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Daryl shifted so he was angled slightly toward Maggie as she took a seat on the opposite side of the small stoop. For a few minutes, they both just looked out at the darkened trees, listening to the hushed rustle of wind through the leaves and pine needles. If Maggie was waiting for him to start the conversation, she had a long wait coming. Daryl picked at a nonexistent hangnail for a few minutes and then began needlessly adjusting his crossbow bolts in their grooves.
Finally, Maggie cleared her throat. "So… you and my sister, huh?"
It was impossible to tell from Maggie's tone whether she approved, but Daryl had already determined to be honest. "Yeah."
If she was surprised, she didn't show it. Just leaned back against the porch rails and released a long slow breath. He'd been prepared for an objection, at least, if not a full scale Maggie Green foot-stomping rant—anything but this strange, thoughtful silence.
"You love her, then?"
Daryl didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
She nodded. "Good." A sort of peace settled over her features. "Love is good. Maybe the only good thing left." She cocked her head to the side, studying his expression.
"How'd you know? 'Bout us, I mean?"
Maggie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Pretty sure everybody knows. The vibes comin' off the two of you aren't exactly subtle. I haven't seen Beth's eyes glow like that since the Christmas she unwrapped her first guitar."
Warmth filled Daryl's chest. He knew how Beth felt about him, but hearing that other people could also see it made him feel strangely pleased.
Another minute passed before Maggie spoke again, quietly, in a voice choked with feeling. "Thank you, Daryl. Thank you for bringing her back to me. I owe you a huge debt. We both do. I know you took care of her out there. I thought… well, I just assumed, after the prison, that there was no way she could have…"
"Beth is tough," Daryl interrupted her, stiffening a little at the implication that she couldn't take care of herself, even though it was pretty much the same thing he'd thought before he knew better. "She's tougher than any of us gave her credit for. Truth is, she's pulled my bacon outta the fire more than once. There ain't no such thing as owing between her and me."
Maggie seemed uncomfortable at his impassioned response. Daryl could see she still had more on her mind, and figured it was better to have it all out at once.
"You got something you wanna say to me?" he asked without rancor.
"I see how it is between you two, Daryl. But she's still my baby sister." She swallowed nervously. "Look, I know the world's different now, but that doesn't mean… Oh, hell, I don't know how to do this! My daddy ain't here so I guess it's up to me to ask. Just what are your intentions toward my sister?"
She looked so earnest that Daryl had to bite back a chuckle. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out an object that he'd been carrying around for the last few weeks, waiting for the right moment to come along. Waiting for courage, too, if he was being honest about it.
The ring didn't have a diamond on it, or any stones at all, for that matter. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable. But a closer look revealed an intricate braided design of gold, white gold, and rose gold strands that wound inextricably around each other with no beginning and no end. For Daryl, it was a perfect picture of how he and Beth were bound together, and he planned to tell her that on the day he gave it to her.
To Maggie, he said simply, "I just want to be with her, every day, for however long we get."
The shifting moonlight reflected off of fresh moisture at the corners of Maggie's eyes, and her face broke into a wide smile. She grasped one of Daryl's hands and squeezed. "I think that's just about the best thing I've ever heard." Standing up, she dusted off the seat of her jeans, then reached for the door. Just before she went inside, she met Daryl's gaze with an affectionate look. "Daddy would think so, too."
Daryl awoke the next morning to the sounds of a few people moving around, low murmurs of conversation, and a pack being scraped and shuffled across the dusty wooden floor. He was so used to being alone with Beth these days that it took him a moment to remember where he was. Their family. They'd found them.
It wasn't yet full day, but the faint light of predawn showed the shapes of those slumbering nearby. A familiar blonde head was tucked under his chin, resting on the bulge of muscle in his upper arm. Beth's long, slow breaths attested that she was still asleep, and Daryl wondered if he could get away with pretending that he was, too, in order to avoid waking her. It wouldn't be too hard to drift off again, he thought, reveling in the warmth of her small body curled into his. He could get used to this—wanted to get used to it. But first he had to ask her. Before Maggie accidentally spilled the beans. His pulse raced at the idea.
It wasn't that he didn't trust how Beth felt, but the more he thought about making their bond permanent, the more he began to wonder what exactly she did see in him. He was older than her, for one thing. And not that much to look at, or at least that's what he'd always thought when he'd caught glimpses of himself in the mirror: hard eyes, stubborn jaw, scars all over the place. He'd been patched up and sewn back together so many times after fights and beatings that he sometimes felt like Frankenstein's monster. And Beth was smart. Before the turn, she'd already gone to high school two more years than he had. Probably would have gone on to college and become a veterinarian or artist or something. Dropping out hadn't seemed like a big deal to Daryl before, but now he wondered.
He tried to banish the thoughts before they had a chance to grow roots. Those things didn't matter, did they? The world was different now, and so was the math people used to measure themselves and each other. He might be behind in book learning, but he was strong and skilled, and no one else in the world could keep her as safe as he could. He knew that Beth loved him as much as he loved her, and he knew that he would give everything he had, everything he was, to bring light into her life the way she had brought it into his. His worries faded away like what they were: old voices from a life long gone. He tightened his free arm around Beth's waist and dozed.
It seemed like mere seconds later that a rough boot kicked the sole of his foot and Rick's voice cut into his dreams, "Rise and shine, y'all!"
Daryl cracked an eye open and peered up at his friend, who was wearing a decidedly amused grin under his bountiful beard. Its source became obvious when Beth shifted in his arms and slowly stretched herself awake. She aimed a sleepy grin at Daryl, but when she followed his gaze up to Rick's knowing smirk, she flushed pink and sat up.
"Y'all are the last two awake," Rick said, schooling his face into a more casual expression. "We figured you were probably extra tired after your travels. Come get something to eat." He handed Daryl a steaming mug of what pretended to be coffee.
Daryl took one sip, grimaced, and handed it back.
"Yeah," Rick chuckled, "we found this bag of Folgers on our last run. It's a few years past its sell-by date." He finished the rest of it in a few large gulps. "Better than nothin', though."
Daryl wasn't so sure.
The hum of chatter died down somewhat as Daryl and Beth joined everyone. Most of them had finished eating already and were repacking their gear or digging toothbrushes out of their bags. Tearing into a granola bar, Daryl noticed enough surreptitious glances and quirked lips to deduce that speculation about his relationship with Beth was running wild. He directed a pointed look at Maggie, but she just gave a little shrug as if to say, "What? I didn't tell anyone."
Rick sat down next to Daryl and clapped him warmly on the shoulder. "It's like a miracle to have you back, brother." He smiled past Daryl at the woman sitting next to him. "You too, Beth."
Beth's smile was iridescent. She looked around the circle at everyone in turn, her joy at being reunited with them apparent. The ones they didn't know introduced themselves, and Daryl wondered what their stories were. He supposed he'd have time to find out, now that they were all together again.
"So," Rick said, "tell us where you've been. How have you two been keeping yourselves out in the world?"
Beth turned her smile on Daryl and slipped her pale hand into his. Ignoring the grins of their fellow survivors, he laced his fingers through hers, in front of God and everybody.
"Well, first thing you gotta know is that I wouldn't have made it without Beth," he began. Between the two of them, they told the group about their months on the road. Some things they skipped over, as if by unspoken agreement to keep those moments private, a history known just to the two of them: Beth's first drink, Daryl's tears, burning down that rickety old cabin with its shackles to the past. When they got to the part about the fake cops who had tried to abduct Beth, Maggie made a low noise of horror in her throat and looked at Daryl with fresh gratitude in her eyes.
Following the tale of their escape, Beth began to tell the group about the homestead. When she described the clear well water and the fully stocked storage room, an undercurrent of excitement went around the circle. Daryl chimed in with his assessment of the compound's physical security and what they'd been planning to do to reinforce it.
"Ash here is a great guard dog, too, ain't ya, boy? Can hear a walker comin' a quarter mile off."
The dog, who was nestled up against Beth's other side, thumped his tail against the floor as if he understood perfectly well that he was being praised.
"And the best part is," continued Beth, "the house is huge. There's plenty of room for all of us. We can build up the defenses, scavenge and hunt for whatever else we need… we could make a life there."
Murmurs of enthusiasm passed from one person to another. Glenn whispered something to Maggie that made her smile.
Rick opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a brawny man with red hair and a remarkable horseshoe mustache stood up and, with an air of finality, said, "You know we can't do that, Rick. We gotta keep moving."
"Just sit down a minute, Abraham, and let's talk through all our options."
"There are no other options!" the giant barked. "We are keeping to the mission. You little girls can settle down and play house if you want to, but I am going to get Eugene to D.C. and fix this Charlie Foxtrot! Anybody wants to come with me better be out front in fifteen minutes." He turned to address a quiet man Beth hadn't noticed before; he was overweight and had the most unfortunate mullet she'd ever seen. "C'mon, Rosita! Eugene! We're buggin' out."
The dark-haired woman Daryl had met the night before got up without a word and began gathering up guns and supplies from one of the pews halfway down the aisle.
"Abraham," the mulleted man said, a tremor in his voice. He had to say it three times before Abraham noticed that he was speaking.
"What is it, Eugene? Ain't got no time to drag our asses. This detour has slowed us down enough already. Now move!"
It was clearly a dismissal, but Eugene wasn't done yet.
"Well, uh, I believe I need to clarify some of the details of our association and the aims thereof," he continued, avoiding eye contact, "that will fundamentally affect the outcome of these present discussions."
Abraham squinted down at Eugene in a way that made Beth glad she was not the object of his scrutiny. He was nearly growling. "What the hell are you sayin'?"
"Just that, inasmuch as you understand me to be in possession of knowledge that can shed light on the origins of and subsequent reversal of our current predicament, that being the universal infection and reanimation of deceased members of the human race, you are, in point of fact, mistaken."
A dangerous look came into Abraham's eyes, one that had Rick and Glenn scrambling to their feet.
"Mistaken?" Abraham spluttered. "Did you say I am mistaken?" He took a step toward Eugene. "Why don't you tell me then, Mr. Wizard? Just what am I mistaken about? What part of what you told me did I get wrong?"
Eugene had the grace to look ashamed, at least. "It is true that I have a talent for scientific observation, which I used to great effect in my previous occupation as a lab technician, but…" He glanced up at the open flame in the red haired man's eyes and suppressed a shudder of apprehension. "But in actual truth, I do not now have, nor have I ever had, knowledge of a cause or cure for the current contagion that has enveloped humanity. To express it in the common vernacular, I lied."
Two or three seconds of loaded silence followed his last word. Daryl and Beth didn't know what was going on, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Then several things happened at once. With a snarl, Abraham launched himself at Eugene, who scrabbled backward across the floor in panic. Rick, Glenn, and Maggie rushed to intercept the ginger giant before his meaty fist could find its target. Conscious of the scuffle of booted feet and the struggling mass of humanity above them, Daryl scooped Beth up and rolled them both away from the altercation, out of harm's way.
It was over in seconds, or at least the worst of it was. Eugene cowered in a corner ignoring disgusted looks from Rosita while Abraham, far from mollified, slammed out the front doors and strode off into the woods, his staccato footfalls beating out the rhythm of his fury.
Maggie quietly explained to Beth and Daryl about Eugene's "mission" and the revelation that it was apparently all a farce to convince stronger and braver survivors to look out for him. Daryl shook his head in disbelief. He could understand Abraham's rage and found himself taking an instant dislike to the sniveling Eugene.
They decided to table any further discussion of their next move until Abraham returned. If he returned. It was clear that in the short time they had known him, the group had come to value his skills and his determination. Rick told Daryl that he was planning to ask Abraham to throw his lot in with them permanently. They'd all been prepared to accompany him and Eugene to Washington until Daryl and Beth showed up, but their description of the place they'd found definitely held an appeal for the road-weary survivors. Perhaps it was just as well that Eugene's promised cure had turned out to be all smoke and mirrors. There had been no guarantee that they would even make it to D.C., let alone find anyone alive who could do anything with Eugene's supposed knowledge.
The day dragged on with no sign of Abraham. As they waited, Daryl and Beth spent the time catching up with all the news of their recovered family members. Or rather, Beth caught up with them. Daryl hovered, as usual, on the periphery of the conversation, listening and observing but not saying much. He was content just to watch her, to take in her glowing eyes and easy smile as she swapped tales with the others. She turned to him occasionally for confirmation or to fill in certain details, drawing him into the circle of her warmth as she always did, and the certainty of her love flowed over him like a cleansing tide.
Suddenly he didn't want to wait any longer.
He waited for a break in the talking and then, leaning down, he offered a hand to Beth. "Can you help me with somethin'?"
She rose to her feet and allowed him to pull her out the door without hesitation. They walked a couple hundred yards away, stopping where a small copse of dogwood trees leaned into each other, giving the appearance of a canopy over their heads. He wanted privacy, but didn't want to wander too far from the church and the others.
When he turned to face her, Beth smirked up at him, already winding her arms around his neck. "Just what was it you needed my 'help' with, Mr. Dixon?" she teased. He couldn't help it then. He kissed her once, deeply, pulling away only with difficulty. As much as he would have liked to continue, he didn't want to lose his nerve. And he was definitely nervous. The possibility that she would say no, that he had misread the depth of the connection they shared, sprang up to torment him. Voices from the past tried to reassert themselves, carrying their burden of self-doubt and worthlessness.
Looking into her wide, blue eyes, though, he felt all of those worries fall away one by one. Here, in this spot, at this moment, it was just him and her and the whisper of whatever future they would build together. The fear was gone.
Daryl took her hands from around his neck and held them in his. Beth smiled her encouragement, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"Beth, I don't really know the 'right' way to do this," he began, "so I'll just say it straight out." He cleared his throat. "I love you, Beth. You know that."
Awkwardly, he lowered himself to one knee.
Beth gasped, and emotion flitted across her face.
Daryl plowed ahead. "I wanna be your man, Beth. And not just for now. Forever." He reached into his vest pocket and produced the ring he'd been carrying around since the night they first kissed. He had found it in the jewelry box of the master bedroom at the homestead and its sweet simplicity had reminded him of the beautiful girl now standing before him. "I guess what I'm sayin' is… will you marry me?"
Beth dropped to her knees before him, so they were on the same level when she took his rough face in her cool hands and said, with feeling, "I will. I will, Daryl. I love you so much."
And then she was kissing him, and he was kissing her, and they were holding each other and laughing, and somehow he got the ring down over her finger before they were kissing again, their lips and their hands somehow sealing the moment, fixing it in time and in their memories.
They were still lost in each other when an unmistakable voice boomed across the little grotto, causing them to spring apart like they'd been doused with cold water and making Daryl leap reflexively to his feet, weapon at the ready.
"Damn! It's a good thing for you two lovebirds I'm not a herd of walkers! You'd be a red smear on the ground by now, the way you were going at it." Abraham leaned against a tree a few feet away, cleaning his fingernails with the tip of a hunting knife, a look of supreme entertainment on his face.
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