Beth didn't have a lot of time to be mad, but for a few moments, she was livid. Her face went red and her vision blurred, she also considered throwing the drink in Merle's stupid, laughing face. She even felt a little sick for a moment. Then the phone rang and the brunette woman excused herself from the chaos that was likely to unfold. Beth's anger continued to boil.

How could she have been so stupid? They were in a bar and she didn't for a second think there was alcohol in the glass? She could try blame that on her dazed confusion from the sun and her tumble. But it was her own naivety that made her maybe there were still a few pure things left in the world; like a caring pregnant woman offering you a glass of water.

Through Beth blurred vision she could make out the woman handing Merle the phone. She heard him say Daryl's name - or rather she thought he called him Darylina. Their conversation was a short one before Merle let out a slightly devious laugh, and looked at her. "Blondie, you're gonna wanna finish the rest of that." Then Merle hung up the phone.

"Wha- what do you mean?!" Beth had asked as she found her voice. He'd known something that he thought was going to win him whatever fight he thought they were in.
Merle smiled. "Your truck is fucked, Princess. Good luck."

Beth guessed Merle wanted to rile her up. But the reaction she gave him was definitely not that. She simply sat on the bar stool nearest to her, and began bawling.

For the passed two days, she'd been doing everything thing in her power to get the truck fixed and get her ass to Florida. And now, it was all for nothing? All the lying and all the fighting and all planning, it was useless; and it wasn't fair.

Then there was her father's poor truck. It was one of the last things she had of him. Was it really done for? After everything else she'd done, she guessed she didn't deserve to have even a piece of him.

Now there she was with Daryl, unable to stop her stupid crying, and suddenly feeling a little woozy as Merle and the brunette woman fled the bar. She knew Daryl probably wasn't sure what to say or to do. He probably wanted to follow Merle and that woman. But he still just stood there and watched her stupid ass cry.

Beth wasn't sure if it was because of the booze, or because he was there, or because she - for whatever reason - trusted him. But he was going to find out sooner or later when her mother came tearing into town. "I'm so screwed."

"What?" He asked.

"I'm so screwed." She spoke up.

Daryl gave her a confused look and she couldn't help herself.

"My mom thinks I'm in Florida and has no faith that I can take care of myself. My friends and sister are lying for me for nothing. And my head it fuzzy; and I don't know if I like it or hate it." Beth blurted out all at once. "Oh, and when my mom finds out I've been lying to her I'll never be allowed out of her sight, let alone my house ever again."

Beth could hear Daryl take in a deep breath of air. She looked over to him and saw he was walking toward her until he was right in front her stool. Without saying anything he picked up the glass of vodka and handed to her. "The way I dealt with crazy parents was drinking. Not the best solution. But it's something."

"I don't wanna drink." Beth placed the glass back where it belonged and paused. "My Daddy drank."

Daryl shrugged. "The world isn't a perfect place." He wasn't wrong; that was for damn sure. "But...I don't think you're gonna have to be locked in a house forever."

"What?" Beth looked up and watched him pick up the glass one more time, this time drinking from it himself.

"If you want, I can order one and put a new engine in. But it costs more than what the damn things worth."

"How...how long would it take?" Beth sniffed and wiped her nose.

"'Bout two weeks to get here. Maybe a little longer."

Dammit. That was more time than she had to spare. But she didn't honestly care at that point. She cared more about not getting caught, and proving to herself and anyone else that doubted her that she was not the same helpless little girl she was before.

…Trips always got extended.

"Okay." Beth replied to Daryl. "Do it."

"You know how much an engine costs though right?" Daryl raised his brow at her.

Beth shook her head. She had the cash from her mom and what little she had saved. But would it be enough for an engine and whatever payment she'd owe the Dixons?

"It's over two grand with shipping."

Beth's eyes welled again and she felt like she'd been punched in the gut. No, she definitely didn't have enough money for that. Which meant she was back where she began. Screwed.

Daryl took one look at Beth's tears and took a long sip of the vodka. He spoke calmly but Beth could tell he was a little freaked out. "What now?"

"I – I …" She tried not to let her voice shake, but she couldn't help herself; and before she could get the rest of her sentence out, Beth burst into tears once more. But, this time, they were loud, agonising tears.

. . .

Daryl had been trying to react as calmly as possible to Beth's tears. But as soon as she began wailing, he could no longer keep his cool. At that point, he would of much rather a wild drunken teenager than whatever the booze was doing to her. He knew how to deal with wild from his brother. But sadness was never something he could get a hang of.

"WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR?!" Daryl didn't exactly mean to yell, but that's how it came out.

"I – I'm sorry…" Beth snivelled in between her tears. "I – I CAN'T HELP IT! I DON'T HAVE THE MONEY."

God. He'd seen this girl go through almost every emotion in the book and he'd barely known her a whole day. He'd seen her what he could only imagine was her highest point, and he prayed that this was her lowest.

How could one person be so fucked up?

Well, actually he knew a few reasons why; he'd witnessed a few of the reasons up close and personal. Dealing with a loss of a parent – or the loss of someone you love – it could nearly drive a person crazy. He himself had dragged himself through the gutter more than once to try to save someone from themselves, with almost little to no success. But even with that deterring him, he still felt such an immense need to want to help her.

Daryl sighed. "A friend of mine works at that diner across from the motel. If you give me the down payment, I'll order the part and you can pay me before you leave."

Daryl watched as Beth stifled her tears. She opened her mouth to speak to him, but all that came out was a little echo of a wail and then a small hic. She tried again one more time, but all that came out was: hic, hic, hic.

He tried not to laugh. It was a little pathetic, but pretty damn funny. "I'm going to take that as a yes?"

Beth covered her mouth with both hands as she continued to hiccup before she gave him a quick nod; and although he couldn't a lot of her face, he could see her eyes sparkled and her cheeks lift with a smile.