Beth tried to open her eyes. Had someone glued them shut? They felt like cement. Her face scrunched into an almost unrecognisable mask, she cracked them open. Where was she? The world around her seemed to be spinning. It took her a little while, through her heavy eyes, to recognise the bland, grey ceiling of her prison cell room. She was lying on her back in her bed, she realised, stretching her arms and fingers down either side of her, feeling the soft yet scratchy fabric beneath her.
Her head was pounding. She rolled over on to her side, feeling as though her entire body was filled with rocks. She felt sicker than she had ever felt before. Groaning aloud, she brought her hand to her face, kneading her eyes.
'He saved her life – again.' Glen's voice swam into Beth's consciousness. 'He's done it a few times now.'
'That doesn't mean he's good for her, just means she shouldn't be allowed out!' Beth heard her sister's voice now, sounding closer.
Beth pulled her blankets up over her head, trying to remember how she had ended up here.
. . .
Daryl wrapped his arm around Beth's waist, leading her out into the open. She stumbled out of the door, tripping over the threshold. Daryl grabbed her as her knees gave way, preventing her from tumbling to the ground. Maggie grabbed her, propping her arm up over her shoulders.
'Uh, guys.' Glen said, walking backwards beside them.
They turned to look over their shoulders, seeing at least twelve walkers heading their way.
'You two, take Beth back t' th' car.' Daryl grunted, gently letting go of Beth and hoisting his crossbow up towards his chest.
Glen took Daryl's place, helping walk Beth back towards the car.
. . .
Beth pulled the blanket down from her face. The memories were there, but they were fuzzy, coming back to her bit by bit through a clouded filter. She could remember being dragged back towards the car, spending most of her time looking at her own feet.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, feeling her stomach complain with the movement, the sickening motion of liquid swishing within her. She looked over towards the door in time to see Maggie's face appear.
'Morning sunshine,' she said softly, 'how are you feeling?'
'Awful.' Beth admitted.
'I'm so sorry,' Maggie said, biting the side of her lip, 'I shouldn't have let you drink.'
'You're not my keeper, Maggie,' Beth sighed, 'I make my own mistakes.'
Maggie was shaking her head.
'No. It was stupid and reckless. I'm sorry.'
'It's okay.' Beth said, letting her aching head fall back down on to her pillow. Everything hurt.
'Get some more sleep,' Maggie said, 'I told daddy you were sick – don't worry, he doesn't know why.'
Beth smiled at her sister, then shut her eyes. The light hurt them.
. . .
Maggie bundled Beth into the back of the car, laying her gently onto the seats.
'Can you drive?' she asked Glen.
'Yeah,' Glen said, 'I haven't had that much.'
Maggie nodded, climbing into the passenger seat beside Glen.
She turned around in her seat to look at her sister laying in the back of the car, her arms tucked beneath her head, her blonde hair sprawling over her face.
Maggie was terrified; if she brought Beth home drunk her father would string her up. Somehow they needed to sneak her in.
. . .
Beth rolled onto her side, facing the wall, curling herself into a foetal position, folding her arms across her stomach. She had woken groggy from an interrupted sleep plagued by the blurry faces of groaning walkers. She held her eyes screwed tightly shut, willing away the raging headache that was beating mercilessly against her temples as her stomach made low growling noises, reminding her of how idiotic she had been. They rarely had enough to eat around the prison and that had gotten worse with the woodbury arrivals, and Beth had never drunk anything at all before, let alone hard liquor. It had all been perfectly lined up for disaster from the off-set, but somehow she hadn't seen it.
It was the leather jacket, she told herself, it had made her feel older, cooler, more confident. Stupid.
After having rolled around in her bed for a while, she decided she needed water. Her throat felt like it was on fire, each breath dragged against her dry throat like sand in a storm. Her body felt weak with dehydration, her head pounding.
Slowly and carefully, she sat herself up, reaching for her jeans. Had she taken them off? She couldn't remember.
Great she though bitterly as she slowly drew them up her legs, I have to deal with shame as well as regret.
She found the jumper Daryl had picked out for her at the end of her bed. Gently, she picked it up, laying it in her lap across her thighs. It was so soft, the loosely knitted fabric, as she ran her hand over it. The fact Daryl had picked it out for her made it special some how, important. She felt a strange surge of pleasure.
Beth pulled it on over her head then threw her hair up into a messy bun. Slowly, feeling her tender stomach lurch, she pushed herself up and towards the door. She left her room, slowly wandering down the corridor. Her heart began to beat faster as she approached Daryl's door.
Feeling anxious and shy, she peeked into the room. It was empty.
Of course it was Beth sighed he doesn't just sit in his room all day.
Had he even come back? She suddenly thought. She frowned, trying to remember. He had left them to fend off the walkers, had he been alright?
Panic suddenly bit at Beth, turning her cold. She wrapped her arms around her middle, steadying herself.
Of course he came back. He's Daryl.
She forced herself to carry on, heading to the kitchen to find water. She met Carl on her way, he was heading out with Judith in his arms.
'Hey Beth,' he said, 'Maggie said you were sick.'
'I am sick,' Beth said, smiling at Judith, 'I just need some water.'
'Okay. I hope you feel better soon,' he said, bouncing Judith before walking away.
Beth thanked him then poured herself a glass of water, downing it all in one go before refilling it to take back with her. She hoped she wouldn't see anyone else.
. . .
Maggie helped Beth out of the back of the car, pulling Beth's arm over her shoulders again whilst wrapping her own arm around her waist.
'I'm going to take her straight to bed.' she said quietly to Glen. 'go and find my daddy. Keep him from seeing either of us.'
'How do I do that?' Glen asked, wide eyed. If Maggie was in trouble, he was in trouble too. It had all been his idea, there was no way he wouldn't own up to that. He couldn't let Maggie take blame she didn't deserve.
'Let me go in first,' he said, holding out a hand to stop Maggie, 'I'll make sure he's away from the cell block.'
Maggie nodded, allowing him to enter the prison ahead of her.
'What's going on?' Michonne, who had opened the gates for them, had been standing back, watching the three of them.
'Michonne,' Maggie winced, 'Beth's drunk. Please don't tell our daddy.'
To her surprise, Michonne laughed. She shook her head.
'Here, I'll help you take her in. We should go around the side, just in case.'
Maggie looked at Michonne, the usually so quietly reserved woman. Instead of asking questions, she just nodded, letting Michonne help prop Beth up.
'We just needed to let off some steam,' Maggie said, huffing a little under the dead weight of her sister.
'It's okay,' Michonne replied, 'you aint gotta explain yourself to me.'
Maggie nodded, grateful.
. . .
Beth was just about to walk back past Daryl's bunk when he stepped out of the room, making her jump. He was looking down at his hands, rubbing them together, before he looked up and noticed her. He stopped, seemingly as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
His hands and arms were covered in a mixture of mud and blood, as was his face. Beth glanced down to his boots, which were trailing mud behind him.
'Y'look like shit,' he said, looking Beth up and down.
She blushed deeply.
'I feel like shit,' she sighed.
'Si' down.' he said, gesturing to his cell.
Beth stood for a moment, the cool glass in one hand, biting her lip.
Then she nodded, walking ahead of him and into the dimly lit cell block.
'Ya feelin' rough?' Daryl asked, nodding towards his bed, which Beth gingerly sat on.
She nodded, sipping her drink.
Daryl sat down beside her, sighing.
'S'definitely wise to drink lots o' water,' he said, looking at her.
'Yeah,' Beth said. Her voice was deeper and huskier than usual. She cleared her throat, wincing at the pain and nausea that spread through her body at the movement.
'You'll be a'right tomorrow.' Daryl said.
Beth scooted herself back on his bed until she was leaning against the wall. She drooped her head back, looking up, then closed her eyes, sighing.
'It was such a stupid thing to do,' she sighed softly, keeping her eyes shut.
'Not your fault,' Daryl said, 'we should'a looked afta ya, should'a known better.'
'I'm not a child,' she said quietly. She found herself saying that a lot lately.
'I know.' Daryl said.
Beth opened her eyes a little and turned her head to look at him. His dark hair covered a lot of his eyes, but she could see him looking at her. She smiled. He gave her his guarded half smile back.
Beth, feeling weak and tired and sick, felt the overwhelming urge to be close to him, to be held by him.
'You been out hunting?' she asked in her new raspy voice, nodding down at his arms.
'Yeh,' he grunted, brushing some of the dirt from them. Beth watched as his hand ran over the sinewy length of his tanned forearm. The knot in her stomach tightened. He looked back up at her, catching her eye. Her head was still leant against the wall, tilted towards him.
She was pale, excruciatingly pale, and Daryl wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't about to throw up. There were deep, dark circles beneath her eyes and her cheeks were flushed, but the blue in her eyes were still sparkling. Her hair, pulled up atop her head, had fallen out in places, long strands of it falling down over her shoulders and lightly across her face. He couldn't help but smile at her. Even now, looking worse for wear and like she had been through hell and back, she was still the most beautiful thing he had seen in this godawful world. There was no denying that to himself any longer, not while she sat beside him on his bed, knees pulled up, arms draped lightly and innocently across them, leaving her hands to hang there in the air.
Daryl found his eyes sweeping the length of her body, noticing the way her slender legs curved towards her knees, the way her small feet, covered by only socks, rested on his mattress, making only the slightest indentation. Her pale hands hung over her knees, her nails well kept and shining. They lay there, open, inviting, the sleeves of her jumper falling down past her wrists. The jumper, he noticed, being the one he had picked out. It was baggy and looked warm and comfortable, but he couldn't help but see the way it lay over her chest, the way it curved down from the hollow of her neck, falling down to her waist.
He swallowed, trying to ignore the heat that was rising in his own cheeks. He looked to her face. Her head was leant against the wall so casually as though she relaxed there with him all the time. Her blue eyes, tired and darker than usual, were still looking at him. And her full, pink bottom lip was between her teeth again. He could see her gently chewing it. He tore his eyes away from her mouth, but her eyes were no better.
She blinked.
Beth could feel the sparks between them, the air was almost palpable. She watched his eyes wander over her, not knowing how to feel about it. She had known for some time now that her feelings for him were fast developing, but she had no idea whether he felt anywhere near the same. Yet the way his eyes slowly swept over her body as she sat so close to him offered her a tantalising thought.
Slowly, almost as if not to startle a wild beast, she turned her body to face him, bringing her legs down onto the bed. She inched closer to him, leaning forward on her hands which she placed on the bed only millimetres away from his thigh.
He was still looking at her, silent and still.
She moved closer, readjusting her body. There was no way Daryl would ever make a move with her, so while her heart hammered in her chest, beating so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack, she moved closer to him.
She saw him swallow, but then she also saw him run his tongue over his lip. It was a very subtle movement, barely noticeable, but Beth had noticed it.
She moved to him, her lips inches from his.
'Beth-' he breathed, his breath hot on her face, blowing against her lips.
Every inch of her felt like it was on fire. There was an almost burning passion within her now, a desperation that was almost making her delirious.
She kissed him.
Softly and gently, she pressed her lips to his, testing the waters. This time, though, she didn't pull away after a second. Instead, she moved one hand to his face.
And then it happened.
Daryl kissed her back.
He pressed his lips back against her own, readjusting himself to face her. He placed his hand on her waist, tilting his head towards her. His hand found its way to her head, lacing his fingers in her hair, he held the side of her head, his thumb stroking the fine hairs by her ear. He opened his mouth, moving what had started as a fairly innocent kiss into something much more.
Beth, overcome with feeling, kissed him back with just as much fervour as their tongues met. Her heart raced in her chest, her stomach flipping again and again and again as the heat in her body rose.
Beth had never been kissed like it before, she felt as though he was just as eager to explore her, to taste her, as she was him.
She felt as though her body was melting, slowly joining his, as his strong hand held her against him.
Then, all too soon, it stopped. He pulled away from her, his eyes dark and passionate. He looked down at her lips, then back up at her eyes. They stayed there a while, both of them just watching one another, breathing heavily.
Beth wanted to grab him and throw him down on the bed, lay across him and kiss him for the rest of the night, but she felt frozen in that moment.
He ran his lips together as if tasting them, and Beth's stomach flipped again.
Then, with sudden and extreme terror, she realised she was going to be sick.
Daryl saw the fear flash in her eyes and recognised the sudden deathly shade of grey her face turned.
Within seconds, he had moved her over to the side of the bed and bunched all of her hair up and out of her face whilst she vomited onto his floor.
After, she sat up, panting, tears pouring down her face. Devastation rocked her as she slowly wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She turned to look at him, pale white. She had just single-handedly destroyed the moment between them. A moment she had been dreaming about and longing for for weeks now. Everything had been wonderful, and now it was all awful.
'I'm so-' she began, but he shook his head, stroking her hair.
'It's fine,' he whispered.
Tears still falling down her pale cheeks, Beth laid her head on his lap, closing her eyes. Daryl leant his back against the wall behind them, rubbing her back until she drifted to sleep. She was so overcome with such a multitude of emotion that her mind and body found it easier to just switch off, allowing her to drift to sleep. Within only minutes of one another, two drastically life changing events had taken place, and it was too much for her fragile mind to handle as it also fought with the alcohol still in her system. Yet some how, she found comfort with Daryl, her head resting in his lap, his hand on her back. Part of her felt like a small child who needed looking after, but she didn't mind too much. Closing her tired eyes, she let that feeling pull her towards sleep.
Daryl sat there, watching the young girl sleep on his lap, his mind entirely muddled. What had just transpired between them had broken every single barrier – there was no coming back from that. He had kissed her. She had kissed him. But he had kissed her back. She was eighteen, but he was the adult in the relationship, he should have known better, but everything he had felt recently, everything he had tried to repress before her understood, had culminated in that one forbidden moment. But as he sat looking down at her sleeping figure, he found it had to feel regret. He leant his head back, closing his eyes. Might as well catch some sleep before the full force of what had happened came down on him, and everyone at the prison came for him.