The room stinks of blood. Blood and death, rot that burns the hairs in her nose. When she looks around she sees nothing but death. All her family dying. Maggie screaming as teeth tear into her throat, her eyes connecting with Beth as an understanding passes through them. Maggie took Beth's bite, took her death and changed her whole life but beneath it all the ever familiar current of I love you.

Jesus she can't breathe.

She dives forward to help, chest heaving, heart pounding but then impossibly fast Maggie rises as a walker, her eyes milky with death and her neck pouring clotted, rotten blood, black as coal. Beth turns away in disgust, eyes streaming tears as Glenn's head explodes off the cement floor. The blood and brains fly forth from his split skull, splattering her face and lips. She gags, choking on nothing, trying to find air.

Can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe.

It's like she's having a panic attack but even aware of it she can't control it, her vision pulsing black on the edges as her brain becomes oxygen starved. She stumbles over her own feet, trying to catch her breath, blinking away black spots. When she focuses she realises she's looking right into her daddy's eyes. His decapitated head is lying on the floor like a discarded ball, blood seeping out in a puddle where maggots play and dance. Beth heaves as her daddy's eyelashes blink at her. Taking a running leap to her feet, desperate to find Daryl, desperate to escape, desperate to breathe.

"Daryl!" She screams. "Daryl, we have to go!"

She turns in a dizzying circle as the room sways around her, her eyes finding Carl lumbering towards her on a broken leg turned in a sickening angle. Judith is like a sleeping doll in his arms, Beth's stomach heaving every time Carl's dead arm swings wildly and nearly drops her. His ribs are broken clean open, tearing through his skin and shirt.

Beth squeezes her eyes closed as she tries to suck in a rattling breath. "Daryl! Please! God, I can't breathe."

Something crashes into her back and she flies across the rough floor through a pool of blood, soaking her stomach and chest. Flipping onto her back, she screams as Rick's rotten face leers at her, his entrails hanging out of his belly and sliding all over her skin where her top has ridden up.

"No! Get off! Rick, stop, stop!" She screams as she shoves at his face. "Rick please, Ric- fuck!"

His teeth clamp into her wrist, tearing free a chunk of bloody skin and all she can do is scream.

"Beth!"

The world floods black and then there's light but she's still screaming. "Get off! Get off me! Please!"

"Beth, s'me! S'me, it's Daryl!" His face comes into focus and she stops screaming, her wrists clenched in his hand as he leans over her. "S'okay. Was just a dream. S'okay."

"Daryl?" She whispers weakly, her chin trembling.

"M'here," he reassures her gently, his hand timidly stroking back her damp hair. "M'right here. Breathe, girl, you're alrite."

Beth takes a shaky, deep breath as she shoves her face into his chest, fighting off the terror. His arms wrap around her and she clings to him like a dead weight, pulling him over her body. He follows, taking the edge of the blanket and tucking it around them so they're in a warm little cocoon.

"M'sorry," she whispers after an age of her shaky breaths. "You think any walkers heard?"

"Maybe," he mumbles softly against her forehead where her head is pressed to his chest. "But s'nearly dawn so we'll be good. You alrite to keep goin'?"

"Yeah," she answers with more determination than she feels. "Mullin' over it ain't gonna make me feel better. They're gone."

A hitch in his chest makes her eyes water but she blinks rapidly as he whispers, "we're not gone. We're still here. We made it."

Beth bites solidly on her bottom lip and refuses to let the tears escape or she'll never stop. Taking a deep breath, she rolls onto her back and stares up at the sky beginning to warm with the sun. After a moment of deep breaths, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she pushes upwards and rolls her shoulders.

"Guess this means we're gettin' up?" Daryl mumbles behind his hand as it scrubs down his face.

She nods. "Lets move."


Days later, her eyes blink sleepily open and she realises she must have fallen asleep in Daryl's arms again. She's been doing that a lot lately, sleeping deeper in his arms, allowing him to be there in the cold nights and through the nightmares. There's been no more kissing bar soft, timid ones to her cheeks and forehead. It's like he doesn't want to push her, echoes her moods perfectly by giving her affection when she needs it and giving her space when she needs that too. More and more lately what she's needed has been humanity bleeding back into her, soaking into her bones and reminding her that she is alive, that she shouldn't feel guilty when she craves physical affection.

Craves Daryl's grunts and their shared laughs. Taking a deep breath as she fully comes to, she begins to process the fact that she's curled right into Daryl's chest, her back pressed there and his arm tucked tight around her waist. The sun is hot and blinding, still young in the sky, not yet noon. Her right cheek facing the blaze is burning and itchy with flush, her eyelashes crisp with dried up sleep. She hasn't slept that solidly in a really long time. Warm and surprisingly comfortable here on the ground, her body aches with comfort deep in her bones. Daryl's mouth is pressed to the back of her neck, his breath soft and even in sleep.

Beth stretches with a soft groan and he stirs in answer behind her, his arm tightening around her waist for a moment before he makes to move. She grips his forearm quickly before he can move completely away, not sure if that's something she can ask for, even silently. He rumbles a laugh against her throat where his head tucks in deeper. "Y'good?" He mumbles thickly.

She shivers at his husky, sleepy voice as it washes down her throat and collarbones but she's surprised to find a smile tug at her lips. "I actually… am."

The next breath that comes out of him is almost relief and Beth basks in this feeling, this almost solid feeling that they'll be okay. That they have lost something dear, something important, many someone's but that in the end they still have each other. If she wants to grieve she can, but she doesn't have to be the walking dead. It's time to live again, in whatever way she's able to. Starting with them and with this new tender thing they seem to have cultivated out on the road. She licks her lips with nervous anticipation as she lays her hand on his and gently nudges it between her legs.

Daryl's breathing shoots sharp between his teeth, his head pushing forward over her shoulder as if he means to peek at her face. "Y'sure… you want me to..." He drifts over his words, sounding not quite sure himself.

Beth angles her head back to catch his eyes, her face now flushed in aroused embarrassment rather than heat. "I would like… I mean…" she laughs nervously, struggling to articulate herself. "I would never make you do somethin' you didn' wanna, Daryl. You can tell me no, you always can."

The corner of his mouth does that little tugging thing like he wants to smirk but feels like he would look like a dick so he flattens it instead. "Who says I don't wanna touch you 'ere?"

"Do you?" She asks breathlessly.

His eyes hold onto hers as he uses his thumb and pushes her jean button through the hole. The fabric releases around her waist, giving at the front so that he can dance the rough pads of his fingers down her worn panties. She can't stand to look at him when he's touching her like this but she can't stand to look away either, biting her lip instead. The depth of her breathing declines and she struggles to hide how wound up she is by his hesitant fingers making acquaintance with her damp curls. He sucks in a breath, his cheeks flushing as their eyes remain connected and when his fingers slide down her slit, she can't bear it any longer and squeezes her eyes shut.

In the darkness of the back of her eyelids, the sensations between her legs grow from a dull ember to a roaring inferno, his forefinger bumping over her swollen, damp clit. Beth's moan catches in her throat, her head tipping back and her lips parting as Daryl's mouth touches down on her collarbones. His lips kiss and nibble there, raising a network of goose bumps as his fingers grow a little more confident and slide deeper, encouraged further by the thick wetness he finds dripping out of her. She chokes on another moan, tugged by arousal and embarrassment, vulnerable with exposure.

"Daryl… God…"

"Y're so… wet," he whispers in amazement. "S'that…" he pauses to lightly suck at her skin, making her spine arch as the feeling slides right down to her nipples. "Cause'a me?"

"Yes," she gasps, arching her hips to make room for his hand. "There, please," she begs.

"Here?"

She whimpers under her breath again as his fingers dance around her clutching hole. She doesn't think he means to be a tease, just that he wants to be sure before he does something but she becomes too impatient and reaches down to take his hand. When she takes two of his meaty fingers and presses them inside her, he growls deep and low. Beth moans back, body flushing as her pussy stretches for his fingers and then grips tight once more, clutching fiercely.

"Jesus." He presses the word deep into her throat as his mouth climbs there, taking her lips in a kiss that burns throughout her body.

There's no more shame left in her movements as heat swallows her, her desperate hips bouncing on his fingers and her own finger reaching down to roll over her clit. Daryl's mouth detaches from hers to look down at both their hands working her cunt, pushing the blanket away so he can see clearer. With how fast her hips ride their combined efforts, her pussy greedy for the pleasure sparking in her womb and through her veins, she has to close her eyes again against the intensity of it all. She can barely keep her moans contained, biting on her bottom lip to cage her noises, knowing Daryl's avidly watching.

The orgasm winds tight in her belly, clutching harder at Daryl's fingers, swelling her clit beneath her own until she's gripping Daryl's forearm with her free hand and chanting deliriously, "m'gonna cum, m'gonna… m'gon-"

All her noises choke off as the next delicious thrust of Daryl's driving fingers in her wet depths sends her spiralling over the edge. The noise he makes when he feels the gush of fluids pour down his fingers and palm into his hand is destructive to her heart rate, sending it into a rapid flutter. The speed of his fucking decreases but the depth doesn't and every push into her steals her breath, her whole body trembling with delicious aftershocks until she has to grip his wrist and tug him away. He whispers an apology as her thighs falls closed on their clasped, damp hands covered in her cum.

"S'okay, I liked it," she whispers in a promise. "S'just sensitive. Been so long."

He hums against her cheek as he presses his mouth there for a kiss. "I er, I like doin' that. Touchin' you."

Another surprised smile steals across her lips and this time she doesn't feel the urge to cry when she laughs, like she doesn't deserve to be happy. "I like touchin' you too. You touchin' me. I like it all." After she says it she laughs in embarrassment and presses her face to his chest with a groan. "Oh God, listen to me. I sound like a horny teenager."

"Then I mus' sound like a horny old pervert," he rumbles, on the edge of laughter.

She rolls her eyes as she pulls away to look at him. "Don't do that. Don't doubt this. S'just us now, member? There's no one left to care."

His eyes are more serious when he connects them with hers and he doesn't answer her, but to press a tender kiss to her forehead. Beth sighs as she wraps her arms around him and she enjoys the quiet as they hug each other tightly, acknowledging all they've lost and accepting all they've found.