the narrow basement window that was barely visible through the weeds.

"Get yer ass in there!" he hollered at her, twisting around to drag Aaron behind them.

The lanky man groaned as Daryl roughly pulled him towards the side of the house. Beth yanked her pistol out of the waistband of her jeans and fired at the window, the shot cracking like a cannon and glass exploding in tandem with mortar as the shots kept coming. Fuckers couldn't hit a tractor tire if it was parked in front of 'em, Daryl thought with a snarl as he impatiently rammed his unconscious friend through the opening as Beth lifted the frame, heedless of the sharp shards. If they lived, they damn well could pick them out then.

He looked back as he ushered Beth inside, only catching a quick glimpse of a still empty street as Beth grabbed him by the belt loops and jerked him towards the window. With a grunt, he fell through, tumbling down a set of cardboard boxes and cracking his skull against a concrete floor.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed, shaking his head as a slender pair of denim-clad legs shot past his vision. There was a loud squealing sound, followed by a soft groan. Then nothing.

Holding the heel of his palm against his forehead and thanking JC for a fucking hard skull, Daryl groped for his crossbow, his fingers closing around it before he staggered to his feet. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the gloom. His vision swam a little, spots dancing before they faded altogether. The basement smelled of rot and dust, coated in a couple years worth of neglect and abandonment. As he lowered his hand, he made out a couple of familiar shapes near the floor and he moved towards them, crouching next to the taller one as it bent over the second.

"He aright?" he asked, resting his elbows on his thighs.

"Shoulder wound," Beth answered tersely. "Looks clean. Went through."

Daryl let out a breath of relief. If the bullet went through, and they kept the wound tended, he'd be alright. He relaxed a fraction. Pushing up, he pulled the small flashlight he kept in his pocket and shone it at the window. The boxes that had been stacked beneath it were smashed down where they'd landed on them, and he could see the scuff marks where Beth must have dragged the shelving unit that was now in front of the broken frame. It wouldn't keep people out, but it'd slow then down a little.

From the sounds behind him, he thought she was digging around in her pack. When he turned around, he knew he was right as she clicked on her own flashlight and clenched it between her teeth, aiming its light into the rucksack. She pulled out the first aid kit. Handing him her light, she worked quickly to unbutton Aaron's shirt, pushing the fabric completely off his shoulder and biting off large strips of binding tape. Daryl held flicked off his and stuck it back in his pocket, holding the second steady as she worked. Within a couple of minutes, she'd cleaned and wrapped it with quick, efficient movements. She ticked her chin towards the staircase that was barely visible in the dimness.

"Check it?"

He gave her back the light with a short nod, the muscle in his jaw working as he climbed the steps and gave the door a firm rattle.

"Locked," he called down to her. "Good and bad thing." He moved back to stand over her as she finished pulling Aaron's shirt back over him. "We can't stay here."

"I know," she replied calmly, her even tone soothing some of his frayed nerves and reminding him that being pissed didn't exactly improve their odds.

Forcing himself to take another breath, he stood next to her and ran a hand up her arm. "You shot anywhere?"

She shook her head quickly and he caught a glimmer of cornflower blue in the flashlight's beam as she looked up at him. "You?"

"Nah, I-"

She didn't let him finish, dropping the flashlight and launching herself at him, her mouth pressing to his hard and insistent. Daryl acted on instinct, his crossbow clattering to the floor as his arms wrapped around her and held her tightly to him. Her hands were clutching at his shoulders, then sliding into his hair as the taste of heat and honey exploded on his tongue. His head was filled with that taste, and for a few breathless seconds, that was all that existed. His heart was slamming triple time against his ribs and he could feel hers echoing its beat, a thrumming flutter that jolted low in his belly.

God, she tasted good, felt good. Warm and whole and right there against him, and the sensation damn near broke him. Because she might not have been. She might have-

With a growl, Daryl slipped his hands down over her bottom to her thighs and hoisted her up, keeping his mouth against hers. Faster than she could react, he spun them around so that she was pressed between him and the wall, her legs automatically curling around his waist as he rocked against her, his jeans tight with a need that threatened to overwhelm him. Closer, his mind whispered, one hand cupping the sweet curve of her ass and the other burying itself in her long blonde hair, his fingers gripping the soft strands tight, almost punishing. He needed her closer, needed to know that the scent of sunshine and the lean softness of her body against his was real. She didn't protest, but she did sink her teeth into his lip, a quick retaliating bite that made him throb below his belt. He broke from her to gulp down air, filling his lungs with that fucking amazing smell of summer before pressing his mouth to her neck, nipping the skin he found there and feeling a jerk in his gut when she made a quiet little mewl.

Fuck, did she even know what that sound did to him? His hips snapped into the cradle of hers of their own accord, wanting more than anything to hear her make that sweet noise again as her hands worked some kind of magic and snaked their way under his shirt. Her nails raked down the muscles of his stomach, danced just above the waistline of his jeans, and he bucked against her again.

Aaron's groan of pain was like an ice cold knife sliding into his belly. It made him snatch his head back from her, panting hard as he tried to get his bearings. Desire was drowned in a wash of guilt and Daryl let his head fall against her shoulder with a low groan of his own. Shit, this was not the right time or place for this. Not when those bastards could be pouring down that stairwell at any second.

Beth's touch, a gentle slide of her hands down the sides of his face, pulled him out of his head. He couldn't see her expression, but he could feel the relaxed set of her features as she touched her cheek against his.

"We gotta get outta here," he said gruffly, but he made no move to separate himself from her.

"Yes," she agreed quietly, her voice husky. "Get Aaron home."

He felt her head tip against his, felt the deep breath she took shudder through her slight frame as she gave him a firm push on his shoulders. He shifted back from her and her legs fell from his waist. Reaching up on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against his one more time, but there was no heat in this kiss. It felt affectionate, quiet, a reassurance, and another reminder that she was still there, still gave a damn. It loosened a knot in his chest that he hadn't even been fully aware of.

As Beth moved to kneel beside Aaron on the floor, Daryl bent and retrieved his crossbow.

I guess you'll just have to keep reminding me.

No. You can't rely on anybody for anythin', right? I won't always be here.

Yes, you will, he thought. Beth damn sure would always be there. And those sons of bitches outside weren't going to make a fucking bit of difference in that.