A/N: "Reckless Abandon" by Blink 182.

reckless abandon

It was like… being home.

Everything that Daryl embodied was everything Beth sought out when she desperately needed comfort. Maybe it had been the other way around at one time, but that time was long ago, a memory she could no longer recall.

Sometimes she thought he might still need her in the same way she needed him, but he'd always do something to prove her wrong. He never failed to make her feel like she had never been anything but a curse on his otherwise peaceful life.

But he could see something in her. Something that no one else could seem to see. She'd thought Jimmy might have seen the same thing, for a short time. But just as quickly as she'd reached out and felt her fingertips grazing the familiar tendrils of something akin to her soul, he had yanked it back and hidden it away. He'd locked it up and shoved her far from him. And she'd been left with that same empty ache - the deep loss that Daryl had left her with, like having stitches ripped out of a barely-healed wound. Like losing something that you weren't sure had ever really been yours to begin with.

Except this was worse, because she'd hurt someone else in the process of attempting to find happiness for herself. And not just someone, but Daryl. The only person who'd been there consistently for the last four years, the only person who'd seen her most hideous side and still refused to turn away. The only person who knew her, really knew her - inside and out - and still wanted to know her.

Sure, she'd tried to hate him. She couldn't even count all the fights anymore, all the pointless arguments, the yelling matches that took them around in the same circles over and over and over again with no goddamn end in sight. There'd been numerous times when she'd managed to convince herself that, this was it, this was the last straw, he's hurt me enough.

And then he'd come back around, or they'd find their way back to each other (like it was meant to be). And he'd look at her with those ocean-deep eyes, drowning her in the empathy of his unspoken grief and suffering, and she'd feel him.

She could feel him with her in every step, every moment; there were times when she could hear him in her own voice, he'd become so impossibly embedded into her life and into the very core of who she was as a person.

And she couldn't stop the overwhelming rush of love she felt for him. Every time, just from the sight of his face. She could try to hate him all she wanted, but it never worked. It never stuck.

And then they'd find that comfortable place again. They'd fall back in like they'd never even left, and he'd wrap his thick arms around her and hold her against his broad chest and she could feel his pulse thrumming against his throat and she could taste the inescapable need in his mouth. She'd feel it in every thrust, in every buck of his hips and every gentle squeeze of his fingertips. She could hear it in his guttural moans and soft grunts.

I need you. I love you. You need me. This is where we're supposed to be. This is true love.

She could hear it because something inside her was repeating it back to him, and she had no power to silence it.

There was always a part of her crying out, begging herself to stop, reminding her that he was the only one who could bring out the very worst in her. Reminding her that he'd hurt her, that he'd left extra-large scars that never seemed to heal. Reminding her that she'd never been so dangerous before, that she'd never been capable of such things before him.

But Jesus Christ, their bodies fit together so perfectly. As if they'd been made for each other.

He might've been the only one that was able to bring out the most destructive side of her, but he was also the only one who could make her feel truly safe. Sadly, not even Jimmy had been able to make her feel that. Though she'd never admit that aloud.

And as far as where she and Daryl had ended up, after everything… Well, she wasn't even sure who was to blame anymore. They'd both hurt each other equally. They'd both made their own fair share of mistakes. And they'd both crawled back, time and time again, begging on hands and knees with cheeks drenched in tears, pleading for forgiveness. For one. more. chance.

How many more chances did they have left? How many times could they keep picking at the same scabs, reopening the same old wounds and bathing in the blood that seeped out, before one of them finally walked away and said, enough is enough?

Every single thing about them had been utterly imperfect and completely inopportune. They'd grown and intertwined together like vines along an abandoned building, sprouting leaves where leaves weren't meant to grow. Feeding on each other, soaking themselves in the same patch of soil and weaving their roots together, sapping one another of vital nutrients while still reaching for the warmth of the sun. They'd become the very definition of toxic.

Yet every time they tried to pull apart, that invisible thread that connected them wrapped itself tighter around their wrists and yanked them back together. Neither of them could seem to figure out how to untie the knot.

And sometimes, she didn't even want to.

to be continued...