Daryl poured the vodka on to the cut, and took a deep pull a deep pull from the bottle himself as she howled out in pain. By now the adrenaline had worn off and she was feeling the full effect of the what had happened – and probably wishing she'd gone to the damn hospital. Neither of their priorities had been straight though. The cabin was far less equipped than he had remembered. During one of Merle's bender, he'd been drinking any and everything in sight, therefore, the rubbing alcohol had been poured down the drain. He was surprised at home much gauze they when through and the looks of it, she probably could use a couple real stitches. However, the best he had was tiny Steri-Strips.

After her first howl, Beth tried her best to sit silently on the kitchen counter as he cleaned her up. But, she kept sniffing, and from the corner of his eye Daryl could see her free arm reaching up to brush away her tears. "I know what you're going to say?" Beth choked out, trying to hide her distress.

Daryl raised his eyebrow, but didn't look up at her.

"You're going to say that I'm an idiot, that I should have known better and that I can't go around mouthing dangerous people off," Beth did in fact list everything he was thinking, but added: "and I'm lucky to be alive."

"Do you think…" Daryl started, unable to stop himself, "…do you think you're lucky to be alive?"

He didn't look up, but could feel her gaze lock on to him. "Why would you say that?"

It was a question that had rolled around in his head even before Jax showed up and did was he did. How many times had he seen it before? Though she tried her best, she always seemed stuck in her own mind. For her, it was a world she'd created where the dead haunted her and the living where an inconvenience to her self-pity. Beth could not have been so sheltered to have thought that, when drugs and gangs were involved, things weren't messy and people didn't fight dirty. She knew of the consequences, yet still opened way for destruction. So, he couldn't help but wonder, did she really want to be alive. Sometimes it only took moment for the decision to live or die to be made.

It was as easy as mouthing off…or leaving a cigarette lit while you fall asleep in an empty house.

"Forget I said it." Daryl dismissed her question. "Hold still."

"Thank you…" Beth said to him. "For always taking care of me."

For whatever reason, that was what set him off. Her thanking him. Daryl snapped his head up as soon as the last strip was placed and glared at her. "I shouldn't have to take care of you like this, Beth. If you had kept your goddamn mouth shut you wouldn't have been bleeding all across the fucking bar and my kitchen!"

"I SAID I KNOW!" Beth didn't even bother to keep her composer. "I MADE A MISTAKE AND I DIDN'T MEAN FOR YOU TO PAY FOR IT!"

"WELL I AM!" Daryl yelled back. "YOU SCARED THE HELL OUT OF ME!"

Beth couldn't find it in herself to respond. She'd stop crying and whimpering, and she was now just staring blankly at him. That is, until she remembered the bottle of vodka, and reached over for it. "Might as well make better use of it."

"Don't you think you should clean the rest of yourself up?" Daryl couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. It was a common thing whenever they fought, but even more so as he eyed over the stains covering her shirt and skirt.

"You might be right."

Beth shrugged nonchalantly, as if the last hour hadn't just happened, and her arm was not in pain from the movement. Without another word, she set down the vodka and peeled off her tank top. Then, not wasting a single beat, the bottle was back in her hands and she was tipping the contents into her mouth. Daryl reached and grabbed the it from her, scared she may drink the entire thing in one go if she could. All she did was give him a bratty look and lean against the cabinets behind her. Daryl rolled his eyes, and took a sip himself. He couldn't very well keep yelling at her. All he could do was plan for shit storm that was to come – and try not to notice as Beth slipped one of her bra straps off her shoulder.

"Are you done playing hero?" Beth laughed, trying to clear the awkward air now surrounding them. Daryl knew exactly what he was going to see when he tipped the bottle back down. It was her favourite tact, because always worked.

She was still sitting, leaning against the cabinet behind her, but she was now playing with her hair – twirling it between her fingers. It wasn't in the nervous way she used to play with it, however. No, this had a whole other meaning. It was something he looked for in a crowded room or even at home on the couch. It was a signal. A signal he was reading completely right as she moved her thighs ever so slightly apart from one another.

"Depends." Daryl rolled his eyes and set the vodka down beside her. Then he stepped into her, pushing her thighs further apart, so her legs were dangling around him. "You done being a pain in my ass?"

"Never." Beth shook her head. Daryl couldn't help but smirk at her. She knew how to be enticing, even after a near death experience – and if he didn't know any better, he'd say it what brought on the ravenous look in her eyes. Long had she passed being the scared offspring of bible banger and become someone who knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and how she was going to get it.

Daryl looked her up and down before he slipped his hands around her hips and forcefully jerked her body into his. Beth tried to giggle but was cut off by his lips dancing against hers, mixed with hard, almost feral like nips as his want and need for her body grew stronger. He could feel her tugging at his shirt, as his fingers laced around her neck and his thumb tipped her chin back, his free hand on the counter on the counter for balance as they became more entangled. He could feel the quickness of her pulse as he kissed the free space he'd created, and couldn't help but feel a certain level of satisfaction that he'd been the only one to ever make her feel that way.

"Fuck." Beth whispered, her body now trembling.

She flicked her eyes at him, trying to anticipate his next move, and influence it. However, Daryl had his own plan. He was filled with a sort of rage. An indignation Jax had created, and that Beth had so carelessly added to. He was a better man than his father, and would never take it out on her in a way that would leave her broken and hopeless. But, he would use her to dispose of every negative feeling rolling around the incident, and she was going to enjoy every goddamn minute of it if he had anything to say about it.

Daryl pulled Beth off the counter suddenly and practically knocked the breath completely out of her from the surprise. But that will make it all the better. He turned her around so she was facing the counter – she was going to need something to hold on to – and dropped to his knew. Her underwear went down and he pulled the skirt. He could feel the change in her body as soon as he had his first taste. He dug his fingertips into the supple skin of her legs and her back arched. But, in a teasing manner, when he knew she couldn't take much more, he stood up. Beth tried to turn around, as if to ask him what he thought he was doing. But he pressed himself up against her and she was locked between him and the counter.

She didn't fight it. In fact, it gave her a few moments to catch the breath she'd been gasping for in her moments of pleasure. Daryl inched himself back, knowing she wasn't going anywhere, and undid his belt. When his pants were gone away with, he reached for her hair and wrapped it tightly in his fist. Her back arched into his abdomen as he pulled her blonde locks, and he could have sworn he heard her whisper something about heroes always getting a reward, before he eased himself into her.

Daryl's satisfaction only intensified when he noticed that Beth could hardly keep herself steady. Her hands kept slipping on the counter, from the heat and sweat pouring off her body. With ever stroke the tension in her body built, right along him. He knew her hips were continually hitting the edge, but by now he would have known if he cries were from pain. In the morning would dark bruising would likely appear. However, silently both had agreed it was an occupational hazard.

He wanted to make sure she came first. That when he was done with her she was dripping from what he had done to her, and what she had made him do. When his fingers found their way to her, he thought she might collapse before he could. But, then her body erupted in such a frenzy he knew he had accomplished his goal, and he allowed himself the same ecstasy.

He sent Beth straight to bed after, and relished in wavering of her steps he'd created. He went to work, dressing himself and cleaning up the disaster of gauze, vodka and blood. He was indeed far less angry, but no less guilty. After he was done cleaning, he joined her. She was already passed out in a mess of pillows and blankets that had somehow all become hers. Daryl however couldn't find sleep, even after everything. All he could do was sit awake and think about how she thanked him for something that couldn't require thanks if it wasn't for him. It really was his fault and his brother's that she was in any shape other than perfectly healthy. Every single step they'd mistook with Blake and Jax led to an almost fatal bar fight – and yet all she had was gratitude. And now she was in a completely new line of fire, with Jax not being done with them.

Daryl didn't know how long he was up for when Beth stirred. She rolled onto his chest, yawning, and snuggled herself in him. Daryl was about to wrap his arm around her, but then she murmured five words she must have thought she was saying only to his sleeping self and darkness:

"I love you."

AN: Welp. Okay that happened. Was that too much? I've never gone full smut before. I have never, nor will ever read or see 50 Shades...but someone tell me...was this too 50 Shade. Should I delete this entire chapter and pretend it didn't happen? HALP!