Our Slipping Masks
Beth followed a half-step behind Daryl as they descended the porch steps and crossed the yard. The storm was still building overhead, blocking out the sun and casting a gray haze over everything. The wind had picked up to a strong breeze that whipped their hair to the side and tugged at the ends of their clothing. They walked all the way to the end of the drive, where he'd parked his bike, in complete silence. He kept his new book tucked beneath one arm, and as soon as they reached the motorcycle, he opened the saddlebag and nestled the book inside safely before snapping the bag closed.
Beth stood tensely in place an arm's reach away as he turned and faced her definitively. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and slumped his shoulders, gazing down at her through a fringe of dark hair. Even though Merle hadn't reappeared yet, she felt put on the spot. She clasped her hands together and let them hang at the hem of her sweater, absent-mindedly fiddling with a loose thread in the fabric as she gazed up into the oceanic depths of his eyes.
"You really don't have to read it if you don't want to," she said, her voice quiet and edged with nerves. "My dad gets a little overzealous from time to time. It's gotten a lot worse over the last few years—ever since he started goin' to the doctor more often. He acts like every day could be his last. I mean, I don't blame him for it, but it can be a bit much. Fer new people. But ya know, he wouldn't think any less of you if you didn't wanna come to church again, or learn more about the Bible."
Daryl grunted, frowning. "What makes ya think I don't wanna read it? Ya think I'd lie to yer old man?"
She quickly shook her head. "No, I just—"
"I wasn't just bein' polite. I might seem like some uneducated redneck, but I ain't opposed to learnin' new things, ya know."
Thunder rumbled in the sky.
"Daryl, that's not what I was implying. Merle was convinced you didn't really have any interest, but I told him he's wrong. I was just apologizing because I know my dad can come on a little strong. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or like yer bein' pushed into anything."
"Well, I don't. Already told you I'm tryin'a get on God's good side. I'll take all the help I can get."
She shrugged. "Fair enough."
She didn't question his defensive responses. She understood. It was how he dealt with new emotions. She'd figured that out by now. And clearly, today's experiences had brought on a whole slew of new emotions. She was learning him, day by day. She was getting better at interpreting his unspoken language with every moment she spent around him.
There was a beat; a slightly awkward moment of silence. Then Daryl shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
"Yer daddy's a real good guy," he muttered. "Wish I would'a had somebody like him when I was growin' up. If my dad was even half the man yours is, I might'a had a fighting chance."
A flash of lightning lit up the world for no longer than a heartbeat, followed by a low clap of thunder.
Beth frowned, but agreed. "He is. He's the best guy I've ever known, and I'm lucky to call him my dad. I'm just glad you got to know him." Her fingers pulled at the thread on the hem of her sweater, pinching it between her forefingers. "I know you said not to be sorry about Shawn, but I am. He's an ass. He shouldn't have talked to you like that today. It was totally uncalled for."
Daryl simply shrugged. "It's whatever. He's just bein' a big brother. I'd be skeptical too, if I was him."
That response didn't settle right with her. She hmphed and said, "Yeah, but you don't deserve to be treated that way. And I'm sick of makin' excuses for him. I should've stood up for you—should've called him out on his bullshit and—"
"Stood up for me?" Daryl repeated, cutting her off. His eyes narrowed. "What, you think I need you to defend me? I been around long enough ta know how to deal with people like Shawn, ya know. You think I can't handle a little criticism?"
She was caught off-guard. "No, I—it was just… Merle was so pissed. He kept sayin' you wanted to take Shawn out back and beat his ass, kept sayin' you would do that eventually, and I didn't… I just felt bad fer not stepping in."
Daryl scoffed and shook his head. "Christ. Merle's really gettin' into yer head, ain't he?"
"No," she objected. "Not at all."
"Oh, yeah?" Daryl countered. "You really think I'd wanna beat yer brother's ass over some petty shit? Like I give a flying fuck what he thinks of me? Would beatin' him bloody make him think any better of me? No. So why would I waste the fuckin' effort? He can have whatever opinion he wants. Ain't none'a my goddamn business. So long as yer daddy knows I'm not a piece of shit, we're golden. The fuck kinda man you think I am, Beth?"
Beth reeled. She blinked, stunned silent and taken aback for a moment. Then she responded, "I think you're a good man, Daryl. And I think you do care what other people think of you, even if you won't admit it. And that's okay. I don't expect you to desire my brother's approval—or anyone's, fer that matter. But I also don't expect you to just be okay with being treated like some kinda lesser being in the middle of a public place."
Daryl grunted and waved her words away. "'S whatever. Just forget it. I ain't gonna be losin' no sleep over it, an' neither should you. Shawn can be an asshole all he wants. No skin off my back. I'm not goin' nowhere till you tell me ta fuck off."
Beth immediately softened. She knew he meant it only because she was the one who could communicate with his dead brother. But the way it came out gave her butterflies.
Ugh. Butterflies. What was she thinking? She needed to bring herself back down to earth and remember the reason for their coming together.
You're no turnip, Beth thought. And you're sure as hell no stray cat. So what are you? I wanna know you, Daryl Dixon. I wanna know what keeps you going everyday. What're you hiding underneath all that rough skin? What are you protecting behind that big wall you've built? Why won't you let me in so I can help?
His tone became a bit apologetic once he observed the upset look on her face. "Gotta stop lettin' Merle's commentary get to ya like that, Greene. He don't know me like he thinks he does; he never did. Nobody does."
And that's the problem, isn't it? She thought.
But she said, "Yeah. You're right. It just… gets difficult sometimes."
He shrugged. "Don't I know it."
More thunder overhead, so low that it seemed to shake the ground beneath them.
Beth cleared her throat and straightened her back. Then she said, with refined confidence, "Regardless of how my family behaved today, I want you ta know I really appreciate that you joined us. You were real polite. I could tell you were uncomfortable, but I think Maggie an' my dad were pretty impressed. Ya fit right in. So thanks for bein' a good sport… or whatever. Considering the circumstances." She smirked playfully, and he smirked back.
Then he grunted and glanced away. "'S called masking."
She furrowed her brow. "Huh?"
She could see him swallowing past a knot in his throat, and his eyes tentatively met hers. "Masking—it's a term Carol taught me. Sum'n her therapist talked to her about. 'S gotta do with anxiety or some shit like that. Basically exactly what it sounds like. And it's pretty exhausting… 'S just somethin' I've learned to do over the years. To fit in. I don't think I got whatever gene Merle inherited that gave him so much natural charisma. I ain't ever been good at the social stuff."
"Oh," Beth said. She shifted awkwardly, but retained her composure. "Well, I'm sorry you had to mask for my family. I've never heard that term till now, but I feel like I can relate to it…"
"Nah," he quickly assured. "It's alright. 'Cause it wasn't really exhausting this time. Kinda felt like I could be myself at lunch. So that was nice." He glanced away awkwardly. "Shawn might be an asshole, but I get where he's comin' from. He don't know the situation like Maggie does. He's got good reason ta be skeptical. Can't say I expected anything less from 'im. He's yer brother, after all. 'S only right that he'd wanna protect you from guys like me."
Beth opened her mouth to object, but Daryl quickly cut her off.
"Listen, Beth—might sound fuckin' stupid, and Merle's gonna make fun'a me fer days after I say this, but—"
"Merle's not here right now."
His eyes flicked around warily before settling on hers with trepidation. "Really?"
She nodded.
He hesitated, giving another brief glance around as though he would be able to see his brother reappearing out of nowhere. Then he went on, "Well, whatever. My point is… I felt like part of a family today. A real family. And it felt… good."
Beth froze, but she didn't say anything. She just stared, listening intently as Daryl spoke. The wind whipped through her hair and she had to tuck a loose strand behind her ear to get it away from her eyes.
"And I dunno how to pay yer daddy back fer somethin' like that, but I'll do whatever it takes… Hell, I dunno how to pay you back fer that. I'll do what I can, though. Jus' say the word, girl. I'm in this fer the long haul, no matter how bloody it might get. We can go to Hell an' back if it means makin' The Governor pay for what he did. I'll do all the dirty work, too, so long as I can keep you an' yer folks safe. My brother might not deserve no redemption, but yer family sure don't deserve to be haunted by his ass. My soul's not even a factor in this—that's just a side-effect. I couldn't care less 'bout where I go after I die. What I'm worried about is what I do with the time I got left… Know what I mean?"
Beth exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said. "I know exactly what you mean." She pressed her lips together and forced back the wave of tears that were suddenly threatening to push their way up from her throat. Her voice came out a little more hoarse than usual when she whispered, "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. And you're a good friend."
A blush rose in his cheeks and he glanced away, worrying his lower lip. He simply grunted.
A second later, she was debating on whether she should reach out and take his hand in hers. But she couldn't seem to pull her fingers away from the loose thread in the hem of her sweater. Nor could she stop staring up at him, almost in awe and admiration.
Lightning lit up the sky. More thunder.
He finally flicked his eyes back over to meet hers and said, "You got some real good people on yer side, Beth. Don't let my presence screw that up. It ain't worth it."
And there it was. The self-doubt that Daryl seemed to gravitate toward; the self flagellation that Beth had been waiting for. It always came along at one point or another. She knew, if he was feeling some kind of joy or belonging, that he was surely also feeling some kind of serious pessimism. Or guilt. It was just in his nature. He didn't think he deserved good things, to put it simply. Because that's how he'd been raised. It was all he knew.
Merle's voice echoed in her head: "People like us… Dixons—we're poison. The way my mama's life turned out… I don't wanna see that happen to you, Beth."
But Merle was wrong. He was so, so wrong.
She shook her head and scoffed. "Why would your presence screw it up? Just because my brother hasn't come around doesn't mean yer gonna somehow alienate my whole family. That's ridiculous."
Daryl shrugged awkwardly. "Who knows. All'm sayin' is I'm not worth losin' anybody over. Whether it be yer whole family or just yer brother. I've told ya before, but I wanna make sure you know I mean it: You should always choose them over me… No matter what. This ain't worth losin' yer own dignity over, neither. Y'shouldn't have to sacrifice your morals for my sake." He looked down at her with something that resembled impunity. "Ya hear me? No matter what. I don't ever want you sacrificin' nothin' fer Merle's sake, or mine. Whatever that might mean."
She didn't respond. Didn't move.
He added, "Not here. And not on The Other Side. Nowhere, Greene. We ain't worth it."
Oh, Daryl, she thought sadly, but didn't say. Even though she kind of wanted to. You are worth it. You're so worth it. And so is your brother. You both always were. No matter how hard your dad tried to convince you otherwise. This isn't what your mama would've wanted. I don't have to know her to be sure of that much. I don't have to know you to be sure of that much. You were good boys, who got dealt a bad hand. Just like my daddy always says…
"You understand, girl? I say that, an' I mean it. I'll put that on my mama's grave," Daryl persisted. The low growl of his voice melded with the rumble of thunder that echoed around them.
Beth finally nodded, though it was weak. She swallowed past a growing knot in her throat and silently urged him to maintain eye contact, but his gaze was averted away, down at his hay-covered boots. He was purposely avoiding meeting her eyes. She could sense his unease; his unwillingness to look her in the eye while he stated his terms so firmly.
"I never planned on sacrificing anything when it came to helpin' you. Why would I have to, anyway? This ain't got nothin' to do with my morals or my dignity," she said, her voice quiet and meek, gradually growing stronger as she continued. "And I would never put this situation before my own family—the whole reason I got so deep into it was to stop Merle from haunting my dad to death. But that was before I knew a good man's soul was on the line. So now I'm all in. Just like you are. Whether you like it or not, I care about you, Daryl. And I'm not gonna stop till I know your soul is safe. I'm not gonna quit till I see The Governor pay for all the damage he did… And that's not even on nobody's grave. It's not on my stupid Gift either; I'm not puttin' that on bein' a friend. That's on my faith. That's on who I wanna be as a person."
Daryl gazed down at her thoughtfully, and his eyes skimmed her up and down like he was observing her for the first time all over again. She saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. He shoved his hands down deep into his pockets. "Yeah, well, yer determination is admirable, but if it comes down to losin' yer brother or whoever else over it, if it comes down to doin' somethin' you don't believe in… that's where we draw the line. The Governor ain't nothin' but a pansy little bitch, and he'll get what's comin' to him. One way or another. I'mma make sure of that. Won't need yer Gift to do as much neither."
Beth sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not losin' anybody over this. I'm not doin' anything I wouldn't already do, knowin' what I know." She paused, hesitating long enough to study his expression. He seemed contemplative, staring down at her with pursed lips and a creased brow. "Are you...?"
A loaded question, she knew. But one she couldn't resist asking.
He shifted. His shoulders squared, jaw ticking to one side. A quiet grunt came from his throat. "Not if I can help it," he mumbled.
What does that mean? She silently wondered. What aren't you telling me? Why can't I figure you out? What do I have to do to prove to you that you're worth giving a shit about? I know you're nowhere near as far gone as Merle was… so why do you keep acting like you are? Why don't you know it? Has everyone in your life drilled this self-doubt into your head so deep that I can never pull it out? Is there any hope to be found in you, Daryl Dixon?
There was suddenly a loud clap of thunder that startled both of them. They tilted their heads skyward, as though they'd be able to see the rain making its way down to earth. But all they saw were more flashes of lightning within the billowing dark clouds.
Daryl cleared his throat to get Beth's attention and she met his eyes, gripping the hem of her sweater with both hands. He pulled his hands from his pockets and pushed his hair out of his face.
"'S gonna start rainin' any second," he said. "I'd best get home 'fore it gets too bad."
She nodded. "'Course. You shouldn't be ridin' that thing through a storm anyhow."
He shrugged and glanced her up and down. The butterflies flapped wildly in her stomach. Inside her head, she was going over a thousand different things she could say. As well as a thousand different questions she still had.
"Well," he started.
"Well, um—" She smirked bashfully and took a tiny step closer, warily opening her arms. "Would it be alright if I gave you a hug? I feel like I owe you at least that much after the day we had." She knew he wasn't the hugging type, but she was, and it would make her feel better. Maybe it would make him feel a little better, too. She could hope.
She saw the tips of his ears turn red first, then a blush rose up from his neck and started to bloom in his cheeks. He quickly looked down and nodded sheepishly. "Sure, but I stink. Been sweatin' my ass off."
She giggled. "Me, too. We're both covered in hay."
She waited until he lifted his head again and made a slight movement to open his arms, then she ducked her head and closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his middle, her face level with his chest and pressing against the fabric of his shirt. And she hugged him.
For the first time since they'd met, Beth was hugging Daryl. Like a real friend. Not just holding hands or falling into his arms due to unconsciousness. She was close to him—so close she could hear his heartbeat in his chest, could feel the warmth that radiated from his body, could smell the mixture of sweat and soap and laundry detergent.
What happened next was… completely involuntary. She didn't mean to do it. She didn't even know how it happened.
The last thing Beth felt were Daryl's arms tentatively resting around her, his hands barely grazing her upper back. The last thing she heard was a soft clap of thunder in the distance. And then, the next thing she knew, her Gift was taking over.
It was taking her away.
She had no choice but to go along for the ride.
to be continued…
A/N: Happy Holidays! And to those who celebrate: Merry Christmas!
