Chpt 7: Faith

Beth is walking the fences. Killing walkers. She practices stabbing them through the eye, straight on, like Daryl taught her. She sees a smaller one. Even with most of its hair gone and the skin over its cranium melting away, she can tell it was a female. A petite female much like her. It's snapping and snarling against the metal. Arms reaching through the chain link. Beth watches it for a second. Turns her shoulder toward the fence and scoots a little closer. The frenzied walker stretches further, nails scraping against Beth's arm. Beth takes a deep breath. Flips her knife to strike from the side. Edges closer to the fence. It's shocking how strong they are, even in an advanced state of decay. Beth allows the walker to grab her arm. Drag her toward the fence. She bends her knees, centers her weight, and strikes. A wide arc that buries the blade deep into the walker's temple. Beth recovers her knife, and the walker falls with a satisfying thump.

" 'At's good."

Beth turns to see Daryl standing behind her with a smug, closed-lip smile on his face.

"Thanks. I had a good teacher."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Beth giggles.

"Keep practicin', girl."

Beth turns back to the walkers. "Yes, sir, Mr. Dixon," she hollers over her shoulder. She full on laughs when she hears him growl. Sees him throw his hand in the air and flick his wrist at her while he's striding away. She strikes from every direction. Dancing on her toes. Hopping and stabbing. By the time she's done, she's covered in walker spew and thoroughly exhausted. She briefly considers grabbing a bite to eat before heading to the shower. Reconsiders when Carl wrinkles his nose at the sight of her.

The showers nearest cell block C are housed in a large, open, tile and concrete room. The room itself is divided into twelve stalls, six on each outside wall. The center wall essentially splits the room into two halves. It's lined with six sinks and six mirrors on each side. They've hung two blankets from that center wall, one stretching to each corner of the double entry doors. Women's showers to the right, men's to the left. Beth throws back the blanket to the women's and strips on her way to the stall. She rinses under the hot water until it runs clear at her feet. The shampoo they have does nothing for the frizz or the tangles. It smells like men's deodorant. But it gets her hair clean, so she doesn't complain. They even have razors. And shaving cream. And hot, running water. Nope, no complaints from her.

She finishes her shower, wraps herself up in a towel and heads for the sinks. Before she can even apply the plain peroxide paste to her toothbrush, Maggie and Glenn fall through the blanket. They're completely tangled up in one another. Hands and lips are everywhere. Glenn walks Maggie backwards toward the shower stall, tugging at her clothes along the way. They never even see Beth by the sinks. When Glenn turns on the shower head, and Maggie squeals in surprise, Beth makes her escape. She hot-foots it over to the men's side to finish up. She listens before she pulls back the blanket. No running water. No sound at all. So, she slips through… And slams straight into Daryl. Straight into Daryl's naked chest to be more precise. He's standing there in front of her, hands on her shoulders from where he caught her, wearing nothing but a towel. Thank goodness that towel is secure around his waist.

"Oh!" Beth squeaks.

Daryl drops his hands and freezes. Except for his eyes. They travel the length of Beth, head to toe, and back. Beth shivers even though her shower was hot, and the room is humid. She crosses her arms over her chest and bunches the towel that's wrapped around her tightly in her fists.

"I'm sorry. Maggie and Glenn… They're ah…" She points her thumb over her shoulder.

Daryl looks past Beth and hums under his breath. He scowls then moves over to the sink, seemingly unaffected by a towel clad Beth. Except for the tips of ears. They're red hot where they poke out from beneath his wet hair. Beth scoots past him and disappears into the last stall.

Daryl grabs the sink and leans into it. Watches his knuckles turn white. The cold water he splashes on his face does little to simmer him down. But it does kick him in gear. He quickly pulls his jeans on, hoists his shirt over his shoulders, and sits down on the bench with his boots.

"Daryl? You dressed," she calls.

"Yeah, I'm good."

When Beth sees him again, he's pulling on his boots. Wearing his long-sleeved button down, but it's hanging open, completely undone. She's so pleased to get another quick glimpse of those abs when he stands up. It's all she can do not to cross the room and help him with those buttons.

"Feel better," he asks.

Beth's eyes snap from his abs to his eyes. "What?"

"After yer shower? Ya' worked hard today."

"Right. Yeah. I'll feel better after I eat. You hungry?"

TWD

Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, and a couple of guys from Woodbury are scheduled to head out on a run in the morning. They're going to the Big Spot, a couple of hours or more north of the prison.

Beth is putting Judith down for the night in Rick's cell. He and Carl will be taking care of her little girl tonight. Daryl is waiting for her in the hall.

"Hey," she says with a smile.

"Hey. Feel like a walk?"

Her smile grows exponentially in reply.

They walk out to the courtyard. The silence between them easy. Familiar. Comforting. They head toward the corner of the yard.

"Big run tomorrow, huh."

"Yeah. Might be gone overnight. Just depends on how it goes."

Beth nods. She is trying her best to be brave, but she'd be lying if she said she was okay with Daryl being gone overnight. Even just one night. She can't tell him that though. Can't have him feeling guilty for going on a run. She tucks a timid hand under his bicep wanting nothing more than to feel him alive and breathing by her side. When he doesn't pull away, Beth relaxes against him.

"If I close one eye and peak through that chain-link," she says and points toward the fence in front of them. The only barrier between them and the tributary that runs parallel to the prison. "I can almost pretend like we're back at the farm. Down by the creek… We're goin' fishin' for supper…" Her words fade as she disappears into her own imagination. He can hear the longing in her voice. Can feel it in his heart. Fishing, with her, on the farm is exactly where he would choose to be right now if he could.

Beth is lost in her daydream. Doesn't even realize what she's doing when she slides her free hand over his elbow and hugs his arm to her chest. Nestles into his warmth. Her temple lands softly against his bicep. "Daryl?"

"Hmmm?"

"Promise me you'll do everything you can to get yourself back home ta' us... ta' me."

He reaches over and covers her hand with his. Beth doesn't look at him. She can't. It's too much. Too big. She isn't sure what she just admitted too. Not certain what those two extra words, "to me", may have cost them both.

"Yeah… I promise."

They stand together for a bit longer. Meander through the yard talking about this and that until Daryl feels a little shiver run through her. "Better get back in. 'S getting' chilly out here."

They hold on to each other until they reach the door. Not yet ready to let the world in on their blossoming secret, Beth lets go of his arm and they head inside. Daryl has his hands in his pockets and Beth has hers crossed over her chest. They walk the long hall together to her cell. He stops at the door and leans against the frame. Knows it's probably best to keep himself on this side of the threshold for now. "You didn't put anything on the list fer me ta' look for tomorra'."

She shakes her head. "I gave Maggie a list. Just a few girly things. Other than that, I don't really need anything. I brought a backpack with me from the farm, remember," she teases. "You got the list for Judith, right? She's gonna' need some things when the seasons change. She's growin' so much. Teethin'. And we can always use any kind of baby food for her. Formula. She's gonna need one of those bouncy seat things too. And a swing if you can find it. Seems like every day there's somethin' new happenin' with her…" She knows she's rambling. But she can't seem to make herself stop. Maybe she's afraid he'll turn and leave as soon as she stops talking. Maybe she's saying anything and everything to keep from saying the one thing she desperately wants to say to him. She's not even sure she can put what she wants to tell him into words. Not sure there's even a word in the English language that properly describes how she feels about him.

She's still maundering when he pushes off the doorframe and ambles over to her. He grabs her hands. Stills them from their wild flutterings. Beth freezes. She can't look at him. If she does, she'll ask him not to go. Maybe even beg him to stay, here, with her. But that wouldn't be fair. Not to him or to their family. So, she focuses on his hands. Wonders at the size of them. At how they completely envelop hers. His fingertips are rough. His palms calloused and warm.

She feels his lips on her hairline. Pressing into her skin for the briefest moment. He understands. She doesn't have to say anything. He squeezes her wrists to let her know he gets it. Ghosts his forehead against hers before turning to leave. Beth is left staring at her fingers, past the space where his hands covered hers. Her heart is pounding, and her vision blurs. She doesn't even realize she's crying until a fat water droplet plops into her palm. She remembers to breath. A quick breath followed by a sob. She falls on her bed and buries her head in her pillow. Calling on her faith, she prays for him. For him and for Maggie and Michonne, for the men from Woodbury who will be going with them. She cries and she prays until she falls asleep. When she wakes in the morning, her boots are off her feet and on the floor by her bed. She is tucked in under her extra blanket. And Daryl and the others are gone.

TWD

It's been five days and there is still no sign of them. She heard Glenn crying last night when she was walking with Judith. It was all she could do not to break down right along with him. Carol keeps saying they probably had to lay low. "Just taking their time. Playing it smart. You'll see. They'll be back before you know it." She pats Beth's arm and gives her a reassuring smile. But it doesn't make it to her eyes. Beth catches her staring off past the fence. Searching. Rick and the others are doing the same when they think no one else is looking. Everyone is quiet. Existing on bated breath. Beth is in the commons at sundown, feeding Judith, when Carol comes rushing in.

"It's the suburban! Their back!"

Beth adjusts Judith in her lap. Wipes her face and hands hastily and heads for the yard. She and Carol push their way to the front of the group that has gathered to welcome their people home. To see who has survived the run and who has not.

The Suburban is stopped just inside the gate. All four doors are open, and the back hatch is up. Glenn and Maggie are hugging, rocking back and forth in each other's arms. Rick is standing close to Michonne, talking with her and Carl. Beth's eyes are darting back and forth, from person to person, but she doesn't see him. She doesn't see his motorcycle either. The expectant smile she's wearing slips from her face. Judith suddenly feels like she weighs a thousand pounds. Carol has her arm around Beth's shoulder, a hand on each bicep. Her grip is crushing. She doesn't see him either.

Rick and Michonne are smiling when he stops and takes Judith from Beth's arms. Beth looks to Rick. Desperate for a clue as to where Daryl might be. He doesn't say a word. Takes Judith. Keeps on smiling. Beth wants to scream. How can he be laughing with Michonne? Where the hell is Daryl? Beth is starting to feel lightheaded. Nauseous. Then Carol breaks away from her. Walks toward the suburban with a quickened pace. Not quite a jog, not quite a stroll. That's when Beth sees it. Someone has closed the driver's side doors. She can see a single tire peeking out from behind the back bumper. She leans forward, but her feet won't move. Seeing the motorcycle isn't enough. She needs to see him. Needs to feel his skin under her fingers. Feel his heart beating beneath her ear. Carol is patting him on the back. All smiles when they round the corner. At the sight of him, Beth's feet decide to work. She takes off toward him. Carol sees her. Gives Daryl a little shove in Beth's direction and squats down to look through the Big Spot haul.

Daryl makes a bee-line for Beth. Eyes locking on hers. Pulling her toward him with an invisible force. His arms band about her waist. Hers fly around his neck, seeking purchase in the leather on his shoulders. He sinks into her. Bone tired and weary.

Beth pulls back from him, just enough to whisper in his ear. "You're late… I was worried."

He squeezes her a little tighter before easing her back to her feet. She cradles his face in her hands. Hates how her voice trembles. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, and Beth's hands fall back to his chest. 'I'm a'ight… That boy from Woodbury. The one that was always smilin' at ya?"

"Zach?"

"Yeah…" He doesn't say anything more. Simply wills her to understand.

"He dead?"

Daryl nods.

"What happened," she asks before she can stop herself.

"Half a walker on the floor. The bitin' half. Grabbed 'im. Pulled 'im down..." He finishes with a shrug.

"Nothin' you coulda' done, Daryl… I'm glad I got to know him"

"Yeah… Me too. 's a funny kid. Thought I was 'a undercover cop or some shit, 'fore the turn."

"He what?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Long story," he says. "I'll tell ya' later."

Beth studies his face. She's surprised by the amount of grief she finds there. "You okay," she asks him again.

"Just tired of losin' people 'sall."

Beth can only nod. She gets it. It's an understanding they all share.

"Come on," she says and starts walking backwards away from him. "Let's get you somethin' to eat."

He catches up with her in two long strides. Beth's stomach drops, but in the very best way, when Daryl reaches for her hand. She laces their fingers together. Gives his hand a squeeze for good measure. When they reach the door, he lets her hand go. Holds the door open for her. The look he gives her is an apology. But Beth is having none of it. She smiles back at him warmly. She understands this too. He isn't a fan of the public display. Neither is she, if she's being honest. She has never liked the way Maggie and Glenn put their relationship out there on exhibit.

Daryl grabs a seat on the bench across from Michonne. They're both worn out and hungry. Beyond grateful to be home.

In the kitchen, Beth finds Rick putting together a plate of spaghetti for Michonne. "You better make you a plate too, Rick. Gotta' eat." He passed on supper again earlier tonight. It didn't go unnoticed by Beth. She quietly keeps an eye on everybody in the family. Looks for opportunities to make their life easier anyway she can. Rick chuckles under his breath and grabs another plate from the clean stack. He reckons he feels like eating tonight after all.

Beth slides in next to Daryl, and Rick plops down in a chair next to Michonne. They learn what happened on the run between bites of spaghetti, mostly from Michonne. It's hard for Beth to concentrate when Daryl is pressing his thigh against hers. She wonders if he even realizes he's doing it. When he wipes his hands on his jeans, and the one nearest her, lands on her knee, she figures he knows exactly what he's doing. Michonne is saying that they ran into a small herd on the way. Had to fall back and wait for the horde to pass. They took a different route back because of all the makeshift roadblocks they encountered on their way there. All in all, it costs them three extra days to maneuver the unknowns. But the take was worth it. They found everything on their lists and then some. They've already discussed another run, and soon. Beth can see Carol and the others organizing all the new supplies at the other end of the commons. They must have had the suburban packed to the gills.

"Gonna' take a shower. Hit the hay," Daryl says and reaches for his empty plate. Beth grabs it up first, along with the other two. Michonne dittos his plan and the four disperse. They could all use a good night's sleep.

Beth didn't expect to see him again tonight. She's tucked under her covers, finally able to rest now that her family is whole again. She doesn't exactly hear him. It's more like she feels him when he shows up at her door. Her eyes flutter open to find him leaning against the metal frame. She sits up and smiles.

"Didn' mean ta' wake ya'."

"You didn't. Come on in."

Daryl walks in and leans his bottom against the desk. He tosses a folded, knit sweater onto the surface next to him. It's dark purple. Looks big and soft. Beth crosses the tiny space and picks it up. Yep. It's oversized with a wide neck and fitted sleeves. Super soft too. It's perfect. "Thank you, Daryl."

Daryl nods. Beth is fascinated by the flush of pink that paints his ears. She suspects he picked it out himself with her in mind. She's gonna' assume that's the case anyway.

"Yer sister get all yer stuff?"

"Yes, thank you"

"Good…" Daryl pulls something from his pocket. He fools around with it in his hand. Running it back and forth between his fingers. He's nervous. A little twitchy.

"What 'cha got there," Beth asks.

"I uh… I grabbed this fer ya'," he says and passes her a little strip of leather.

Beth takes it and flips it over. It's a leather bracelet. The kind you find on the spinner rack at the gas station. It has two press button clasps on the back side. On the front, a delicate vine and single-leaf pattern has been pressed into the leather. It runs diagonally, above and below the word, "Faith". Beth's hand flies to her mouth. The beauty is in its simplicity, in its meaning. She is speechless.

"I was gonna' look for one with yer name on it, but yer always talkin' about havin' faith and shit..."

Beth clasps it around her wrist. Trembling fingers set to work on the button press. She shakes her head and sniffs. Realizes she's crying again in front of him.

When she looks up, his eyes are as wide as she has ever seen them. An alluring array of blues swirl together with the smokey gray she's become so used to seeing. He visibly relaxes when she whispers, "it's perfect." Honestly, Beth isn't sure if she's commenting on his eyes or the bracelet. Maybe both. Yes, definitely both. Because both are perfect.

Daryl shifts off the desk and steps into Beth. Runs his fingers the length of the playful braid that shapes the side of her face. He breaths her name… "Beth," like a prayer. Skims his knuckles across the apple of her cheek. Beth's eyes slip closed as he leans in. Presses his lips to hers. Featherlight. They're rough and chapped. He tastes like mint toothpaste with just the hint of something foreign. Something new and inviting. When he starts to pull away, Beth grabs the hem of his shirt, rises to her toes. Chases his lips with hers. They press together again, and Daryl wraps his arms around her middle. Snugs her flush against him. Beth's hands go to his neck. The push and pull of their lips. The give and take of their tongues. It's somehow too much and yet not enough, all at once. A quiet little moan escapes from the back of Beth's throat. It startles them both and they reluctantly part. But only their lips. Their foreheads rest against one another as they catch their breath.

"Beth," he says again. His voice husky and deep. She can feel her name, so gravelly is his voice. She can feel it as plainly as she hears it. She leans back to see his face. Brushes his bangs from his eyes. A thing she's been itching to do for far too long now.

He's watching her. Searching her eyes. Beth allows it. Knows he needs time to process. She is patient. More than happy to take things slow. Exceedingly slow if that is what it takes. She smiles softly. Thinks about the kisses they've just shared. Her eyes drop to his lips. She is floating toward them when something in his expression changes. It's subtle, but it's definitely there. He lets go of her waist. Steadies her on her feet. Something's wrong. Beth's pulse quickens. Rushes in her ears. He's overthinking it. Something inside of her is screaming. A warning. He's talking himself out of it. Out of them. He's gonna' run. She can feel it.

"Beth, I got no right... This ain't right…"

He pulls away from her. Starts backing toward the door. The pain that flashes in his eyes and skitters across his face is brief, but unmistakable. He looks utterly miserable.

Beth reaches for him. "Wait… Daryl, what are ya' talkin' about? What's not right?"

"Kissin' ya' like that. Touchin' ya'." He hurls his words at her like shrapnel. "The things I done, Beth. I can't account for half the shit I done. The people I hurt…" His voice is at a pitch she's never heard from him before. His hands are flying everywhere. Up around his head. Then down by his sides. He turns away from her. Pauses before shucking his shoulders and heading toward the door.

Beth dashes around him. Tries to stop him with two hands on his chest. His heart is pounding. Hers matches its pace. "Daryl, stop." He tries to side-step her, but she isn't having it. "Stop!"

He freezes. Just like that. Still as a statue. Beth is in his space. Hands flat against his chest. "Daryl," she says. Tries to coax him into looking at her, but he won't. His eyes jump from the wall over her shoulder to his boots, then to the door, the ceiling, anywhere but her. "Daryl," she tries again. Softer this time. She slides her hand to his face. Gently runs her thumb the length of his jaw. "Look at me, please."

He does, but he's tense and rigid. No part of him touches her. "I don't care who you were before the world went to shit. You're a different person now, Daryl. You're a good person. Everything you've done since I met ya' has been for the good of somebody ya' care about… Carin' about people ain't easy. I get that. But, here's a little secret… you're really good at it."

Daryl shakes his head. Backs away from her again. Turns his shoulder to her. "You think yer daddy's gonna' be okay with this? Huh? Maggie? Rick and the others? You think their gonna' be okay with 'a piece 'a shit like me tryin' to be with you?"

Beth takes a small step toward him, lets him keep his space. Knows he needs room to pace. Room to breathe. When she opens her mouth, she's calmer. Gives it to him straight. "That ain't you talkin', Daryl. That's a ghost from somewhere in yer past. You ain't 'a piece 'a shit and you know it. My daddy loves you. So does Maggie… so do I."

He drags his eyes from the ceiling and hazards a glance in her direction. Beth eases towards him. Takes a hold of his forearm and presses her forehead to his bicep. Eyes closed, she drags in a deep breath. Re-groups. Lifts her head and eases her other hand around his elbow. She steps closer. Hugs is arm to her chest and leans into him. "I'm gonna' need ya' ta' have a little faith, Daryl. Trust me on this. You and me. We're one of the good things to come out of all this hell. Like Judith. Like Maggie and Glenn. We're precious and rare. We're worth fightin' for. But I can't do it without ya'."

He huffs. It almost sounds like a sob. She can feel him thinking. Can see his fingers curling and uncurling into fist. He's calming down. Eventually, his hand relaxes completely at his side. She feels his weight shift to the hip she's leaning against. "Faith, huh?"

Beth looks up at him. His eyes are glossy in the faint light of the cell. He turns into her. Tucks her hair behind her ear. "Ain't gonna' be easy. I can be a real 'sum bitch sometimes."

Beth nods and tries to keep from smiling. "I'm aware of that, Mr. Dixon."

"Don't start that shit," he grouses.

Beth does smile then. "You gonna' shut me up, Mr Di…"

His lips on hers does exactly that. She feels him smile against her when she giggles. The kiss is long but chaste. A hard press against her lips. A promise.

"What the hell am I gonna' do with you, girl?"

Beth shrugs and smiles. She likes the weight of his hands, heavy on her hips. "One day at a time. That's all I'm askin'"

Daryl nods. Plants a quick kiss on her forehead and backs away. Only this time he's smiling. Backing away slowly like he'd rather stay than go. "G'night, sweetheart."

Beth is so struck by the pet-name, she barely has time to respond. "G'night," she whispers and draws her lip between her teeth.

She falls into bed, exhausted and happy. Feels like only the sweetest of dreams awaits her

A/N: Whew! That was along one. Thanks for reading!